Queen of Jarilo

It was a cannibal, it didn't seem to care what it was eating. Its body was swollen with what looked like honey, but Kaz had no idea of what purpose it might serve, or what role it played in the Bug army.

"There's another," Gorza said, gesturing to her right. From behind a charred prefab on the far side of the compound emerged another one of the creatures, this one adorned with a purple shell, struggling along as it searched for more food. It didn't have to go far, the field was littered with bodies, friend and foe alike. Two more Drones followed behind it, were they guarding the ghastly beast?

One of the Drones, adorned with a branching horn and orange armor, broke off and began to sift through a collapsed tent. They were looking for survivors. Bugs didn't take prisoners, or at least that was what she had thought before she had lost Walker. She had to hope that the Bugs didn't prefer their meat fresh.

A sudden loud crack startled her, and she shot back behind the wall, her pack bristling as they shouldered their weapons. The Drone that had been sifting through the debris fell, its head broken open like a ripe melon, fragments of shell spraying as it keeled over. Its comrades raised their plasma pistols, their wrist-mounted energy shields flaring to life, Kaz narrowing her eyes as the glow stung them. Another shot rang out through the compound, killing the second Bug. It must have come from a higher elevation because it went over the shield.

The harvester creature seemed to panic, attempting to lumber away on its stocky legs, but it was slow and cumbersome. The hidden sniper brought it down with a couple of shots, one of them punching through its distended belly, sending a torrent of amber liquid spilling out onto the ground. The smell of it hit Kaz's nose, an oddly sweet odor, like someone had just smashed a jar of honey.

She spied movement in the tower, the barrel of a long rifle protruding from one of the shattered windows. There was a sniper up there.

The two Drones who had been fiddling with the door were now pressed flush against the wall, out of sight of the shooter. They raised their shields, emerging from cover and beginning to harry the control tower with plasma fire. The hot gas splashed against the concrete, scarring it with burn marks, the sniper retreating back inside.

"Attack!" Kaz commanded, leading the charge as she rushed out from behind the barracks. She paused for a moment to aim her rifle, then fired, the copper rings that lined the long barrel glowing orange with heat as they accelerated a tungsten slug. She caught one of the colorful Drones in its side as its attention was focused on the tower, the projectile shattering its exoskeleton and spraying viscera. It screeched, collapsing as its companion swung its shield towards the new threat, the energy barrier quickly overloading and flickering off as the pack concentrated their fire. The second Drone fell, riddled with railgun rounds, and Gorza put a few holes into the ghoul for good measure.

They advanced towards the tower in a tight-knit group, swinging their weapons back and forth to cover every angle. Where one encountered Bugs, there were usually more. They reached the base of the tower, Kaz's pack setting up a defensive perimeter as she pounded on the metal door with her fist.

"Friendlies!"

She waited for a moment, and then heard a click as the electronic lock deactivated, the door sliding to one side with a whoosh. She stepped back as a large, dark shape emerged from within. It was a Borealan, a large male with the orange fur of an Elysian. His long gun was hanging across his chest on a sling, the magnetic coils still glowing from the residual heat.

"Reinforcements? What took you so long?"

"You must be Korza," Kaz said, "Colonel Fischer sent us to find out what happened to you."

Korza waved his hand, gesturing for them to enter the tower.

"Come inside, it's not safe. The gunfire will attract more of them."

The pack filed in one by one, Gorza closing the door behind him as he backed into the stairwell. They climbed the tower and emerged into the control room, the floor was covered in shattered glass, and there was no power. The consoles were dark, and the table in the center of the room was not displaying its holographic map. They were greeted by two more Borealans, shock troopers by the look of them, sporting black UNN body armor. There was a human too, his white uniform and the gold insignia on his breast betraying his rank. He had seen battle, that much was clear by the crimson stains on his sleeves and the bloody bandage that was wrapped around his head, obscuring one eye.

The pack removed their helmets, Kaz shaking out her hair and taking a breath of unfiltered air. She saluted, as did her squad, and the man waved for them to be at ease.

"Glad to see that Fleetcom hasn't forgotten about us," he said, glancing out of a nearby window apprehensively.

"Are you the only survivors? Colonel..." Kaz began.

