Desecration

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Sat Apr 20, 2002 2:24 pm

Pain. Never before in his entire life had he experienced anything remotely like this. Steel spikes of agony pierced his skull, boring deep into his mind. His thorax burned from deep within, as if someone had poured magma inside and was constantly stirring it up. He was dimly aware that he was curled up into a tight ball, legs drawn in as far in as possible, arms wrapped around himself, antennae flattened to the curve of his skull. He could feel his mandibles chattering together, but was not sure if it was reflex or if he was trying to scream. The sensation of being weightless slipped between the red-hot bars of pain that caged him, though he was too far gone to be frightened of any fall now. The death that would await at him the finish of such a plummet would be  welcome at this point. He raised his head and cocked it to the side so that he could look below himself, expecting to perhaps find himself mere seconds from slamming deep into the ground, or even several dozen kilometers from the surface of some planet. He saw nothing but grey. Was he upside down? He straightened his head, his curiosity getting the better of the agony, and looked up. Nothing but grey. Now the pain decreased some, lessening its grip on him, and the respite from it went unnoticed as he looked to the sides and behind, not understanding what he was seeing. All around him was featureless grey, perfect and without detail. Utterly without form. Crushing vertigo entangled him suddenly as his mind realized it had no physical reference points on which to affix. He flailed in the void, weightless still, his panic driving the pain from his body completely, though he did not notice. For some time--he was unsure of how long--he reached out and tried to grasp at something...  anything, both with his limbs and with his mind, trying to give himself some point of reference with which to right himself. And then he remembered the dream. The dream he'd had in Warren's office, the same one that had tormented him at various points over the last few weeks. Though he was not losing parts of his body or his mind as he had in the dream, the void that engulfed him now was exactly like the dream-void. His feet abruptly found purchase in the void, all four of them settling down onto some hard surface. There was one last brutal twist of his perspective as his mind righted itself, and then the vertigo was gone, as was the pain, he finally realized. Adrenaline still pumped vigorously through his system, and he trembled slightly from its influence. He shook his arms out and stretched, making sure he was still all in one piece. All there... save for his armor. A frantic patting down of the rest of his body revealed that all of his weapons, even his  chatka, were gone. He looked around, wondering if they were somewhere nearby, but saw nothing.  So... perhaps this  is a dream, he thought.  A vision concocted by my mind while I lay unconscious. It was then he remembered the battle, remembered the strange things he'd heard before slipping into this.  My friends! What has become of them? He could not know that, however, and he forced himself to put his concern aside for the moment. Instead, he looked out at the void around him, straining to catch some detail, even though part of his mind told him it was pointless. What was there to see? He staggered as something twisted inside his thorax, as if his hearts had stopped. He clutched his hands over his chest and hissed loudly. Then it was gone as suddenly as it had come upon him. He straightened and looked outwards again, and almost jumped backwards in shock. Spreading outwards from him was a single wave-form, a concentric ripple in the fabric of the void. It defined the invisible 'floor' he was standing on, and it was moving away from him at a pace he couldn't quite get a mental grip on.  What  is  this? I don't recall any such-- He hissed, lower this time, as the strange twisting in his chest happened again, only more powerful. He went to his front knees, stumbling forwards until he stopped himself with his hands. Another concentric ripple spread out from him, again at a speed he could not determine. The first one was still plainly visible, though it could have been mere meters or several thousand kilometers from him. The twisting sensation he'd felt hadn't been painful, he realized, just surprising. He got back to his feet, prepared for another such twist now, and when none occurred, shook his head to clear it. What would be happening next? He whirled around as a sound reached him from some distance away in the void. He turned, trying to place the source, trying to figure out what the sound was. It had sounded almost like a voice, a wordless voice that called out in tones of pure emotion. Again he heard the sound, a drawn-out wail, and this time he was able to get a fix on it. He turned again to face the direction it was coming from. Before him he saw streamers of black in the void, streamers that circled and intertwined like a nest of snakes. The writhing mass grew larger as more of the streamers appeared—at least, he thought they were appearing somehow, for he could not make out any particular streamer’s origin or end. Suddenly, four of them lashed out and slammed into the ‘floor’ (which he still could not see, only infer), touching down in a rectangular pattern. The heads of the streamers were points now, and the bodies…. Well, it seemed as if the bodies were pulling away from the general mass of black and piling and twining themselves into columns atop the heads. More streams of black separated themselves from the chaos, some forming spirals in mid-air, some adding on to the four columns, and some making vague shapes and hovering at what seemed like random places. It took a few moments for him to grasp, but he saw that the shape the streamers were making was that of one of his own kind. Part of him was afraid of this being taking shape before him, but curiosity won out over his fear, and he stood calmly and watched. The form began to take on more detail, and he was able to see thin, curved antennae forming, as well as its arms and legs and other body parts. Two vague shapes extended from its back, and he did not know what they could be. There was a sudden  ‘click’ in the air, and the streamers pulled away from the body and rocketed off into the distance. The being before him was suddenly solid and fully detailed. The vague shapes, he saw, were  wings, thin and opaque, webbed with blood vessels coursing and pumping. Wings? What warrior-brother had  wings? And what warrior-brother had no scars? This one’s carapace was as smooth as one could be, utterly without any nicks or burns. It was shiny and reflective, unlike his own, which had dulled over the years until it reflected almost no light at all. The being before him raised its head, and he saw its eyes, perfect hemispheres of jet, suddenly begin to glow softly from within. The color was that of burnished gold, warm and soothing like the setting sun. Whatever it was, it was  beautiful. He was knocked speechless by the pureness of its form, unable to even greet it. [Did you not hear my call?] it asked with a soft and reassuring female voice. The words did not come from the insect before him, but echoed deep within his own head, the words seeming to vibrate within. “Call?” he said… or  tried to say. The words, even in his native tongue of clicks, clacks, and various sounds of his mandibles, did not transmit through the void. “You called?” he tried again. Nothing. The being’s antennae went up inquisitively. [Can you not speak?] It paused, cocking its head at him. [Oh! I should have realized!] It stepped towards him briskly, and before he could think to back away, it touched antennae with him. Images and thoughts exploded in his head, and he felt as if someone was turning a key to his mind. Ideas that he could not immediately grasp bloomed there, and he felt that he was somehow at the center of some great construct. A warm sensation started in his thorax and quickly spread upwards from there, finishing in his antennae, which now felt as if they were gossamer instead of hard chitin. [What have you done to me?] he said, breaking antennae contact, and then he realized that his words were no longer coming from his mouth, but from his mind. Like those of the being before him, they echoed within faintly, seeming to be more solid and permanent than his native tongue. This new voice of his seemed to be softer than normal, and yet it carried more weight, more influence. [What should have happened some time ago,] the being said. [The unlocking of your destiny… Kath’ik.] [My name! Do you not realize what you have just done?!] he cried. [You have signed my death-warrant!] Incredibly, she  laughed. It was not the laugh of someone that had just sealed his fate, but that of someone enjoying a joke. [Kath’ik, do you not know who I am?] He had to admit to himself that he didn’t. The touch of their antennae should have told him everything, but he hadn’t gotten anything except his own scent from her, and that could be for any number of reasons, such as this all being a dream. [I… do not know,] he said lamely. [Because when you scented me, you smelled only yourself. The explanation of that will take some time. I will save you the trouble of guessing and tell you, Kath’ik. I am your mother.] He recoiled in shock. [But you’re  dead! You have been dead for fifty years! For your death, I was--] [Exiled,] she completed for him. He voice was sad, almost. [Wiped from the Hive-Mind. I know these things, Kath’ik, in part because your exile was not entirely Tath’s doing. It was actually my idea.] <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."Edited by: <A HREF=http://pub3.ezboard.com/uambushbug.show ... =EN>Ambush Bug</A>  <IMG SRC="http://www.xmenclan.org/images/x.gif" BORDER=0> at: 4/23/02 10:43:34 am

X Rogue · Post by **X Rogue** » Sat Apr 20, 2002 6:48 pm

<img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... ns/eek.gif ALT=":eek"> /me likee. More? <img src="http://www.xmenclan.org/avatars/rogue_av.jpg" border="0" align="left" width="142" height="200">"Fare well wherever you fare, until your eyries receive you at your journey's end."<A href='http://pub39.ezboard.com/brohan73264'>Rohan BBS</A> <A href='http://pub3.ezboard.com/bxmenclan'>XMen BBS</A>

Spinning Hat · Post by **Spinning Hat** » Sat Apr 20, 2002 11:18 pm

wow. <map name="SHMAP"><area href="http://xmenclan.org" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="169, 72, 193, 143"><area href="http://dragontalonmercs.com" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="0, 78, 25, 141"><area href="http://pub1.ezboard.com/uspinninghat.sh ... anguage=EN" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="22, 3, 172, 30"></map><img border="0" src="http://www.xmenclan.org/sh3d2.gif" usemap="#SHMAP" width="194" height="144"> Why Do I always Die?!?!

RedSirus · Post by **RedSirus** » Mon Apr 22, 2002 10:34 pm

Nice stuff, bug! Nice stuff! <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /happy.gif ALT=":D"> <center><table border=0 cellpadding=0 cellspacing=5><td><img border="0" src="http://www.xmenclan.org/avatars/t2red.g ... ><td>RedSirus<a href=mailto:redsirus@dragontalonmercs.com>@</a> <a href=http://www.dragontalonmercs.com>Dragon Talon Mercenary</a> > <a href=http://server2.ezboard.com/bdragontalon ... > <a href=http://pub18.ezboard.com/bdtmonlinecommunity>DTM Community</a> > <a href=http://pub18.ezboard.com/fdtmonlinecomm ... s>RedSirus' Reviews</a> <a href=http://www.xmenclan.org>Brainwashed Fishmonger</a> > <a href=http://pub3.ezboard.com/bxmenclan>Forum ...

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Mon Apr 22, 2002 10:59 pm

Sorry for the late-night bumping, folks... Sirus helpd me out with some grammatical changes. Next section is coming along nicely, will be here soon. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Thu Apr 25, 2002 4:39 pm

