Thirteen Minor Cycles later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Cargo Deck, Auxiliary Cargo Bay.

I found myself in the cargo bay once meant to be a storage location for a variety of excess storage now a makeshift training room for Wokan and Garudan alike. Pok and Elkra stand behind me glaring at the likely strange sight and I will admit the sight was strange. In the centre of the cargo bay is a crowd of both Wokan's and Garudan's all clamouring loudly each in their native languages. The sight confounds me, so the three of us walk forward, nearing the crowd I managed to peak through the gaps. Within the centre of this calamity of grunting and loud voices are the presences of two beings engaged in a brutal melee.

The now dubbed fighting circle is similar to the gladiatorial arts of Korvan's ancient past, though on a smaller scale. This circle of violence surround Zatrophos and Hera engaged in a fierce battle, the sound of flesh striking flesh permeates my ears. I can almost hear the bones cracking with every blow, judging from the state of the melee, Hera has begun to press her advantage. Wokan's have more advanced yet still crude fighting arts along with many more appendages. Garudan's on the other hand have the advantage in brute strength and ferocity, that very aspect is on full display now.

Hera leaps forward with her clenched fists delivering blow after blow as Zatrophos blocks every attack with his four arms shielding his face and chest. From an initial observation, it would be clear that Hera has the advantage, yet I can spot a lack of exhaustion from Zatrophos who has yet to drop his guard despite the consecutive blows. The battle rages on with the surrounding crowd clamouring louder and louder, I stand back somewhat out of sight but still with a good view of the fight and the surrounding denizens. Leaning back with my arms crossed behind me, I inspect the crowd, noticing the visage of Itoa standing shoulder to shoulder with a Wokan soldier both yelling near incoherent words.

The atmosphere of the event is curious, previously the Garudan's and Wokan were at each other's throats. Now they are still at each other's throats but it's a more positive atmosphere, perhaps this is one of the eventualities with warrior races. They either kill each other or beat each other up but respectfully, studying this phenomenon will be most intriguing. Given the lack of fatal hostility, I step back a few steps to watch it all play out, Pok and Elkra step back with me also affixed to the event.

Hera is still continuing her barrage of punches; her stamina is quite commendable but the most interesting thing is, Zatrophos's guard has yet to falter. With each blow Hera presses her advance, Zatrophos blocks his vitals, stepping back towards the boundary of their combat area. Several more blows follow, Hera's punches started to slow down, with the exhaustion finally getting to her she over-extends her reach, prompting Zatrophos to counter with a side step and grapple. With her over-extended reach, Zatrophos is able to grapple her right arm manoeuvring inside her guard. He moves her two lower arms to constrict her torso whilst taking advantage of his upper arms to constrain her arms. Using the momentum, he brings her tumbling to the ground face first, she crashes face first with her right harm twister to her back and her torso firmly pressed to the ground.

The victor is quite clear as the grapple holds her expertly, with his victor at hand, Zatrophos raises his gaze to the crowd. The crowd erupts with two very different responses, the Wokan's cheering jovially while the Garudan's moaning with their heads down. Itoa lowers his head while the Wokan next to him gives him what I can only describe as a kind gesture. The Wokan pats the sides of his own head with his lower arm hands, a gesture I recognise as respect for the defeated or something similar.

The crowd continues its jovial clamouring with a smiling Zatrophos marvelling at his victory, with his pride reaching the peak I notice something interesting. With the slight tremor in his arms as if he struggles to maintain his domineering grip, a loud roar resounds as the clamouring crowd immediately quiet. I switch my gaze from the crowd to the sight of Hera, slowly rising from her down position roaring in rage pressing against the now struggling Zatrophos desperately fighting against her strength. The crowd starts grunting, making a strange repetitive grunting sound, possibly some sort of ritual to add to the ambience maybe.

The majority of these grunting sounds are coming from the Garudan members of the crowd with a few Wokan's joining in. The volume rises almost in tandem with Hera's ascent, the two fighters struggle against each other's brutal strength yet the superior begins to emerge. Zatrophos's shoulders start to tremble against her force, she pushes back against his arms until she is on her knees. Hera then pushes her right foot forward, now in a half-kneeling position, Zatrophos still struggling as Hera turns and breaks away grabbing his neck. She pulls him over her shoulder and slams him to the ground with a loud crash. Hera then leaps over twisting her body to land in a straddling position raising her fist to strike down.

