"I was thinking the same thing."

I didn't take my eyes off of the third stranger when I spoke. He was positioned as a guard but was different than the rest, dressed more importantly. His armor was a mixture of gold and black, the bodysuit underneath it was different than the bare skin of the other guards in the room. It was a personalized set of armor that greatly resembled what the database told me was a general. He was dressed for void warfare. His skin and hair too were a change from the standard my experience had set on this planet. His skin was an unhealthy scarlet I might associate with sunburn, contrasted by his pale, bone-white hair. Two pointed ears moved slightly back as he tilted his head at me. A strange confidence was in him that wasn't shared by the other guards, who were still but gave away their feelings with slightly rushed breaths and a rapid heartbeat.

Several seats were open, but I didn't move to sit even when Sranass gestured to the table. He was too at ease. I kept my focus on the odd one out. My first instinct was to say he wasn't Tamaranean, but my nose didn't lie. He smelled like the others did, but different. Subspecies perhaps? My search through their database was fruitful, but they had been hiding much from me. I suspected what I knew was what any civilian was free to know. Considering this was the first I'd seen of any Tamaranean looking like that, it wasn't likely. In that case...

"You're an abnormal member of your species aren't you? Someone to incentivize my leaving peacefully." I nodded in his direction. Abnormals were always a rarity, but a number of planets had them. The one known as Allen came to mind, an abnormal that had surpassed all but my father, and based off his performance, the son of No'lan. My smile didn't drop but on the inside I was readying. My fathers lessons whirled through my mind behind a taunting veneer. Failing to acknowledge a threat was how even the strongest died. I was not the strongest.

"That's correct. Listen to what they have to say." His tone was sharp, his heartbeat steady. I didn't detect arrogance in the command, but he seemed to find my presence as irritating as the rest did. good. My head tilted in the direction of the one called Myand'r, but I did not move to face him. There was only one being in this room I would acknowledge as equal in this room, and even that was out of caution. The high king spoke after him.

"General Phy'zzon speaks bluntly, but his words have truth. You should hear us out, take the deal we present to you."

I let out a hum at his words. It didn't seem like they expected me to be willing to listen. A fair assumption, I doubted what they had to say was all that interesting. Still...

"I'd like to hear what you might offer for my leaving this world. My experience so far has been pleasant. Sornand'r is a very good host." Sranass stood in a flash, his chair launching across the room to shatter against the wall behind him. Beyond that the only response was the silent grimace on his face. Stormfire had taken a few steps to hide our occasional encounters, but it was a fools errand. He must have hated the reminder of what we had gotten up to.

"Few get the chance to experience our hospitality, but our patience has it's limits. My friend Sranass is decidedly closer than the rest of us. If you leave this planet now, and promise to never return, we will be willing to provide transport, sustenance and credits enough to tide you for several years wherever you journey." When the king spoke he was collected, and far more reserved than most of his kind. "This offer was highly contended, but I want peace for my world more than satisfied vassals. Refuse it and the weight of the Tamaranean military will fall upon you."

I was silent for a moment. It might have been a fair deal to someone with a home to return to. Could be the difference between death and a chance to fight another day. Truly I considered it, but I didn't fear death. I feared dying without an empire to call home, and cowardice did not make an empire. I needed more than that.

"Your War machine? Come now, we both know thats far from what it once was. You speak as the king to a broken people. Your war-machine extends as far as its allowed to." I paused, catching sight of his wince behind that mask of regality. "-Credits and food are all well and good, but I want something else. A future. Something that's within your means to achieve." I turned my eyes to him for the first time. His eyes narrowed.

"And what might you consider a future, invader? What would make you leave our planet?

"let's say... fifty Tamaranean females of breeding age, healthy and unscarred."

It was a number I wasn't happy with, but it would be enough to get started. I could hide for a few decades, set up somewhere I wouldn't be watched. Raise children who knew their duty. By then I'd be stronger, and they'd be strong enough. It was the absolute minimum I was willing to except, and it was also the only thing they would never give. Perhaps if I had proven I was strong, but they wouldn't think with the numbers they would save in refusing me, only what they would lose.

Immediately, the two kings I had been ignoring rose in outrage, yelling even when the high king rose his hand into the air. They weren't assured by the action, only growing louder and more furious.