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The revelation that is  own mother had been the one behind his exile made him physically recoil from her. [You?  You did this?!] Rage built within him, even as another part of him wanted to find out  why she could have done such a thing. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Yes,] Dath replied, her antennae drooping. [It was the most painful thing I ever had to consider, Kath’ik. It was not--] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [ Painful? To  you?! Do you know what Tath  did to me?] He was unable to keep himself from shouting, even at the Queen he’d once served. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [But--] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [And to think that you  authored it!!] he roared at her. [I would understand you sending me into a hopeless battle for the good of your hive, but what possessed you to throw your greatest warrior away without cause?! Even the butchers that  murdered you aren’t that stupid!] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath recoiled from him, antennae straight with shock at the insult just delivered. She was silent as she looked at him. Then, softly: [Because... I  had to, Kath’ik] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The shell of rage surrounding him shattered at her words. [‘Had to’?] he said, incredulous. [Had to?] he repeated again, still unable to grasp the concept of one of the mighty Queens being forced to do  anything. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Yes, I had to do it.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [For  what? What could threaten your hive--] he began. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Not our hive, Kath’ik.  All of them.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He made an inarticulate sound of confusion. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I understand your anger, Kath’ik, far better than you could know, and if you will give me the time, I will make things clear to you. But you must calm yourself, and you must trust me.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  This has  got to be a dream, he told himself. As much as he wanted to believe it, though, he was fast coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp More like a nightmare. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus was in the middle of mentally cheering Bug along when the metal warrior let loose a shriek that threatened to drive his ears straight into his skull. He saw RJ wince as well... and that was when all hell broke loose. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The encircling warriors, as one, turned to face the  vatsats standing under the  Maelstrom. With a single hiss of what sounded like anger, all of them dashed right for the diminutive ‘Derms, leaping and bounding as the quartet of warriors had done in the town plaza. Sirus ducked reflexively as two of them leaped  over him, not even paying him any attention. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp They came down on the three  vatsats and their BioDerm companion like God’s wrath. In an instant, Sirus was not able to see anything save for moving insects... but he could  hear plenty. The  vatsats’ screams echoed in the night, and then abruptly cut short. A single blaster shot rang out from the ‘Derm, and then that too was silenced as the warriors cut him to pieces.&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Holy God!” RJ cried, watching the warriors as they plunged and hacked at the still-twitching bodies. “What’s going on?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Never mind that, RJ! Now’s our chance!” Red cried, pointing at Mortok. The big ‘Derm was also watching the insects dismember his precious spies (as well as his longtime companion, Krayek), his eyes widening with each passing moment. “Go low!” Red ordered RJ, and without waiting for a reply, dashed straight for Mortok. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp When he was twenty feet away from Mortok, he leapt up, kicked on his jets, and vaulted a few meters in the air. Below, him, he saw RJ make a jet-assisted dive for Mortok’s legs. Right when RJ wrapped his arms around the reaver’s knees, Sirus came down and planted both feet smack in the middle of Mortok’s chest. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Taken totally by surprise, Mortok flew backwards until RJ’s grip on his legs made him pivot, whereupon he slammed into the pavement headfirst. Stunned, he tried to get up, using his hands to lever himself to a sitting position. Sirus didn’t give him the chance to get any further; he planted both feet to the side of Mortok’s torso and landed a huge downwards haymaker on his chin. There was a sharp ‘crack!’ of breaking bone, and Mortok’s eyes rolled up in his head as he fell back to the pavement, unconscious. From the sound of it, Sirus thought he’d shattered the reaver’s jaw. Mortok wouldn’t be getting up any time soon. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You put him out?” RJ asked, still clutching Mortok’s knees. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yeah, think so.” Red straightened up and looked around, wondering what the insects were doing. When he turned to face where the  vatsats had been standing, he received a shock. The insects were all on the ground, sprawled every which way, as if they’d fallen in the middle of combat. Had the reaver guarding the  vatsats done something...? Red peered more closely at them, and the dismissed the BioDerm guard as the cause, primarily because said ‘Derm was in multiple, ragged pieces strewn over the pavement. The same was true for the  vatsats, only more so--they were little more than smears now. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Eeeyuch,” RJ said from behind him. Sirus turned to see his companion standing and brushing himself off. “What happened to those guys?” RJ asked, gesturing at the  vatsats. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “The warriors,” Sirus said, pointing to the sprawled insects. “Looks like they went berserk.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “So what now?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus put chin in hand for a moment, then: “Grab some cargo cables and tie up Mortok... hell, mummify him. I don’t want him getting away. I’ll go check on Bug while you’re doing that.” RJ nodded and headed off for the  Maelstrom’s cargo bay. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red turned and looked to his friend. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Ambush was still standing somehow, though he looked as if he were unconscious. The metal warrior he’d been fighting lay on the ground, limbs asprawl, broken mandible bleeding slowly. Sirus could hear both of them breathing softly, and aside from that, neither of them was moving. Red walked towards his friend, taking care to stay a good distance from the metal warrior. As he passed it, he was able to see the damage Bug had inflicted. Aside from its mandible (now a broken, twisted wreck), there was a deep, thin line across its torso from a staff-strike, and below that, a fist-sized crater in the chitin with Bug’s knuckles distinctly imprinted at the bottom. A few feet away, a small spread of chitin shards lay on the ground, thrown there from the impact. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug looked to be in much better shape, though his thorax armor looked as if someone had emptied a chaingun into it. The metal warrior’s constant pounding on it during the final grapple had completely ruined the smooth arc of its shape. There were several dozen dents, ranging from millimeter dings to ones deep enough to be called craters. As Red got closer, he realized that the only thing keeping Bug on his feet was the angle of his legs against the ground. Ambush was completely out of it, his breathing slow and steady and deep. His head was slumped forward and his antennae hung limply. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Shivers went down Red’s spine as he realized that every insect around him was unconscious... and they’d all gone down within seconds of each other. True, the warriors had first killed Mortok’s  vatsats, but that hadn’t taken very long. What  was this? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was then that he noticed that Bug was trembling. Sirus looked closely and saw that Bug’s entire body was shaking ever so slightly, so slightly that it was impossible to notice more than a few feet away. Though Bug’s hands and arms still hung limply at his sides, Sirus backed away, nerves jangling. This was too similar to Bug’s fall from the APC... way too similar. The last time anything like this had happened, he’d been tackled by three hundred kilos of armored mantis warrior and come within a hair of losing his head. He kept his eyes locked on his friend as he commanded his armor to tap into the local circuit. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “RJ,” he said very quietly into his mike. “Have you got Mortok trussed up yet?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yeah,” RJ said, grunting. Sirus heard the clank of metal on metal in the background and was fairly certain that RJ had dragged him into the cargo bay. “At least four cables and fifty turns... plug-ugly isn’t going anywhere soon, that’s for sure. What’s up?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Good. Have the cargo doors open for me... I’m coming back in, and when I’m in there, I want you to lock them.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Red, you all right? You sound.... nervous.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus laughed tensely. “You could say that, RJ.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp They sat facing each other, antennae touching gently, two beings as an island within the void. Bug was calmer now, his surprise and shock dissipated. Though the question of just  why Dath had plotted his exile still rolled around within him, he was not so angry now as to try and force the answer from her. The nagging suspicion that what he was experiencing was not a dream at all made him patient. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Before him, Dath was a shadow, a hole punched into the void. Her carapace was so pure of color that it actually  hurt to look at her against the void, and so he focused mainly on her eyes, golden globes stark against the ebony of her shell. That he had never seen her before like this only made her more beautiful—his last memories of her were those of when she was large and immobile within her hive, a huge bloated egg-laying machine tucked into the most secure part of her domain. And  wings…he ached to have wings like hers, even though he knew they would never be strong enough to carry him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Why do you look at me so?] she asked, cocking her head at him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Because I have never seen anyone so… remarkable… in my lifetime. My last image of you is quite different.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She tittered softly. [Here, Kath’ik, I can appear however I wish, and I had fond memories from before the time of my final metamorphosis into a full queen. It only seemed fitting.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [‘Here’? Where  is ‘here’, anyway?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Everywhere. Nowhere. Think of it as the vehicle of your destiny.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [That’s another way of saying you don’t want to tell me everything right now, isn’t it?] he asked, hoping to chide an answer out of her. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Precisely,] Dath stated matter-of-factly. He was hard-pressed not to laugh, having his own verbal tactics turned on him so adroitly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [So, what  can you tell me, Dath? Is this a dream I’m having? That’s what I really want to know at the moment.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [A dream?] Her voice became serious. [No, this is not a dream, Kath’ik. I wish it were. My sorrow would be less for it, and your fate a better one.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp […my fate?] he said, dubious and at the same time fearful of what her words might possibly foreshadow. [What of my fate?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [It is linked irrevocably with our race’s past, Kath’ik. And that is where we must begin, if I am to make you understand what has happened. It is there your feet will first tread the path you must follow.] She made some mental gesture, something that he could feel through their contact, and the void changed. In an eyeblink, it went from featureless grey to a black like that of the deepest tunnels of a hive. [Fear not, my son, for this is merely the backdrop upon which you will see our past.] Dath’s eyes were the only illumination he had available to him, and he could make out her shape in the dark only by the gold-hued reflections from her carapace. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [How…. How far are we going?] he asked timidly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Before the Tenets, and long before my own time.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He felt a small twinge of vertigo, which left just as quickly as it had come. When it was no more, he noticed that his surroundings were….well….  surroundings instead of black nothingness. He and Dath sat on firm ground covered in thick, lush grass, the blades of which whispered over their feet and brushed against their abdomens. A quick glance around showed him that they were actually on an earthen bluff that overlooked a  vast plain of tall grass. It was nighttime, and starlight was the only illumination here. He glanced up to look at the stars, and saw with some discomfort that none of the stars were in recognizable positions, not even close to any of the patterns he’d seen in his travels. Where the hell  was this place? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You may break contact, Kath’ik,] Dath told him. [Stand. Go look to the plain.] He stood and did as she asked of him. When he came to the edge of the bluff and looked out over the plain, he was unsure of what he was seeing. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The entire plain... it seemed to be  moving. The starlight was too weak for him to make out any fine details, but he could see that something in truly  massive numbers was moving through the grass. It was like watching someone move one piece of mesh behind another—he could tell that the mesh was moving, but he couldn’t tell which  way it was moving due to the interference of the grids. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [What is this?] he asked, staring outwards. Dath came up beside him and stood. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Don’t use your eyes, Kath’ik. Use your antennae. Then you will know.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He lifted them and waved them around, trying to catch something, anything... It was then that the breeze changed direction, blowing towards him now, and what it carried made him do a double-take. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [So...   many..!] he got out, stunned by the vast array of scents that washed over him. He counted ten...twelve... fifteen different hive-scents on the air. Warriors from every homeworld were on this plain, gathered in a large group--no, a  horde--and they were not fighting each other, as he expected. Instead, the great mass of insects spread across the plain was moving along peacefully. They were all heading to the left, their passage strangely quiet for such a massive host. All he could hear was the scabrous whisper of grass-blades sliding across chitin as the warriors moved below. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [What is this?] he asked Dath, once he was able to put aside his shock. [And where are we?  When are we?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath’s voice was subdued and tinged with sorrow. [This is the homeworld of  Chat-ka, two thousand years ago.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He bobbed his antennae inquisitively. [Like the staff?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She nodded. [Yes. It was first used here.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Interesting... but I’ve never heard of a homeworld by that name.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [With good reason, Kath’ik. It was destroyed as the result of our Great Civil War.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [A civil war?] How could his race have a civil war? From what Dath had told him long ago, the Hive-Mind that linked all Queens and their children together made it utterly impossible for any major conflict to be anything but fruitless. Linked to each other’s minds, warring Queens were aware of the other’s plans even as they occurred, a fact that made such battles into complete anarchy as each Queen struggled to keep up with the massive amounts of information coming from her warriors and the other Queen. As a result, he knew, there were plenty of small ‘squabbles’ that dealt with no more than a few thousand warriors at a time, but no hive was able to attack another  en masse without paralyzing itself in the process. That was not counting the almost one-to-one kill ratio that such conflicts brought--every Queen felt the death of her warriors in herself, and if too many of them died over a short period of time, she would be weakened both physically and mentally. Attacking another hive was just asking to die. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Yes.] Dath gestured with her hands, and the scene before them blurred as their viewpoint changed position. From what he could see, they were flying to the west (or so he thought of it), following the horde of warriors as they marched. Once he and Dath left the bluff, he could make out no terrain features at all. The plain was almost perfectly flat, and there were no hills within sight, nor were there trees or lakes or streams. It was just never-ending grass. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Night changed quickly to day, and he realized that Dath was accelerating the passage of time for this vision... or whatever it was she was showing him. They were still moving through the air at great speed, covering a huge amount of distance in very little time. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Now you will see what this war was all about,] Dath intoned as they slowed down. He looked ahead and saw a dark shape on the plain. He didn’t need to be told that it was made up of who knew how many warriors. They caught up with the attacking army quickly enough, and now, in the daylight, he could see the individual colors of the fifteen hives. Everything from the green of his own hive to the dark brown of the  Tik hive was present, a rainbow of chitin. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He made a quick estimate of the warriors arrayed below, and was surprised when he came up with a figure of almost three quarters of a million warriors. To put forth that many warriors took huge effort on the part of the attacking Queens. While a Queen could not leave her hive, she could send a ‘war-daughter’ to the planet in question. These daughters, still unborn eggs, were hurled into space with the might of a Queen’s willpower. When they landed on a planet, they hatched, sought shelter, and began to birth the army the attacking Queen would use. They acted as something of a relay station for the Queen, transmitting mental commands to the army. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath moved them further still, until they were nearly over the battle line drawn between the attacking and defending armies. As he looked over this line, he noted one thing out of place immediately--the defending warriors were  white. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [White shells?] he asked, turning to Dath. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [The sixteenth hive, Kath’ik. These are the warriors of the rebel queen.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [What did she do?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You will see momentarily,] Dath replied, gesturing for him to look at the battle line again. He did, and now he noted that the defending warriors were  vastly outnumbered; at least twelve-to-one by his estimate. What possible hope could they have against that many attackers? Even as he asked himself this question, he saw that the attackers were pushing the whites back. The whites were losing warriors at an alarming pace. He turned to ask Dath what good it would do to show him the slaughter in progress when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the whites making maneuvers. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Their line, which had up until now been an unbroken wall, suddenly buckled in the middle as their central forces retreated. That their Queen had ordered them to retreat was odd enough--most Queens didn’t want to lose face in a battle--but that she would do it on an open plain, where the breach could quickly be taken advantage of, was mystifying. As if in response to his thoughts, the attackers started pouring more warriors into the breach, preparing to split the line and carve up the remaining whites at their leisure. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What he saw next stunned him. The whites to either side of the breach suddenly charged at the attacking force... and the attackers  didn’t even react. The whites were cutting down warriors left and right, and not a single one of the attackers raised a hand to defend themselves. The whites blew through five ranks of warriors before he noticed any response. Ponderously, the charging forces turned and spread as if to encircle the whites. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp When they did this, the whites that had retreated suddenly burst forward, plunging into the bulge of the battle line. They split the bulge in half quickly, killing every warrior in their way as if they were mowing grass. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [What is going on here? Why aren’t the attacking warriors reacting in time?] he asked. [Don’t the Queens know of the white Queen’s plans?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Yes, they do, Kath’ik... but the plans they are gleaning from her mind are not the plans being carried out.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [What? You mean...] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [The warriors.... are attacking on their own.] <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

RedSirus · Post by **RedSirus** » Thu Apr 25, 2002 5:28 pm

Ooh, that sent a tingle down my spine. Nice work, Bug. <img src=http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/im ... /smile.gif ALT=":)">

Spinning Hat · Post by **Spinning Hat** » Thu Apr 25, 2002 8:42 pm

Post more! Post More! <map name="SHMAP"><area href="http://xmenclan.org" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="169, 72, 193, 143"><area href="http://dragontalonmercs.com" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="0, 78, 25, 141"><area href="http://pub1.ezboard.com/uspinninghat.sh ... anguage=EN" target="_blank" shape="rect" coords="22, 3, 172, 30"></map><img border="0" src="http://www.xmenclan.org/sh3d2.gif" usemap="#SHMAP" width="194" height="144"> Why Do I always Die?!?!