Her fist raises ready to clobber him, pulling back her arm to propel her fist directly towards his face, the sound of Zatrophos's voice resounds. Unexpectedly he speaks Garudan, though heavily accented. "Somuko!" Now that is something I hadn't expected, the formerly prideful Wokan Pralator just surrendered in the Garudan language. His words nearly silence the crowd, prompting Hera to release him, stand up and leave without any further words. I follow her exit and notice she stops a short way from the crowd, turns to Zatrophos who has just returned to his feet. She gazes at him for a short while before performing a Garudan gesture of respect, turning back and continuing her exit.

She walks past me, casting a glance as she passes me, right after she crosses me, she utters a few words in Garudan likely directed towards me. "Kahuha koang piyo." I recognise the words; I think it means, I took your advice or something like that. Her words bring a smile to my face as I watch her vacate the cargo bay without uttering any more words.

With her sight disappearing out of the cargo bay doors, I return my gaze back to the crowd who are observing a new battle between two Wokan's. I glance over to Itoa who acknowledges my presence with a respectful Wokan greeting before returning his attention to the current fight. It seems he is enjoying himself, that is good to see, I always wanted the Garudan's and Wokan to at least cooperate who knew it takes beating each other with their fists to accomplish that.

Suddenly I hear approaching footsteps, turning my gaze to the right I witness Zatrophos walking towards me. He is cracking his neck and shoulders obviously in some pain given the concerning sounds his bones and muscles are making. Before he arrives, I turn to face him with my hands still crossed behind my back. Arriving before me, Zatrophos glares at me for a time before casting his gaze to the door Hera once exited from. Still, with his eyes locked to the cargo bay exit, he speaks in a gravelly voice. "She reminds me of my clutch kin, Zetara... she never let me win, not even once in battle, even when our clutch bearers were testing us." His eyes wander from the cargo bay exit, darting around the cargo bay, his gaze seems to be lost in memories. I had not heard of the concept of clutch bearers testing their clutch children in combat with one another, though I am not surprised.

Whilst the contemplative Wokan stares there in a daze I tap him on his right shoulder prompting him to follow me to the side. He reacts quickly realising my motive and follows me with minimal resistance. Once we are away from the crowd surrounding the current match I turn to Pok and ask him a question. "Do you still have that liquid energy solution?" Right after my words exit my mouth both Elkra and Zatrophos narrow their eyes, strangely in similar manners despite the different physicalities of their species. Pok instead nods in agreement, turning to his newly acquired Demthesian belt pack. The belt was a standard-issue belt with many slots for provisions, weapons and technology, he and I grew quite fond of them and both have one of our own.

Pok pulls forth a small tube with a green liquid inside and passes it to me. Now in my hands, I turn to Zatrophos and offer the tube to him. His eyes widen to a large degree, he seems to ponder for a moment before snatching the tube from my hand. Now with the tube in his grasp, he removes the cap and downs the contents in one gulp. "Gia dox!" He yells at the top of his voice prompting the other Wokan crowding the fight to repeat the same term similar to a chant. I originally half expected him to throw the tube away, yet he keeps the tube still firmly in his grasp.

I nod my head in a bobbing motion as I observe the now flush-faced Wokan jubilant and radiating vitality. The liquid was some sort of Wokan energy beverage, a luxury provided only to the most loyal Wokan, there was a small supply in the ship's pantry. Zatrophos eventually returns from his high, glares at me with a smile and speaks. "Thank you, red devil, I haven't had such a vitality boost since the defence of Woka." I narrow my right eye on curiosity directing my thoughts to his words, the defence of Woka, the home planet of the Wokan species. I have heard very little on this subject as most of the Wokan's I have met are from the colony planets.

I nod a few times affirming a potential question to ask as Zatrophos roars the Wokan battle cry again riling up his men during the fight. I collect my thoughts for a few moments just as he turns to me, I ask my question. "You were there on Woka during the capital planet's defence?" I tilt my head slightly to the side, coincidently Zatrophos does the same almost mirroring me, he snorts derisively and grants me quite the sight of his first smile.

