A young Lady's Journey to become a Hive-Queen

“Over the years I’ve met a lot of Samurai who had explosive growths. One day they’re some newbie barely even able to kill a model Six, a week later they have enough points to deal with an incursion by themselves. It’s not easy, often they have to deal with some really fucked up shit and I don’t envy them one bit. But they exist. That said, Legion, Myriad, and Bloodhound might have had the most explosive development I’ve seen. It’s outright fucking terrifying what these three can get up to these days. I mean, just look at all the defences they left for the city; that wasn’t even a major project for them. Legion just happened to have the time and construction capabilities idling around. If that doesn’t tell you just how terrifying they are, then I don’t know what will.”

- Bahamut in an interview with ‘Samuraiz’, 2057

“Systems ready check!” Legion’s voice sounded serious, even with the underlying tone of giddiness behind it.

And who could blame her? This was the first expedition that we undertook with her new battle dreadnoughts. It’s crazy how far we’ve come in just nine short months–from greenhorns barely able to kill some Threes to captaining a fleet of four battle dreadnoughts ready to take the fight to Mars and the antithesis setting up there.

I was interrupted in my musings by the voice of my AI companion, Kaysa, coming over the bridge speakers.

“All systems nominal. No readings are out of expected ranges. The ‘N.A.C. Seraphine’s Revenge’ is ready for deployment.”

With a nod, I keyed the intercom; utterly unnecessary but it felt damn fucking cool.

“Legion-4 is all ready, Admiral.”

A moment later, Blitzer’s voice came through, sounding a lot less giddy and a lot more anxious. He did try his best to hide it, though; he wasn’t as far along as a Samurai as we were, but he had a whole host of catalogues available, which made him invaluable.

“Legion-3 here. We can detect no anomalies. All systems nominal.”

“Ditto. All readings report optimal. Legion-2 is ready to deploy. Let’s give it to them good!” Bloodhound sounded a lot more enthusiastic.

After a moment of silence Legion finally spoke, her voice full of authority.

“Imperial Legion, lock in coordinates; prepare for Wyrmspace Drive activation.”

“Roger that, Legion-1.”

“Let’s kick some alien ass!”

I leaned back into the captain's chair, feeling the comfortable material moulding around my form and overlooking the bridge of the ‘N.A.C. Seraphine’s Revenge’. The rest of my swarm, the rest of Us, were busying themselves at the bridge consoles. Technically, the entire ship was overseen by an AI specifically for the job, but we just couldn’t help ourselves learning more and new things.

Not to mention that it felt so much cooler to control it all yourself.

Energy readings started to spike as the ‘N.A.C. Seraphine’s Revenge’ began to spool up its Wyrmspace Drive. Next to us the ‘N.A.C. Lost Citadel’, acting as our Flagship, the ‘N.A.C. Zuri’s Sorrow’, our dedicated troop transport, and the ‘N.A.C. Tressym’s Flight’, who served as defensive swarm carrier for this expedition, also began their preparations for jumping.

The entire ship began to vibrate with the power of the jumpdrive, a sensation that was both awe-inspiring and humbling. In a way, it was slightly terrifying, knowing that this massive vessel could fold time and space around it. They had been insanely expensive to get, and we were lucky we even had the points. Each of them cost upwards of 1.5 million points; a number that no Samurai as ‘fresh’ as us should have available to them.

Then again, we’d been thrown into the deep waters from the day we became Samurai, and things didn’t change after. Legion, Bloodhound, and I had much, much more of an opportunity to earn points than most Samurai ever got; just thinking about the Saint Tybee disaster made my skin crawl. Fighting underwater was a fucking nightmare, and they had let their defenses rot for years while the leadership was lost in political infighting.

In a way, we’d been lucky to pull as many people out of the drink as we had managed. Still, millions had died in that incursion.

With a shake of my head, I focused back on the present and leaned back to immerse myself into the chorus, wanting to feel the true power that was unleashed by the jumpdrive activation. By this point, our Hive had grown to tens of thousands of voices, each of them sensitive to the world around Us by simple virtue of our upgraded senses.

