A lot of you wonderful readers have asked me for more information about the Bugs, as Rush calls them. I wrote this a while ago, then forgot all about it. It's a bit on the different side, and would very much like your critique and opinions. There's going to be a lot that doesn't really make complete sense, but hopefully it'll make sense enough to follow it, and allow you to draw your own conclusions. I figure that if we're going to be seeing more of them in the future, you may want to know more about them. (for anyone who doesn't understand where this race has come from, read Circles of Hell- basically, Rush was found by a different race, and it was a highly unpleasant experience for him.)

This piece is set through the eyes of the Boss-Bug that gives Rush the creeps. I hope I've touched on enough to satisfy at least some of your curiosity. Any questions, please ask :) and I shall endeavour to answer.

Disclaimer: everything is mine apart from the Universe :)

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The Commander gazed with unfathomable eyes upon the carnage below. This was…unexpected.

Whilst those around him seethed with outrage, he was the study of calm. This was no mere façade, worn for the sake of others; it was genuine. It was not for he to vent his anger as those Lessors beside him did; indeed, he had not achieved his exalted position by being prone to fits of pique or temper- he had watched thousands of more volatile K'rechǽ-v'ren seeking to carve honour and position for themselves rise and fall with dispassionate eyes long accustomed to dignity and control. All things had a place. Hate and rage were for War, and even then only if they served a purpose, only if they had a use. He had never comprehended how most others failed to understand this. He carried within a cool detachment that allowed him to see clearly when others were clouded by emotions, and as such he never faltered, never erred.

Still, in this situation…it was justifiable, though in reality he was actually amused more than he was horrified, primarily for the sheer unbelievable audacity of it; a fact it would probably be best not to show.

A weak specimen of a weak species- he had seen it in the male's mind. It was no exemplar of its people, no testimony to its race. It was no warrior, no soldier, no Mecha-Master, nor Manipulator. There was nothing physically defining or outstanding, no gifts or abilities that made it shine. Even its' sensory systems were bland in comparison. It had been embarrassingly, pathetically normal. At least, to those who did not see things as he did, those who did not understand that there were other things of equal import to strength of arm and armament. No, what made it special was something that they had dismissed, a singularly, astoundingly brilliant mind that had treated their technology like it were a hatchlings' puzzle. A mind that jumped from problem to solution quicker than one would respire. A mind that had intuitively grasped pattern and meaning where others saw nothing. A mind of patience that bided its time, and learned, and planned and understood and caught the nuances and the little unimportant things that when added together equalled…this.

Readings indicated the explosion had originated from within the complex. There were no survivors. With grief he knew that some of their most knowledgeable Masters had perished. It truly was a catastrophe, most immediately for the knowledge, technology and information that had been lost, then for the potential wasted, and the repercussions were still being felt throughout the sub-net- he feared the reverberations of that would be far further reaching, and they had not yet begun to touch the depths of the destruction being wrought. L'laht-sśtrecht'n had been the most advanced facility of its kind, a pinnacle of achievement. Eight Ruling Hive-Queens had lain to sleep since its dedication, and for thousands of cycles it had brought into existence the majority of their most powerful technology; in recent cycles in no small part due to the Originless Interface his predecessors had recovered. Sequestered deep in the Hivelands, its' location unknown to most and guarded by no less than three sworn Strathǽ Contingents, it had been at the forefront of their long War against both the Drae'd'th and the despised T'kra'tka, and had seen several enemy species vanquished. And it was no more.

She had felt the life snuffed out, as She always did when Her offspring perished; an event usually ignored for there was most oft a reason. In War, Strike Drones and other Lessors died. Such was their purpose. This, however, had been unexpected, and Her curiosity had sent him forth. He was Hers to command, and from his post had flown at Her bidding. No response had been forthcoming from the planet via long range communications as his ship approached. The Contingents had been waiting for them when they had dropped out of un-space, caught in confusion and disarray, hatchlings flailing against a backdrop of chaos.

The Strike Leader had knelt before him and assumed responsibility, perhaps correctly or perhaps not. It remained to be seen. He felt Lessors calling for vengeance, demanding payment in M'chra, in blood. The Leader had lain forth his life, a trifling token against what had been begotten here, but the Commander had not accepted, though it was his due, not then and not yet- he would not make a hasty decision, and would not waste one who may yet have use. Besides, there was still time should he chose otherwise. It may even be that this Strike Leader was not at fault, though there would be few who believed such a thing at this time. The…specimen…had been more intelligent than any had expected- truth, even more than he had expected.

