Two forty millimetre auto-cannons, two T-7 gauss guns, and more ammo than any Vorchan could carry without exosuit augmentation.
“They could still be alive.” he had told Nyx, landing by the mouth of the cave where the three Vorchans had been taken, “They need living hosts. They kept you alive, and me.”
He disappeared into the darkness, sweeping out with the exosuit’s infra-red sensors. They knew him, he knew them. “And don’t even think of coming with me, this time. They need female DNA. We still have a chance. None of the other villages had reported any Ethologes.”
“Faaaawkes.” hissed the Ethologes of the cave, just out of sight. It sent a chill down his spine, and made Flames focus all his active sensors on the caverns, hoping to highlight one of the creatures.
The caverns were black, and wet, and he didn’t particularly like the idea of going deeper, but he knew he was leaving an inertial trail behind him, one that he could follow back whenever he wanted to leave.
An hour passed, and still no contact, save for that earlier courtesy call. It didn’t matter, he didn’t need to fight the Ethologes himself, he just had to find the three Vorchans and then blast the cave from orbit. It was a decent tactic, and had worked for most of the infestation. But then how had these ones managed to evade detection? Even now, Flames’ sensors picked up no trace of Ethologe. But his instincts told him they were here, and they had called his name earlier.
Two hours now, and he had reached a dead-end. He was as deep in the caves as possible, but had ignored a lot of alternate paths. He would have to check them systematically. They were out there, in the distance, tracking him. But they knew there was no threat, not yet. Not until he found the Vorchans. That was what all this ammunition was for.
Three hours in. The walls were starting to get to him, and Flames was being annoyingly silent. He had to poke at him every once in a while with his mind the make sure the Descendent was still paying attention and not off chasing Violet or flirting with Macaria (which was very inappropriate). Though then he remembered that Flames and Macaria had at one point bonded… what a promiscuous ship.
It was for navigational purposes!
Right, right.
Four hours in. It would be getting dark soon, and Fawkes was getting tired. He had responded to the call as quickly as possible, but it had still been late in the afternoon. He wasn’t sure how long the Vorchans would survive down here, or how long the Ethologes would even keep them alive. But he wouldn’t lose his citizens to these creatures.
Five hours. He had reached what appeared to be the last junction he hadn’t investigated. If there was anything, it would be at the end of one of these trails. He could feel the Ethologes getting closer now too, their taunting hisses more apparent. Was that why this planet had been so abandoned? Were all abandoned outer rim planets homes to these strange creatures?
A crevice, no wider than a meter, that led down into a chamber. This was what he was looking for, their precious chambers down below. Impossible to break into were it not for mass firepower. He poked his head in carefully, making sure no Ethologe would pounce on him as he did. Seeing the route was clear, he dove into the darkness… the walls were close here, and it was difficult to keep his wings from hitting them as he fell downwards into the chamber, flaring just before he would have smashed into the ground.
Here they were, thousands of them, watching him, hissing.
Found them.
No response from Flames, but Fawkes had expected that. He would have to take care of the Vorchan-Ethologes himself, and then fire off a rescue beacon when he finished. But first things first, he had to identify the three actual Vorchans.
“Which of you are the actual Vorchans?” Fawkes called.
Well that didn’t work. He flew on, scanning the Vorchan-Ethologes as they snarled at him. They wouldn’t attack until he did. Which was an okay tactic, did he not have a ship up above that would exterminate all of them anyways.
There were several Vorchan-Ethologes by an entrance off in the distance. He flew there, ignoring the angered hisses from the creatures as he entered.
Eggs. Ethologe eggs. He’d never actually seen the eggs before. They looked very Vorchan, but that was probably because they were mimicking Vorchan bodies at the moment.
“Faaawkes…” hissed an Ethologe, but this one sounded different. He recognized the voice.
“Nyx? A Nyx-Ethologe?” Fawkes asked in surprise, seeing her coiled around a stalactite up above. “How did you live this long in that body?”
“Queeen…” she crooned.
“You’re the Queen?” Fawkes asked, “Well then.” he lined up the gauss guns.
That look, Nyx’s look of despair, of surrender. She closed her eyes, preparing for that inevitable mortal lash.
“Where are the Vorchans?” Fawkes asked.
Nyx-Ethologe beckoned at another opening to her right.
“Spaaare usss.”