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Sun Apr 28, 2002 4:19 pm

Dath waved a hand and the battle below them stopped as if it were a holo-film on pause. The whites were easily discernable among the army they were routing--for that’s what this battle had become, a full-blown rout--some of them with  chatkas in mid-stroke. [I can sense your confusion, Kath’ik.] Dath approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. [You have  no idea...] he muttered softly. [What you see before you is the result of the white queen’s genetic engineering. No record was ever kept telling us  why she did this, but we know that  what she did was to make her warriors individuals instead of minds dependent upon the collective.] [But,] he said. [...what’s the harm in that? Why start a war over it?] [The crux of the matter... as always, you seem to leap straight to the heart of difficulties, Kath’ik. There were many reasons given for the war--to stop a desecration of our values, pure anger, to preserve our heritage--but I think now, after much speculation, that the motivator was  fear.] [ Fear? What could make the hive Queens so fearful as to have to...] he trailed off, looking below at the frozen battle.  That was what they feared, he realized... a complete and total paradigm shift. No longer could Queens be secure in the knowledge that attacking another Queen was a futile gesture and likely a suicidal one. With warriors like these, disconnected from the Queen’s mind, one might send them anywhere without fear of the mental consequences. Such warriors would allow a Queen to conquer and hold a much larger area... instead of ruling single planets, she might be able to control an entire solar systems, or even a closely grouped set of such systems. [So they attacked her before she could become powerful enough to threaten them, is that it?] he asked Dath, still staring at the battle. [Could they not have reasoned with her?] [Kath’ik, you do not understand queens very well. Not only were they frightened of  her power, they were terrified of the idea of a queen’s warriors being self-aware. What if the warriors rebelled against their own queen?] For a moment, he was tempted to let his anger bloom again. Who was she to ask him such a question, in light of what she had done to him? He pulled away from her hand instead and stood some distance from her. [ I never rebelled against you, Dath. Self-aware or not, what possible use would a rebellion serve? A Queen needs her warriors, and they need her. Were the others too paranoid to see even that simple truth?] Dath cocked her head at him. [You have changed since your time with me, Kath’ik. You have.... grown.] [You try living among humans for fifty years and see what it does to you, Dath. When you live in a vast sea of individuals, you either learn to float among the others or you cling to your old ways, like a weight, and drown.] Dath looked him up and down slowly, as if re-evaluating him. [Were we in a different time and place, I would enjoy discussing these subjects with you at length. But neither you nor I have the luxury of idle time.] She waved her hand again and the battle resumed, the whites continuing their counterattack. [As you can see, the white queen was simply showing the other queens what she  wanted them to see, while her warriors carried out plans determined among their own number. That is why the attacking army cannot react in time, for they are obeying orders to counter the white queen’s nonexistent plans.] [Information warfare,] he muttered, almost to himself. What this Queen was doing to the multi-colored warriors was an extreme example, and a primitive one, but it was information warfare nonetheless. [But you said that the attacking Queens  won the Civil War, Dath. It doesn’t look like they could possibly outmaneuver the white Queen, or surprise her.] [It was not a war centered around one battle,] Dath said. [It was a war of attrition.] As she said this, their viewpoint changed, moving further to the west until they came to a small ring of hills that stood out from the flatness of the plain. In the center of the ring there was a slanted hole in the ground, a hole he recognized as the main thoroughfare into a hive. There were undoubtedly other entrances, but they would all be small, and most likely sealed in time of war. Huge numbers of whites thronged the area within the hills, and there was a large number holding positions atop each hill. [This is as it was at the beginning of the war...] Dath said, and then made another gesture. Their view changed abruptly, flicking forward in time too fast for him to see any details. It stopped after a few seconds. [...and this is what it was like at the end of the war.] To call what he saw ‘changed’ was an understatement. The plain and hills, which had once been covered in waist-deep grass, were bare as far as the eye could see. The earth was no longer fertile. It was hard-packed into a flat, unforgiving substance reminiscent of a salt flat. But that was not what immediately caught his attention. Surrounding the hills was an army, a legion, so numerous that he could not even hope to make an estimate of their size. They blacked the ground with their numbers, and among them he could make out huge multicolored piles, piles that on closer inspection turned out to be mountains of dead and broken warriors, heaped that way to get them out of the way of the army. The piles closest to the hive entrance were all fresh, in some cases still slick with the blood and entrails of the fallen warriors. The piles farther away, however, were duller, the chitin of the dead warriors paled and brittle with age. [How.... how much time has passed?] he asked weakly, unable to take it all in. [Eighty years,] Dath responded. [This is the final battle.] He tried, with little success, to hide his shock. The whites, he saw, were being forced back into the tunnels now. The white Queen was unable to use her abilities of misdirection to her advantage; this was now a battle of pure brute force, and she would certainly lose it. [This does not look like a battle of attrition to me,] he remarked to Dath. [It is not. The preceding years were the attrition, and this is the culmination of that. The reason this war took eighty years to complete was that she kept slaughtering our war-daughters before they could entrench themselves. Though she was able to deceive the attacking queens, they were not able to do the same to her, and the launch of a war-daughter was always known to her. It eventually came down to which side could produce more warriors, and this is where she lost. The attacking queens sent so many war-daughters over the years that the white queen was forced to spread warriors across the entire planet to try and intercept them. This weakened her forces at her hive, but the more important thing was that it eventually overtaxed her reproductive organs. Two years before this time, they finally gave out, and she was unable to lay any more eggs.] [And so they swarmed her...] he finished. [Horrifying.] He felt some wonder that this lone Queen had held out for so long against forces fifteen times her own. He also felt sympathy for her, for her only crime had been granting intelligence to her warriors. What would those warriors have been like, had he been able to meet them? He watched as the huge army forced its way into the hive, unable to take his eyes from the sight. There were so many warriors that it looked as if they made up some viscous liquid being poured down the entrance shaft. [We sent our warriors down there and slaughtered her. We tore her to pieces, smashed her eggs, killed her daughters, and fired the hive. Then we burned every corpse, our own included, and then salted the earth. Only then was it over.] As Dath described this, he saw flashing images of the plain as the tasks were carried out. The burning piles of warriors made day into night with their thick, choking smoke. The hive area, once the cleansing flames died out, collapsed in upon itself, causing most of the plain to become pockmarked with sinkholes and canyons. He saw hordes of workers driving tons of salt into the earth, making it impossible for anything to ever grow there again.  He was unable to think of anything to say to this. Dath’s flat narration of these events chilled him, made him wonder what her purpose was. She had spoken of ‘understanding’ these things, but all he saw from it was pointless slaughter. What was there to understand in that? [From this came the Hive Tenets,] Dath said. As she spoke, the vision below them faded into black, and he was again alone with her in the void. [“Make no intelligence other than Queens.” “Destroy those that do.”] Her voice was cold, sorrowful. [And yet, you broke them yourself, Dath. You shattered them when you created me.] She turned on him, suddenly firm. [Do you think I showed you this to give you a weapon with which to chastise me?  I had a purpose in what I did.] Her eyes glowed more brightly with her anger, brightly enough that he could now see himself in the void. [You will now see  why I did this.] A bright spear of sunlight burst through the void, powerful enough to make him cringe and shield his eyes. When the spots in his vision cleared he saw a view that he was certain he would never see again. Home. Before him he saw the familiar rolling dunes of his youth, a vast desert broken only by sharp and ragged spines of rock. The sky was as blue as sapphire, without a cloud to mar its purity. Invisible hands of wind picked up sand and blew it from the tops of dunes, forming and shaping unknowable patterns. He stood speechless with wonder at the sight of it all. Here was the place he had first gained his mind, here was the place where he had become one with his weapon, here was the place where he had served as the consummate warrior to his Queen. It had been a hard life, but a happy one, he realized. Not at all like the chaos that surrounded him now. Dath’s voice was softer now, the anger gone. [We come now to our home, Kath’ik, at a time when I was still young in my duties. When our kind first interacted with Man and his creations. Look to the sky.] He turned his gaze up and beheld something that looked like a second sun in the sky. It was not a sun, but a meteor of some kind flaring to white-hot brightness as it plummeted through the atmosphere. Within a few moments, the glare around it diminished enough for him to see that it was not a meteor at all, but some kind of cylindrical shape at the head of a long tail of flame. The shape came down to earth, impacting into the ocean of sand. A huge column of flame boiled up from the impact crater, even as sand scattered for thousands of yards. Moments later, another cylinder crashed down, then another. Within minutes, almost a dozen of them landed. [What are they?] he asked, even though he knew what they were already. He’d seen enough footage of them crashing down onto the surface of planets from the old human history films. [Cybrids.] The cylinders split open, revealing the bipedal forms of Cybrid HERCULANS. The HERCs quickly gathered together and began heading off to the north, their huge feet making loose prints in the shifting sands. [They came without warning. They were fleeing from the humans after the defeat of their creator, Prometheus. Somehow, this group of them chose to land on our world.] He had a good idea of what was going to happen. He didn't want to see it. Dath showed him anyway. [I was stupid,] she said. [I thought them little more than giants.] The scene changed again, in location this time. The group of HERCs was finished with their explorations, and was gathered, its pilots communing with each other. Suddenly, there was a whispering all around, the whispering of thousands of insect feet lightly treading across the sand. A wave of green warriors broke over the crest of a nearby dune, and charged the group. He could easily hear the hissing battle cries of his ancestors as they hurled themselves into the fray. They never made it. The lead HERC pivoted first and brought its weapons to bear moments before its companions did the same. Bright flashes pierced the night as they let loose with their powerful weapons... ... and the ten front ranks of the insect warriors simply ceased to exist, blown into atoms by the power of the HERC weaponry. The remaining warriors paused for just a moment as the shockwaves rolled over them, then continued their charge. He was unable to keep himself from reaching out into the vision, as if to stop the massacre. There was another salvo of weapons-fire, and insect bodies were, if not atomized, tossed through the air in broken pieces. The sand underneath them fused into silicate glass from the sheer heat and power of the Cybrid weaponry. Now there were only a few hundred left, and he saw that they still continued to attack. Now they were close enough to actually grapple with the giants. He saw dozens of them climbing over the bodies of the HERCs, pounding on them with  chatkas and other melee weapons. .... all to no avail. The Cybrids casually picked the warriors off one by one, blowing them clean off the HERCs of their companions. It was over very quickly. He slumped with despair. The senselessness of it all! [This continued for several weeks.] Dath reached to him and touched him on the shoulder, urging him to stand up. [I lost most of my warriors the process, Kath'ik. But I did not lose all hope. See what happened.] The scene changed again, to a vast expanse of desert backed up against a gigantic mountain. He knew this place--it was the main entrance to his own hive. The HERCs were arrayed around the base of the mountain, firing at will. [They sought to block us in, once they found the location of our entrance. I believe they intended to collapse the mountainside down upon us.] He saw a huge rockslide as it barreled down the mountainside. Some of the stones were as large as tanks. [But I had other plans for them.] There was a rumbling now, not the rumbling of loosed rock and stone, but the kind of rumbling that precedes the tortured screams of collapsing earth. He looked at the desert, wondering where it was coming from, what was causing it. And then he knew. It was the collapse of tunnels and caves under the sand. The desert sands opened wide, and the entire area underneath the Cybrid HERCs began to sink and break up. The bipedal HERCs, unable to keep their footing in the rapidly shifting sands, began to topple over on their sides. A few of them tried to escape by running for the edge of the gigantic sinkhole, but they did not make it. The sands were coming down too fast, and they too were felled. Workers poured out of the hive entrance in a living stream, and they swarmed over the fallen HERCs. They took care to stay out of the Cybrid firing arcs--at the cost of many of her warriors, Dath had learned this crucial lesson. They approached the HERCs from the rear, swarming and clacking and hissing their way over the bodies of the machines. Within moments, workers were at every fallen HERC, pulling at the machines with their huge mandibles. The weapons were ripped off their mounts and thrown to the side. It took time, but the advanced metals soon gave way under the constant strain, and the cockpits were torn open. The Cybrid pilots tried to fight back, but it was useless to resist. Ripped free of their all-powerful machines, they were quickly torn to pieces. Where once purple insect blood stained the earth, brightly colored machine fluids made pools on the ground. His shock was immense. He'd done the research on HERCs, had read about the numerous failed attempts to overwhelm them with infantry, read about the horrific death tolls inflicted on hardshell troops. Yet Dath had done the impossible--made a clean sweep. Not counting the losses she'd taken before her unusual tactics, her plan had been a complete success. [...amazing...] he breathed softly. Dath did not respond to the compliment, but continued with her recollection. [We took the machines and the bodies and buried them deep under the earth. I wanted no trace of them to remain to mark us as targets for more of their kind. I lost over a million warriors before that last gambit, and I had to take time to replenish the hive.] Before them, the workers dragged the huge war-machines into newly-constructed tunnels that led deep under the nearest mountain. The sinkhole was filled quickly enough, both through the efforts of the workers and by the screaming maelstrom of a seasonal sandstorm that passed a few days later. It was as if the Cybrids had never landed. [You kept the bodies?] [What was I to do with them? I could not burn them, and we could not easily destroy the advanced metals. Casting them into space would have been too much effort. It was easier to hide them.] [And to study them?] She turned to face him again. [That as well.] He sensed that she was appraising him once more. [Yes, I studied them--I had to know their weaknesses should they come again.] Time passed in the vision... centuries, it seemed. The mountain visibly changed shape, worn by the endless blowing sands of the desert. Hard spikes became rounded knobs of stone and rifts in the rock widened until they became deep canyons. Now they were careening through the main entrance, down the tunnels, deep into the hive. He knew where they were going within a few moments--straight to Dath's chamber. Had she stored the bodies there? No, she had not, he saw. They looked upon the Dath of long ago, a young Queen, bloated and white with eggs. The black of her carapace was faded and no longer shiny, for all of her energies were devoted to laying eggs. Even her eyes were dim, only a faint speck of golden light in each. He saw the drones servicing her in the back of the room, watched the workers as they plucked each egg from her and carried it off to be cared for. Several air-circulating workers clung to the walls, their powerful wings beating endlessly in an effort to keep the temperature in the chamber at the right level. [We are granted many powers by the Hive-Mind, Kath’ik,] Dath told him. [One of them is precognition. The attack of the Cybrids triggered it within me, and in the centuries after their landing, I tried to fathom a way to avoid what I saw.] [You could see into the future?] [Yes. I saw what every Queen fears the most; the complete and utter destruction of her hive. But what I saw was not limited to that. I would not have gone so far, or acted so brutally in my plans, if it were just my own hive at stake. No, what I saw was the destruction of  all of our hives... and not by our own hand.] He cocked his head at her, wanting her to continue. [I had to find some way of escaping the annihilation that I saw. I could not convince the other queens of the truth of my sight--they told me that our race was too widespread for anything to destroy us all. They told me that no disease could fell us, for we would know of that disease through the Hive-Mind, and quarantine the afflicted planet. They told me civil wars were a thing of the past. They told me that we were safe. [I did not believe them.] There was a new motion in the chamber, he saw. The warriors set to guard the vision-Dath pulled back from the entrance and put their weapons at attention. In the dim light of the chamber, he could barely make out the form of a warrior entering between the guards. This warrior was young, he saw, and fresh from battle. His  chatka staff was coated in blood, as was his carapace, and fresh burns and dents covered his carapace. [And so I plotted a way to save our race, without the help or approval of the other queens. I had to make a way to preserve our essence should all of our hives be destroyed and we queens murdered.] [How?] Dath did not respond, but only pointed at the blood-soaked warrior. He looked, unsure of what she meant by her gesture. Then he saw it, and recognition came. The scars were in the right places, the markings on the warrior’s shoulder... the staff was all too familiar. It was himself. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."Edited by: <A HREF=http://pub3.ezboard.com/uambushbug.show ... =EN>Ambush Bug</A>  <IMG SRC="http://www.xmenclan.org/images/x.gif" BORDER=0> at: 4/28/02 8:10:00 pm

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Tue May 14, 2002 8:58 pm

He backed away from the vision, away from the young warrior at which Dath pointed. Away from Dath, even. What she was implying with her extended hand was too much for him to absorb at once. At the time of his change, she had told him that she was using him as an experiment to see how cybernetically-enhanced warriors with intellect would fare. She wanted him to be her best warrior, the prototype for those to come after him. Now he knew that to be false. Dath’s actions in creating him were grounds for another Great Civil War, and the sorrow he’d sensed emanating from her as she showed him the vision of that horrible conflict convinced him that a war like that was the absolute  last thing she wanted. Now he knew that she had a purpose in his creation. He felt a vague sense of pride that she had chosen him for the task, even though he did not yet know what that task was. He realized now that the education she’d given him in the arts of war was not only to make him a better warrior, but for him to fit her plans, and again he felt pride. But then doubt clutched him in its scabrous hands--if she had a plan for him, and hadn’t told him what it was at the time, was it possible that she hadn’t told him everything she’d changed about him as well? He looked at her, appraising her. By her own confession, her plans had been brutal, for she had admitted to machinating his exile. Yes, it was highly likely that she hadn’t told him everything. But that left him with a question--what  had she done to him? [Dath.... just what exactly did you  do to me? A mere cyborg can’t be what you’re wanting.] [You are not a ‘mere’ anything, Kath’ik.] Exasperated, he turned to her. [Then would you stop dancing around the subject and  show me?] Dath straightened in surprise at his rebuke. [It is not pretty,] she began. [Neither was the Civil War, Dath!] [This is not how I wanted to do this.] Edging on anger now, he strode up to her and got face-to-face with her. [Show me what you did... or I will  leave.] He didn’t know how he could leave this place, or even if it was possible, but something in the back of his mind told him that it was the one thing he could say that would instantly grab Dath’s complete and total attention. Her antennae went straight with shock. [You  wouldn’t!] He reached out and tapped her chest with a finger, just as he would do with one of his trainees when angry. [I would, and I  will if I don’t get some answers soon. In case you’ve forgotten, while I’m ‘here’, wherever the hell ‘here’  is, I lay unconscious while my dearest human friend and one of my brothers-in-arms fight for their very lives.] [Kath’ik, this is so much more important than--] [Their lives? To  you maybe, because you  know everything. Not to me.] He restrained a much more caustic remark only with a great exercise of willpower. [ Show me .] He knew that Dath was not used to taking orders from anyone. None of the Queens were, for each ruled a kingdom complete unto itself, connected with others only through a mental link. Thus, it told him a great deal about the severity of the conflict within Dath when she acquiesced almost immediately. Dath turned from him and made several sweeping gestures this time, instead of the single wave of her hand she had been using to conjure up the previous scenes. In fact, as he watched her, it seemed to him that she was pushing aside veils, or forcing her way through underbrush in order to bring the next vision to them. Finally, after a time of Dath’s efforts, the void around them changed once more. They were now in some kind of room that appeared to be hewn from the heart of a mountain. Like all hive-rooms, it was more spherical than it was rectangular, but unlike most, the walls of this room were almost perfectly smooth. There was a dim green light that permeated the very air itself here, and by that light he could just barely make out different shades and veins of rock in the walls. Off at one end was a small round doorway carved into the stone. It was small enough that a worker could not squeeze through, and even a thin-limbed warrior would have trouble fitting himself through it. Scattered just inside the door were several piles of metal. Closer examination revealed them to be what looked like sections of armor plate and strings of nano-muscles. Several of the plates had markings carved into them--with a chill, he realized the markings were all Cybrid. Further inside the room he saw something that resembled a worker, but was like none he had ever seen before. Its head and torso were that of a weapon-smith worker; huge jaws, strong muscles to drive them, and huge sacs of powerful acids mounted on its back, which it used to reduce raw metal into its component parts for re-forging. That was normal enough. But as he looked further down the worker’s body, all similarity to the familiar disappeared. Its abdomen was monstrous and bloated, stretched to the point of transparency. It was easily twenty feet in diameter and filled with some bright green liquid. To his surprise, he saw things  swimming in the liquid. He peered at them closely, wondering what they were... and all interest in them was lost when he saw what they were clustering around. It  had to be himself. There wasn’t any other explanation. But he could not recognize the warrior that floated in the worker’s abdomen, held afloat by long ropy tendrils of flesh tethered to the sides of the abdomen walls. His body was almost completely without a carapace, and his organs and muscles floated freely in the liquid, held in shape by tiny threads of flesh. As he watched, a large number of them swam down to the floor of the chamber and clasped onto a shiny metallic cable. He knew what it was instantly--nano-muscle. The swimmers hauled it up from the floor and made for one of his legs. Another group of them met them at the end of the leg. When the two masses of swimmers converged, they began an intricate dance around the leg, and as he watched, they carefully peeled the fleshy strip of muscle from its tethers and replaced it with the nano-muscle. The liquid was so clear he could easily see nubs of chitin welded to the nano-muscle that would be used as anchors to the rest of his carapace. [I don’t remember any of this,] he said, looking to Dath. [You should be little surprised at that, Kath’ik. The process was... extensive. You were unconscious for almost an entire year while the tiny workers rebuilt you.] [A  year?] [Rebuilding your body was not the difficult part, Kath’ik. That was accomplished with relative ease. Even the organic alloy-chitin that serves as your carapace took no more than a month to create and emplace, and that was the hardest part.] [What then?] [That.] Dath stepped forward lightly and tapped him in the center of his thorax. He looked down at her hand, then back to her face. It was fairly obvious what she was referring to, for there was only one thing of importance in his chest. [My central computer? Isn’t it just an old Cybrid data-bank you ripped out of a HERC?] That was what he knew it to be from Warren’s many probes, at least. [It is much more than that... and it is what made this so difficult.] Dath gestured to the room. He looked and saw that some time had passed, for the swimmers were now most of the way through the process of putting his new carapace in place. Momentarily, a cloud of them retrieved something from the bottom of the liquid chamber and swam towards his chest, where there was a large hole in the chitin. They carried what looked to be a perfectly smooth sphere of jet-black material. Whatever it was, it did  not look like a piece of electronics. [That is the mind of one of my daughters,] Dath said. Her voice was a faint whisper now. [I made her...ending... gentle.] As she spoke, the swimmers put the egg into the middle of his chest, between his hearts. When it was in place, it quivered once and then shot out long ropy threads of metallic-looking material that instantly grafted themselves to the inside of his thorax. When the ends of the threads were fully dug in, the threads shortened and became taut. Seconds later, they and the sphere changed color from jet to an almost mirror-like chrome. [A.... Queen? In me?] He was unable to stop himself from looking down at his own chest again, or to keep his hands from scrabbling over the central ridge of his thorax. A Queen? Inside of him? A  dead Queen? The swimmers were rapidly closing the hole in his chest now, grafting chitin into place. [Why? Why would you murder one of your own daughters, Dath?] She flinched away from him. [Do not twist my words so, Kath’ik! I had no choice in what I did, and if you think I still do not feel pain...] He did not think that. Her emotions were plain to him, and he could feel her sorrow even though he was not in contact with her. [I’m sorry,] he said quietly. [That was unfair of me. But I still do not understand why you did this.] Dath sighed, and the void around them went black again. She squatted down, antennae drooping. [I tried to avoid it, Kath’ik. I hoped that when I granted you sentience, you would be able to hold it all when the time came. But your mind is simply not built for it, and I was forced to find another way to contain it all. I had no choice but to use the untainted mind of one of my unborn daughters.] She looked up at him plaintively, as if expecting him to know the answer already. [Have you never wondered why your ‘computer’ has no limit on its storage capacity?] He did a mental double-take. Now that he thought of it...he  hadn’t ever thought of it. He’d simply assumed the computer in his chest was just very efficient. But, what was the ‘it’ Dath was referring to? [And what was this... mind.... to contain?] he asked gently, squatting down next to her. [Us.] The word sent chills down his spine, and for the first time since he’d come to this place, he had an idea of just what the ‘construct’ he was entangled within  was. On the heels of that, things began to click into place. Dath knew of his human friends, even though she was fifty years dead. She had portended of some great threat to the hives... [You’re inside of me, aren’t you? In that Queen-mind in my chest?] Dath nodded. [That is correct, though I am not the only one. Inside that globe is the Hive-Mind, Kath’ik. That is why I made it--made you. To be a place for the Hive-Mind to retreat should my dreams of annihilation come to pass.] That he now held within him the entirety of his race’s memory was shock enough, but what it meant was even more of one. [You’re all... dead... aren’t you?] He found that he couldn’t control his voice, or the trembling of his body. Sadly, Dath nodded again. [Yes. Wiped out in a stroke, within minutes.] [Minutes?  How?] [The Horned Ones, Kath’ik.] He stumbled over the name, not able to place it... and then it clicked. BioDerms. Immediately, he wondered how they could have accomplished such a feat, to simultaneously destroy fifteen hives and blast through at least eighty million warrior-brothers. Could they have the manpower to open such a humongous third front? All that he knew told him they did not... and yet, they had somehow accomplished the deed. It was so puzzling that he did not have time for hate or anger. Instead, his training was taking over, shielding him from the shock of knowing he was perhaps the last of his kind. [Dath, you have to show me how it happened.] [I suspected you would ask that, Kath’ik. It is good to hear you ask that question, for it means you have not given up hope.] She stood now and motioned once more, her arms barely visible in the blackness. Unlike before, where the visions she conjured took up the entire void, engulfed them, even, there were now separate scenes laid out before them. He counted quickly and was not surprised when he came up with fifteen views. Each view showed the chamber of a Hive Queen, each of them huge and immobile. He noticed for the first time that no matter what the color of her warriors’ chitin, a Queen was always encased in a black carapace, like Dath. He wondered if that had been true for the rebel Queen of the Great Civil War. Suddenly, each scene erupted into motion, warriors bolting to guard formations at once. The sounds of fighting could be heard from each vision, and it was impossible not to recognize the explosive power of hardshell weapons. Simultaneously, a squad of heavy BioDerm warriors burst into each chamber and opened fire. The results were hideous--the Queens’ soft bodies were not able to withstand such attack, and they were all blown into gory pieces. When this happened, the warriors and workers of each hive went berserk--with no unifying mind to control them, they were unhinged, bent only on killing. Most of the BioDerm squads were torn to pieces. Most of them. Only one view was different, and he had not noticed it with all the commotion. Now he concentrated on it fully, and as he did so, it enlarged, seeming to come closer and to block out the other fourteen views. He was somehow not surprised when he saw that the one surviving Queen was Tath. [She was forewarned,] Dath said from beside him. [And she had new warriors to help her. She, at least, heeded my words.] The ‘new warriors’ turned out to be exact replicas of the metallic warrior he’d fought before falling unconscious. He saw a score of them dash up the entrance tunnel to Tath’s chamber, weapons at the ready, unmindful of the horrific sounds of fighting coming down the shaft. Another score stayed in the chamber, surrounding Tath. She was speaking to them now, and he could hear her clearly. [My warriors, the time has come for the final contingency. Help me.] She did not sound nearly as insane as he remembered her to be, her voice now soft and refined instead of the hateful shriek that had echoed behind him when he was driven from his homeworld. Considering what Dath had told him, he was beginning to wonder if she had been acting the part. Tath bent her thorax down as far as she could, until she was in easy reach of a pair of metal warriors in front of her. They reached up and clasped her around the joint between her thorax and her huge abdomen, then began to pull. There was a wet tearing sound of soft flesh being torn from its moorings, and Tath screamed shrilly. In a moment, it was over, and she was set gently on the ground, her legs barely able to support her after their long disuse. He expected to see her lifeblood pumping furiously onto the floor of the chamber, and was surprised that it was not. The break, though painful, must have somehow been a clean one. Once she was down, the remaining warriors began to claw into her now-separated abdomen, tearing into the flesh. Several of them ripped a gaping hole in the side and stepped bodily into the wound, only to emerge with a large spheroid almost a meter in diameter. She turned to them as four of them lifted it between them. [Flee! Carry it deep into the hive and far away from your green brothers.] The quartet of metal warriors bobbed their antennae as one and departed, dashing through a back entrance. Tath turned to the rest of them. [Escort them. I will hold here.]  ‘Hold here’? What can she do? Kath’ik wondered as the rest of the warriors departed, following their brothers. He did not have to wait long to find out. There was a huge explosion not far down the front entrance tunnel, and he saw broken warriors thrown bodily into the room. Coppery green smoke wafted into the chamber, rolling along the walls and ceiling. Tath began to weave a pattern in the air with her antennae, and for a moment, Kath’ik thought he saw the air shimmer in front of her. Her eyes, once dim, flashed to a brightness that bathed the entire chamber in golden light. Her legs, which had been trembling with the effort of supporting her weight, stilled and became strong. At that moment an even dozen ‘Derms tromped into the room, a mix of heavy and medium reavers. There were cries of “There it is!” and “Open fire, brothers!”, and all of them leveled their weapons at Tath and let loose. He expected her to be killed instantly as the other Queens had been, and was surprised once again when every projectile exploded harmlessly a few meters in front of her. [  Defilers!! Feel my wrath!] Tath’s voice was a shriek that drowned out the sounds of weapons-fire. She pushed forward with her hands and three of the Slonn were picked up and hurled into the tunnel wall behind them. They did not bounce off and flop to the ground, but were driven several feet deep into the stone, their bodies crushed by the force of the blow. An instant later, Dath made a sweeping motion with her right hand, and four more of the ‘Derms were neatly cut in half at the waist by some invisible blade at her command. The remaining BioDerms kept firing at her, trying to overpower whatever shield she had erected in front of herself. She was concentrating on another attack, and did not see the two-toed footprints in the dusty floor working their way around her and behind. Too late, she caught the shimmer of a cloaking field out of the corner of her eye, just as the snarling beam of a shocklance pierced her from behind and shattered her thorax. Somehow, she screamed once more, and with a final effort, crushed her killer against the wall. Then it was over, and she lay broken on the floor, limbs twitching in death. Dath waved her antennae, and the vision froze. He was thankful for it. He did not want to see the Slonn revel in their victory. [It is horrible, I know,] Dath told him. [Only rarely has a queen had to use her force of will for personal defense.] [But what about that... sphere? The ones the metal warriors took from her?] Dath sighed. [They were supposed to take it deep into the furthest reaches of the hive and seal themselves away with it. It is a queen’s egg of the kind we use for colonizing new worlds. In time, it would hatch, and our hive would once again be reborn.] [‘Supposed to’?] he asked, not liking where this was leading. [They were caught. When Tath died, all of her children went berserk, and the warriors tasked with the egg were cut off from their escape route. The BioDerms killed them and took it from them.] [ Where!?] [I don’t know, Kath’ik. The queen in that egg, still unborn, is not connected to the Hive-Mind, and she cannot be tracked.] Dath put a hand on his shoulder. [If she cannot be found and retrieved....] She did not have to finish the sentence. The BioDerms might destroy the egg. Even worse, they might try and study it, perhaps learn how to subvert the Queen within to their own ends. Knowing the Slonn’s abilities in genetic manipulation, he was almost certain the latter was their objective. If they could bend the unborn Queen to their will, they would have access to an almost limitless supply of warriors, warriors they could use to overwhelm any hardshell army that stood in their way. Warriors they could use to roll over the Tribes of Man like some unstoppable wheel of chaos. And if they could defeat the Tribes of Man, the Slonn could then turn their full attention to the Empire, freshly backed by a new supply of captured planets of the Wilderzone. Either way, it would mean the end of his kind. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."Edited by: <A HREF=http://pub3.ezboard.com/uambushbug.show ... =EN>Ambush Bug</A>  <IMG SRC="http://www.xmenclan.org/images/x.gif" BORDER=0> at: 5/15/02 9:02:04 am

