part0193

Crasor Tah Ahn was drunk on power, high on it, captivated by it. The Breakers, though not yet fulfilling his wildest fantasies, had provided him with the tools to achieve them. His army was not as big as the Ashamine’s, but it was far more loyal, absolutely in fact. True, I only control one planet, but I’ve dominated its land, sea, air, and people. The only thing remaining were the ships in Noor space.

“Prepare yourselves. Remember, the highest priority is securing the command deck and its comms,” Crasor told his small, hand-picked squad of Breakers. They were on a supply ship, preparing to dock with the Ashamine Forces vessel that had just arrived in Noor space. Once we capture this ship, we’ll be able to secure the rest of the vessels in system. And with the jamming abilities on board, we can disable all comms. This is vital.

Crasor stood in front of the airlock, ready to enthrall the soldiers on the other side as soon as the door opened. It would be a short, but intense struggle. The Ashamine ship wasn't large, but the danger it posed and the opportunities it presented were worth the risk. We need as many worm capable ships as possible. Plus, this one is armed and armored. Crasor was surprised this was the first AF vessel dispatched to the Noor system. The Founder must be preoccupied to ignore the comms blackout for this long. All the better for us.

The airlock hissed as it opened, the slight pressure differential between ships equalizing. Crasor shoved shards of thought at each of the soldiers, overloading their minds with ecstasy. He quickly caressed them and sorted the seed from the blackness. His squad rushed in and dealt with those bound for death as Crasor continued on towards the command deck. He would give the seed later.

Before he got to the command deck, Crasor wrapped space-time around himself, causing light to pass by instead of reflect off him. He became invisible to anyone who was not a Breaker.

“What's going on with the supply transfer?” the captain asked as Crasor entered the command area. This started him, thinking the man had seen him and asked the question.

“No word back. They’re taking a long time to report,” his XO responded.

Crasor calmed himself, understanding the situation. Moving carefully because his shielding only worked in the visible spectrum, he crept up behind the captain. As he did, Crasor scanned the room, probing the crews’ psyches. Oh captain, he thought, drawing a long knife out of a sheath at his waist, you are far too pure for us. Crasor sunk the blade into the man's back, aiming for his heart.

The captain gurgled, his body releasing its last bit of life. Everyone turned to see what was making the strange sound. Crasor knew the sight would be quite strange, a blade protruding out the captain's chest, glimmering red in the bright light, origins unknown. It simply appeared.

The XO, although bound for the seed, was still loyal to his captain. He acted quickly. “Comms, send word to AFC that we are under attack.” Crasor flung out shards of thought, attempting to dazzle everyone on deck. As he did so, he looked for the comms officer, knowing if he got the message off, the entire Breaker species might be destroyed by the Ashamine.

Something is wrong. He could feel someone resisting his persuasion, and he had the sickening suspicion it was the comms officer. This could ruin everything! Crasor panicked, frantically searching the personnel seated before the terminals.

He finally found the man, hurriedly trying to send the alert. Just as he was about to press “Transmit”, Crasor drove his knife into the man's brain stem. The officer fell onto the console, his blood spattering across it. Crasor quickly reached down and hit “Cancel”. He let out a sigh of relief and summoned his squad to come dispose of those bound for blackness. How did the comms officer resist my compulsion? It was the first time anything like that had happened.

After he and his squad had finished taking the Ashamine ship, they used it to capture the rest of the vessels in Noor space. It was easy to disguise themselves as AF and board each vessel in turn. A few civilian ships had small weapons on board, but none were a match for Crasor's mental domination.

With the seizure of Noor-5 and its surrounding system complete, it was time to begin the next phase of his plan. Crasor knew instinctively he needed to search the converted Breaker population to find those developed enough to learn to seed. He spent days searching out his chosen underlings, carefully selecting those best suited for the exalted position. Once he'd found three, he began cultivating and training them. Their psyches had to be altered so their bodies would mutate the seed producing ability. It was difficult working with the selected candidates as they had yet to fully evolve out of what he thought of as the “dumb” phase. They were slow and had a hard time understanding tactics or higher thought. Teaching them was proving to be nearly impossible. Crasor stayed patient though, waiting for them to develop the mental capacity they needed to progress. He trained them thoroughly, eager to be off on his own goals, but making sure they were equipped to do the work he needed. He would be able to communicate with his lieutenants, but they would need to make quick decisions on their own while they conquered new planets.

Finally, after a week, their training was complete and Crasor felt good about putting so much responsibility on the shoulders of his three Descended—his mocking term for the similar Ashamine rank. He watched as they summoned forces to the orbital dock, loading them on ships. The shuttles were packed, crammed full of partially developed Breakers. Their minds were still imperfect and slow, their bodies halting and clumsy. They will do well enough, though. He had directed the Descended to go to weak, backwater planets early on. Using this tactic, they would build their forces from the populations of conquered planets, without suffering too many casualties. The first three on the list were Taggardt-6, Eishon-2, and Qi-3, all planets that lacked a military presence. He hadn't been to any of them except Eishon-2, but he trusted his secure Ashamine reports. They still haven't restricted my access, he thought, a sneer transforming his handsome face.

“All forces loaded,” came to his mind from the Descended leading the Qi-3 detachment. “We’re ready to depart.” Thankfully, the Descended could communicate using their minds, because their voices were still quite harsh and guttural. Using one's mind is so much easier.

“Break the Dawn,” Crasor replied by way of permission to depart.

“May the Dawn be broken,” the Descended responded, the engines on his ship coming to life.

Very good, Crasor celebrated. His dream of power was finally bearing fruit, and not because of the Founder or the Ashamine—What have they ever done for me? —but because he’d won it by the might of his own hand. He knew the condition of the government and to him it looked like an eager whore ready for buggering. All the meetings he’d attended with the Founder, confidential information he knew, all that would be crucial now. Bringing down the Ashamine—and let's not forget the decrepit human species in general —was his prime goal. A new order is descending on the universe. My order.

The other two Descended finished loading their ships and left as well. There was still a huge population of Breakers on Noor-5, reserves if anything went wrong on these expansionist missions. He hoped everything would proceed as well as it had on Noor, but you never knew until the work was done.

Crasor boarded his own ship, a small, speedy vessel once owned by an Ashamine courier. While his mission was one of expansionism and conquest just like the others, he had to go alone. First, I will settle business with the Founder. That would fulfill a desire nagging him since he’d become a Breaker. With him out of the way, I can move on to corrupting and exploiting the Entho group mind. Both objectives were tantalizing.

Removing the Founder will be complicated and dangerous, but the reward will be immense. Without the strong leadership it was dependent on, the Ashamine would crumble and the Breakers would sweep through the Akked, devouring the resources they needed to continue growing.

Subjugating the Enthos will require a totally new skill set. Crasor's Breaker mind had no recollection of how to deal with these creatures, but his covert viewing of their group mind made him crave its energy. Soon I will be strong enough to break through their mental barriers, and then we shall see, he thought. He didn't know if they could be converted, but they either had to be made one with the Breakers or completely destroyed. They were certainly much too powerful, intelligent, and evolved to be left alone. He needed to gather more intel. Perhaps some “hands on” experience will enlighten me. He looked forward to the task.

As the small craft moved away from the orbital dock far above Noor-5, Crasor reveled in his newfound power, worshiping the entities that had bestowed it on him. I never would have ascended this far with the Ashamine and the Founder. The leader of all humanity had never truly seen Crasor’s value, had never given him a position with real power. Now, my time has come. I will break, and the worlds will quake to their foundations. Crasor clenched his fists, feeling the power coursing through him.