Queen World of the Insectoid Empire
Brood chamber of the Hive mother
May 25th, 2176 A.D. (17 weeks after rescue)
The Hive mother marveled at the new concepts she had been gifted with by the strange machine animal. She found herself enjoying the intelligence and logic of Bandit-Friend and appreciated its patience with her as she asked her endless questions.
Now she understood why this animal held such an important place within her sister’s spirit and mind and why her sister had wisely chosen it to come as the envoy of the fighting animals.
Every time it unknowingly made her angry, she accessed the shared memories of her sister’s daughter struggling to leave her pupa and Bandit-Friend helping the daughter choose to fight and live.
Seeing the machine animal save the daughter’s life made her anger dissipate, and she would regain control of herself. Such a gift of lifesaving was precious and must be preserved.
Her soon-to-be daughters were nearing their own time to break out of their pupae, and this was her worst fear, having to cull them for weakness. Perhaps she will ask Bandit-Friend to stay and assist.
Bandit-Friend made claw signs as he answered her question. She found this way of sharing thoughts exceptionally clever, and she felt guilty for killing her drones to learn it quickly.
It is better for two hundred drones to die for peace than two hundred billion to die for war, she thought to herself as Bandit-Friend finished making claw signs.
~ Hive mother, by marking thoughts onto paper and documents, both the intent and promises between the Hives become a truth that prevents one Hive from falsely claiming it was never made. It is the animal way of declaring intentions and enshrining the promises made with each Hive. ~
~ Hive mother, your sister came to her asking for peace, knowing that the animals would most likely destroy her. The Hive mother respected her courage and chose to change her thinking because of this action.
She is a queen mother also, and she does not want to see her sons and daughters die in war. The children are supposed to bury the ones who gave them life. To the animals, having their children die before them is against the natural order of life and the worst thing they could possibly experience. ~
The Hive mother felt the concepts penetrating her mind, finding herself thinking of all the animal daughters and male drones they killed.
How many queen mothers knew this grief? How many abominations against the order of life did they commit as they took worlds that did not belong to them?
As her mind expanded to encompass all the billions they killed, guilt and remorse for the wrongness committed against the animals constricted her spirit. The wrongness they had made was unfathomable, and the Hive mother felt herself being crushed by the regret weighing down on her.
She cried out in anguish and dismay as the truth of what they had done to the animals overwhelmed her, and she felt herself drowning in the shame washing over her.
She felt the distant thoughts of her Hive mothers within calling out to her, and she desperately reached out to them, begging them to save her as she felt her essence being borne away.
< Daughter of ours, we are here with you. You cannot right the wrongness if you let it destroy you. Remember why you are doing this; remember your daughters, who need you to help them emerge from their pupae and become queens.>
She seized on the thoughts of her daughters to be, envisioning their pupae. They needed her. She must be there for them and bring them into a world filled with peace and love, not hate and death.
The torrent receded, and she focused on her new purpose as Hive mother. She ruled not for herself but for her daughters and the Hives. She had a responsibility to them, and they needed her.
She fought against the wrongness that was trying to consume her and was suddenly back within herself, still staring at Bandit-Friend. She must ask for pardon; it was the only way to make peace with the animals.
Bandit-Friend responded to her immediately, his strange yellow eyes staring into hers.
~Yes, Hive mother. I will help you. ~
Ominian System
Automated Border Outpost 1D-25
1,893 light years from Earth
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The door alert startled Hreth’nir, causing its hand to slip and mar the holo statue floating in the air in front of him. It angrily glanced at the wall, seeing the time displayed on it. Who dared to disturb it at such a time?
Frustration welled up inside of Hreth’nir as it swiped a hand over the statue, causing over two solar days of effort to disappear forever. There was no fixing the mistake and salvaging the statue it was working on, and it turned towards the door to see who had caused this.
Hreth’nir’s anger turned to confusion and shock as it saw the human child on the screen next to the door. It froze in place, unsure of what to do. On the screen, Hreth’nir watched as Ray lifted his hand and pressed on the panel, the door alert sounding again within the quarters.
The sound snapped Hreth’nir out of its indecision, and it walked over to stand by the splayed open suit in the center of its quarters before speaking loudly and then flicking a finger.
“You may enter.”
The door silently slid aside into the wall recess, and Ray looked directly at Hreth’nir before raising his right hand and speaking.
“Honored Elder, my apologies for disturbing you at such an hour. I’m- I’m sorry, I can come back. Please forgive the intrusion.”
Ray, still standing in the passageway, started to turn away, and Hreth’nir responded quickly, not wanting the human child to go.
“Please, Ray. Do not leave. You may enter; I was working on something, and you are not disturbing me.”
Ray had turned away and stopped, his back to Hreth’nir as he listened to its words. He slowly turned around and faced Hreth’nir again before hesitantly stepping through the threshold.
“Thank you, Honored Elder, for receiving me at such a time. I have found myself unable to sleep well since our…last conversation.” The human said quietly as he lingered just beyond the threshold, as if afraid to proceed any further.
Hreth’nir felt shame at the mention of their last discussion, and it gestured towards the chair it had made for the human child.
