From a fireball we came crossed sea and mountain

We were drinking beauty with our eyes

We were given all to make our own let us be left alone

Laid the tasks and paid the price, everything survives

Crushed and bolted all the great

After every win, what a stake we're in

It's paying better than the grave

When we talk without amends, we see red, and then

Deep inside our blood begins to boil

Judas Priest - “The Rage”

Dhyaksh Chugaz Uydan stood upon the ancient world of Dakik, surveying the wind-swept terrain. He had stood in this place once before, at the beginning of the Great Crusade, cheering the great warrior Jiyazh Ghuuyaz alongside the other clan leaders. It united the warriors of the Khonhim in purpose that day, as they prepared to embark on the journey that would fulfill the Pact. They would mount their ships and reclaim their ancient lands, stolen from them by the Triumvirate, honoring the promise they had made to their ancestors.

It was as if time had stood still, witnessing that historic moment.

And then the crusade itself. One world after another had fallen to their guns, and he had reveled in the destruction of their enemies. On Jituttaz, on Shossudd, on Ψ17, they had reaped, watching the cowards run in terror as they slaughtered them by the millions. No words could describe the heady moments of those glorious days, for they had been everything he had long dreamed of, and more.

But then...the tide began to turn.

It was at Uzaunx where they first met the aliens who called themselves Humans. They were pitiful opponents in the beginning...during their first battle, they completely destroyed the crude ships sent against them, leaving no survivors. That planet too had fallen to the horde, but there was something in the air, some sense that this new element was more than it seemed.

The second time they faced the humans at Uzaunx, the battle had not been so one-sided. It had still been a tactical victory for the horde, but it was the Khonhim who were forced to withdraw. They had inflicted far heavier casualties on the enemy than they’d received...but it was obvious even then that the humans were learning.

Learning quickly, in fact.

ϒ12 had fallen next, and once again there had been losses, though they were light in comparison. But it was at Zaaronq where the Great Crusade came to a halt, smashing against the new human fleet, facing their warriors on the ground. Both forces were left staggered and bleeding, but there had still been a chance to save the day, had Fate not played a cruel trick. It had destroyed the flagship Oathkeeper, the Dhyaksh presumed lost, and with no custom in place to choose a successor the crusade ground to a halt, awaiting orders...orders that were not forthcoming.

And when the command came...it was for their surrender.

He had never imagined defeat. Had never conceived it possible. None of them had. The Triumvirate held powerful technology, this was true, but they were weaklings, with no stomach for the fight. The horde should have plowed right through their worlds, like a blade threshing grain. It is what would have happened...were it not for the humans.

And as the remnants of the horde slunk back to their homeworlds, humbled in defeat, Chugaz began to plan.

Jiyazh Ghuuyaz had chosen exile, rather than live in ignominy among his own kind. With the way cleared to select the next Dhyaksh, Chugaz had lobbied hard to be named his successor. It had been an uphill battle, fought with tooth and claw, for he had staked the heretical claim that the ancient ways must change if they were to fulfill the pact to their ancestors. Those words had been hard to hear, for many of his people, and had they not suffered disaster his struggle would have been a futile one.

But when all is lost, the mob will latch onto anyone who can show them the way to victory.

He was cut from very different cloth than his predecessor. Jiyazh had clung to the old ways to the bitter end, while Chugaz had tossed aside any tradition that did not offer a clear path to victory. Jiyazh had won the rank of Dhyaksh as a warrior, pitting his skills against all that would challenge him, while Chugaz had worked quietly, out of the limelight, forging alliances…and eliminating his rivals. He would allow nothing to prevent his rise to power, in order for the Khonhim to claim what was theirs.

And if that meant the disappearance of those that stood in his way...so be it.

When he was named Dhyaksh, Chugaz had gone straight to work, overhauling the fleet and its tactics. He created clear lines of succession to prevent the disaster that had crippled them in their most desperate hour from happening again. For ten years he had campaigned hard for change, winning over even the most reactionary of warriors. New weapons were tested and put into production, while the clan wars that had forged the Khonhim soul began to change. In the old days, an honorable opponent would often be spared if he fought well. No longer. The new Khonhim fought to win...by any means necessary.

And now...they were ready.

Instead of climbing the hill to the Place of Skulls, Chugaz entered a nondescript structure, nodding at the warriors and clan elders who rose to greet him, before taking his seat at the head of the long table. “Be seated,” he ordered, as the others made themselves comfortable once more.

“The time has come to finish what we began, so many years ago,” he informed them. “The old ways that once served us so well do so no longer, and we have fought to purge their remnants from our civilization. We will take back what is rightfully ours, and when we are finished our ancient enemies will lie broken at our feet.”

“And what of the humans?” an elder asked.

“Ah yes...the humans,” Chugaz chuckled, though there was no mirth in its sound. “They allied themselves with the Triumvirate...so much so they are now its dominant race. They have even renamed their government to reflect this...the Tetrarchy. They remain the most dangerous element of their society, commanding the armed forces and reigning over the Ministry itself. Any plan to defeat the enemy must take this into account, or else suffer the same fate as our last campaign. With that in mind, this is how I intend to address that obstacle.”

With the touch of a button, imagery appeared on the screen above him. He waited in silence as the others watched the simulation he’d had prepared, noting their expressions. For those that showed disquiet...suitable contingencies had been prepared.

As the images faded into black, Chugaz waited for the others to speak. This too was a test, as one of the younger warriors inclined his head.

“An audacious plan,” he said at last. “Simple, yet effective….and it should offer us the element of surprise.”

“Audacious, yes,” one of the older members said, “but this...this is not the Way of the Warrior. There is no honor in these tactics.”

“There is even less honor to in defeat,” Chugaz said, “or have you forgotten what happened when we battled the honorable way?” A shadow passed over the elder’s face, but he stood his ground. “I have not...and only a fool would make the same attempt twice, without variance.” He leaned forward, his eyes boring into the elders. “I am not a fool. Are you?”

The elder bristled at the accusation. “You will either submit to my authority,” Chugaz continued, “or remain behind...and there is even less honor cowering here on the homeworld, while the true warriors go out to do battle.”

The elder snarled, leaping to his feet, his blade teleporting into his hand. “You would insult me like this?” he snapped. “I fought at Jiyazh’s side from first battle to last, and no one will disrespect my courage...not even the Dhyaksh himself.” He stepped clear of the table, his blade weaving about in front of him. “Face me...if you dare.”

The expression on Chugaz’s face never changed...not even when he pulled his sidearm and shot the elder dead from where he sat.

“I see there are still those that cling to the old ways,” he said, returning his weapon to its holster. “If there are any others that feel as he did, speak now...for only those who grasp that victory is all that matters will have a place by my side. The old ways are dead.” A slight sneer appeared on his face. “Just ask him.”

A handful of uneasy glances passed from one elder to another, until one took a deep breath and spoke up. “We are with you, Dhyaksh,” he said, “now, and always.”

“Good,” Chugaz said with a nod. “Gather your warriors...for the time to strike has come at last.”