The gathering of useful information had been slow, but a clear image had finally emerged; they had been deceived, and destroyed from within. He listened to his kin whisper, speculating, guessing, trying to comprehend the impossible. They did not know as he did. Had no knowledge of the male, the Human, there. It seemed unbelievable that this could happen, but not to him. He had touched the memories harvested, had personally made some sense of them, and although he himself could not have foreseen this, in hindsight, weighed against this devastation, several of those memories now made perfect sense. Weak but strong in a different way, a c'kree'a beetle, freshly woken. It had quailed before their might, true, but had relentlessly fought them, not with obvious and grandiose gestures, but small acts- a refusal, a gesticulation, a word spoken in a derisory tone, or a sentence uttered without permission. Most surprising of all had been the mind that did not break with the body. It had pleaded 'I surrender' and lied, and worked unseen against them, and they in their arrogance had let it. They should have taken more time to understand that mind, the manners and methods of its species. They had assumed. They had thought they knew. There were too many at fault in this, and at the same time none, for they had acted no differently to normal. It had not been expected that this one could be so different to what they knew; in truth, it bore some mental similarities to the T'kra'tka, though physically they could not be more diverse.

He closed his eyes and shifted, contemplating the world that had given rise to such an unusual creature. An equally unusual planet of water and dirt, painted in bland tones of greens and blues, whites and browns that he knew would appear far different to his eyes if seen in person, much like theirs had once been, long before his ancestors were hatched. Before necessity had seen their Hive-Home stripped bare. Their worlds were comparable, though the atmosphere was different, a fact easily remedied. A temperate sphere that nurtured a young race and raised them in undisturbed peace, a peace that allowed them to flourish. It was, he dare say, beautiful. Perfect. And far beyond their reach. He had not told Her of this world, of course, for as yet he had not seen the point. There was understandably much he kept from Her, much She did not need to be troubled by, much She trusted him to resolve with his own judgement. To tell Her would be to raise hopes and dash them instantly, for they could not go there. Yet.

Was the Human dead? Eight revolutions ago he would have said no, it was too craven to sacrifice itself. Bearing witness to this aftermath he was no longer certain. It had surprised them at all turns, left them lagging though they often had not realised it. A mighty achievement it would have been to have destroyed their most heavily guarded outpost and escaped. It was the Commanders' desire that it lived. The creature was fascinating, and he wished for the chance to study it in far greater detail.

He tilted his head, body tensing as distant Speakers within the Home Hive whispered soft commands into his mind, and he nodding, moving instantly to obey. He was summoned.

o0O0o

He moved sedately through the corridors, alone; he had neither guard nor guide. Those he passed genuflected, and he acknowledged them, though his thoughts were elsewhere. Here upon the Hive-Home the over-mind was strongest, for here She dwelt, and the mind voices of his kin were a balm upon him, allowing him a welcome respite from the quiet emptiness of the outer reaches. Light from the tall windows turned the murals upon the walls to liquid, an eternal testimony to gifted hands long since turned to dust. Drawing air deeply into his chest cavity before allowing it to dissipate slowly out through numerous spiracles, he marvelled at the scents of home, the fresh dryness blowing in from the plains carrying faint overtones of dust and the cloying sweetness of carefully cultivated vegetation. Warm air filled him, so different from the stale atmosphere of the ships. Somewhere, voices were raised to the end of the day. A flash of colour caught his attention and he followed the movement of a brightly attired female, a commendable blend of sharp beauty and lean strength. Shimmering colour shivered over her carapace as she moved, turning her to luminous liquid in the setting sun, as resplendent as the brilliant walls behind her. Young, yet with a gait already speaking of authority, she had obviously carved a place for herself here where politics and Games were most viciously played, where winning meant perpetual battle and losing was final. Her obeisance was deep and she had her wish; she was noticed. His gaze did not linger upon her, yet nor did he put her from his mind. A shame he had no time for distractions; She came first, ever and always. Perhaps another time, provided she made no mistake before his return; another fallen contender in the ever viscous struggle for power.

Passing at last the Finarïï Arch he moved on silent feet into the high vaulted inner sanctum, the light fading, and quickly dark-sight took over –how did other races manage with such limited ocular senses?- allowing textures and shades and depth of colour previous hidden to come forth. The journey down was long, a wide spiral stairway that descended into the subterranean levels of the citadel. At the foot of the stairs he chose the central branch, and on a whim reached out to touch the wall as he passed; sensitive fingers read the textures and patterns carved into the stone several Ages before, and he could decipher the markings with his fingers as well as he could with his eyes. at last the passageway ended, an intricately carved arch announcing the entrance to the inner sanctum. Moving deep within where the only light filtered down from vents set at great height in the distant ceiling, where the air was cold even by their standards and alive with a gentle hum, he who bowed to no one knelt before the majesty that was She. Shadows in the room deepened as time passed, and at last She spoke, Her voice the softest sigh.

"Many voices tell me many things, yet the one I would most listen to is silent. Why?"