"The people would never stand for it!" Sranass was first to raise his voice, slamming the table in front of him and nearly hopping over it in my direction. It took three gaurds to hold him back, keep him from dying uselessly, but he wasn't the only one with an issue.

"Unacceptable, to give away even a single Tamaranean would tell the rest of the galaxy we are free game!" I blinked at his words. I had guessed Myand'r was being blamed for the slavers power over the planet, they were prideful enough for that to make sense. For it to be so open meant things were falling apart around here. He wouldn't be king for much longer. Even if I did leave. Only his refusal got them to be quiet.

"I didn't come to haggle, I'm offering you a chance to leave unscathed. If you want slaves buy them off the market, the Citadel is happy to provide such disgusting cargo to any who ask." I tsked.

"Don't pretend be above it now. That same empire is given thousands of Tamaraneans every year, including-" I stopped at the twitch of the kings finger made in my direction. I heard the heartbeat, the change in blood-pressure before I saw the movement, the general crossing the room at a speed that confirmed my fears. Several things happened in the space between breaths. I managed to travel four paces towards Myand'r before he disappeared entirely in blue light, the other leaders following suit. An elbow had reduced one guard's head into a spray of crimson splattering to my left. Several bolts of energy lanced the spot I was once standing in. A fist traveled between my raised arms and struck just under my cheek.

For a moment I blacked out.

I was still moving when my focus returned. The pain saved my life. The home of the third high family in Kathas was seated on the edge of the city, just barely seperated from the population center on three sides. I forced myself to stop midair, catching a trail of destruction leading me just to the edge of the cities outer walls. I blocked the second blow, crossing my arms to ward off a punch to the chest, but the force was enough to send me flying again, violently tearing through a forcefield, and a following four feet of stone. The pain it caused was mediocre compared to the aching, twisting throb in my now dislocated jaw. I glared at an approaching missile of red and white flying after me, air whistled past my ears, hundreds of feet of greenery passing me by every instant. I was being pushed away from places where damage could be done.

This time I let myself be pushed, the abnormal Tamaranean slamming into me with the weight of a small planetoid. The hot splash of pain that rose up my side told me he broke a rib, the painful and stretched grin on my face told him that didn't matter. My hand lanced out, gripping his wrist before I was launched away. My other hand grabbed hold of his throat, wrenching him downward and under me in time for us to hit the ground.

Some of my brothers said there was always a certain satisfaction to find in the realization enemies had when the time came to show just how much stronger we were than the chaff. Personally I enjoyed showing others they weren't as strong as they thought they were.. The pained gasp he managed before I started to reply in turn was beautiful. We carved through thousands of pound of dirt and rock as my fist hit his face again and again. Each blow sent a tremor through the earth even as we traveled further and further, our movement now thanks to me half dragging, half pulling the general through it over any momentum he managed in hitting me.

The path of devastation we left in our wake would be quite the sight from the air, few miles of torn landscape and jagged earth jutting away from a major population center. It was the kind of reminder lesser species needed when they forgot what they were and weren't capable of. It was also a hell of alot of fun, watching the ground we stood on heave with every blow. Our battle was taking us far, but I didn't care.

I was interrupted from gouging my thumb into one of his eyes by a punch to the throat, pausing my onslaught enough for him to sneak a headbutt past my guard. The impact was enough to break my nose, and the pain slowed my movement even further. We halted at the edge of a patch of woodland, each traded strike sending trees shaking and birds flying. He was more durable than me, but what damage did get through seemed to effect him more. His skin provided better protection, but his body was fragile. I leaned back and away from a sudden snap of his teeth, the surprise move nearly costing me a nose. I broke his in return, my palm forcibly smearing the broken cartilage across his face.

It was a brawl of instincts, technique without any planning or forethought. We were trading each others pain, testing to see who would have to retreat, have to plan. The Viltrumite way. We only separated when a wide swing met my shoulder, barely stinging but managing to send me flying through a line of trees, obliterating a couple hundred yards of woodland, and giving us both a moment to breathe. I emerged from the treeline as he lifted himself from the large furrow our journey had created, forcing my jaw back into place. My tongue traced the absence of one of my canines, and I spoke past a hand welling with blood.

"Your leader chose you well. The difference in our strength, our skill is only a razor thin margin." I tensed, relaxing only when my jaw realigned with a sickening pop. "Maybe you are a warrior species-"

"-because It's only by a razor thin margin that I'll kill you."