Mr. T looked like he might get sick as he interviewed the nest queen. “I was just ... done ... with the delving interview. Done. I felt sick and exhausted. Evidently these queens have a significant delving skill of their own. She could access my thoughts, emotions, memories. She managed to ‘speak’ to me in a peculiar manner, though eventually it became more like actual talking.
“At first it was almost as though she strung sentences together from my memories of old movies and the like. It was ... odd. The words to adequately explain what she did escape me. Despite the peculiar nature of her method of communication the sense of the message was clear. By the time I was finished asking questions, and was completely drained, she was able to speak into the delve.
“She said, ‘You enjoyed that as much as I did, didn’t you sweetie? But you forgot to ask an important question. I’ll let you know the answer anyway. There’s a High Queen on this expedition. And I can tell you Sweetie, she sure is looking for you. When she finds you, she’ll either eat you or persuade you to be an ambassador. Me, I’m hoping she eats you. Sometimes she shares. I could just gobble you up, sweet-thing, yes I could.’
“After that, the rancid queen smiled and for all intents and purposes, smacked her lips.”
That’s when Para smashed it.
We still weren’t finished, there was the rest of the ship crew to dispatch. Mr. T shook his head hard, trying to clear his mind.
“Roll, port with Viz and Para to that assembly room, under cloak. See if you can get in behind that squad of bugs with the shield generator. Take them out if you can. Let us know what you see.
“Rock and I will be ready to move in from this direction. If I order, ‘Roll port!’, get out of the way fast. I’ll be opening up with Ma here.”
He made a point of patting his .50 cal. and smiling.
We cloaked and ported to the assembly room. Cloak. Cloak. Cloak. It only took a minute to sneak along the passageway to where we could see the T-section. There was a platoon size group of bugs milling around at the T-section, looking agitated. It looked as though the shield generator was offline. I think they knew their queen was dead. There were too many of them for us to open fire and hope we got them all before they returned the favor. We had no cover.
I wished then I had switched over to a 6.8 squad rifle. For this, we needed the extra pop. I whispered, “Let’s do this. Para, let me borrow your rifle. Roll and I will light them up for the count of two, then Para tosses a grenade as we port back to the assembly room.”
They nodded as Para handed her 6.8 to me and readied a grenade. We opened fire, one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand. Para tossed the grenade and we ported back to the room. More gunfire! The thumping of round after round from the .50 cal.
Mr. T called over the comms. “Are you back in the assembly hall? A couple bugs may be coming your way.”
Para pulled her Desert Eagle. Roll took a knee, looking down the passageway. I sprawled out on the deck and took aim. “Copy that. We’re in position.”
Bugs! We were ready. The bugs in the rear had a look of shock as the yellowish blood and tissue of their comrades spattered on them. The bugs in front didn’t have time to emote. Eight bugs in all. The noise of their screams made it sound more like 80 bugs. Para had said something about spiracles on insects, a bunch of little airways. There was no return fire. Three bugs managed to spin in the slippery gore and run back the way they had come.
I was surprised at my own lack of emotion as I radioed. “Three coming back your way.”
Mr. T was quick to respond. “Stay put, we have them.” More noise.
We carefully cleared the entire ship. There were no more soldiers. No more bugs. It must have been a real skeleton crew. Or, I guess with these guys, an exoskeleton crew.
Oh no. I’ve been reading too many of Communal’s side reports. Exoskeleton crew. For goodness sakes. But then the other emotions caught up, and I broke down in tears. The whole thing was just horrible. It was a slaughter.
***
*COMMUNAL: We applaud you on your expanding journalistic skills and impactful humor. Exoskeleton crew. Ha! That’s a good one! Some levity in a serious situation is good for the constitution and- Oh, we’re sorry Viz. Viz?
These queens and their memories are depraved. Wait, hold on. Did you hear that? Oh, never mind. Merely a VLF spike and some radio static from a minor solar flare. It sure sounded like bugs crunching on something. Wait, what about that? No, never mind, it’s nothing. Sorry, we’re a little jumpy.
Here’s a good one. A guy named Joe looked unhappy. “What’s wrong Joe?” his friend asked. Joe said, “I feel so guilty after stepping on that bug this morning. You should have seen him. He looked absolutely crushed.”
Hold on just a minute. Where did that come from? How did the Emotive Synergy group bust out of their sector? The Emotional Algorithm Processor really does need to keep those guys in check. That joke was not appropriate in the moment. Viz? We’re sorry Viz.
***
The Earth wasn’t the first world this queen bug had invaded. Her nest was part of a war and subjugation machine that had been advancing through this section of the galaxy for a long time. There was some kind of empire that controlled the bugs. The Empire was expanding and Earth happened to be a target. The people of Earth would be relocated to another planet, or perhaps planets, somewhere within the vast empire.
Other “people” would be settled on Earth. The Empire