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Mon Jun 10, 2002 8:22 pm

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He looked up from his introspection and met Dath’s gaze. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You see what it was all for now, yes?] she asked gently. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Yes.] He didn’t know if he could ever reconcile the necessity of it with the pain he’d been forced to go through, however. He saw many nightmares waiting for him in the not-so-distant future. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Good. There are things you must know, however, before you begin this quest.] Dath gestured for him to come into antennae contact with her. He stepped forward and did so. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp When she spoke next, it was in an almost conspiratorial whisper. [I must speak quietly, Kath’ik, for we are not alone here. If you have not figured it out yet, then it is time to tell you. Every queen that existed lives on within the Hive-Mind even after death. That is why I am here, talking to you.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [And the significance of this?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [They have been unable to hear what we have discussed so far, for they are all still delirious from the pain of death and the shock of the relocation to your body. Only the fact that I am your mother lets us talk now, for the bond between you and I is a strong one. But soon enough, they will recover, and with their recovery will come their strength of will. They will not be pleased to find out where they are, and who contains their essence. They do not know of my plan, Kath’ik, nor of the necessity of your exile. You are still a criminal to them.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  There was a thought to set his nerves on edge. [But don’t they understand what has happened now? Doesn’t the Hive-Mind make them all a collective consciousness?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [No, they do not. Yes, they are a collective... but a badly shaken one, Kath’ik. It will take them time to come together, to fully grasp the situation. Until then, they will be chaotic, and once it is discovered that you are their host, I imagine there will be something akin to a general revolt.] Dath sighed. [I will do what I can to calm them and quell their fears, as well as update them as to the situation... but until I can accomplish that, you should expect for any number of queens to assault you out of rage.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [They won’t be helping things any,] he noted dryly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I know that. I will try and calm them. But you must let  me do it, Kath’ik. If one of the queens tries to contact you, you must at all costs  not speak to her. Though you are an independent intelligence now, you are still a warrior and they are still queens. They may try and damage your mind... or take it over.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Why would they try and control me?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You are a warrior, Kath’ik, and they will view you as inferior and incapable of carrying out the rescue of the egg. That is all the excuse they will need.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sobered, he said, [Then you must do everything you can.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I will.] She broke contact with him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You have other things to tell me, do you not?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath nodded. [Yes. When I said that we did not have for the luxury of idle talk, I was not exaggerating. You must retrieve the egg before it hatches.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Why? And how long do I have?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You have half a solar cycle--six of your ‘months’. And as for the reason, it is a simple one... only at the moment of hatching can the Hive-Mind fully imprint on the new queen. If it is not done then... well... she will not be mindless, but she will not have  us to guide her, and our race’s memory will die with you.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Some voice at the back of his head--his own, he discovered after a fearful instant--gently whispered that perhaps letting his race’s memory die was not such an entirely bad thing. These were the same Queens that had, after all, utterly annihilated one of their own for something no worse than trying to make her warriors intelligent. They did it out of fear for their own power base, never even bothering to try and reason with her, or even learn from her. Would a fresh start be so wrong? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Put it away, he told himself.  Just put it away. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Are you all right, Kath’ik? You look... troubled.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He nodded his head. [Yes, I’m fine. It’s just that the thought of losing our memory.... it is a sobering one.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath nodded. [There is one more thing. There are some Steels that are still alive.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Steels? What are those?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [They are warriors which I designed and that Tath birthed some years after your departure. They are what you might call a ‘last-ditch’ effort on our parts. You see, they are intelligent, like you.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [But didn’t that--] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Make the other Queens angry?] Dath finished for him. [Not at all... for they never knew of the Steels. My daughter and I worked very hard to conceal them, always keeping them out of mind-reach of the other Queens. We made them for just such an occasion as has befallen us. They require no Queen to function, just like you. But unlike you, they do not possess emotions. They are pure logic, and even purer warriors than their green brothers. They were the ones to which Tath entrusted her unborn egg.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [The metal warriors?] he asked, remembering the group of them that had carted the huge black sphere deeper into the hive. Dath nodded. Puzzled, he asked, [Then what was I doing fighting one?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath’s antennae went straight with shock. [You found Forty-Two?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Forty-Two?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Tath numbered them. It’s beside the point, though.... you found him?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I don’t know. All I know is that it certainly looks like those that Tath commanded.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [But nevertheless, you  found him.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Apparently so,] he replied slowly, curious that Dath was so enthusiastic about this one warrior. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Good. When you come back to yourself, I want you to kill him.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He did a double-take. [What?  Why?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [He is a traitor. When the BioDerms raided our homeworld to capture warriors, he went with them willingly.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [But what about the green brothers? Are they not traitors as well, by that logic?] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath shook her head. [No, the green brothers were manipulated, fooled into thinking they were receiving orders from Tath. The Steels, however, are able to ignore pheromonic orders... just like you.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  That was something he hadn’t been aware of about himself. Then again, he hadn’t hardly been around his own Queen long enough to experiment before being exiled. Even so, what Dath told him provided him with some interesting pieces of information. One, the Steels were not only independent, they were probably as intelligent as he was. He reviewed his memories of the fight between himself and this ‘Forty-Two’, and what he saw quickly reinforced the idea. Two, the BioDerms evidently had some way of replicating the command pheromones of a Queen. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Vatsats, he thought, remembering the scant information he had on these Slonn spies. They had some kind of pheromonic projectors in their bodies... these they would use to influence human emotion. It would not be much of a stretch for the BioDerms to make these projectors work with his race’s pheromones. Given what he’d seen so far, it was no stretch at all. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He suddenly wondered  why Forty-Two had gone along with the BioDerms. It also occurred to him to wonder why Forty-Two had attacked him at Mortok’s behest.  Was the Steel warrior a traitor, as Dath suspected? Or was there some other reason? Kath’ik decided that at the very least, he would hear the Steel’s side of things before killing him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp If it wasn’t dead already. He realized he might have shattered Forty-Two’s head against his helm with those two final blows. He’d heard  something break, anyway. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I may have killed him already. The fight between us was extremely brutal.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Either way, you have work to do, Kath’ik. You will not see me like this again, my son. Bringing you this far into the Hive-Mind is dangerous, for the other queens are beginning to rouse. Stay here much longer and they will try and hold you here.] Dath pointed to his legs. [You are already returning of your own volition.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He looked down and saw that his body was rapidly changing into green streamers that were forming a nebulous cloud around him. It was like watching Dath’s entrance, only in reverse. There was no pain, but he felt that curious sense of pieces of himself disappearing. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I will do what I can, Dath,] he said as the cloud of streamers advanced to his waist. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [I know you will, Kath’ik. I will talk to you as soon as I am able.] As she spoke, the void got darker, until all he could see was the faint golden nimbus of her eyes. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Gods below, he thought as he began to rise towards consciousness.  How will I accomplish this task? And what of that lone Steel warrior? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Skiiirrrrtch. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red’s knife slowly scraped its way along one of the flat planes of his hardshell, peeling a thin strip of purple insect blood away in the process. The blood was that of the warrior he’d killed in the plaza near the center of town, the warrior he’d shattered like a vase with his shocklance. The blood had dried and hardened within a few moments of hitting the air, and it coated almost the entire front side of his armor. It had worked its way into many of the armor’s crevices, but Sirus had already cleaned those out some hours ago. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Now he was removing the large splashes on his legs one millimeter-wide strip at a time. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Skiiirrrr-tch. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He saw Mortok’s ears twitch a little bit at that last scraping sound, and pushed the edge of the blade against his armor a little harder.  SkiiiRRRR-tch. Mortok winced. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red would have to spend a lot of time re-sharpening his blade after that one... but it was worth it to watch Mortok squirm a little. Yes, it was  well worth it. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Hear something you don’t like, Slonn?” he asked quietly as the strip of insect blood he was peeling broke, fell, and hit the cargo bay floor with a soft  thunk. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok glared at him, but said nothing. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp For this, Sirus was very thankful. For the last six hours, he, Mortok, and RJ had occupied the cargo bay as if it were a jail cell without bars. Mortok lay in the center of the floor, wrapped so thoroughly in cables that he looked like a caterpillar in a hardshell. RJ sat on a crate by the opposite wall from Red, his legs dangling over the edge. Sirus himself was leaning against the wall, legs in front of him and a small pile of dried blood flakes by his right knee. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Up until an hour ago, Mortok had been almost intolerable. Red was sure he’d never seen  anyone so fanatical, not even one of the Harbingers when they got started. Heedless of his broken jaw, Mortok harangued the two men about his plans, the BioDerm Hordes (thereafter known as the Strong), how the Strong would still be able to roll over the Slavers despite today’s setback, and the general futility of resistance. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Hours of this, hours of this monologue given in exquisite detail. Mortok even began to throw in embellished descriptions of how the insect warriors under his command had quickly killed the populace of Cible, how they’d never had a chance... how they’d screamed  so loudly.... &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That was when RJ kicked him in the guts. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus remembered that Mortok had turned his head and grinned at him, as if to say  You see? It’s working, even as RJ gritted his teeth in rage while he drew back to kick the Slonn once more. Red cut him short: “We have to keep him alive, RJ, so try not to send his guts through his back, please.” RJ glared frostily at Mortok and went back to his seat, rubbing his legs absently as he did so. The bruises from his point-blank disk explosion still hurt. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus wanted to do the same as RJ, truth be told. Mortok’s descriptions of the death of Cible were gut-wrenching. The sheer joy with which he narrated these events was far worse. It made Red ill, made him sick with anger at the deaths of so many people, but he held his hands and his tongue. He did it partly because Mortok was now a  bona fide prisoner of war, and keeping him alive for later extraction of information was a high priority. The other reason was that Sirus had a certain amount of pride concerning his military conduct--not so much that he was like a stiff-necked B-E during a parley, but enough for him to know that yes, he truly  had earned the officer’s stripes on his right shoulder. He certainly couldn’t blame RJ for lashing out, though. Harabec knew he wanted to himself. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Hence the knife. He wouldn’t let himself harm Mortok physically, but that didn’t stop him from waging a little psychological warfare. The light but jarring sound of the knife scraping across his armor was just perfect for that. It filled the silence ever so well ever since Mortok’s voice had given out. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Well, he wasn’t entirely sure Mortok’s voice was gone, actually. He was of the opinion that Mortok was simply hanging back, staying quiet until he saw some opportunity.  What opportunity he may have trussed up like that, I’ll never know, Red told himself. He wasn’t terribly worried, either. Even if Mortok somehow broke free of the cargo cables, he was now the owner of one Grade-A glass jaw. One good shot there and he’d be out. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He stopped scraping with the knife and wondered just how in the hell he was going to put all of this into a report to Spectre when he got back. “Vacation started fine. Encountered enemy dropship, followed to local port. Ran like hell from insect warriors allied with the BioDerms. Due to massive stroke of luck, facilitated capture of BioDerm attack leader. Spent several days acoustically torturing said BioDerm with a dull knife.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Well, it hadn’t been several days...  yet. Only six hours. It felt like forever, especially sitting here and waiting for Bug to wake up. Hopefully Bug would wake up before the thirty-plus other insects outside did. Hopefully Bug would wake up, period. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “I’ve got movement outside,” RJ said quietly, and got to his feet, blaster carbine at the ready. Red sheathed his knife and took his plascannon off safety. He looked over at Mortok. The big reaver’s face was expressionless, giving away nothing. Sirus took that as an admonition to be even more careful. There was no telling if Mortok had any kind of reinforcements. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ was looking at his PDA. “Damn, it’s gone now.” He turned to Red. “Want me to go up front and see what I can see?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yeah. Keep in contact while you’re at it.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Will do,” RJ said, nodding. He turned and made his way up to the front of the  Maelstrom, leaving Sirus alone with Mortok. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp No sooner had RJ left the bay than Mortok turned to him and spoke for the first time in over an hour. “Well?” he said gruffly. “What are you waiting for?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know... what  am I waiting for?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Taken aback, Mortok was slow in answering. “You have your chance to kill me, human. Will you not take it?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Hmmph.” Sirus brought the plascannon up and gave it a quick once-over, making a point to keep the barrel pointed away from Mortok. “If you think I’m gonna give you the pleasure of dying for glory, honor, and your damned Bloodsoul, you’re denser than those misshapen things sprouting from your head you call horns.” He doubled checked the ammo counter--40 rounds--and brought the weapon back to ready. “Besides, when we get you back home, being dead is the last thing you’ll have to worry about.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok snorted derisively. “You think I fear torture?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “No, not really, but I imagine hard labor isn’t up your alley, either.” Sirus grinned at Mortok and tipped him a wink. “Hey, you’re one of the Strong, right? There’s a battalion out on the plains that needs something to replace their cargo-loader synthrall.” With some enjoyment, Sirus watched Mortok’s nostrils flare in anger at the prospect of being made a slave. He knew it was quite dangerous to push this particular button with a BioDerm, but he just couldn’t resist, not after all that time listening to Mortok go on and on about his superiority. He was about to push a little further when RJ broke in over the local circuit. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  “Uhh, Red? We got a big problem.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What’s that?”  &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “They’re gone.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Pardon?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  “Bug and the metal warrior... they’re both gone. I think that was the movement I picked up.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What about those other warriors?” he asked, trying not to imagine the metal warrior dragging Bug off and snacking on him somewhere nearby. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  “Still out, haven’t moved. Not a jot.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “That’s good news at least.” He took a deep breath of relief. Suddenly, he heard a quiet beeping coming through the radio. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  “Damn! Movement again! Right by the cargo bay doors!” The sound of RJ readying his carbine was clearly audible through the connection. The sound of the door control panel beeping was like a knife though his brain. Sirus’ gaze locked on the panel and his heart began to thud as he watched the ‘unlock’ code-sequence flash across the panel’s display. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “RJ, that’s not you unlocking the bay doors, is it?” Red asked through his mike. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  “Uh.... no.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Wonderful.” Red carefully maneuvered himself so that Mortok was between him and the doors. That way, depending on who was opening the door, he could quickly bring his plascannon to bear on whomever needed shooting first. This  could be some kind of trick of Mortok’s. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The door began to noisily trundle up its track, the gap at the bottom widening every moment. Sirus crouched down to get a better angle, still keeping his weapon trained on the door. He looked at the gap, now a few inches wide, and saw four insect feet standing on the ramp. So it wasn’t a BioDerm. He raised the cannon further now that he wouldn’t have to use Mortok as a hostage, instead aiming it at what would be dead-center of the insect’s chest when the door fully opened. The gap widened further, and now he could see black metal encasing the insect’s lower legs. It was Bug standing out there. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp For a bare moment, he considered lowering his weapon. Only for a moment. The memories of Bug trying to kill him before were too strong, and he kept the cannon poised. It was too much of a risk not to. He waited until the door was chest high on Bug and then shouted out. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Freeze, merc! What’s this month’s authentication code?” He saw the legs move a little in surprise, then shuffle around a bit as Bug’s hands (free of weapons, he noted) stayed at his side. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Smart move,” his friend replied as the door cleared his head. “Whisky Tango Foxtrot, Sirus. And it’s going to expire in about two days, if I recall.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red lowered his weapon, confident now that Bug was in control of himself. “It  is you,” Red said quietly, looking his friend over. “You had me worried, Bug.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “For which I’m sorry--“ Bug began, then cut himself off as he spied Mortok lying on the floor. “ You,” he said quietly. The menace in his voice was almost tangible. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Wisely, Mortok remained silent. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “He’s not going anywhere, Bug,” Sirus said. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ came in from the front of the ship. He brightened immediately on spying Bug. “You’re all right!” he cried. Bug turned to look at him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “I’m fine, RJ. Really. But there are some things I have to do--“ Here he inclined his head towards Mortok slightly. “--and not a lot of time in which to do them.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “How do you mean?” asked Sirus. Bug didn’t usually dance around the subject like this. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “I can’t explain right now, Red... I don’t have all the answers yet. You must trust me on this.” Bug turned and made a quiet chattering noise with his mandibles. “At the very least--“ &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Damn, it’s the metal one!” RJ cried as he raised his carbine to point right at the chrome-hued insect making its way up the cargo ramp. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “ Hold your fire!” Bug cried as he stepped in front of the metal one. “He’s on our side.” The puzzled looks he got in response urged him to continue. He stepped to the side and placed a hand on the warrior next to him. “This is Forty-Two, a brother from my homeworld.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus turned to RJ and mouthed  Forty-Two? to his friend. RJ shrugged back at him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “It’s too much to go into right now. I need you two to help him--“ Bug gestured to the Steel at his side. “--get the other thirty-odd warriors into line once they wake up. They’re going to be  very confused, waking up on a completely different world.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Wait, you want us to  help this guy?” Sirus said with disbelief. He was quite certain that Mortok, though silent, was taking some amusement from all of this. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Ummm, didn’t he try to kill you a few hours ago?” RJ added. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yes, but only to keep up his ruse and to fool Mortok.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red blinked a couple of times when he heard that. Now he was  really confused. “I am  so lost, Bug... what’s going on?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Ambush sighed loudly. He stepped forward and placed both hands on Red’s shoulders. “Sirus, I would never lead you blindly into danger, my friend. Trust me. I don’t have the information I need to explain this to you properly. I intend to get it very soon.” Again he glanced sideways at Mortok. “I have no time, and I need you to help this warrior and the others.” In a sudden move, Bug brushed both of his antennae against the forehead of Red’s helm. Sirus didn’t have time to flinch. “There. That will keep you safe enough.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What is it?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “My scent. The warriors will recognize it.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What about RJ?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug turned to face the infiltrator. “Stay in the  Maelstrom, RJ. We may have to leave very quickly. Sirus can handle the outside work.” RJ gave him a hesitant thumbs-up in return. “Forty-Two will explain the rest to you both.” Without waiting for a response, Bug let go of Red’s shoulders, turned, and then grabbed Mortok by one of the restraining cables would around him. With a smooth effort, he picked him up off the floor and held him face-to-face. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You and I have much to discuss, BioDerm.” The coldness was back in his voice. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Wait! Where are you taking him, Bug?” Sirus asked, stepping toward his friend. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Outside, and some distance away. I need some privacy to do this properly.” Bug turned and started down the ramp. He paused halfway down and turned back to Sirus, who was still standing at the top of the ramp, a confused and worried look on his face. “If you hear screams, Red.... they won’t be mine.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus couldn’t think of anything to say in response to that. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Fri Jun 21, 2002 2:31 pm

