By Michael R. Hicks
For lengthy millennia, the Kreelan race has been governed by way of warfare. numerous civilizations have risen amidst bloody clash prior to falling again into savagery, with overall annihilation prevented purely through the unnatural powers of the warrior clergymen and priestesses of the traditional orders.
And then at some point a mysterious warrior from a brooding fort deep within the nice Wastelands begun her bloody upward thrust to energy. Syr-Nagath, referred to as the darkish Queen, begun a brand new struggle of conquest, secretly making plans to smash the traditional orders and resurrect the darkish methods of the apocalyptic prior.
What she didn't expect was once the beginning of Keel-Tath, a toddler in contrast to the other. Keel-Tath's start was once foretold in an old prophecy, and was once destined to wield the good powers of all of the historical orders to unite her race around the Homeworld and one of the stars.
But she may well simply satisfy her future if she lived...
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Additional resources for From Chaos Born (In Her Name: The First Empress, Book 1)
Varnett ducked and rolled, but was unhurt. Skander cursed himself, then decided to set it down. He still had the knife, and that might just be enough. He took the flare pistol which, while it wouldn't necessarily penetrate the suit, might cause a blinding distraction. He was not a large man, but he was a head taller than the boy and the odds were otherwise even in his mind. Landing near Varnett's flyer, he got out quickly, flare gun in his right hand, knife in his left. Cursing the almost total absence of light and the fact that he had had to take his eyes off Varnett to land, Skander looked cautiously around.
Quickly his hands reached for the little pocket in which he kept his filter. Yes, it was still there. How was this possible? Varnett was doing computations, checking against a display on a second screen that hooked him to the math sections of the lab computer. Skander stood there totally still and silent. He heard Yarnett mumble an assent to himself, as if some problem he had been running through the computer had checked out correct. Skander stole a glance at his chronometer. Nine hours! It had been nine hours!
But it costs—unless one is influential with the Council," Hain noted. "True," Brazil acknowledged, talking as he chewed his synthetic meat. "But we're well paid, in port only a few days every few weeks, and most of us just put our salaries into escrow to pay for what we need. " Vardia broke in. "It's so very, very old! " Brazil shrugged. "Not very unusual. " "Yes, that's true," Hain said. C. " Brazil shrugged again. "I truthfully don't know. As old as the records, anyway. The brain has a finite capacity, so every rejuve erases a little more of the past.
From Chaos Born (In Her Name: The First Empress, Book 1) by Michael R. Hicks