Just as the Wyrmspace Drive was spooling up completely, moments before the jump through time and space, we could feel the very fabric of reality around us vibrate. It was an indescribable feeling, amplified and fed back on itself by the sheer number of bodies that were experiencing it at the same time. Even those of Us left behind in New Savannah to keep an eye on things shuddered as the energy of the jumpdrives washed over Us.

Then the world around us shifted, as time and space itself bent, and with it we left Earth orbit above Central America, leaving for Mars. During this time our communications with the rest of the fleet would be down; not surprising really. We weren’t even part of the same universe anymore, travelling our own path through the Wyrmspace.

Strangely enough, though, our connection to the rest of Us did not break. Kaysa had explained to Us before that we used entirely different methods of communication between drones, but we had this lingering fear that contact might cut off, at least with those back on earth, which would mean their immediate death. One of the many safeguards the protectors had put into place to prevent a second antithesis level threat from emerging.

Concentrating on the feel around Us, the feeling of travelling through Wyrmspace, we tried to understand it better. Our swarm consisted of Hexclaws, we were insanely adaptable, and, if we could figure out the mechanisms by which it worked, we might be able to evolve a few of our drones to use it.

But despite all the training we had gotten over the past few months, Wyrmspace remained a mystery to Us. Kaysa had told Us as much, but we had still hoped that maybe we could glean some insights. No luck; it was far, far above any physics we could make heads or tails of, even if we had some basic understanding of the multiverse theory, dimensional boundaries, and quantum mechanics.

After an eternity that lasted barely even a minute we arrived, space bending around us once more to deposit us back into the real world. Taking a moment, we did a complete systems check, making sure that none of the major systems reported any damage.

“Legion-1 to Legion-2 through 4, status report,” came Legion’s voice over the intercom after communications were re-established.

“Legion-2 here. No damage recorded. All systems nominal. We’re ready to lay down some hurt.” Bloodhound sounded outright excited, which we could understand.

“Legion-3, we have a bit of a problem. We, uh… We emerged on top of a destroyed battleship, some AI controlled combat vessel from the looks of things, and rammed straight through. Can’t find any damage from that, but we got some smaller antithesis nipping at our heels, probably the ones that destroyed the battleship in the first place,” Blitzer reported, sounding a bit panicked.

“Legion-1, permission to send Smiley?” We asked, voice losing all of the excitement we felt.

“Permission granted, Legion-4. How are you holding up?”

Our dreadnoughts were massive; designed to work as our main force of attack in orbit, with significant ground attack capabilities, if you didn’t mind collateral damage. Not that we would, after the Pembroke fiasco. That city had been almost entirely destroyed by Rods from God when someone panicked and sent a couple too many down.

Despite the sheer size of the dreadnoughts the figure that emerged from the front hangar of the ‘N.A.C. Seraphine’s Revenge’ was gargantuan. Easily dwarfing the Legion Corvette that had served as our headquarters and home for months, it began to move fluidly through the emptiness of space.

Where the dreadnoughts were Legion’s magnum opus, Smiley was our own. A heavily upgraded version of the Delta-class Mark XXII Progenitor Wyvern, Smiley was our swarms Champion. At nearly four hundred meters in length, she was powerful enough to shatter even models in the thirties and forties with ease. Opening her massive maw she let out a silent roar that was lost to the emptiness of space.

Typically, the Progenitor Wyvern was not designed for space travel, but, considering how adaptable Hexclaws were, it had been child’s play to upgrade her properly for it, even if it had been fucking expensive.

At the same time, we continued our status report to Legion.

“We’re looking good, Legion-1. No damage reported, all systems combat ready.”

The four ships were only a few thousand kilometers apart, and we paid close attention to Blitzer and the Tressym’s Flight to ensure nothing would sneak up on them.

“Oh hey y’all,” a new voice came over the Intercom, “Glad you could join us. Brought quite some heavy guns, huh? We have our orbital defences, but, from the looks of your tech, you might be the best equipped powered vessels we have. I’m Donkey, in charge of organising the defences. Afraid I’ll have to drop you into trouble immediately. You up for that?”