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  The BioDerm research planet: &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It sat in the center of the laboratory, smooth and silent in the darkness. It rested on a wide stand, supported by a web of rings pressed against the gentle curve of its exterior. Dim halos marked its surface, made by glowing sensor equipment mounted in the rings. The effect was quite eerie, for the light from the rings did not propagate very far across its black surface, leaving a series of sharply defined circles that seemed to float unaided in the air. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp For some reason, Render-of-Hearts found the effect entrancing, even though she’d seen such things many times in her tenure. She was standing against one of the lab walls, her arms crossed over her chest. She was entirely within the shadows cast by the sphere and its attending sensors, the only light source in the entire room. She’d found recently that the shadows appealed to her. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She had come to the lab in order to see this sphere, the egg torn forcibly from the grasp of the insects by her warriors. It had been a gamble, a large one she realized now, but it had paid off. As she’d suspected, at least one of the fifteen insect hives was in the process of birthing a new queen. She hadn’t expected for only  one hive to be in such a transition state, though. She wondered what that said about the life-cycle of the insects. As she was not a xenobiologist, she pushed the question aside, leaving it for her underlings to puzzle out. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was a pity she’d only gotten one egg. She wanted two, or perhaps three, just in case things went wrong. Little chance of that now--all the rest of the insect queens were dead. Bad luck that she couldn’t use them to obtain more of these eggs, but the risk of any living queen throwing her entire population against the Horde was too much to take. Mortok had been right about that, at least. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She shook her head. The lack of other eggs was one thing, but there was something else that troubled her. Fourteen out of the fifteen groups had reported major losses after killing their assigned queens, attributed to the insects going berserk. The fifteenth group, the one that had actually gotten the egg and brought it back, they had lost almost a third of their number just in the process of battling with the insect queen. The report was very clear in stating that they hadn’t lost those reavers to the queen’s guards, but to the queen  herself. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “She waved her arms and Keltek, Ragar, and J’Tengh were picked up and crushed against the chamber walls,” the report said. It also described some kind of powerful shield the queen had erected in front of herself, as well as her ability to cut warriors in half at range. Only the quick thinking of an infiltrator resulted in the queen’s death, but the reaver paid the price for it. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What kind of power was that? Was it some kind of psychokinetic ability, and if so, would the unborn queen in the egg possess it as well? What kind of obstacles would  that provide for her lab technicians? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Even better: Had the queen also been forewarned of the attack somehow? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp There it was. That was the question she didn’t know the answer to. Everything from the report, including the visual records that accompanied it, indicated that the squad hadn’t been detected until they fired their first shot, as was according to plan. But when they got to the queen’s chambers, she was ready for them, and unlike the others, perfectly capable of defending herself. Worse, she’d already had the egg carted off by those damnable metal insects of hers. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Ah yes, the metal ones. Mortok had captured one of them when he raided that planet, but up until the attack later on, there had been no sign of any other metal warriors. Stranger still, they seemed to exist only in the one hive, the hive on the desert planet near Hel’s Gate. But their ferocity in combat more than made up for their lack of numbers. A quartet of metal ones guarded by sixteen more had carted the egg deep into the sandy hive, and it took the squad a good three hours to track them down and kill them all without damaging the egg. That process cost an even dozen reavers. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp But the cost was worth it, for the egg was here now. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do with it just yet. That was why it was being scanned. So far, there wasn’t a whole lot of information coming out of the scanning array, but she hoped it would change, hoped the array would be able to peer through the thick shell surrounding the embryo and tell her its secrets. Time. It would take time. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp She leaned forward and put her weight fully on her feet once more. As entrancing as the scanning array was while it worked, she had other things to do. One of them being waiting for Mortok to contact her and beg forgiveness at his pathetic attempt on her position. She smiled at the thought. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Mon Jul 22, 2002 2:25 pm