His eyes enlarge, I can almost see the wheels of time turning within those beady eyes. His smile grows ever larger right before his posture grows straighter oozing pride in himself. "Haha yes Red Devil, I was there fighting side by side with my clutch kin as the filthy Demthesian's rained from the sky." Almost immediately his smile vanishes and he spits on the ground showcasing his utter disdain and then beating his chest. He nods a few times or bobs his head up and down not sure if it has significance, he clenches all four of his fists and then continues speaking. "Oh... Red Devil, you should have seen us, fighting with our clutch kin, crushing Demthesian skulls beneath our feet, with my clutch sister Zosa, she knew how to fight... better than I... I admit that proudly." Raising his head higher than I thought possible, his beaming pride reaches greater heights, I'm sure if I was a Wokan I would feel said pride easily.

Curious about the history of the Wokan people I quietly listen to his historical rendition of his past battles, because well it doesn't seem like he will stop anytime soon. "The battle of Ter-Masa was my favourite, now that was a proper battle, our Prima had ordered us, only one hundred strong to defend the main stronghold of the colony... with only five Pralator's to command the defence... myself included." He starts gesturing with his upper arms first outstretched, then pointing to himself and then showcasing the exaggerated size of the fortress, likely not to scale because of his arm span. I continue to listen intently as he continues his account of this intriguing battle. "I was fifth Pralator at the time, with my four seniors with me, Ter-Masa's fortress was the main stronghold and the only thing keeping the colony defended... the stronghold housed the anti-ship cannons, keeping the Demthesian bastards from getting too close for orbital bombardment." Gesturing with his hands towards the roof I follow his gaze to the ceiling imagining a fleet of ships hovering just above us.

Projecting a wide view with his arms he begins to recount the tale of the Wokan defence of Ter-Masa and it was quite the tale indeed. Listening to every word I became in raptured by his account, the tale of battle, bloodshed, comradery and defying the odds was... well... incredible. My blood started to boil just from hearing his vivid description of events in I might add, incredible detail. The battle or more accurately siege of Ter-Masa occurred halfway through the invasion by Demthesian forces. Many colony planets were easily captured by the large Legionary fleets, that was until the Demthesian met the core worlds of the Wokan Hierarchy. Amidst the core, worlds were the capital planet of Woka the seat of the Wokan power base and three main planet outposts of varying defences and strategic positions. The three outpost planets were Kuro-Lin, Sto-Teka and Ter-Masa, Kuro-Lin and Sto-Leka fell to the divided Legionary fleet after orbital bombardment. At the time anti-ship rail cannons were still in early development and only deployed on the capital planet, during the attack of the two outposts, anti-ship rail cannons were sent to Ter-Masa to ensure it holds while the shattered Wokan fleet regroups to defend Woka.

With only six anti-ship rail cannons deployed on Ter-Masa, the defence of the planet was condensed to the three main bases. One of these strongholds was were out excited Wokan Pralator was stationed with his clutch-sister Zosa who was the fourth Pralator whilst Zatrophos here was the fifth. Zatrophos spent quite a lot of time extolling her virtues as a great warrior and soldier of the Ter-Masan defence force. Apparently, when the Legionary fleet arrived, they attempted to bombard the planet but quickly pulled back after the anti-ship rail cannons open fire and nearly tore a Demthesian cruiser apart. At the time Zatrophos and Zosa were commanding the defence of the third stronghold. The battle had yet to reach them, with the anti-ship cannons the orbiting Demthesian fleet couldn't get close enough.

The Demthesian's had no choice but to land their army far from the main strongholds and march their army towards the enemy. The army marched on the two closest strongholds overwhelming them with their superior forces. Lastly, they reached the final stronghold, under the command of the five Pralator's the defence force held the fortress. Many Wokan's died during the initial siege leaving at most one hundred soldiers remaining to defend the internal stronghold. Fifth Pralator Zatrophos alongside his clutch sister Fourth Pralator Zosa commanded only thirty soldiers to hold the narrow corridors of the main fortress entrance.

The Legion could not shell the fortress as the base defences of the stronghold were enough to keep the main ground vehicles occupied. Leaving the option of sending a strike force to enter the stronghold and disable the anti-ship cannons. Zatrophos commanded the frontline, it was a bloody defensive battle, the Legion would send in waves of legionary troops to overwhelm them. Commanding his small squad Zatrophos personally killed too many to count, holding the line and keeping the enemy from entering.