The voice was feminine, although the person that appeared on the screen with the message made Us look twice for a moment. We’d seen some muscular girls before, but Donkey made even bodybuilders look tiny.

“Hello Donkey,” Legion replied, acting as our spokesperson, “We are ready for whatever you have for us. I’m Legion, with me are Myriad, Bloodhound, and Blitzer. We have one vessel working as our spearhead and flagship, one made for troop transportation, one swarm defender, and one full of fancy weaponry and a swarm of all-devouring aliens ready to show the antithesis how a proper Hive-Mind should behave itself. Just let us know where you need us.”

There was a moment of silence and we smirked at Legion’s words.

“Aha… Okay… Uhm… Do we need to worry?”

We laughed, “Relax, we only eat the bad guys. So, what do you need?”

“Sure… Okay… So we have four Leviathan class antithesis in orbit, and our HQ is currently being fucked with. We got the numbers to defend it, typically, but right now most of our forces are moving to destroy some really messed up Hives. Think you can help with the defence down there?”

We didn’t even have to hear Legion’s reply, simply getting up from our seat and starting to make our way towards the Hangar.

“Myriad can deal with the ground assault until we can send in our troop transport. The Revenge and Citadel can take on those Leviathans possibly, but we need more data on those. Battle dreadnoughts we might be, but even we got limits.”

We continued to listen to them through our virtual realm while we walked.

“Can’t tell you much at the moment, I’m afraid. Scanners are currently overloaded with interference, but from what the others could gather they aren’t that dangerous. Just numerous. Our flotilla isn’t meant for combat, more as a transport to get people here. Unless they get in range of our orbital defence stations, there is little we can do.”

“If all they have is numbers we can deal with them,” Legion said after a moment’s pause, just as we arrived at the elevator that led down to the main Hangar entrance.

Ignoring the conversation between Legion and Donkey for a moment, we gave Bloodhound a quick private call. She picked up almost instantly.

“How long you think you need before you’re ready to get the Sorrow down?” we asked with no preamble, but with a loving smile.

“Not that long, I think. We should have a clean shot at Mars, so we can move fast. Need some help down there?”

“We wouldn’t say no. Killing aliens is so much more fun with friends!”

We both laughed at that, just as we arrived at the main hangar.

“True that,” Bloodhound mused, then was distracted for a moment. “I’ll meet you on the surface love, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“You know we’d never,” we said with an affectionate smile.

Both of us exchanged a quick loving glance before we cut the call, making our way over to Tiny, the Delta-class Mark IX Progenitor Najav that had been part of our swarm ever since our early days. Tiny had gotten her own suite of upgrades over time, with some substantial help from Spark and Teddy. The slightly crude nametag made from a street sign was still dangling beneath her massive maw, giving the giant skorpion a rather hilarious look.

It didn’t take long for Us to load up into our transports. Tiny would form the primary planetary attack force, but with Us were also a number of troop transports filled to the brim with the rest of our swarm; Reavers, our War Battalion, plus thousands of smaller units. They most likely wouldn’t be able to stand up to the antithesis forces we could find on Mars, but they would be able to deal with the smaller models in the twenties.

Just as we were shot out of the hangar using the advanced slingshots that Bloodhound had devised with the help of Blitzer, a call came in, startling Us. It was directed to the entire fleet, though, since my implant was the basis of our communications network, we were the one to see it first.

“Howdy,” we said as we connected, finding a video window with a woman looking at me.

“Hello,” the woman said cheerfully, “We noticed you were going for Mars. Not sure what exactly is going on, but you got some rather nasty xenos flying around. We could do a quick fly by to deal with one or two if you want.”

“If you could do that, that would be helpful. The Revenge and Citadel could potentially deal with some, but if you feel more comfortable I’ll leave that to you,” Legion said, seeming a bit distracted.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be a worry. We don’t wanna stick around too long, but we can help a little. Been a little while since we were home, so we’d love to make it back to Earth sooner rather than later.”