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  If he gets out of my sight, I won’t have to report him to Spec. Despite everything going on around him, it was the only thought going through Red’s mind. And it was the truth. He knew what Bug was going to do, and knew just as well that it went against the DTM code of conduct every merc swore to uphold. On top of that, he knew that Bug was perfectly aware of that fact and was breaking the rules anyway. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  If he gets out of my sight, I won’t have to report his blatant torture of a prisoner of war. Though Bug was sometimes a loose cannon when he wasn’t leading a squad, Red hadn’t ever known him to break any part of the DTM code... at least not willingly. In fact, Red could recall a few times when Bug had faced down some of his fellow mercs during a few emotionally-charged battles. For him to make such a quick turnaround on a matter like this was both unusual and a little frightening. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Yes, that was it. Frightening. That was precisely the word he’d been looking for, even though he hadn’t been looking for it. He hadn’t been frightened of Bug in... Harabec! How long  had it been? Since Bug had told him about the failed hit on Spectre? Yes, that was it, down in that dark armory, almost two years ago. Since then, their friendship had overpowered any fear that might have bubbled up. But this, this was different. Bug had lost some of the warmth he’d acquired over the last year, lost it in a few hours, and now he was back to his old self, that ice-cold killer that sized up everyone as a potential target as a matter of principle. And Bug  had done that, had he not? The gesture was extremely subtle, even for Bug, but it was there--that almost infinitesimal momentary backward curving of his antennae, as if he meant to fold them back for combat and stopped himself--he’d done that just as soon as he came into the cargo bay. How long had it taken to get him to stop that when around his friends? Months. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What the  hell had happened to him? What the hell  was happening to him? And how was Mortok wrapped up in this? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Uh, Red?” The voice was RJ’s. Sirus turned to look at his companion. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Forty-Two. What are we going to do with him?” RJ pointed over Red’s shoulder. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red blinked hard and turned around to face the chrome-hued insect Bug had brought up to the  Maelstrom.  And what’s the deal with  this guy? Sirus wondered to himself.  First Bug knocks the stuffing out of him and now they’re the best of pals? Strange indeed.  And how the hell am I supposed to communicate with him? It’s not like they teach English on Bug’s planet. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Forty-Two turned to face Red and lowered his head until he was at Sirus’ eye level. His broken mandible was no longer dripping blood, for it had long ago scabbed over with the contact of air. The dark purple stain against the chrome was kind of disconcerting, like flesh mixed with steel. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Greetings,” Forty-Two said. His voice was clear and perfectly understandable, and spoke without the hint of an accent... or any accent at all, for that matter. His pronunciation was letter-perfect. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus blinked hard again, too taken aback to respond immediately. Then he gathered himself together. “Greetings,” he said in return. “I see that you can speak my language.” Obvious, but it was the only thing he could come up with. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative. Kath’ik taught it to me.” Again, there was no intonation at all. Forty-Two sounded like Bug back when he hadn’t figured out how to add the proper stresses to his voice. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Who is Kath’ik?” Sirus asked, unable to pronounce the odd  click in the middle of the name properly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Forty-Two cocked its head at him. “You do not know him? Is he not your battle-brother?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Suddenly it came to him. Bug. “That’s his real name, isn’t it? The one he was forsworn from using ever again, yes?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “And the one that was wiped from your race’s memory?” Red recalled Bug’s telling of his exile, specifically that none of his brothers would ever know of him again. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Wiped? Negative. Kath’ik the Exile is well-known among my kind.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “But... but....” Sirus trailed off, then looked to RJ for a little support. RJ shrugged at him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Hey, you’re the guy that handles the seven-foot-tall insect warriors, Red. I just fly the  Maelstrom.” RJ looked at the door to the freighter’s main hall. “In fact, I seem to recall that Bug wanted me to get this crate ready for high-speed takeoff...” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Have at it then.” Red sounded more confident than he felt. What Forty-Two had just told him about Bug shook the foundation of what he knew about his friend to its core. He remembered what Bug had told him--“They can  hear me, Red!”--some time ago, how he was never to even think of his true name, lest it be heard and provoke a massive invasion from his homeworld. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp And here was Forty-Two, openly speaking it. Not just openly speaking it, but telling it to a  human. By what Red knew, the queen that Bug feared so much should have had half her forces landed already. But there was nothing save for the small group of warriors, and even those appeared to be some kind of prisoners taken against their will. This was not adding up at all, and it made Red nervous. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp So he changed the subject. The inconsistencies he would shove to the back of his mind, where they would sort and filter themselves subconsciously while he worked on something else. It was a skill that had taken him half a decade to perfect, but one that had served him well ever since. It was the reason he was such a tinker, how he was able to keep all the knowledge of different fields straight in his head. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Let’s get outside,” Red told the warrior. “We have some work to do, if what Bug tells me is correct.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “It is.” Forty-Two did not say anything further as he made his way down the ramp at Red’s side. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “So, you’re numbered, yes?” Sirus asked, hoping to fill the silence. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Why?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “I do not have emotions, as does the Exile. Nor do any of my brothers. So it was decided that we would be numbered. We are logic.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Uh- huh.”  He sounds like Bug without any of his wit and charm, Red joked to himself. “Well, let me tell you what, Forty-Two. You’re getting a name--a warnom to be exact.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “War-nom?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “A name a warrior is known by when on the battlefield. Ambush... Kath’ik... has already told you mine, yes?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative. You are known as RedSirus.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Most people just call me Red or Sirus. Hell, we don’t even use our given names very much in the Dragon Talon Mercs... most of us are ‘warnom-only’ types. But that’s a little beside the point. Your number is a bit of a mouthful for humans like me, and it isn’t terribly inspiring on the battlefield, either. Thus, you need a warnom, something shorter and more battle-worthy.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Bob.” Forty-Two’s answer was instant. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Pardon?” Sirus did a double-take. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Bob.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Bob?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Bob.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Bob it is, then.” Only with great effort did Sirus keep himself from breaking out into cackling laughter. He could feel the ropes of tension encircling him loosen. The whole situation suddenly seemed to weigh on him less, and for the first time since he and Bug had seen the B-E dropship scream through the sky, the pall of death and destruction that lay around Cibile seemed to lift from his shoulders. Even the air seemed to smell better, despite the rank odor of dismembered BioDerm wafting out from under the  Maelstrom. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Well, now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s see what we can do, Bob.” Sirus gestured to the pile of fallen (unconscious?) warriors nearby. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Nothing for them now,” was Bob’s immediate reply. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “How do you mean?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “They are not dead, if that is what you are wondering,” Bob told him, turning his head to look at Sirus.  How the hell did he pick that behavior up so quickly? Red wondered to himself.  Did Bug teach him that? He filed it away into the same drawer he’d put his other questions. He’d find out from Bug soon enough, or perhaps Bob himself would tell. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Then what?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “They are unconscious. When they recognized Kath’ik for who he was and saw that his authority was real and the authority of the  vatsats was not real, they killed the  vatsats.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “But why would that knock them out cold like that?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “They are not capable of dealing with the shock of such a transition. Their minds are not developed.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Oh.” Not that he understood what Bob meant in the least, but ‘oh’ was the best thing Red could come up with. Sirus looked away from the scattered pile of quietly breathing insects and surveyed the damage to the city itself. It was still dark out--his PDA told him it was around three in the morning, local time--but there were two moons in the sky to bolster the existing starlight. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What he could see told the tale well enough. The inner city was hidden from him by the great walls surrounding it, but he had already seen the death and carnage inside. Aside from the pile of rubble at the Port Authority entrance, the city looked unscathed. A marvelous illusion, that. The parts of Cibile outside the walls hadn’t fared so well. Some buildings were still burning, throwing up large columns of smoke into the night sky and blocking out portions of the stars. The rest were smoldering piles. No living thing walked among them, a fact that he found more than a little surprising. Had the insect warriors killed those in the outlying city before moving in? Or had the dropship pilot simply raked the area with enough blaster bolts to do the job? Red suspected the latter, for when he looked at the huge blaster cannons hanging from the dropship’s frame, he saw that one of the barrels was not completely true. It was visibly curved downward, bent due to massive heat-buildup and gravity. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  What the hell did he  do, just hold down the trigger? Sirus wondered. He shuddered at the mental images the thought brought forward in his mind. Better, it seemed, to imagine the pilot hitting a few places and the warriors killing people as they came out. It at least seemed to be the less despicable of the two acts. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Surprisingly, the dropship was still in one piece. It was dented in places, yes, but there were no fresh holes from the local turrets. In fact, now that he had time to look at the dropship carefully, there was more to it than he had first thought. The hull, though dented and worn from many micrometeorite impacts during the ship’s service, was  smoothly worn. Aside from a few tiny craters that looked to be less than a few days old, the rest of the hull had an odd fluidity to it, as if someone had tried to buff out most of the dents and scratches with a cloth. In fact, one side of the hull was noticeably smoother than the other, and the pattern of wear suggested to him a ship that had sat with one side to the wind for a long, long time. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That was what convinced him to go look inside. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Come with me, Bob,” Sirus told the warrior as he turned and started towards the dropship. He heard the distinct tapping of Bob’s feet as he pivoted and turned to follow. “We’re going to have a look inside that dropship.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative,” was the crisp reply. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Have you been able to search his mind yet? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  No, Kik. Dath changed him greatly, and he is unlike any warrior. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Idiot! Of course he is unlike any of our warriors--he is self-aware! Did I not tell you that earlier? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Y-yes, but... &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp You will not fail me. Tap into his mind. I want to be able to see what he sees, hear what he hears, and smell what he smells, and I want to be able to do so before he follows through with Dath’s plan. We cannot risk what few warriors we have left so brazenly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It is difficult, Kik. If he suspects... &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He already suspects us. A warrior does not reach his age without being wily. Give him no reason to think we are interfering in any way. But get into his mind. I want in there. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp And what about Dath? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Later. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Oh,  God.” Red tried to pinch his nostrils shut and failed, his armored hand bumping into his helmet’s faceplate. The stench from within the B-E dropship was almost a physical thing, reaching out from the open ramp, wafting through his armor’s air-filters, then ramming its grubby fingers right up his nose. He felt his stomach doing lazy flips and tried to keep his knees from wobbling. BioDerms smelled bad, but not  this bad... at least as far as he knew. “What  is that  stench ?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bob, standing next to him on the dropship’s assault ramp, seemed to be entirely unaffected. “That is the smell of the pheromones they used to control my brothers. It is... distasteful.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Distasteful... right.” Sirus twiddled with his hardshell’s filtering controls, trying to block out the worst of it. He wasn’t having much success. He turned to Bob. “Is it always this pungent?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “To humans, yes. To me it is upsetting. The scent of my mother is much sweeter.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus didn’t want to know what Bob thought of as ‘sweet’--it was probably just as nose-wrinkling as this smell. “This is upsetting to you? So how did you keep from going bonkers while you were cooped up in here with Mortok and his pals?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bob turned to look at him now. “It was not easy. Though I cannot be commanded in the same way as my brothers, the scents are faintly compelling. I forced myself to ignore it.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Like voices in the back of your head...” Sirus mused out loud as he peered into the dropship’s bay. The ship was dark, lifeless. “Anyone left inside this thing?” he asked Bob as he fiddled with his low-light optiks. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Negative. All of the  vatsats are dead, as is the pilot. Only Mortok is still alive.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  For how long? Sirus wondered to himself. “All right. Let’s go in.” He made his way up the ramp and into the ‘launch bay’, where the warriors assembled prior to leaping out of the ship. The bay was like the rest of the ship, quiet and dark. Though his optiks, Sirus could make out various shapes arrayed along the sides of the bay. These were a series of wide tubes, each one sporting a tag on the front that had a name on it. Sirus went to these and ran his hand over a few of the tags: “Pvt. Richardson, ‘Franken-Jug’” “Maj. Weathers, A., ‘Tornado’” ( Weathers? Sirus thought to himself.  Poor bastard. I’d hate to have  that last name...) “Capt. Shaw, Neblack, ‘Smash’”. There were about thirty of these tubes. What they were was pretty obvious; shockgel-filled tubes used to keep the warriors from flying around the bay during re-entry and landing. The tubes were in good shape, but as Red examined them closely, he realized that they were also hopelessly out of date. The components at the base of each tube were turn-of-the-century technology at best. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp By this time, his gut was telling him quite urgently that Things Were Most Definitely Not Right. He was quite inclined to agree. “Bob?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yes?” Bob was right behind him, following Sirus studiously and making a great effort to be quiet and stay out of his way. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Did any of the BioDerms ever happen to mention  where they got this ship?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Negative. I only saw the other BioDerms trying not to anger Mortok.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Nothing like an alpha-male to ruin one’s day...” Sirus muttered as he looked around for a doorway or hatch that would lead to the rest of the ship. In moments, he spotted one nestled between a pair of tubes at the back end of the bay. “Come on,” he said to Bob. “We’re going to try and tap into the data-banks.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative.” Bob turned to follow as Sirus stepped through the hatch. It didn’t take him long to find the bridge. Like all dropships, the interior design of this one was so to-the-point that one would have to be utterly alien not to understand the layout. Stepping into the bridge, Sirus saw the pilot’s chair immediately. Nearby another station butted into the nearest wall and bristled with displays and monitors and controls. Red ignored the pilot’s chair and went for the second station. There was a chair bolted to the floor in front of the largest display, and Sirus spun it around so he could sit down. He heard Bob clacking along behind him and was pretty certain that the insect was watching every single move he made in an effort to understand this strange new world. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Don’t get your hopes up, Bob,” he said absently as his fingers flew over the controls, waking the console. “I’m not much of a slicer.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “I have no hopes,” came the flat reply. “Nor do I know what a ‘slicer’ is.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You’re even more of a straight-man than Bug is.” Red’s efforts were fruitful, and the console beeped at him and came to life, spitting images and menus all over the display. It took him a moment to sort everything out, but once he did so, his fingers were a blur as he directed the ship’s computer to start showing him just about everything. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Ah, a straight-man. Kath’ik has taught me that concept.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Oh really? When? Sirus thought to himself. He was about to ask Bob that very question when he was distracted by the console. It beeped at him in triplicate, then enlarged the contents of a single file to fill the entire display. “Ah, paydirt.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You have found something?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Yep. The ship’s logs.” Sirus glanced through the file. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Captain’s Log, March 15th, 3891 &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Captain Michael Khentor, Eagle’s Shadow  &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The name rang a bell faintly somewhere in the back of Sirus’s head, but he could not place it.  &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Our search for the Eagle’s Talon has so far proved both unfruitful and disastrous. My initial plan was to survey the planet from the air, but I had not taken into account the truly vicious sandstorms that sweep the surface. We were caught in one of these storms and forced to crash-land. The ship weathered the storm and the impact, but the flying sand has gotten deep into the engines and the circuits controlling it. My chief engineer tells me there’s nothing we can do without replacement parts. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It is with great reluctance that I’ve ordered the crew to abandon ship and prepare to march. The sands of this place are hot and unforgiving, and if we remain with the ship, we will certainly be broiled to death. My sensor specialist tells me that before we hit, he was registering some kind of underground tunnel system to our north. He thinks they may be remnants of volcanic activity from long ago in this planet’s history, though I don’t have the evidence to support his theory or tear it down. In any case, unless we find some shelter, we are as good as dead. Those tunnels are the only things resembling shelter within marching distance, so to them we shall go. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp As per standard procedure in abandoning ship, I have destroyed all military records and codebooks. The ship’s log I will leave in place, in case some other poor scrof finds himself and his crew stranded on this hell-hole. Perhaps it will make good reading for a dying man.  &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Oh, this is  definitely going home with us,” Sirus breathed. He tapped a command into his PDA and had RudeJelly in radio contact within moments. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “ RJ here,” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “RJ, I’ve got some data to beam your way. Forty-Two and I have been digging through that old B-E dropship and we’ve found some interesting things. You prepared to receive a data transmission?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “ Certainly, Red. Put it up on the two gigahertz band.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “It’ll have to be one-point-five, RJ. This old crate doesn’t have the modern commo gear the  Maelstrom does.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “ Roj that, I’ll switch it out on this end. Send away.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp With a few screen taps to direct the console, Sirus soon had a high-speed data-link established between the  Maelstrom and the  Eagle’s Shadow. He sent over the ship’s logs, along with reams of sensor data and every piece of information he thought might be useful. While that was going on, he turned to Bob. “The ship’s logs mention that this particular ship crash-landed on your homeworld about fifty years ago. It also says that the crew was searching for a  different ship, one called the  Eagle’s Talon. Do you know anything about that?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Negative. I know of only this ship.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Well, there goes my free lunch. You think Bug knows anything about this?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Affirmative, I believe he does, though I do not know what.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “We’ll have to ask him when he gets back, then.” Sirus got up from the chair and turned towards the doorway. “I think we’ve gotten everything out of this ship that we can, Bob. Let’s head on back to the  Maelstrom and see what we can do to help out the warriors.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “An excellent idea, RedSirus. They will be waking soon enough, and we should be there to allay their fears.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus led the way out of the  Shadow, his mind turning things over, percolating. Something about the  Shadow and the  Talon struck him as familiar, as if he should have been able to rattle it off like the latest dirty joke circulating around the DTM barracks. But he couldn’t remember what it was, even though he knew the answer was in his head somewhere. All the information he’d acquired in the last few hours was colliding in his head, making an analysis impossible. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp  Just let it go for the time being, Red, he told himself.  After all, it’s a day to the nearest port after Cibile. You’ll have plenty of time to mull all of this over in the Maelstrom . &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That he would. The problem was whether or not he would be able to put it all together. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Shaking his head minutely, Red re-adjusted the straps on his warharness and continued walking across the cool tarmac with Bob. <img src=http://scribers.midwestmail.com/ambushbug/BugSig.jpg align=LEFT> Member: DTM, XMEN Professional Tank Driver Card-carrying Base-Cracker Ugly Son-Of-A-Gun Bug's Tank Bumper Sticker: "If you can read this, you're already street pizza."