"Colonel Lopez," the human replied, "and I'm afraid so. The Bugs hit us hard, and they hit us fast. They jammed our comms so that we couldn't call for help and started their attack before our engineers had a chance to restore them."

"The whole valley is being jammed, sir," Kaz clarified. "We were sent on foot to find out why Delta had gone dark. My name is Lance Corporal Kazka, scout sniper division."

"The other bases, are they..?"

"They're fine Colonel. Alpha, Beta, Charlie, and Echo have all reported in. There have been attacks at all of the forward operating bases in the valley, but they were all successfully repelled."

"Good, that's good to hear," the Colonel replied with a sigh of relief. "If it wasn't for Gamma squad here, I'd no doubt be lying down there with the rest of my men. The Bugs threw an army at us, I've never seen so many in one place before. From up in the command tower it looked like the ground had come to life, like a living carpet. We fought hard, but they overwhelmed our defenses, whittled us down to the last man. Gamma squad retreated to the tower, and the remaining Bugs pulled back."

"Priority one is to secure VIPs," Korza added, his baritone voice echoing in the control room.

"Why are you still here?" Kaz asked.

"We didn't know that anyone else was still alive," Colonel Lopez said, leaning on a nearby console to take his weight off what looked like an injured leg. "Communications have been dark since the attack, we decided to hole up here rather than take our chances in the forest. As far as we knew, all of the bases had suffered the same fate as Delta."

"There have been casualties, but the other bases are holding. We need to get you back to Charlie, Colonel."

"That might be a problem," Korza rumbled, Kaz turning her attention towards him. "They've been sending scout teams to the base, this is the third one that we've killed. Eventually, they're going to wise up and figure out that there are survivors here if they haven't already, and then they'll send a larger force to investigate. If they catch us in the forest, we're done for, but we have a defensible position here that we can hold."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Send two of your fastest men back to Charlie, have them contact the Thermopylae and have Fleetcom send us a dropship for extraction."

Kaz nodded, it was as good a plan as any.

"Agreed, it shouldn't take more than a day to get back to Charlie, and the forest was clear on the way over here. I'll stay with some of my men and reinforce you, it sounds like you're going to need it. Colonel?"

The Borealans looked to their human commander for approval, and he nodded his head.

"Authorized. One more thing, have the Thermopylae send a team to secure Delta and recover the bodies. I won't have any more fallen Marines made into meals by those...things."

"Yes, sir."

What was left of Gamma squad returned to their positions by the windows, while Kaz picked her two most able scouts and sent them back down the stairwell. Sending just two of them was a risk, but if the entire pack went back to Charlie, then there might not be anything to rescue by the time they reported in. Borealans were evolved from ambush predators, they could be quiet when they needed to be, the scouts would be fine. The rest of her team took up positions by the shattered windows, resting their rifles across the consoles and getting settled in for sentry duty.

Something caught Korza's eye, and the large male walked across the circular room, tugging one of her scouts to his feet by his rucksack. The scout's ears flattened in submission as Korza examined the anti-material rifle that was slung across his back.

"Very nice, this might come in handy. Do you have the battery?"

Kaz nodded towards the pack member who was carrying the battery pack, and he knelt to withdraw it from his bag, handing it to Korza.

"Yes, this'll do nicely."

He pulled the rifle from its strap, releasing the scout from his grip and hefting the massive weapon in his arms. He was strong, able to wield the gigantic railgun. Perhaps even strong enough to fire it without needing to use the bipod. He placed the battery pack on a console to his right and flipped open a protective cover on the rifle's receiver, exposing the plugs. He connected the power cables with a mechanical click, then thumbed the power button, the electromagnetic coils whirring to life. He hit the release on the magazine, checking the ammo count through the transparent plastic.

"How many rounds do you have?" he asked.

"Nine," Kaz replied, "two spare mags."

"Enough for four or five Warriors," Korza said.

CHAPTER 15: MONARCH

"Where are we going now?" Walker complained, "are you going to throw me off a cliff to see if I can fly?"