“Why?” Fawkes asked, surprised that one was actually pleading for mercy. Most of them were just interested in stealing your genetic data and killing you after the data expired.
“Peace…” The Nyx-Ethologe offered.
“But you’re old, and falling apart. When you die, how do I know the other Ethologes will listen?” Fawkes asked.
“My will is their will.” she whispered.
“And how can you communicate? The others never spoke to me, all they ever wanted to do was kill me.”
“Drones.”
“The other Ethologes were drones?” Fawkes asked.
Nyx-Ethologe nodded.
“Are you like… a hive mentality?”
She nodded again, smiling.
“What of other Queens, are there others?” Fawkes asked.
Another nod. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not. He had never seen a Queen before.
“Are they all capable of communicating like you?” he asked.
Nod.
“Are you in allegiance with them?”
Nod.
“Are you actually understanding what I am saying.”
“I understand your words.”
“Good. Okay. Well – if you’re sapient creatures… capable of reasoning. Then I…” then that meant all those Ethologes he had killed, hundreds of thousands, “Did I ever kill a Queen?”
“Yes…” she said despairingly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you offer peace before? We felt threatened by you – your species! Why kidnap and steal genetic data?”
“Communication.” she said.
“It was hard to learn to speak with us, is that it?”
She growled, Fawkes recognized that as an affirmative growl, one of Nyx’s quirks when neither of them felt like talking. How much of Nyx’s memories did she have?
“I don’t think my people would be that interested in being used by you.” he said.
Nyx-Ethologe watched in understanding, but was unsure of what to say. Perhaps she was expecting him to say something.
“How did you survive before we came?” Fawkes asked.
“Vulcans.” she replied.
“So the Vulcans were your targets? Did they know that you were using them for procreation?” he asked.
“Seleeeeene knew.” she hissed.
“Who is—“ Right, Joshua had told him about the hitchhiker. A Vulcan Queen. “Where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?!”
“Gone from this world.”
“Why?”
“Martock.”
“What?!” Fawkes hadn’t heard of this before. “When?”
“Cycles past.”
“Does Seleene live?” Fawkes asked.
“Yes.”
“In this world?” Fawkes asked.
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“Gone.”
“Where?”
Nyx-Ethologe didn’t seem too sure how to explain. “Otherworld.”
“Beemspace? The Koveran field? Like… the Koverax? The Symbiote? That world?”
No answer.
“But Seleene lives?”
“Yes.”
Fawkes had to ask, knowing he probably didn’t want the answer, “And Martock?”
“Gone.”
“Alive?”
There was a pause. “Sleeping.”
“In Beemspace?” Fawkes asked.
She didn’t seem to know what that was.
“Can they return to this world?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Possession.”
“Of what?”
“Of you.”
“They’re Symbiotes now?”
Fawkes had wished to forget the word. He hadn’t sensed the Symbiote since he had defeated Martock and the Koverax. The Koverax had been a strange creature that thrived in beemspace, living off the suffering of others. It must have been a… sort of container for the Symbiote’s soul, or one of its souls. Perhaps that was what happened to you when you were touched by Koverans, you ended up in beemspace, living off the life energy of others in some strange limbo.
Nyx-Ethologe didn’t know what Symbiote was. He wished she could communicate better. He had to understand how it worked. If they were in any danger, or if they would stay there. He had to learn which questions to ask.
“Will Martock return?” he asked.
“Sleeping.”
“But when he wakes, will he come back?”
No answer.
“So you don’t know?” Fawkes asked. “What about Seleene?”
“Alive.”
“Is she happy in that world?” he asked.
“Her world.”
“What do you mean?”
“Offspring of the Otherworld.” she explained.
“I see.”
“Like her.” she said.
“Who?”
“Red.” Nyx-Ethologe said.
“Anyone else?” Fawkes asked.
“No more Queens.”
“What of the Vorchan Empire Queen? Rin’tsu?”
“Gone.”
“What? My mother’s gone?? Is she alive?”
“No.”
“In the otherworld?”
“No. Gone from the Worlds.”
“Worlds? Which Worlds?”
“Thisworld and the Otherworld.”
“So she’s dead?”
No response.
“Not existent? Like… those Queens I killed. Dead? Gone forever?”
“Gone forever…” Nyx-Ethologe moaned.
“Thank you for this information.” Fawkes said.
“Peeace.”
“Granted.” he growled.
–
–