“Been a while?” we asked, unable to help ourselves.

“Not important right now. Maybe we can chat a bit later,” she said, then looked to the side for a moment. “From your position we can take the one nearest Mars L4, if that works for you?”

“Sure,” Legion said with a nod, “We’ll prepare accordingly. Thanks a lot, Miss…?”

“Oh, I’m Helen, though my crew tends to call me Boss. You are?”

“Legion. With me are Myriad, Bloodhound, and Blitzer. Can we call upon you if we need help? Your ship seems rather high tech.”

We could see the readouts of our sensors, but since Helen’s ship was at the edges of our sensor range it was hard to make anything out. Legion was closer, so she probably had a better idea.

“Uh, sure… I guess we can make some time to save the day.”

“Thanks, Helen. We’ll let you know if something changes.”

Legion and Helen talked some more about positioning and whatnot, but we ignored it, since we were just hitting atmospheric entry. The ride became pretty bumpy, even if we were largely immune to the heat. It wouldn’t be as bad as it would be on earth, Mars had a rather light atmosphere compared to earth, but as we had been briefed, it was getting more dense with the antithesis presence.

It did allow us a good picture of Mars, though, and fucking hell was it a mess. The once pristine red-brown landscape was now littered with antithesis Hive growths, some of them fucking huge!

Eventually, we could also see the forward base working as Samurai HQ, surrounded by massive amounts of aliens. Not that it was too surprising, considering what we have been told, but it was still a bit more than we had anticipated.

With the impact of a meteor, we landed, leaving hundreds of xenos dead from the sheer force alone. Not wasting a moment, we got ready, Tiny getting up from the crater and starting to fuck up every last xeno she came across.

Behind us, the rest of our transports left similar impacts, shattering a good amount of antithesis into dust.

Inside of Tiny’s seating area, we got up, our Queen’s Guard following us. Taking a moment, we adapted our body for a non-breathable atmosphere, connecting to our dimensionally shunted internal oxygen reserves.

As one, we climbed down towards Tiny’s maw, which marked the entrance to her seating area, and, in one fluid motion, we threw ourselves into the mayhem.

I had long since gotten my shapeshifting abilities, and before I even hit the ground, I took on the form most suited to fighting antithesis in large numbers; the adapted form of a Hexclaw Hive-Queen. It was far less impressive than what I had seen in a simulation before, but, considering the sheer amount of biomass I had at my disposal, by this point I could manage one bigger than Tiny.

With a silent and surprisingly low-pitched warcry, sound being very odd in this thin atmosphere, we threw ourselves into the fray, blade-like limbs singing through the air, cutting deep into the model twenty three in front of us. With a snarl and a huge bite, we latched ourselves onto the slightly smaller alien and began to shake vigorously, using every last bit of strength to shatter the bones into tiny pieces.

Throwing the lifeless body away, and leaving it to Snuffles and our Feastmasters, we roared again, then dashed forwards once more.

Considering the terrain, we had adopted a form much more similar to a true Hexclaw Hive-Queen, even if much smaller. A giant body of a spider crossed with a praying mantis with dozens of limbs and roughly the size of a large bus was a terrifying sight to behold. Too bad that antithesis didn’t have any intelligence or fear.

Our limbs danced, our blades cut, our maw caught many antithesis, sometimes consuming them whole. Lacerations and blows landed on our hard carapace, but we ignored them for the most part, instead dishing out hurt as best as we could.

With the help of our swarm, we began to clean up one side of the HQ, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Like the fortress breaker she was designed to be, Tiny took charge, most of the smaller models melting under the barrage of Hard-Light weapon systems, kinetic and energy based projectiles, and her massive pincers pulping them to dust, giving Us an easy route to advance.

At the same time, the Samurai still present and defending the HQ noticed our approach, weapon systems shifted, attacks were redirected towards areas with larger antithesis forces. One of them, some weird lanky guy who seemed to be all arms and legs, danced between the xenos, seemingly untouchable. But everything around him seemed to just die, cut into tiny pieces by invisible blades.