The Drones who were serving as his escort were tightly packed around him as they made their way down a sloping tunnel, winding ever deeper into the darkest recesses of the colony. The further beneath the ground they ventured, the warmer and more humid the air became, until Walker was sweating like he was sitting in a sauna. Fortunately, his fatigues had been returned to him that night after his lengthy and exhausting session with the Pilot, but his shorts had been unsalvageable. The Bugs had no need for clothing, no knowledge of it, and so his pants and jacket had become quite tattered and stained during his stay in the hive. His boots were perhaps the only thing that had endured.

It was odd when he thought about it. The Krell, the Borealans and the Betelgeusians all went barefoot. The invention of shoes, and the subsequent dependence on them, seemed to be a quirk that was entirely unique to humans. Deprive a man of his boots and a simple walk through a forest would leave him injured and bloody.

It was then that Walker smelled it. A trace of a scent that lingered on the air, powerful, somehow regal. The attitude of the Drones suddenly changed, not quite nervous, but certainly exhibiting a kind of quiet excitement that manifested itself as puffs of anticipatory pheromones and an eager clicking of their mandibles.

The scent was not entirely unknown to Walker, he had picked up traces of it back in the Warrior hangar when the Pilot had been communicating with her console. The feelings that it inspired in him were subtle, but they were there. It conveyed authority, status, he would have to keep his wits about him so as not to be unduly influenced.

He had some idea of where they might be headed now, it must finally be time to meet the ruler of this underground kingdom.

They walked for a while longer. As usual, the dirt passages were only distinguishable by their scents, this new smell growing stronger as they neared their destination. Walker began to notice more Bugs milling about in the tunnels, mostly Workers and a few of the lumbering Repletes. They seemed far away from their usual tasks, were they perhaps attendants of some kind?

Once again his brain was doing its best to translate the alien signals from his implanted organ, drawing parallels with memories and familiar themes. The new smell brought to mind images of admirals and generals, kings of old wielding finely embroidered banners and sporting ornate crowns that were inlaid with all manner of precious gemstones. He suddenly felt as if he would soon be brought before some president or admiral, and for a brief moment, he missed his dress blues. It didn't take a genius to understand what his new sense was telling him. He was being brought before the Queen.

The dirt tunnel began to widen, Workers scurrying out of the way of Walker and his party of Drones as they marched on, their colorful shells glinting under the moss lighting that clung to the ceiling. There were more cameras here, their round, black lenses tracking him as he passed by them. The eyes of the Queen no doubt, she must have been watching his every move since he had arrived.

What was her game? Why go through all of this trouble? Did they want to induct him into the hive, perhaps attempt to glean UNN secrets from him through what they considered to be kindness? The two races had been at war for decades, maybe they were growing tired of the conflict, and this was their way of seeking an alternate means of overcoming their enemy? As the old saying goes, it's easier to catch flies with honey than with vinegar.

The passage eventually widened into a large chamber, domed, but with a lower ceiling than those of the factory or the hangar. There were guards here, Drones armed with plasma pistols and shield projectors, along with dozens of short Workers. Repletes seemed to be coming and going. Some were full of nutritious fluid, their gait hunched and ponderous, while others walked upright with their pouches drained of honey. They were clearly delivering food to the Queen and her entourage.

Security seemed much tighter here, gelatinous cameras practically lined the walls now, and there were guards posted every few feet.

The party stopped before what appeared to be a sheer wall, about the size of an aircraft hangar's door. Walker knew better, and his assumption was confirmed as one of his escorts stepped forward to interact with a jelly-like mass that clung to the dirt like a limpet. Another organic switch no doubt. There was a rumbling as the wall split in two, a pair of sliding doors parting to the left and right like some kind of alien bank vault. They were thick, fortified. Despite his incarceration, Walker retained his military mind, seeing things through the eyes of a soldier. He imagined that if a UNN strike force made it this far, getting through these heavy doors would be nigh impossible, at least without carting down equipment that would be extremely difficult to transport through these tunnels.

They stepped through the opening, the doors quickly closing behind them, and Walker's mouth hung agape at the sight that lay before him.

Hanging from the ceiling like some kind of grotesque chandelier was a massive, fleshy sack, its pink surface glistening with moisture and shifting as if it was alive. It was suspended perhaps a foot off the floor by an armored cable that disappeared into the dirt roof, covered in jointed armor plates and no doubt packed with muscle. He recognized it as Bug carapace, a shade of iridescent blue, the hues shifting under the dull glow of the bioluminescent lights. It almost looked like a tail.