He said he held the fortress front for five orbital cycles of Ter-Masa, and throughout that time he never lost a single soldier. After a while, the Legion realised throwing bodies at the front door was not the optimal strategy and pulled back. The Wokan defence force finally had a lull in the battle, enough time allowed Zosa to reinforce her clutch brother. The two siblings reformed into a single unit under her command leading their forces to retake the outer walls. They cut a bloody path through the enemy forces, that was until the Demthesian's unleashed a chemical weapon upon the stronghold.

I tried to respectfully query about the further events but Zatrophos shut me down. He finished with this final line ending his story. "The defence of Ter-Masa was the greatest victory for the Wokan Hierarchy yet it was also the greatest tragedy." His eyes brightened for a short time, his chest pushed out with pride, yet a sombre tone could be subtly heard. His head dipped down, I'm not sure if it was sadness, shame or perhaps a combination of the two, yet I could recognise that he carried a burden he didn't feel like talking about.

I didn't push him, instead, I lead the conversation to the task at hand. "I won't inquire any further Third Pralator Zatrophos, your past is your own story, it is your decision whether or not to share it." Hopefully, my words can comfort him, perhaps he will acknowledge my sincerity and consideration for him.

Zatrophos had finally prematurely finished his tale, the sombre tone and expression vanished in an instant. His gaze now firmly locked onto me; expectation clearly etched on his alien face. He wants me to speak up and convey my intentions, that much Is clear, I have no reason to hold back. "Zatrophos, I have a task for you and the squad to handle, I will be placing you in charge of the Wokan squad and Pok in charge of the Garudan squad." My eyes cast towards the crowd, nudging my focus over to them, Zatrophos recognises my intent and snorts still maintaining his distant yet aloof expression,

Since he didn't respond I decided to continue with my explanation of the task at hand. "I plan to take a few ships down to the planet, two commanded by Quroken to scout the southern bases Zekton setup and another ship with Chief Gem, some of his security forces to meet his son at the northern base." As I'm speaking, I notice a slight twinge of recognition and curiosity flash across Wokan's face, so I continue. "I will have Chief Gem drop myself and the squad nearby, you and Pok will station yourself in the nearby forest while I infiltrate the compound, to scout the location of the Garudan prisoners and of course the location of the Vixorm supply." It seems every facet of this plan I go further into reveals more of Zatrophos's hidden expressions, I could clearly spot the disdainful expression he had when I mentioned Vixorm.

The Wokan grumbles for a short time before replying with a condensed posture, his arms crossing his chest and lower arms behind his back. "So, it's true... Zekton really had the scientists manufacture Vixorm." The hate and disdain laced within every venomous word he spoke were obvious and palpable, He turns to the side spits on the floor in anger and then fixes his gaze to me. A few moments pass by and he smiles coldly, turns around and steps away for a few more moments, I am confounded as to why he left so abruptly but when he returned, I was no longer confused. He returned with some sort of unfamiliar weapon cradled in his upper arms.

The weapon was much larger than the standard-issue Demthesian Concentrated Laser Rifle, the appearance was also much sleeker. The dark rifle cradled in his arms has a large ammo cartridge below the long black cylinder reaching a small opening at the end of the barrel. On the other end is a triangular stock with a grip just below the weapon next to the ammo cartridge, I cannot see any location where a nuclear fission cell is placed. Likely this rifle which has a similar appearance to the standard-issue assault rifles of the Samsiran Empire does not rely on nuclear fission. Curious about this rifle I am about to speak but Zatrophos quickly places the weapon now gripped in his right hand with the barrel resting against his shoulder, speaks first. "What are we waiting for... Commander Navarkos... I have been waiting for some action ever since the Legion dumped me on this exploration vessel... and to be honest, I never trusted Zekton, but I trust Gem so if he respects you, I guess I'll follow your orders... for now." His last words he spokes slowly and almost let linger for a time, I will admit the Wokan is intimidating especially when he flipped the switch on that strange weapon causing the rifle to light up with a glowing screen on the right side of the barrel.