Hreth’nir noticed the formal address of honored elder, and sadness came over it. Their friendship had been destroyed before it even had a chance to begin, all because of its arrogance.
“Please come and sit, Ray. I will have refreshments brought for us.”
The human child nodded silently and walked over to the chair, sitting in it slowly and then looking at Hreth’nir. Flicking a finger and sending a thought command, Hreth’nir walked over to join him as a nanobot swarm emerged from the floor and constructed it a seat.
The servant android appeared with a tray of water and baklava, which was quickly becoming Hreth’nir’s favorite thing to eat. It had noticed that it gained weight and refrained from eating the delicious food the last few days, but this occasion merited it.
Sitting in the newly made chair opposite the human child, Hreth’nir waited for the android to finish setting the tray on the small table between them before beginning to speak.
The human child raised his hand first and began to speak before Hreth’nir could.
“Honored Elder, I wish to apologize for my behavior during our last discussion. It was out of line, and I ask that you forgive my rudeness.”
Hreth’nir stared at the human for a few moments before answering.
“No.”
Ray’s face displayed shock at what it had said, and his dark skin visibly paled. He looked like he was about to speak again, and Hreth’nir shot his hand up to stop him from speaking.
“I cannot accept your apology, my human child. The fault lies with me, and my arrogance is the cause of our relationship being irrevocably damaged. I ask for your forgiveness in this matter.”
The human child’s mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to speak with a strained voice, his eyes full of confusion as he stared at Hreth’nir.
“Honored Elder, I appreciate your efforts to make things right, and I accept. However, I do not understand why you think our relationship has been damaged beyond repair. What could possibly make you think that?” He asked, looking at Hreth’nir as if it had just said something ludicrous.
Hreth’nir felt itself becoming uncomfortable from the human’s stare and looked away before answering.
“When you asked me to leave, I thought you meant that you never wanted to see me or speak with me ever again. Is this not so, my human child?”
“No, Hreth’nir! How could you possibly think that? That’s ridiculous. I value our working relationship, and I consider you a friend. I still do. What happened before is not enough to change my view on both aspects.”
Hreth’nir noticed the change from formal to familiar address when the human child spoke its name, and he felt his spirits lifting. It looked back at the human child, hopeful that this meant their friendship could be salvaged.
“It gladdens my soul to hear you say this, my human child. I had thought my arrogance destroyed our friendship before it even began. I cannot properly convey the relief I am feeling right now to find that this is not so.”
The human child leaned forward in the chair and looked Hreth’nir directly in the eyes as he spoke.
“You are my friend. You have always been my friend, and you always will be. I am sorry you have been thinking like this for all this time. I should have come here to do this the next day instead of letting you think I did not wish to have anything to do with you for all this time. I am sorry, Hreth’nir.”
The human child pushed himself up of the chair with the armrests and stood in front of Hreth’nir. It stood up as well, not understanding what was going on but feeling like it was proper to stand as well.
The human child stepped forward and opened his arms as he spoke again. “I am sorry, Hreth’nir. I do not want us to have what happened lingering between us anymore.”
An atavistic instinct within Hreth’nir compelled it to move forward into the human’s arms, and it obeyed the desire. Before it knew what was truly happening, it found itself within the human’s embrace, feeling the soft pressure of the arms pressing it against the human’s chest.
It felt right, and it felt good. After a moment, the pressure lessened and the embrace ended, something Hreth’nir did not want to end so soon. Ma’lit only physically touched their mates, and this felt the same but different.
The human stepped back a pace, smiling at Hreth’nir before putting his right hand out.
“Friends again?” He asked Hreth’nir, still smiling.
Hreth’nir put out its right hand and clasped the human’s, relief flooding through it as they both moved their hands up and down in unison.
“Thank you for this, Ray. I am grateful.” Hreth’nir said quietly in a trembling voice after the handshake ended.
Still smiling, Ray replied as he sat back in the chair and leaned against the back support.
“I am glad we worked this out. I couldn’t really sleep after what happened, and now that we have straightened this out, I feel like I can finally relax and catch up on my rest.” He leaned his head back, still looking at Hreth’nir as he finished speaking.
“I must confess I had difficulty as well, Ray. I have been working on several proj-”
Hreth’nir stopped talking, noticing that Ray’s eyes were now closed. He did not seem to notice that it had stopped speaking, and Hreth’nir clamped its mouth shut. Ray had fallen asleep on the chair, and it did not want to disturb him.
Getting up quietly, Hreth’nir rose from its own chair and flicked a finger, ordering the servant android to go into silent mode and put itself to sleep. Hreth’nir stepped back, careful not to make any noise, and moved away from the human.
Flicking another finger, the lighting dimmed as Hreth’nir silently walked towards the sleeping section of the quarters, pausing at the threshold to look at the human child one more time before entering.
After performing its last prayers of the day, Hreth’nir climbed into the sleeping alcove, feeling its own overwhelming desire to sleep. It closed its eyes, smiling to itself as all the regret and anxiousness drifted away. They were friends again, and that was all that mattered.