Thanks to my one reviewer...which is why I'm updating. There have been many hits, now how about some feedback to go with them, eh? I've been working on other projects lately; not that I don't want to write this, but I like my other works just as well. So...erm...review? Pweeease? (cute puppy face)

Chapter 9 - A Time for War

A month passed. The prospect of commanding subordinate soldiers was something Qymaen had never experienced before on such a level as he suddenly found himself on. They would obey his every whim with few exceptions. Those who were overconfident enough to believe they did not need a commander were those certain individuals of noble blood whose ancestors had never been lords of war - priests instead, more or less. They walked around with airs of superiority, not placing trust in one so new to the art of leading troops into battle. Nonetheless, the young Kaleesh commander found that his rank provided him with the self-assurance he needed to put them back in their place...most of the time.

Rahkah was ever helpful, incessant though he was in his attempts in pairing his friend with some unknown female. He was seemingly always available for sparring sessions in hand to hand combat, as well as giving Qymaen a few suggestions here and there concerning his weapon techniques. The younger man was efficient with a rifle, that much was certain, but when it came to blades, he was as naive as a small child under the gaze of a large, predatory animal. Rahkah was skilled in the art of swordsmanship, more so than with firearms, and helped where he could, but it appeared, for a time, that Qymaen was, indeed unteachable - reputation aside.

It was at the end of this first month filled with training and nearly everything in between, that a justifiable attack occurred.

A thick mist had settled over the place of battle as the masses of soldiers, armed and ready crept through like shadows. The newer recruits had been left behind, their abilities of concealing themselves soundlessly in the foliage of the jungle doubted. Three of the commanders had been chosen to lead the counterattack. Naturally, Qymaen was elected, his abilities as a leader ready to be put to the test once more.

He kept a wary eye on everything he could see. The mist caused his range of vision to be limited to only about ten or so meters in front if him, but still he watched. The insectile vermin were clever at concealing themselves within the trees of the planet, but had a major flaw in the area of silence. And so, the young commander thought, he would use this to his advantage, his ears on higher alert than his eyes. Rahkah, who had volunteered to watch out for his friend, took Qymaen by the shoulder, causing him to stop very abruptly. He stepped aside and allowed the soldiers behind him to keep moving, following the third general.

"Don't look now, but there are Huk directly above us..." He spoke over Qymaen's shoulder, close enough that his chest touched his friend's back. His voice was so quiet that it barely registered that someone was speaking at all. Qymaen did as he was told. "The little devils are learning to keep quiet it seems," Rahkah added offhandedly. His ability to remain calm even with a fight on the horizon amazed his younger comrade. "I just spotted 'em - I've already told General Aavok," as he said this he took hold of the rifle slung around Qymaen's back, placing it in its owner's capable hands. "Get ready, pal...get ready."

Just as the words were uttered, chaos erupted around them. All at once the new general became one with his weapon, and Rahkah was lost in the mass of skirmishing enemies. He dove down behind a fallen tree beside another gunman, the sounds of the Yam'rii shrieking and the dying cries of his men overwhelming. Ten feet out, one of the insects had trapped a soldier - who struggled violently - between its strong forelegs, and proceeded to behead its victim with its mandibular teeth. Blood was everywhere.

Horrified, Qymaen looked to the other man next to him, who was apparently unfazed at the sight of brutality. He had never seen the Huk kill before, only capture for their own selfish gain. The tree they concealed themselves behind was unexpectedly run through by a giant clawed leg. There was an expression of pain, and then there was much blood near him. The other man with him had placed his arm down under the log in a small hollow, which happened to be exactly where the razor sharp foreleg pierced that which concealed them.

"Gods above!" the pained gunman hissed, unable to move. It was a bad situation - Qymaen knew it happened often, and internally convinced himself that it would be alright. He watched for a split second when the soldier yanked his arm back, cutting through flesh and bone with a resolute expression on his face.

The young commander attacked after seeing this, unfazed by the large creature that stood a good foot above him in stature. He had unsheathed one of the two knives he had been given, his rifle abandoned on the ground beside his injured comrade. His skills with a sword left much to be desired, but knives were something that he was familiar with, and when he had plunged the blade into the leg's carapace, he did not allow it to become dislodged. His free hand sought out a niche in the insect's complex natural armor, the nails on his bony fingers scraping along the rough surface until a secure area was found. All the way the enemy fought him and his body was tossed about horribly.

Qymaen swung his leg up over the sloped back of the Yam'rii, his knife-wielding hand keeping the weapon embedded in its place with a vice grip. Looping his arm around the long, slender neck, he held himself up, at last ripping out the blade and giving it a new home within the throat of the foe. The clicks and hisses subsided into a series of strangled burbling noises - the knife slid down in a quick motion, and all at once the creature made one last attempt to be rid itself of the unwelcome adversary on its back, then it fell. Qymaen removed himself from it as soon as it touched the ground, the close contact unwanted.

He retrieved his knife, swiped it through the grass to minimally clean off the blackish-purple insect blood, sheathed it, and immediately returned to the side of the injured gunman. The man quivered from the pain, trying to stop when he saw his commander kneeling down beside him. The skirmish had died down, though the winner was unclear at the time.

"General...sir..." the soldier said. The ground around him had become drenched with his own blood. "I had...no choice..."

"I know," Qymaen replied, rather distant, "Your sacrifice has not gone amiss, to be sure."

"General, I...I have...a family..."

He understood what the man was saying, "They will be well cared for, soldier, I will make certain of it for you."

The unknown gunman nodded faintly. "I am...I am ready. Do it..."

He was asking to be freed from his pain. It was the right thing to do - he would not make it.

The young commander took up the man's rifle, quietly placing the end of the barrel at a place on the dying soldier that would end it all very quickly.

Qymaen spoke the appropriate words, "May the hereafter honor you in the way your decent will," then he pulled the trigger, and it was finished.

A/N: Either the next one or two from now is when things will start to pick up for our dear protagonist. Please do review, and I shall try to have another one out soon :D