Still this Wokan following my orders will be of great help, the enemy on the planet has had time to set up defences. Having an elite unit under my command will give me some options, though they haven't had much training under me, time is of the essence. "That is good to hear, First Pralator, Zatrophos of squad Liberty." I unveiled his new squad's name after some time thinking the most appropriate. I thought liberation... liberty was the aptest title for our little squad, naturally, his eyes grow wide at my declaration,

Yet they suddenly narrowed with a faint trace of contempt, curious I turn my head to the side clearly displaying my confusion just as he replies. "I am Third Pralator, do not call me by a title I am unworthy of." He speaks with venomous disdain, cracks his neck to the side and reaffirms his grip on his weapon still resting on his shoulder. "I will earn that title through glorious victories for my Wokan clutch-kin, we shall purge those who stain the Wokan name with vile weapons unfit for a battlefield... such as Vixorm." Honestly, I felt rather assured he would obey my orders, I'm not entirely convinced he will not become a threat. Yet that disdain he holds towards Vixorm convinces me that a number of Wokan will turn my side if against such a weapon.

I smile shortly after this realisation, truly a path ahead has laid itself out before my feet, it is prudent for me to tread upon it carefully. "Well, that is good to hear, I will meet you and your squad in docking bay one, prepare for combat." Placing my hands behind my back I adjust my posture into a straighter position, an attempt to exude an authoritative air. It does seem to have some effect, causing the Wokan to adjust his shoulders and resting his rifle cradled in his arms. Prompted by me he leaves towards the now quieter crowd to convey my orders; in my case, my mind turns to the path ahead.

Fifteen Minor Cycles later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Docking Bay One.

I am now standing in front of the three Demthesian vessels, all three are Hellmak patrol vessels, each with a standard design and configuration. All three ships are currently being loaded with weapons, supplies and personnel. Garudan's and Wokan's working together. Both sides obviously work for different reasons, the Garudan's acting out of gratitude and the desire to return to their homeland. The Wokan are either following mine or Chief Gem's orders since Gem has a lot of influence with the Wokan. The three ships are now stocked with everything required for the journey to the planet. I turn around putting the ships off-ramp to my back and glance towards Quroken and Gem moving towards me. The two are chatting about something, I can't quite hear what they are saying yet they cease their little chat just as they reach me.

Now with the two standing before me, I shift my gaze back and forth between them, a moment goes by before I speak up. "You both know the plan, Quroken... Gem." Moving my gaze from the two respectively, this action prompts the two to nod confidently with clear resolve on their faces. These two are prepared for the hard times ahead, I am not completely confident with the plan, but time is of the essence, so some improvisation may be needed.

Immediately as I am about to continue speaking, the lumbering frame of Zatrophos arrives, he pushes past Quroken, bumping him slightly. The two glance at each other for a short moment, they both cast an indignant expression almost matching each other. Zatrophos quickly loses interest, turns to me whilst tapping his large REP Rifle with a slick smile. "I know the plan boss, it's right here." Still tapping his weapon proudly, he displays the weapon prominently, clearly proud of the pure Wokan model without Demthesian alteration. "Come on boys we finally have a job!" He turns his head recounting those words rather loudly to the Wokan squad behind him. The group of Wokan and Garudan led by Pok all raise their weapons in triumph yelling the same Wokan term. "Gia Dox!" Even the Garudan's are saying it, such a strange species these two warrior races. I crack a short smile before shaking my head in acceptance.

Taking a breath I sigh softly, turn around and lead the group onto the Hellmak, the very vessel I was brought into the wide new galaxy. Quroken and a somewhat familiar Wokan pilot from the bridge crew left for their own ships. Myself, Gem, Zatrophos and Pok entered the ship, Pok and Zatrophos left to stow their weapons and gear while Gem and I head for the cockpit.

Reaching the ship's familiar cockpit, Gem swiftly seats himself in the pilot's seat, navigates the control panel, starting the fission engine bringing the ship to life. His hands move easily with practised movements, he is clearly an experienced pilot, something I had only recently learned, the security chief is full of surprises. With a few movements, the ship rocks slightly before ascending and moving forward to break out of the Ruktan's pull. After his clearly skilled hands manoeuvred throughout the ship's controls his right-hand stops at the thruster control. The right hand grasped the lever hesitantly, his hand twitching as if he is struggling with the very decision to pull the lever.

I step forward place my left hand on his right shoulder turn my gaze down to the seated Gem, he turns to me in response. "Let's go see your clutch child... we will bring him back and resolve this." Honestly, I was not confident this venture will have a happy ending for the father and son. Of course, hope is something even soldiers cling to, especially on the battlefield and as I have just proven, even in such an unfamiliar situation as a family. He nods a few times, turns back to the thruster controls, sucks in a breath and pulls the lever back, causing the ship to power up and then propel forward at speed.