The great mass turned, twisting on its organic rope, coming to face him.

It was a Betelgeusian of impressive size, she would have been twelve feet or more if she had been standing on her long legs. Instead, she sat upon the fleshy pouch, as if it were some kind of living throne. Her upper arms were as long as a Pilot was tall, the second pair of lesser size as they rested on the fleshy folds of her organic seat. Her legs were long, with thick joints and round thighs packed with muscle that would support what must be considerable weight. It was as if someone had taken a Drone and blown it up to enormous proportions, the carapace of the torso and chest retaining its recognizable configuration.

The largest difference occurred above the shoulders. The Queen's neck was long and near as thick as her torso in order to support an imposing headdress, so large that several humans could have sat upon it and used her skull as a damned rowboat. It was flared into a rough triangle, with her face at the nearest point, the tips of which tapered into rounded antlers. Extending from her forehead was the most elaborate and ornate horn that Walker has seen thus far. It must have been three feet tall, with beautiful, branching prongs that had an almost fractal quality about them.

She had the round, blue eyes that were common amongst her kind, large and expressive. They were ringed by purple discoloration, almost like she was wearing a mask, the same coloring visible on her modest mandibles and between the joints of her armored carapace.

Extending from her back was a large apparatus that anchored her to the fleshy pouch, the pulsing meat vanishing beneath the hard exoskeleton like an armored rib cage. The stout cable was attached to it, clearly a part of her massive body. It looked as if the mass had been grafted to her back.

The fleshy throne was obviously a giant egg sack, a large ovipositor visible beneath her, its muscular opening clamped shut for the time being. The chamber was full of eggs, round, pasty spheres about the size of a soccer ball. The Workers were tending to them, moving them around and stacking them about the walls.

The Queen looked him over with her expressive, blue eyes, her mouthparts twitching gently.

<DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?>

Her pheromones were so powerful. It was like being hit by a wall of force, demanding subservience. He fought against his instincts, getting the feeling that he was committing some grave social faux-pas, but knowing better as he suppressed the unwanted impulses from his grafted organ. Ignore the underlying signals, don't let them influence you. Focus only on her words.

"I do," he stated, the Drones standing nearby with their weapons ready should he attempt to attack their monarch. "Though it won't do you much good, I can't speak your language."

<BUT I CAN UNDERSTAND YOURS.>

He was shocked, taken aback for a moment. She had understood him, how?

<I SEE THAT YOUR BODY CAN ONLY CONVEY EMOTION, AND THAT THE PHEROMONE GLAND WE IMPLANTED WITHIN YOUR BODY CANNOT REPRODUCE MORE COMPLEX SCENTS. AN INCONVENIENCE, BUT NOT UNFORESEEN.>

She was so eloquent compared to the other Bugs, was she just that much smarter than they were, or was she dumbing down her pheromones so that he might understand them better? He had made great strides in deciphering their language over the last few days, perhaps he had advanced to a level where he could make sense of the more subtle and complex scents that she exuded.

"You have me at a disadvantage. You understand my language. How?"

<YOUR VIBRATIONS ARE CONVEYED THROUGH THE AIR, I HAVE STUDIED THEM.>

The radio signals, of course. If she was able to jam them, then she could listen in on them too. Even so, learning enough English to hold a conversation in only a matter of days...it was an impressive feat. She was intelligent, perhaps moreso than he knew. Best to tread carefully.

"I take it you're the Queen of this hive? The mother of these Bugs?"

<I AM WHAT YOU WOULD CALL A QUEEN, YES. I SENSE THAT THIS REVELATION DOES NOT SURPRISE YOU. WHY?>

"We have social insects back on my home planet, you're not unusual. I had theorized that some kind of Queen must exist somewhere within the colony."

<WHAT IS AN INSECT?>

"You're an insect, that's your classification. You have six limbs, an exoskeleton, you breathe through tracheae in your abdomens. I'm a mammal. I have an endoskeleton, warm blood, I have four limbs, and I breathe through a pair of lungs."