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Thu Oct 30, 2003 4:52 am

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "You are a fool, insect," Mortok said as Bug dragged him along by the cables bundled around his chest. "You cannot hope to torture information out of me." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug ignored him and continued walking. He was off of the tarmac now and approaching the tree line. There was a small rise a hundred meters away and he wanted to set Mortok down on the opposite side of it so that he and the BioDerm would be blocked from the Maelstrom's view. He wanted it that way not because he was shy--more than a few times in his past he'd resorted to torture in front of others--but because he didn't want Sirus to see what he was going to do. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was ironic when he thought about it. The technique he was going to use on the BioDerm was a particularly vicious one he'd dreamed up himself, but it was fairly clean. He wouldn't be spending hours scrubbing his entire carapace, that was for certain. He had seen far bloodier things done on various human holoshows, and he knew well that Sirus was no stranger to the sight of blood and gore. Hadn't they fought in the underground mazes of Anabas III together not so long ago? They'd spent hours afterwards scraping and cleaning blood from each other's armor. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It wasn't that what he was about to do was against the DTM code of conduct, either. While he respected that document as much as any other merc, Bug knew that it could not apply to his current situation, not when so much was at stake. Doubtless Sirus understood this as well, despite his not knowing everything yet. Perhaps even Spectre would understand this, though Bug imagined that the leader of the DTM could never bring himself to publicly condone such an act. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It's because you still want to appear as 'good' in his eyes, Bug thought. Stop trying to confuse yourself, warrior. Your friendship with him means much, and this act will change it. The thought was depressing, and Bug let out a small sigh as he realized that he had just come to a hard choice and taken the harder road, consequences be damned. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes, the thought of trying to get information out of an unwilling BioDerm is depressing, is it not, insect?" Mortok spoke quietly but condescendingly, his toothy smile unabated by his broken jaw. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp They were on the other side of the rise now, and Bug dropped him heavily. He would have liked to kick the trussed-up Slonn as hard as he was able, but he made himself hold back. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Touched a nerve, have I?" Mortok teased, obviously not wanting to let any opportunities to antagonize his captor go to waste. "I'm sure you'd enjoy the thought of cutting out my tongue, but that would make my interro--URK!" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug swooped down with one hand and grabbed Mortok's lower jaw, using it to pull the 'Derm to an almost-sitting position. "Continue your aimless prattling and I will ensure that I ask you only yes-or-no questions, which conveniently do not require the use of your tongue." He spoke in a low, deadly voice, and he made sure to wiggle his fingers enough to grind the broken parts of Mortok's jaw together to emphasize his point. He let go and the BioDerm flopped heavily back to the ground. That done, he stepped around Mortok until he stood by his head, whereupon he squatted down. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok's eyes followed him carefully. They did not show fear yet, only guarded hate. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sitting down now, Bug began to remove parts of his armor. He carefully undid the clamps holding its vambraces to his forearms and set both pieces down softly in the grass, leaving his arms bare to the elbow. He then unsheathed his talons and clacked them together before placing his hands under Mortok's neck. "Before I start, I am going to give you one single opportunity to make this easy on yourself." Bug pressed gently with his talons, barely hard enough to dimple the skin stretched over Mortok's lumpy neck-bones. "If you tell me everything now, without any prompting, I will undo your bindings and give you the opportunity to best me in single combat. If not, I will make ample usage of my knowledge of BioDerm anatomy. What is your answer?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok blinked, once, then twice. Bug could almost see the thoughts in his head as he weighed his options. Dishonor followed by honorable combat or an attempt to retain honor as long as possible, followed by an undoubtedly painful death? Bug waited for several minutes in silence, giving Mortok ample time to think. He knew in the back of his mind that this was also his own attempt to retain some semblance of honor for himself. He was quietly amazed that his time with the mercenaries had affected him this much, that he might feel regret in a situation like this. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well?" he prompted, more in an attempt to keep his thoughts on the task at hand than to get a reply out of Mortok. He knew what the answer would be. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok glared at him, then snorted. "Your offer is weak. Try what you will, insect." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "For the Hive, then," Bug said quietly. He repositioned his talons, angling them to rest over the skin covering the joints between Mortok's vertebrae. "Your kind has the egg. Where is it?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok gave no reply, only continued glaring. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug started his work. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus stood stock still, trying not to flinch. When Bug had applied the scent to his helmet, Sirus had wondered just how effective it would be, and if it would work at any sort of range. To his dismay, it was of the contact variety, and as a result, there was a green warrior standing directly in front of him within arm’s reach. It was bending over him and rubbing its antennae over the forehead of Red’s helmet, doing so in a slow and careful manner. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp There was plenty of time to look at the warrior as it sampled the scent, and Red was somehow not in the least surprised to find that this warrior was the one that Bug had wounded back in Cibile proper. The warrior’s right eye was missing from where Bug had pierced it with a throwing wedge. The socket was bare save for a crust of hardened purple blood and a thin mark on the lower arc where one edge of the throwing wedge had carved a line into the surrounding carapace. Where the wedge was he had no idea. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was hard not to relive the memory of this warrior and three of its brothers charging at them back in Cibile. Red’s armor still had a patch or two of blood on it that he hadn’t been able to scrape away, and he wondered if the warrior was angry about the deaths of its brothers. If so, it was too late to worry about it now. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It suddenly drew away, clacking to itself quietly as it did an about-face and went to rejoin the ranks of the other green warriors. Sirus let out a shaking breath, glad that it was over. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "It is satisfactory," Bob said from Red's left. "You are now recognized as a warrior-brother, RedSirus." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "That was really creepy-looking, Red," RJ said quietly over localcomms from his seat in the Maelstrom. "You all right?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yeah... I think. I don't want to do that again, that's all I can say." He turned to face Bob. "Uh, do all of them have to do that, or just one?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Just one. Your status will be communicated." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "That's a relief," Sirus replied, relaxing. "What do we do with them now?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "They require rest and nourishment. Mortok and his brethren drove them very hard on the trip here, and the battle for this place was exhausting.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What do they eat, now that you mention it?” Sirus knew that Bug could chow down on just about anything--he’d once witnessed his friend eat a block of tetrawood on a bet--but he didn’t know if his brothers had that kind of gastrointestinal fortitude. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Almost anything save for raw metal. Our Queen designed her warriors for desert work, where food and water are scarce.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “That’s a relief. I don’t think we’ve got enough food on the Maelstrom to feed them now and on the way back to Fenecia, but I’m sure there’s plenty of food for the taking in this place.” Sirus spun around slowly, surveying the nearby buildings until he found a likely prospect. “Send ‘em over to that one,” he said, pointing. “Looks like the cafeteria for the port workers.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Very well.” Bob turned and whistled quietly at the green warriors. They all snapped to face Bob as one, and then after a few moments, began to troop towards the building Sirus had pointed out. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You know, I hope there’s nobody holed up in there…” Sirus muttered quietly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “We are the only living beings within this city,” Bob intoned. “We were thorough.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red made a mental effort not to say the first thing that came to his mind, which would have been something along the lines of accusing Bob of being proud of murdering several hundred people. Then he let it go--there wasn’t anything to be done about it, and he knew well enough that Bob was simply making a statement of fact. The big chrome galoot couldn’t change his nature, and Red knew he was just going to have to put up with it no matter how insensitive Bob was. Not like I haven’t had practice… he told himself. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red turned to face Bob. “Now that you mention the raid, I think it’s time you told me more about what was going on.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “What do you wish to know?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “I’d like you to start from the beginning of all this: your capture. Be detailed and take as much time as you need, because I have this feeling that it’s going to be a while before Bug comes back.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “You would be correct in your assumption,” Bob intoned. “If I am to start from the beginning of this story, as you have requested, you must know one thing first above all: I went with the BioDerms of my own free will.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red blinked. Had he heard right--free will? Did that mean that Bob had been faking the whole time? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “It was not a move calculated to bring myself and Kath’ik together in conflict, if you are wondering that,” Bob said, as if reading Sirus’s mind. “At the time, I had no idea what was to transpire, and I only wished to go along as an observer. My green brothers were captured so easily that I knew my Queen would require information on their technique, lest it be used against our hive as a whole.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red listened as Bob spun his tale. For a being of ‘pure logic’ as he had stated earlier, Bob told a pretty good story. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Some time later… &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The howl broke Sirus out of the almost-hypnotic trance in which he’d been listening to Bob. The chrome insect was telling about Mortok’s endless drills and displays of dominance when the sound began. Red whipped around to face the direction of the howls, his ears perked and his armor’s audio amplifiers cranked. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Do not be alarmed,” Bob said, breaking from his storytelling. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red turned back and gave him a meaningful glance. “Mortok?” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Mortok,” Bob confirmed. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red wondered what it would take to make a BioDerm (especially one that had pretty much shrugged off a broken jaw as a minor irritant) let out a deep-throated howl of agony like the one he’d just heard. A lot, presumably. He found that he didn’t want to know. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bob began to speak again but Sirus held up his hand. “Hang on a second,” he said, fiddling with his armor’s settings. A moment later, after he’d turned off his hardshell’s audio amps he motioned for Bob to continue. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to hear them.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “We were tested endlessly,” Bob said without commenting on Red’s actions, continuing from where he’d left off. “Our strength and speed, our resistance to injury, and any other test Mortok could devise. It was difficult…” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug put the bloodstained cloth away in his carryall, and then put his now-clean katar in its sheath at his left hip. He had what he wanted, and he had ended it quickly for Mortok once he’d gotten his information. He had to give the BioDerm credit for holding out as long as he did--Bug had done this exact same thing to a human once and the man hadn’t lasted all of thirty seconds. Mortok had held out for fifteen minutes before he began talking. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He did not admire Mortok in the least for his show of resistance. What he now knew made him hate the BioDerm even more. However, that was no reason to leave him alive, as his compatriots might possibly pick him up at some later time. Bug’s methods were painful to the extreme, but not fatal in themselves--Mortok could have easily survived the week or two it might take for one of his own kind to find him and take him home, despite the fact that he would never have been able to make use of his limbs again. Thus, the katar. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp What he knew now was horrifying, and he wished that he could deny it, say it was just a ruse concocted by Mortok to appease him. There was no chance of that. What Dath had told him meshed all too neatly with Mortok’s information. The BioDerms had the egg, and they had the means of controlling warriors through their vatsats. Mortok had confirmed Bug’s fears about using the egg as a supply of fresh warriors, and he’d added on to them even more by telling Bug that it was likely that once the egg’s DNA was decoded that it would be added into the pool that the BioDerms used to make their warriors if it was not too incompatible. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That right there was a thought to make the Pact commanders’ hearts freeze in their chests. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Unfortunately, Mortok did not know the whereabouts of the egg. Bug had pressed him especially hard on that, but to no avail. He could only say that it was on a planet not in BioDerm space. He gave Bug the name of a hypergate that led to within a few jumps of the planet’s system, which was all he knew. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “Had I been promoted to take her place,” Mortok had breathed heavily, “I could tell you exact coordinates. But she has outwitted us both, insect.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “’She’?” Bug had asked. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp “My superior in this…undertaking. Render-of-Hearts.” &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He had a name now. By itself it was not useful, as BioDerms did not publish lists of their commanders. But it was something for him to focus on, the name of a person he could hold responsible for all of this, and the name of the person he would see dead before this was all over. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp At the very least, I will accomplish that, he told himself as he began his walk back to the Maelstrom. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He began to think about his goals as his feet carried him over the grass and then onto the tarmac. First he must find the planet the egg was on. Then he had to find out what it would take to retrieve it. Then he had to assemble a force to do just that. And on top of all that, he had to have insurance. He suspected that whatever he tried in his quest for the egg that there would be an excellent chance of failure, and if he failed the consequences for his human friends would be beyond severe. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp At the moment, the last requirement was the only thing he could do something about. It would require a quick detour on the trip back to Fenecia to send a message through the hyperweb and perhaps a couple of weeks for a response. But the man who would receive the message owed him a favor--a extremely large favor--and Bug had enough dirt to get the man, his family, and quite possibly everyone he knew or cared about on the wrong end of ‘expedite removal’ orders given by several large and powerful tribes. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp And he still doesn’t know what I am, Bug thought to himself with some amusement. But then again, assassins work better under a cloak of darkness. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Mortok, who would never again perceive the light of day, could have testified wholeheartedly to that fact.

