But a Moment of Respite


But one moment is all he could ask for. After the cleansing of the nest in a… minorly acceptable and honorable fashion, He left with his vanguard.

Granted those that came were not left without compensation, simply not the prize they sought. The mission was for a team to enter after all, not to erase dozens of years of history in a beam of Plasma.

Simple baubles and tech were given, ancient weapons of his people whose newer variants outshined them tenfold. Some older parents of the cloaking technology they used, some Primal Smart Discs for their homing capabilities, and Shuriken to teach them of the folding and hinged compression tech, and a few low-caliber Plasmacasters so that they could better the cooling and output of their energy-based weaponry.

That was all for now, all he could truly remember off the top of his head, yet he still had a few tribute-based gifts for the more Honorable of the warriors he fought with.


"Relax with your blade Brother. You're cooking, not performing surgery". The voice Startled Mon'Toane as he huffed and clicked softly, Knife hovering over a prime slice of meat that he had planned to cube for the Group's meal, his Older brother teasingly clicking and rattling his tusks together as he raised a brow, already having finished his portion of vegetables and seasoning.

"... I am most relaxed when strung like a Bolt Gun". He softly clicked and relaxed his mandibles, finally slicing the meat and sliding it over to his far more skilled sibling, the Chef of the triplets snorting as he set to work on some form of stew for the crew.

Something that Mon'toane was already slinking away from, he had much to do. Much studying to do with this universe. Advancements in his people's technology wouldn't be hard, they've engineered better in less time, he simply needed to make sure his kin didn't hide again like a whipped slave.

It was insulting. To use that term after all his people did you earn their right atop their old masters. But that's what this all felt like, gone was the era of hunters being the majority of his people's warriors, they needed soldiers, they needed fighters, not those that stooped to the lower beings for their honor, but those that cared for the peoples' honor as a whole.

Already he prepared his reports, shuffling words to face the argument of his people. The ancients would call for the old ways, and the elders would call for advancements. The Matriarchs may be disappointed in his views, the Patriarchs may simply shun the report as a whole

But the truth was what they asked for. And he was going to give it all to them.

The era of old had ended. It was time for a new age, one that would strive his people forward as more than savages that chose to let innocents die while they hid and hoarded their wealth like gluttons… the age of hunters is over, and the age of Soldiers, Scholars and Warriors must begin.

Stagnation is Death after all. They've remained stagnant for too long