The Zenkthi
Posted: Mon Jan 26, 2026 4:02 pm
The Zenkthi were natural warriors. Their Zek sub-species were apex predators, devouring or enslaving less braw cousins. Three metres height, six strong-clawed limbs, fangs, osteoderms, big litters and an 'attitude' had taken them to the top of their planet's trophic web.
After 'coercing' some unwary independent-traders, they became space-faring, too.
The Zek's star-system lay in the repeatedly ravaged borderlands between two utterly irreconcilable Imperial shards, both slowly recovering from yet-another failed attempt at 'Re-Unification'. Rapacious Zek clans raided now-isolated colonies, seized their scant commerce. An equivalent would be how Earth's Norse-men went 'A-Viking'.
Eventually, raiding ships probed beyond this denuded region, into the spreading zone of the Convention - Sylvan Alliance. They tried to 'pirate' the small colonies now appearing on multiple abandoned or depopulated planets. But, as the Convention's urgent aid meant that Alliance had recently beaten the xenocidal Others flat after a multi-generational war, such raiders were handled 'unkindly'.
To the Zeks, however, this just meant such settlements were surely worth raiding. Bigger and bigger groupings tried, variously suffered defeat from the settlers' superior fire-power.
This could not be tolerated: A 'Clan Consortium' sortied.
Unfortunately for them, the colonists now had guard-ships, a pair of Alliance 'Composite Light Cruisers'. The Zek 'fleet' was 'Sliced and Diced'. One last, merely crippled Zek ship and its few surviving crew was captured, back-trailed. A 'Rock Tug' returned the hulk, plonking it across the grand high-way before the Grand Gate of the Zenkthi's fortified Capitol. With message, "If you will not 'Play Nice', stay off our turf."
Two eights of annuals, a 'palace coup' and several formal impalements later, the new 'Top Clan' tried again. This time, the wrecked bow, all that remained of their biggest ship, was deposited atop the Grand Gate, crushing it, braw guard-towers and much ancient walling to rubble. The message, "We will not warn you again."
Three further eights of annuals, another 'palace coup' and more impalements along, the next raider 'fleet' simply did not return.
One annual passed.
Two.
Still no returned wreckage, no 'punishment'...
Then word came from the 'back-country' of the vast continent, from the minor Zek 'nobility' running vast estates that fed the Capitol. Their herds of Great Meat-beasts were suffering, the ample grazing no longer providing enough nutrition. Worse, the Beasts' very flesh tasted 'wrong'.
Investigations found pasture lands near and far being over-run by an invasive species. It looked near-enough like pasture plants, but grew faster, much faster. Its leaves and stems were 'unsuitable', did not digest well. Worse, they contained many tiny siliceous flakes. These destroyed those meat beasts' teeth before the animals reached 'marketable' size.
There came another shock: Unlike their own vegetation, which spread by sprouting from extended roots, this new species shed wind-borne 'seed'. This blew every-where, sprouted, thrived. Local pests choked on it, or starved. The entire eco-system was being up-ended.
Then, having set seed, the invasive vegetation died back to deep roots. But, unlike the 'regular' pasture plants, the dead stuff left on the surface could burn, and burn well. In fact, it burned so very well, after lightning strikes or accident, that its raging fires scorched the original pasture plants, seriously slowing re-growth. The new stuff, of course, embraced such opportunity...
Annuals passed. Meat-beast production collapsed. Those air-borne seeds went into every nook and cranny of habitations from hovel to Capitol, sprouted, starving even lesser meat-beasts and vermin.
Another coup ensued. The winners sent an envoy to the Convention-Alliance colonies, pleading for peace.
"That is what you said last time. And the time before. Your society is essentially un-changed, so we'll need time to consider..."
"But what have you done ??"
"Ah, we have an old, old saying: 'Those who live by the Sword shall die by the Sword.'
"Or, as here, the 'Sward'..."
After 'coercing' some unwary independent-traders, they became space-faring, too.
The Zek's star-system lay in the repeatedly ravaged borderlands between two utterly irreconcilable Imperial shards, both slowly recovering from yet-another failed attempt at 'Re-Unification'. Rapacious Zek clans raided now-isolated colonies, seized their scant commerce. An equivalent would be how Earth's Norse-men went 'A-Viking'.
Eventually, raiding ships probed beyond this denuded region, into the spreading zone of the Convention - Sylvan Alliance. They tried to 'pirate' the small colonies now appearing on multiple abandoned or depopulated planets. But, as the Convention's urgent aid meant that Alliance had recently beaten the xenocidal Others flat after a multi-generational war, such raiders were handled 'unkindly'.
To the Zeks, however, this just meant such settlements were surely worth raiding. Bigger and bigger groupings tried, variously suffered defeat from the settlers' superior fire-power.
This could not be tolerated: A 'Clan Consortium' sortied.
Unfortunately for them, the colonists now had guard-ships, a pair of Alliance 'Composite Light Cruisers'. The Zek 'fleet' was 'Sliced and Diced'. One last, merely crippled Zek ship and its few surviving crew was captured, back-trailed. A 'Rock Tug' returned the hulk, plonking it across the grand high-way before the Grand Gate of the Zenkthi's fortified Capitol. With message, "If you will not 'Play Nice', stay off our turf."
Two eights of annuals, a 'palace coup' and several formal impalements later, the new 'Top Clan' tried again. This time, the wrecked bow, all that remained of their biggest ship, was deposited atop the Grand Gate, crushing it, braw guard-towers and much ancient walling to rubble. The message, "We will not warn you again."
Three further eights of annuals, another 'palace coup' and more impalements along, the next raider 'fleet' simply did not return.
One annual passed.
Two.
Still no returned wreckage, no 'punishment'...
Then word came from the 'back-country' of the vast continent, from the minor Zek 'nobility' running vast estates that fed the Capitol. Their herds of Great Meat-beasts were suffering, the ample grazing no longer providing enough nutrition. Worse, the Beasts' very flesh tasted 'wrong'.
Investigations found pasture lands near and far being over-run by an invasive species. It looked near-enough like pasture plants, but grew faster, much faster. Its leaves and stems were 'unsuitable', did not digest well. Worse, they contained many tiny siliceous flakes. These destroyed those meat beasts' teeth before the animals reached 'marketable' size.
There came another shock: Unlike their own vegetation, which spread by sprouting from extended roots, this new species shed wind-borne 'seed'. This blew every-where, sprouted, thrived. Local pests choked on it, or starved. The entire eco-system was being up-ended.
Then, having set seed, the invasive vegetation died back to deep roots. But, unlike the 'regular' pasture plants, the dead stuff left on the surface could burn, and burn well. In fact, it burned so very well, after lightning strikes or accident, that its raging fires scorched the original pasture plants, seriously slowing re-growth. The new stuff, of course, embraced such opportunity...
Annuals passed. Meat-beast production collapsed. Those air-borne seeds went into every nook and cranny of habitations from hovel to Capitol, sprouted, starving even lesser meat-beasts and vermin.
Another coup ensued. The winners sent an envoy to the Convention-Alliance colonies, pleading for peace.
"That is what you said last time. And the time before. Your society is essentially un-changed, so we'll need time to consider..."
"But what have you done ??"
"Ah, we have an old, old saying: 'Those who live by the Sword shall die by the Sword.'
"Or, as here, the 'Sward'..."