They call us the Diamond Fleet, and our symbiotes make us great. You've got yours- I can tell. That little voice at the back of your brain, niggling away. I'm not telling you anything about how it works; don't expect any handholding from me.
Recruits. Ugh.
I'll tell you about who you're replacing, though. Now there was a fleet pilot! We called her the Sparkling Diamond, but her real name was Satine. She could steer a ship through the Asteriod Belt blindfolded- she was that good.
Of course, her symbiote did most of the work.
She had the Maharaja, and I was as surprised as anything. Did they try you out on it? Really? You? Hmph. Glad I was on the other side of that airlock.
Nasty little thing, isn't it. Like a fireball snipping at the corners of your thoughts.
When they brought in a street girl from Orbital Paris, I was as surprised as anything. She was beautiful, even then. Hair like Mars, comet-ice eyes… and the Maharaja always likes the pretty ones. It kept her safe, in its own way. Once, it steered her ship into the middle of an enemy passenger fleet- passenger fleet, mind you- took over her brain, and blasted its way out. Killed everyone, even the kids. Of course, Satine acted all nonchalant, but you could hear her crying in the corridors when she thought no one was listening, the Maharaja telling her to shut the hell up- "Silence, despicable child."
Things went on like that for months, years. Until Satine got herself in over her pretty little head.
She crashed on Montmorvia. And, well… you know what happens to beautiful girls on Montmorvia. They made her a sex slave. Chained her to a bed. One horny Mordovian man after another, all day long.
Of course she could have escaped, idiot. But the Maharaja wouldn't let her. It wanted to break her, to turn her into a more obedient host.
The hell it did! Haven't you ever heard the saying "You can't scratch a diamond?" It's practically our motto- that and "Don't have sex with anything if you can't figure out what species it is."
But… it came pretty damn close.