It took Us an embarrassingly long time to realise he was using threads as weapons. Probably some monofilament thing that could cut through nearly everything. We made sure to keep away from him, just in case his threads were longer than we anticipated.

Another was one that looked like an honest to god kitchen dishwasher, apron and all. He was throwing plates at the xenos that exploded into various forms of destructive bubbles, while at the same time barbecuing something on a massive grill with an atmospheric bubble. Every once in a while, the other Samurai grabbed one of the foods he was preparing, gulping them down in big bites while inside the atmospheric bubble, before returning to the battle with renewed energy.

The last of the Samurai we could see seemed to be a soccer player of sorts, at least if her clothes were anything to go by. Not that the balls she shot into the mass of xenos were actual soccer balls, they too exploded although in different ways. She seemed to be more focused on large area denial with various forms of crowd control.

“Seems like we got company, eh? Struth, the hell are you?” the BBQ master said over coms, giving Us a glance. He seemed to have some idea we were Samurai, but from his expression he seemed unsure on how to take it.

“The answer to your problems. We thought you could use some help,” we said aloud as one. In the thin Mars atmosphere it sounded even more grotesque and terrifying.

“As long as you kick alien ass and don’t try to make a meal out of us,” the soccer lady said, although she sounded distracted, “Barbie, I think I need some of your explosives over here, they’re all lined up.”

“Aight, no worries. One serving of BBQ snags comin’ right up!” And with that, the cook, stationed on top of the forward station, grabbed a couple of plates with some things we couldn’t identify on them and threw them towards the direction in which the soccer lady was busy freezing xenos to a standstill.

They exploded in magnificent fashion, wiping out huge chunks of the smaller xenos, while leaving the larger ones covered in something acidic, although from this distance we couldn’t make out the exact compound.

Not to be outdone, and slightly curious of what exactly the aliens were covered in, a small part of Us made their way over to the chaos, starting to fend off those trying to get closer to the forward base.

It had a slew of automated defences of course, but the more we could take out ourselves, the more those defences could focus on the bigger threats.

It did mean that we spread ourselves pretty thin, but, considering how quickly we could replenish our forces with Tiny and the Reavers here, it was not too much of an issue. For our full production capabilities, we’d have to wait on the Sorrow and the Revenge, but they’d still take a while and the Revenge still had to tangle with the Leviathans in orbit.

Suddenly another figure appeared next to the cook and his barbeque, clad in all black armor and with a long, almost ridicolous greatsword in one hand. The figure leaned down into the atmospheric bubble and the cook handed them a kebab of some sort. Taking off his mask, the dark figure was revealed to be some insanely young looking man with a face that didn’t fit his towering and oppressive figure at all.

He had the kind of face we wouldn’t let into the brothel even if he could provide Us an ID, with that childlike look of youth.

Without a word, he ate the food handed to him before he replaced his mask, then vanished from the spot without a trace.

Deciding not to ask any questions, we focused back on killing xenos. With our help, the defenders were finally able to push them back, even if it was a slow process. Most of their forces were models in the twenties and thirties, although there was one much larger.

That is a model Forty-Three. They are around the strongest model you can face in this area of Mars. Between you and Tiny, it shouldn’t be too much trouble taking it down.

“Forty-Three!” reported the soccer lady at the same time.

“Leave it to Us. The swarm hungers and this would make a fitting meal.”

Our comment did not inspire our new friends with confidence, but nobody said anything. Probably because they were too busy killing off xenos, definitely not because we sounded like an evil swarm devouring children for fun.

Chuckling to ourselves, we turned and dashed for the huge antithesis. It was larger than Us, a massive four legged thing that was preparing to bulldoze its way through to the forward base.

We didn’t let it, Tiny moving faster than anything her size should be able to move, pushing her pincers together and jamming them into the ground just about as the massive xeno hit her. We kind of imagined the sound of a loud gong as the model clashed with Tiny, but none such sound appeared much to our disappointment.

