Gen'rals gathered in their masses,

Just like witches at black masses

Evil minds that plot destruction,

Sorcerer of death's construction

In the fields the bodies burning,

As the war machine keeps turning

Black Sabbath - “War Pigs”

Dhyaksh Chugaz Uydan gazed around the cabin at the gathered warriors and smiled.

The flagship Resolve hovered in orbit over the planet Ghakh as they celebrated their victory over the Tetrarchy forces, but then he had never been one to rest on past glories. While they deserved their moment, this meeting was about something very different.

Planning for Phase Two.

“Be seated,” he ordered, as they found their chairs. “It has been a hard-fought campaign, but at long last, we have fulfilled all our objectives. The enemy fleet has been shattered, the humans neutralized, and now their very government has fallen into disarray. The way is clear, my fellow warriors, to finish what we began ten years ago. We wasted ten long bitter years suffering the ignominy of defeat.” The warriors and clan leaders nodded their heads in agreement, as they relived those rancorous times.

Chugaz rose to his feet. “Nothing lies in our path now. No one can stop us from fulfilling the Pact, and this time…” His lips drew back, baring his teeth, “...this time, we destroy the enemy, once and for all.”

The warriors roared their approval, and he let their adulation wash over him. “When we advance to the ancient lands, we will not repeat the mistakes of the last crusade. We will not linger over the planets we conquer, bloodying our blades on the surface...not when our ships can reduce each world to ash. We will sweep through the old Triumvirate like a hot desert wind, leaving nothing in our wake. And then…and only then...will we plant our boots upon their Capital’s soil. When every world is barren and lifeless, that is when our victory will be complete. Not before.” He gazed at each of those seated. “If you have visions of choking the life from our enemy with your bare hands, put those dreams aside. They have no place here...for that very impulse doomed the crusade. It will not happen again...not so long as I am Dhyaksh.”

The warriors' response was far more restrained at his announcement, though it contained nothing new. The Khonhim were a hot-blooded race, and far too prone to cling to the old ways in his opinion...and as Dhyaksh, his opinion was the only one that mattered. So many of the old warriors clung to traditions that had no place aboard a modern warship. As satisfying as watching your enemy die on your blade might be, leveling their cities from orbit was far more efficient. They might not like it, but as long as he kept handing them one victory after another, they would accept it.

Of course, if he could not provide them with such victories, that could prove problematic.

Those at the table nodded in agreement, though the odd grumble could be heard if one listened. Chugaz chose not to, as long as they obeyed his orders he could accept their bruised egos. Let them grumble. His actions...his victories...spoke for themselves.

He sat back down, leaning back in his chair, as he prepared for the briefing. They had a great deal of ground to cover…

“...and what of the Humans?” a voice demanded.

All talk ceased, as they turned in unison to face the speaker. Chugaz’ eyes narrowed, as he located its source. Azhum Ganakh. He should have known. Once he had been one of his staunchest allies, but of late he had grown silent at these meetings. As long as he did not oppose him openly he had been willing to overlook his lack of resolve, but it would seem his leniency was about to end.

“We have dealt with the humans,” the Dhyaksh replied. “We have destroyed their fleet, wrecked their planets, and crippled their ability to rebuild. They now view their erstwhile ‘Allies’ as an even greater threat than ourselves.” He allowed himself a small chuckle, though there was little actual humor in it. “This war was never about them. They were merely...in the way.”

“As long as they live, they are a danger,” Azhum warned. “Despite their best efforts, they are still the only warriors of note in their alliance...and we ignore that threat at our peril.”

“And just how are they a problem for us?” Chugaz smirked. “Without ships, and without weapons? Were we foolish enough to land on their worlds, perhaps...but that was never a part of the plan.” He kept his tone light, for if he were to give the others the impression he took this upstart seriously, there could be...complications.

Azhum seemed unwilling to give even an inch of ground. “You have done all that you promised, Dhyaksh,” he said, “but I must ask, at what cost?” He held up his hand and began ticking off his fingers, one by one. “Dzach. Gzuj. Zhis. And now, Ghakh. We may have defeated their fleet, but their forces still ravage the planet below.” He snorted. “Any more victories like that, and they may force us to surrender yet again.”

“Losing those worlds was regrettable but necessary,” he replied...but inside he seethed with fury. To be confronted like this? It was unacceptable. Chugaz nodded to himself, as he reached a decision. Azhum had become a liability, but he could not afford to deal with him now. As Dhyaksh all that he did was scrutinized, and if his political enemies smelled blood, they would pounce as surely as a carnivorous predator would take down lamed prey. No...this required subtlety. Simple enough, and he had handled similar problems in the past the same way.

One day soon, Azhum would just...disappear.

“We are Khonhim,” Chugaz said, “warriors from birth. There is no battle without sacrifice, and without sacrifice, the battle has no meaning...or did you think we would wage this war unopposed?” His reply cut with sarcastic precision, earning smirks and chuckles from those at the table...but as he watched their reaction, he could see others consider Azhum’s words. Oh yes...his days were most definitely numbered.

“Calling what happened to those worlds “Battle” is to stretch the word into a shape unrecognizable,” Azhum fired back. “Try instead…sacrificed, like tokens on a board.”

The room grew quiet as the grave, as he lay the challenge bare at last. “Choose your next words with care, Azhum Ganakh,” Chugaz hissed, “or you too will taste my blade.”

Azhum froze, as he realized he had taken a step too far. Glancing at those around him it grew obvious that what support he might have for his position was slender at best, and growing weaker by the moment. Should he declare his opposition now, he knew his remaining existence would be short indeed.

But as the moments ticked on, he began to comprehend that last step had been fatal. Chugaz was a skilled warrior but few of his enemies died on his blade. Quite the opposite, instead they suffered accidents...if one could use the word to describe an orchestrated demise. It flew in the face of everything the Khonhim had once stood for, but then the Dhyaksh was cut from a very different cloth than his predecessor. Jiyazh Ghuuyaz had obeyed the ancient customs of their people, and it had cost him dearly, but no one had ever accused him of cowardice or slipping a blade into the back of the unwary. No one accused Chugaz of such things either...not if they wished to continue drawing a breath.

“...my apologies, Dhyaksh,” he said at last. “I spoke rashly, and beg your forgiveness.”

Chugaz gazed at him with flat, cold eyes, and in that instant, Azhum knew what his future foretold. The Dhyaksh let the moment draw out, before giving him a curt nod of abeyance...but it was a lie, and both men knew it.

The briefing resumed once more, as their commander began outlining his plan...but in his mind…Azhum began making plans of his own.