Ambush Bug · Post by **Ambush Bug** » Thu Feb 19, 2004 5:19 pm

[INTERLUDE:] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp To call the situation 'bad' was an understatement, Dath realized. It could be worse, yes--if Tath still existed within the Hive-Mind, things would have been much worse--but her situation was still nowhere near 'good'. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bad for her, worse for Kath'ik. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Potentially worse for Kath'ik, she corrected herself. There was no point in being defeatist. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [You should give up,] Kik snarled at her. [You are in chains, Dath!] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [So I am,] Dath replied nonchalantly, raising her hands and rattling the 'chains' in Kik's face absently. In the Hive-Mind, there were no actual physical structures, only the ethereal equivalents to them. With enough control, one in the Hive-Mind could create mental weapons that behaved like the real thing, or chains in which to shackle one's foes. Kik had a great deal of such control, as she was over two thousand years old and had the experience to prove it. Dath, being much younger in comparison, didn't have the prowess to break the chains that held her down, nor did she have any real means of defeating Kik and the other Queens if she did somehow manage to get loose. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Tath, on the other hand, could have ripped the chains apart like wet paper and then blown Kik and the other Queens out of her way like grains of sand. Tath was not here, though--Tath had partaken of the Eternal Death, having deliberately severed her link to the Hive-Mind upon the destruction of her physical body. There had been no other means of keeping the information in Tath's head out of Kik's grasp. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath looked back on past events and wondered, for a moment, if she was getting soft. She was feeling regret for her brutally efficient actions of the past, she now knew. The strange thing was that she had not felt that way until she had conversed with Kath'ik, seen how his time with the humans had changed him. He was no longer her perfect general and bodyguard and backup plan, no longer the pawn for which she had played him. He was a someone now, a someone with his own desires and wants and history, a someone that had the capability to hate his own mother for what she had done to him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp No, not hate, she realized. She was still judging him by his childhood, when his new-found emotions had been less complex and easier for her to read. What he had felt for her here in the Hive-Mind was a sense of disgust mixed with resignment, the feeling of a person that hated what had to be done but was going to do it anyway. His emotion had been like a blade to her hearts, ice-cold and shocking as it pierced her, but even so, she had been proud of him at that moment, proud that he'd exceeded her expectations, even if in an unexpected fashion. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Was this what the rebel Queen had felt as her warriors, those self-aware wonders of the Great Civil War, had fought for her even though they knew they would eventually lose? Pride and regret? Dath suspected that it had been so. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Kik would never understand, she knew. She was incapable of it. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [Give in,] Kik said soothingly to her. [It's only a matter of time before I get what I want from you.] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath rattled her chains again mockingly. [Only a matter of time indeed, Kik. I will not make it easy for you.] What Kik wanted was what little information Dath had in her head, information which she'd locked away in her own mind right after Kath'ik had departed the Hive-Mind. She had deliberately made sure that she knew as few operational details of the latter part of her plan as possible, leaving those and some general instructions to Tath. For fifty years she had waited and brooded in the Hive-Mind, wondering how Tath had been progressing, but knowing better than to find out. Security through obscurity, as the humans called it. Not the best of measures, but the only one available to her since she was permanently linked to the other Queens' minds after the destruction of her body a half-century ago. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Dath tightened her grip on the locked-away information in her head once more, knowing that Kik would soon tire of her banter and begin serious attempts to excavate. She was going to hold out as long as possible, give Kath'ik as much time as she was able before Kik turned her attention directly on him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp [END INTERLUDE] &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The Maelstrom: &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, Sirus was able to relax. Everything and everyone had been packed into the Maelstrom two hours ago, and RJ was currently piloting the bulky ship towards the nearest jumpgate to Fenecia. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Red walked into the bunkroom he'd claimed as his own (easy, since it was the only one on the ship aside from RJ's), slid the door shut, and sat down heavily on the cot. He reached up and undid the seals on his helmet, then lifted it off his head, glad to feel the ship's cool air on his scalp. There was a quiet tingle at the base of his neck as the hardshell's neural interface disconnected, and then blessed relief. No more HUDs projected on his corneas, and no more of the slightly muffled sound of his own breathing through the armor's filtration systems, and thank Harabec, no more damp scalp. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp With a groan of relief, he started undoing the rest of the armor's clasps, taking off his gauntlets first, then removing the arms, then the cuirass, and finally shedding the waist and legs like a pair of pants. After that he stripped off the skinsuit underneath (also known as the 'stinksuit' by any hardshell-wearing warrior) and tossed it into a corner. Naked, he hopped into the bunkroom's shower stall with relief, glad that RJ made sure to keep the Maelstrom well stocked with water and good soap. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He wanted nothing more than to shower, towel off, and then catch some well-earned sleep. He knew it wasn't going to happen any time soon. If nothing else, pure shock was going to keep him awake for another hour or two. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Idly, he wondered if there was any of Bug's tequila left. Possibly. Not that he wanted to go up to Bug and ask right at the moment. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp This is nuts, he told himself. Sheer lunacy. If I hadn't seen all of it myself, I'd never believe it. True enough. But he'd seen it, and more importantly, he'd recorded it with his hardshell's built-in combat recorder, and ladies and gentlemen, combat recorders do not lie. Spectre was going to have one hell of a report on his hands when Sirus got back to Fenecia. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug had explained it all to him in great detail after they'd loaded his brothers up on the Maelstrom. That Bug had explained anything about his species in great detail was a surprise. He'd been tight-lipped about his race ever since Red had known him, Bug's explanation being that revealing any details to humans would result in instant retaliation from his homeworld. Now he was spewing out things left and right, completely at ease with doing so. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The first detail was that there was not just one homeworld, but fifteen of them. Second, all the Hives on those homeworlds had been wiped out in a single stroke by the BioDerms. Third was that the BioDerms had done it for one and only one reason--to procure one of his race's 'progenitor eggs'. Since the 'Derms had spent the time and effort to figure out how to subjugate Bug's species through the use of their vatsats, what they intended to do with it was plainly obvious. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That Red could deal with easily. He'd heard more outlandish things in the DTM mess hall (though not by much). What blew his mind was that Bug had apparently been given the task of getting the egg back by his mother, who had been dead for almost half a century. Bug had explained as best he could the concept of the Hive-Mind--a collective of the minds of the currently living Queens of his race that also stored the thoughts, memories, and personalities of every deceased Queen at the same time. Better yet, Bug himself was now host to this Hive-Mind since all of the other Queens were now dead. Bug's exile had been a sham. He'd been thrown out of his homeworld not because he'd failed to protect his mother as he'd related to Sirus in the past, but to get him out of harm's way. Dath had known this event was coming the whole time and planned accordingly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp That's the part I'm having trouble with, Sirus thought. Clairivoyant insects? It beggared the imagination. Even so, just about everything else Bug has told me has been correct. Why not that part as well? And to be perfectly blunt, what does it matter? Bug is still going on this quest of his whether he thought it up himself or if his deceased mother really did tell him to do it. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp And there was the crux of what bothered Sirus. Bug had become single-minded. The human niceties that he'd picked up with the DTM had all almost disappeared, replaced with an iron conviction to get that egg back or die trying. It was, to be frank, damn scary given the speed at which it had happened. But what was he going to do about it? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Ah, there was the question. And the answer was 'damn little'. There wasn't any point in trying to stop Bug or convince him that what he'd 'seen' was a hallucination. To Bug, the story was ironclad and the threat was real. If he was going to go off somewhere and get himself killed, words or official orders from Spec would do little to slow him down. Red thought that, if pushed, Bug would drop his own DTM membership and go it alone if he had to. The best thing Sirus could do was stick around. If what Bug said was true, then it would be a wise thing to get independent human verification of the threat so the Pact wouldn't be taken completely by surprise. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp There was suddenly a quiet, metallic knock at the door, barely audible through the thrum of the shower. Red turned off the water and wrapped a towel around himself before heading to the door. When he opened it, he wasn't terribly surprised to see RJ standing there. He was still wearing his light hardshell, though he'd removed his helmet. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Caught you at a bad time, Red?" RJ asked. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well, I am without pants at the moment, but otherwise no." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Sorry," RJ replied, and slid the door closed. Sirus took the time to quickly pull on a pair of pants and then opened the door and beckoned RJ in. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What's up?" Sirus asked as RJ took a seat on the bunk after closing the door again. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Ship's on autopilot for a while. I need someone to talk you, and you're it." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "The others aren't much for conversation, eh?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "You could say that." RJ bit his lip for a moment, then looked at Sirus directly. "To put it bluntly: this is freaking me out, Red." RJ shook his head before continuing. "All of it. What happened back at Cibile, and then what Bug told us." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well, I can't say I blame you, RJ. This is burying the needle on the wierd-o-meter." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I've served with this guy for what... a year and a half now, and just when I think I'm getting used to having him around... " &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Everything goes nuts, right?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes! OK, the 'Derms coming in and making their usual havoc I can understand. Not exactly anticipated this far out, but normal, if you get my drift." Sirus nodded that he did. "But this whole thing with them killing off the rest of Bug's race and then stealing one of their whatchamacallit eggs is just a little too much to take in all at once, you know?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I've been having similar thoughts, yes," Sirus admitted. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "But that isn't what's really getting to me, Red. It's Bug himself. I don't know him that well, but even I can tell he's changed in the last twenty-four hours. Whatever happend to him when he was unconscious out on the tarmac really stripped a couple of his gears, I think." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Oh, I'd agree with that. Bug's different now. He's going to get that egg back no matter what it takes, even if he gets killed in the process." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "It's creepy, Red, seeing that much determination come to the front all of a sudden. And you should have been there when he dropped off his message pod before we went through the last Gate." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus blinked. This was news. "Message pod?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yeah, he didn't mention that?" RJ asked, eyebrow raised. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "No." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "It was wierd. I heard him recording it over the intercom--I've had it on ever since we loaded up Bob and his green pals in the cargo bay. Can't be too careful, you know." Red nodded at this. Despite Bug's assurances, he still didn't quite trust the green ones to behave. "Anyway, he didn't sound like himself." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "How do you mean?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "It's like he switched voices with someone else. It was a man's voice, definitely human and very commanding. He said, and I quote: 'This is Khitin. The time for your repayment has come. Have the item I requested of you ready for delivery within six weeks. Comply or you will suffer the consequences. Delivery coordinates and time to be announced. Do not reply to this message; I will contact you.' Then he brought it up to the cockpit and asked me a make a message stop." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus let out a long 'hrrrm' at this. "Anything else?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yeah, when I asked him about it, the only thing he would say was that it was 'insurance'." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Insurance?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ shrugged. "Beats me. I got a look at the address, though. You'll never guess where it's going." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Try me," Red grunted, still turning over the 'insurance' remark in his head. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Nova Alexandria," RJ said, a wry smirk on his face. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "On Earth? The Empire's capital?" This was a shock, to be sure. What kind of contact did Bug have back on Earth, and more importantly, how did he get it? &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "The one and only. What do you think of it, Red?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus turned the question over, wondering. He could discern several pieces of information from what RJ had given him, though none made much sense yet. He was fairly certain the contact back on Earth was someone with some kind of political power--who else would be at Nova Alexandria but people with political power? Bug had either done this person a favor back before he'd joined the DTM or he'd dug some some serious dirt on him--Bug's message indicated that there would be consequences if the person didn't comply, and threatening someone with sufficient influence to reside in the Imperial Capital was not a thing done lightly. The 'item' in question could be anything, and how it was to be used as 'insurance', Red had no idea. For a moment, Red wondered if Bug had suddenly gone double-agent on him, and he tossed that idea aside just as quickly as it had come to him. Bug had specifically stated that he would not do anything to harm Red or the DTM, and despite all of the recent strangeness in his friend, Red was confident that Bug's word was iron in that respect. He'd have to leave it at that for now. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "RJ, as suspicious as all of that sounds, I think we shouldn't do a thing about it right now." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ blinked at that. "But Red... it was to the Empire! You know they've been wanting to subjugate the 'Zone for centuries! What if--" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus cut him off. "RJ, it's not that. Don't ask me how I know, but I don't think Bug's gone double-agent on us or anything. Besides, nothing personal, but you haven't known Bug as long as I have. If there's any entity he hates more than the Blood Eagle, is the Imperials. I'll report all of this to Spectre when we get back, don't you worry about that. Your objections included," he added as RJ was about to say something else. That seemed to mollify him a bit. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm worried about this whole egg thing just as much as you are. But neither one of us has had the time or the space to try and figure it all out, and I want to have Spec take a look at it before anything more gets done by us. We need a fresh, experienced perspective on this, and that's what we're gonna wait for." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "So I just go on like nothing, er, out of the ordinary has happened?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus chuckled. "Yeah, pretty much. We got a decently-long flight ahead of us, so let's just kick back and relax as much as we can. We'll sort it out on Fenecia." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp RJ shook his head. "You're the boss, Red," he said, getting up. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yeah, and I hate it sometimes. I'll be glad to dump this on Spectre's desk." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "You and me both," RJ said as he stepped out of the room and slid the door closed behind him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp The rest of the flight was uneventful. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Fenecia, four days later: &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp There was a quiet 'thump' as the Maelstrom touched down on the landing pad, its heavy landing gear compressing and absorbing the shock of the freighter's weight. Bug and his brothers in the cargo bay swayed momentarily as the ship's T-Grav systems first synched up with Fenecia gravity and then shut off. It was a slightly unpleasant feeling; the quick shift in gravity made his stomachs lurch. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp He turned to Forty-Two and spoke. "Remember your task. Keep our green brothers close together and quiet. The mercenaries are quite used to me, and you they can handle, but an entire drove of us will be a shock to them. I will inquire about housing and food arrangements as soon as a I can. Until then, keep our brothers near the Maelstrom." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Affirmative," Bob replied, clacking his mandibles together once. "What else?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "There will certainly be a mercenary near the Maelstrom at all times. If you must contact me while I am away, ask the mercenary to have me located." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. "Remember to say 'please' and 'thank you', as I instructed. Humans value politeness, Forty-Two. I will be gone for some time, I suspect, so I must rely on you to provide a good example to the humans." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Affirmative." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Well enough. I will return as soon as I am able." As Bug said this, the Maelstrom's hangar bay doors were opening and the ramp extending. Bright sunlight poured into the bay, along with a fresh Fenecian breeze. "With any luck, I will have procured housing for us, as well as a ship. We must get to Homeworld as soon as possible, before your brothers starve to death." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Here Bob stopped his gentle herding of the green brothers and turned to look at Bug fully. "Do you believe the mercenaries will help us travel to Homeworld?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "If I make a good case for it, yes. Helping us is mutually beneficial to them, Forty-Two. You know as well as I what the consequences are if we fail." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Correct." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug strode down the ramp, to be met by Sirus at the bottom of it. Sirus and RJ had kept to themselves for most of the trip back to Feneica, and he wondered about it. The likely explanation was that the smell of the green brothers was too much for them. The Maelstrom did not have the ventilation that a hive would, and the overpowering pheromones of the green ones had collected and staled in the cargo bay. Even so, the two mercs had been quiet for the whole trip, and Bug wondered if the sudden shock of recent events had affected them. Or perhaps Sirus had spent the time creating his report to Spectre. He certainly had a great deal of information to convey back the DTM's leader. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Hail, Bug," Sirus called as Bug reached the bottom of the ramp. "You got your brothers squared away?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes, Forty-Two will be keeping them near the Maelstrom while you and I discuss our trip with Spectre. Is RJ coming with us?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus chuckled. "Nah, he headed right for the mess hall soon as we touched down. I've spent the last day listening to him wishing for fresh bacon and eggs instead of ship's rations." Sirus rubbed his stomach slightly. "Can't say I blame him, though. I bet you're looking forward to breaking into your honey stash, eh?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Not especially. I have more pressing concerns at the moment," Bug replied, checking over his gear. He'd spent the last day aboard the Maelstrom cleaning every last speck of blood from his carapace, armor, and warharness. It would not do to see Spectre still coated with the results of his battles and his time with Mortok. The rents in his armor he could do nothing about, and frankly, he didn't want to. They lent credibility to his story. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Sirus blinked once at Bug's reply and then went on. "That we do. I got one suggestion before you talk to Spec, though." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What's that?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Hose off somewhere. You are just a little fragrant right now, Bug. I don't know how you all didn't suffocate from the smell in the cargo-bay." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "To be quite honest, it reminded me of home," Bug replied. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Uh-huh." Sirus cocked an eyebrow at his friend. "Come on, I know a good spot to get you cleaned up." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug followed as Sirus led the way, still thinking about his upcoming talk with Spectre. He had to get to Homeworld. Had to. What he was going to propose, no sane human would undertake, and that left the actual task of getting the egg back in insect hands. Just his own at the moment, though if Spectre was agreeable there would be many more to help him with the burden. --- &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spectre's office was sparse and minimalist, which was something that Bug had always found reassuring in a way. As often as Spec humorously referred to himself as a 'benevolent dictator' and his main workdesk as his 'throne', the lack of ostentation in the office decor told a different tale, that of a man determined to lead the best damn mercenary fighting force in the Wilderzone. The walls of his office were not blank, not at all, but they were quite practical--a large tactical viewscreen on one wall, a live map of the Wilderzone in 3-D on another, and a large chart with the entire DTM roster listed on the third. The only thing that could be considered a decoration was hanging on the wall behind his desk: a fantastically detailed holopainting of the DTM flagship Aquitaine orbiting Fenecia. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spectre sat in his chair, brows furrowed as he looked over the datapad Bug had given him ten minutes earlier. Since he had begun reading, he had not looked up, nor had he asked any questions. His lean face had not changed expression at all, either, only displaying a mask of hard concentration. Bug stood calmly while Spectre read, waiting for him to speak. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec put the pad down on his desk and looked up at Bug. "If I hadn't read Sirus' version of this half an hour ago, Bug, I'd say you two hallucinated the whole thing. But Red's combat recorder is some pretty hard proof. Where are your brothers now?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Forty-Two and my green brothers are currently with the Maelstrom. I left them there to avoid any problems. I hope you will provide some area for them to stay for the time being. Our kind does not require much, as you know." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "True," Spec replied. The lack of furniture in Bug's room was well known. "I'll have Hangar 3 cleared out for them. Should be ready in a couple of hours." Spec glanced back at the datapad agains before continuing. "So, according to your report here, you were deliberately decieved about the nature of your exile?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "That is correct. I was built for a purpose and sent away as a safety measure, not exiled for the death of my mother." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec 'hmmm'ed softly. "And yet, you say you received your information about your homeworlds' destruction from your mother? Deceased for the last fifty years, if I recall correctly." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug nodded. He had expected this question. "Also correct. Queens whose bodies are killed have their minds traferred to the race collective, which we call the Hive-Mind." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec stared at him now, stared long and hard, assessing him. He did this for almost ten seconds before continuing, his face relaxing as he spoke. "I believe you, if you're wondering." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I was. I suspect that RedSirus has some doubts about what I have told him--" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "As would anyone presented with this tale all of a sudden. You have deceived through omission in the past, Bug--just like almost everyone here that likes to keep his checkered past in the dark--but I have never known you to outright lie to me or your fellow mercs. Furthermore, I don't see that you would have a reason for doing so now. Thus, I am accepting your story and also looking for the ramifications of it." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp It was hard not to show any reaction to Spectre's statement. Bug's worst fear had been that Spectre would not believe him, and thus doom his quest to an early failure. Now there was some hope. "Ramifications?" Bug asked. "Did I not outline the consquences in my report?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "You did. Straightforward and blunt, just the way I like them," Spec smiled. "But I still want to hear things straight from the source. Ply me with tales of doom, AB." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug, taken a little aback at what he perceived to be unwarranted levity, began to speak after a moment's pause to collect himself. He did not realize that Spectre was sounding him out, looking for traces of mania; nor did he know that a worried RedSirus had specifically asked Spectre to do so. "Tales of doom?" Bug said. "If you desire, then yes, I can tell you what will happen if the BioDerms keep the egg until it hatches." Spectre gestured for him to continue, even as he watched Bug intently. "In six months, the progenitor egg will hatch. I do not believe the Slonn will attempt to rush the process, since they have only the one egg and no means of replacing it. The Queen inside the egg will do what comes naturally, and begin building herself a hive and laying eggs. Within a month, she will have enough workers to begin serious excavation and food collection. Five months after that, she will have reached her full egg-laying capabilities." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What then? Spectre asked, still studying him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "A mature Queen can produce ten to fifty thousand warriors per month, depending on climate, need, and food supply. The warriors take a full year to mature to combat-ready status. The BioDerms have somehow managed to copy the communication pheromones of my race, as evidenced by their use of vatsats. It will be trivally easy for them to subjugate the Queen and her warriors, and two years from today, if the egg is not retrieved, they will have what may be considered an endless supply of shock troops at their disposal." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spectre arched an eyebrow at Bug. "Retrieved? Not destroyed?" He said it gently, though he deliberately meant to provoke Bug with the question. For a moment, Bug's antennae flipped backwards and Bug tensed. Then he relaxed, though it was plain to see the question had jarred him. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Destroying the egg is an option," Bug stated. "But it is the final option, Spectre, only to be used if there is no chance that the Queen may be saved from the BioDerms. You must realize that it is the last living Queen of my kind, and if she is destroyed, we will be extinct. Retrieval must be attempted. I have no choice in the matter." Bug paused, head cocked. "What would you do to save the last living pregnant female of your kind, Spectre? Anything, I would suspect. Was not the Dies Irae project of the StarSiege era similar to the dillemma I face now? Or what General Gierling did during the Fire?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec winced internally. He'd forgotten that Bug had made an extensive study of human history. "Touche', Bug. Point taken. What are you going to do?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Ask for your help," he replied promptly. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "What kind of help? I haven't got a whole lot of soldiers to spare, Bug, what with the BioDerms running rampant these days." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I realize that, Spectre. At the moment, I need just two things: Someone willing to scout planets for me--one man will be enough--and enough transportation to carry four hundred of my brothers." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Both of Spec's eybrows went up. "Four hundred? But there's only thirty of your brothers here, Bug." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Here, yes. On Homeworld, no." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I thought your hive had been destroyed by the BioDerms," Spec said quizzically. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Beheaded, not destroyed. My Hive was a special case, Spectre. Did RedSirus's report contain information about Forty-Two, whom he calls 'Bob'?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes. You fought him at Cibile, yes?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Correct. He is one of the Steel Warriors, warriors made sentient like me and physically rebuilt. My mother and Tath prepared for the eventuality of our Hives being destroyed by creating him and his brothers. When the BioDerms attacked, a few of the Steels were to hide the progenitor egg deep in the hive tunnels, but they were destroyed. The surviving Steels retreated to a prepared hibernation area and collapsed the tunnels behind them. They wait only for me to come to Homeworld and free them. They are why I need transport. I plan to use them, and only them, to retrieve the egg from the BioDerms." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec nodded slowly. "Transport can be arranged. I can get the Nimbus and a few other ships ready for you in a day or two. What about this scout, though? What's his purpose?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug paused for a moment, wondering how to continue. What information he had came from Mortok's interrogation, and he was unsure if Spec knew about this or not. He decided to lay it all out; Spec's comments earlier about his honesty had hit home, and Bug found that he wanted to continue to have that kind of respect from one of the few humans he found admirable. "I must confess, first, that I retrieved the following information from a prisoner of war. Mortok, to be exact. He was reluctant, and I encouraged him to speak." He waited for Spectre to reply, wondering what his reaction would be. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec said nothing, but gestured minutely for Bug to continue, his face wooden. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "The BioDerms have a research station on a planet far out in the wilds. This is where they have taken the egg. Mortok was only able to provide me with a general area of space. That is why I need to have a scout. I need someone willing to look at all the planets in that region of space and determine which one has the research station. I expect it will be dangerous work, for once the planet with the station is found, information about its layout and defenses must be gathered." Bug paused for a moment before continuing, wondering why Spectre hadn't commented on his torture of Mortok yet. "If you wish to punish me for the torture of a prisoner of war, I will submit to whatever you deem appropriate. In my own defense, I must say that--" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spec held up his hand, and Bug cut himself off at the gesture. Spectre's eyes were locked on him, though Bug was not sure of what emotion they held. "Sirus already told me of this, Bug, and I've been thinking about it the whole time. Thank you for telling me about it of your own free will, though. I appreciate it. As you are well aware, we have a code of conduct higher than that of most other Tribes. It is necessary to do so since we are a mercenary force--if we are not respected and trusted, we will not be hired. Not that I expect the BioDerms to attempt to negotiate a contract, nor would I accept one if they did, but the principle is the same." Spectre paused to pull out an official-looking sheaf of paper from a drawer in his desk and began to read from it. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Thereby, effective immediately, you are hereby stripped of all rank and status with the Dragon Talon Mercenaries. You may keep your weapons and your armor, but you will be required by the end of today to remove the DTM insignia from it. Your accumulated pay, which is currently quite large and in your account with the DTM adjutant, is being confiscated." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Spectre, I had no other--" Bug began, but Spec stopped him with a wave of his hand. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I'm not finished, yet, Bug," he said, and a hard, thin smile broke out on his face. "As I was saying, your pay is being confiscated... and will be used to finance your contract with us." Spec pulled out a single sheet of paper with several lines of text on it and an official DTM insignia embossed into it and laid it out on the desk facing Bug. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Contract?" Bug asked incredulously. What he was hearing he could not believe. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Spectre's smile softened. "Bug, what you've described to me is a serious threat to the entire Wilderzone. It must be taken care of. But I cannot enforce the code of conduct on a case-by-case basis, or it will become meaningless. That is why you've been discharged. The warrior I see standing in front of my desk now is no longer one of my mercenaries, but an ambassador from a tribe of warriors in dire need. Will you accept our help?" &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp For the first time in a great while, Bug was at a complete loss for words. He looked down at the contract on the desk. "This contact is between the Dragon Talon Mercenaries and the Ambassador Kath'ik and his tribe," it began, and continued on to list the amount of credits required for payment and the terms and conditions. The 'will provide', section, he noticed, was blank. He looked up at Spectre. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Go ahead and sign it, Bug," Spec said gently. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Bug did, scratching into the paper with a talon the same symbol that was carved into his shoulder, just as he'd signed his application. &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Now get down the armory and have them work on your armor, Ambassador," Spec said softly. "Dismissed." &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Wordlessly, Bug turned around and left, closing the door after him.

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