Tiny remained steadfast, only being pushed back slightly. In the moment it took the Forty-Three to recover we jumped on its back, two dozen bladed limbs piercing its skin to various degrees. It was one tough motherfucker, but it had its weakpoints and, considering the sheer amount of weapons at our disposal, we quickly found them.

At the same time Tiny raised her pincers, locking the forelimbs of the Forty-Three in place. She was damn fucking powerful, but even her pincers took their time to slowly crush the aliens limbs. It did mean that all the xeno could do was thrash, and thrash it did. Without our blades buried deep into its tough hide we probably would have been thrown off, but as it was all the xeno accomplished was to cut itself open on our limbs.

Letting go of one front leg, Tiny took the massive throat of the beast into her pincer, moving in tandem with Us burying two blades into two of its eyes and deep into its skull. The thrashing continued, but it became weaker and weaker, until Tiny’s pincer finally closed with a snap, the last resistance of the Forty-Three’s throat overcome, almost beheading the creature.

Letting out a triumphant roar, we jumped down, then turned our attention to the rest of the xenos still trying to break through the defences.

It took some doing and Bloodhound was nearly ready to send more troops, but we did finally manage to fight off the massive antithesis force trying to overrun the HQ. The fighting never truly stopped, of course, but at least it became easier to deal with them and by this point some of our forces and the automated defences were sufficient to deal with most of the xenos throwing themselves at us.

The cook, Spatula Queen, or Barbie for short, led the soccer lady, Striker, as well as the thread user, String, and that greatsword guy called Gus, back inside, inviting Us in as well. Of course only I and my Queen’s Guard actually follow them, the rest of Us would continue to defend the HQ and get rid of all the biomass.

To that end, I reverted back to my Kitsune form. Not only would my combat form be too big, but I also much preferred the smaller body for casual interaction. And it made them all a little more comfortable around Us, which was a bonus.

The interior was utilitarian, although there were some comforts around in the form of comfortable seating areas. Other than that it was very obviously designed for function, not form. Not that it bothered Us, we could deal with either.

Barbie led us all to a table, where we all took a seat, apart from the Queen’s Guard who remained standing at the door, and Barbie himself, who busied himself with the kitchen.

“Aight, so the bloody bigshots finally send some backup, eh? Damn time, the xenos are relentless.” Barbie sounded a bit… We weren’t sure where to place it actually. Relief maybe, but with annoyance mixed in somewhere.

“As long as it means we can actually take a break once in a while,” Striker groaned, leaning back and stretching, making Us very aware how good she looked in that well-trained athlete way.

“Aye, might mean we can finally move on some of those Hives,” String muttered quietly, watching the group intently.

Bloodhound sent Us a ping that she was about to arrive and one of our Queen’s Guard made her way over to open the door for her.

“We wouldn’t mind some friendly xeno bashing. Not sure if we can take on the big ones, though. We got numbers, but Smiley is still in orbit and we don’t have the high-powered destructive capabilities without the dreadnoughts. Bloodhound could probably help you, though, she got big bombs.”

“Hold up, who is Smiley, who is Bloodhound, and why do you talk weird?” Striker asked, looking at Us a bit odd.

We smiled timidly, with an undercurrent of danger in it. “Well, we are Myriad, as we said, but we don’t think you understand what that means. We are Myriad. We are one. We are a Hive and a chorus,” the last part was said with all available bodies in the room, “Smiley is one of Us; a huge fuck-off dragon some four hundred odd meters long. And Bloodhound? Well, this is Bloodhound.”

Since we shared information, we knew exactly when the Assassin who had gone to grab Bloodhound arrived at the room, timing our delivery perfectly with her entering and looking around.

Her sleek black armor belied the myriad (pun intended) weapons on her, her entire figure cut sleek and dangerous. Her helmet, designed to mimic a ferocious wolf in shape, almost glared at the others with her red glowing eye slits.

Then Bloodhound gave them a cutesy wave, entirely unfitting to her ferocious appearance. “Heya all. I’m Bloodhound. Heard you need a really, really big bomb?”