"I would be in possession of all the facts before I make decisions, Highest. To act in haste is to act unwisely, and to risk jeopardy upon you and your people. This I cannot allow."

Silence again reigned as She contemplated his response. Like the Commander, She never made rash decisions, or spoke in haste, or acted without thought; every word She weighed, every possibility She calculated. Unlike he, however, unto the Hive Queen was granted a sight no other possessed, and She studied the future consequences of Her words and decisions long before giving voice to them. The strength of each Queen was different. Some could foresee a scarce smattering of heartbeats, others could wander several cycles ahead. She was not the strongest in hive-memory, but was noticeably more gifted than most. He took the time to peruse the room; it was largely unchanged as ever it was. Great bolts of cloth hung down from high rafters hiding the walls and forming unseen pathways through the chamber that shifted at Her will. Vivid colour made rich and vibrant by his dark-sight shimmered like oil and swirled in his vision. He knew, hidden behind the fabric, carved into the walls of this sanctum was the history of their race as told by each L'Stressth who witnessed the passing of a Queen. An honour and a burden both, for such was their dedication that upon finishing the murals they would take their own life, for they would never serve any other. The current L'Stressth, second to serve this Queen, stood to her side and behind; watchful and silent, the recorder of history, his place in the conscious over-mind upon his passing was guaranteed- such could not be said for all. Ever alert to Her, he drew his full attention back as She spoke.

"There are others." She knew of the Human; he himself had knelt here and told Her, and he understood the nuance of her statement.

"Yes, Highest; a clutch worth, no more." She studied again the future, and sought his opinion.

"Should they be eradicated?"

"Possibly, Highest." He waited. Beneath him the floor began to shimmer as the light outside finally relinquished its hold and receded.

"Are they a threat?"

The question from any other would have drawn humour from him, but not here, not now.

"No, Highest."

"Will they serve?"

"Perhaps, Highest, but not easily, as we have seen. They are unusually resilient, but may be of use to the Manipulators."

Silence again, and when the soft sigh of her voice broke the stillness, he knew great pleasure.

"He lives."

The Commander shuddered slightly. Her humour touched his thoughts.

"This pleases you."

"Yes, Highest. This creature is…intriguing. Much can be learnt from it, great insight can be gained into their species. No Warrior, nor Master, it holds neither rank nor position of value that the Circle would recognise, yet is strong in mind as many a Speaker, and is undoubtedly intelligent. Worryingly so. It can give us much."

"Clever One. Is their point, however, for so few in number?" She was playing, he knew, leading him. Doubtless she already suspected much, knew much, but wanted to hear his own thoughts on the matter.

"For a clutch worth, not really, though any advantage in battle is a boon. Their species is fairly numerous, however, several billion. If many are like him, quick of mind and fleet of thought, defeating them may prove…difficult." Perhaps. It was the distance that would prove problematic. They were certainly not as many as the K'rechǽ-v'rass, who numbered easily thrice that, even with their careful breeding carried out and regulated as it was by the Queen and Her Daughters alone; but from the Human's mind he had received the distinct impression that they had access to technology more powerful than by rights they should, and were prevalent throughout their own galaxy. Something there had left him…confused, though. A sense of them being the same race as the builders of the Originless Interface but…not? A question he intended to have answered by the mind that had presented the puzzle in the first place.

"You are so certain War is necessary?"

"Their world will serve us far better than they may. Verdant, Highest, bountiful. It would take a great many generations to consume their planet. It is much like ours once was, and little would be required to turn to our benefit."

"I know." He froze, surprised, and Her eyes grew sharp, the weight of Her attention crawling heavily across his mind. "Do not believe I rely solely upon you for information. I have many sources, and see many things. Do not start making mistakes now, my Commander, not when you have proved so great for so long. Such wilful arrogance does not become you. Be warned."

He bowed, well aware that She was being beyond generous in issuing a caution. The Commander took a moment to gather himself, and She spoke again.

"I am in agreement. This world will suit our needs. We require more information, however. There is much that must be considered." She rested back, as far as her colossal abdomen would allow. He felt a thrill of excitement; such vast conquest had not been undertaken in many an Age; the vanquishing of the lesser races in this galaxy would be as a mere skirmish in comparison, the prize among the greatest they had fought for in tens of hundreds of cycles. Though stripped bare generations ago, the image of the ancient Hive World was preserved in perfection by the memory of the over-mind, and as such was as clear as it would be were it a memory of his own making. It was a battle worth pursuing.

"Then it is portentous several dozen are in your Territory, Highest. They may not serve, but they will be of use. I will find them, Great One."

"Take what you can from them and do with them as you will. But that one…bring him here, to me, loyal one, and you shall breed upon me a generation able to traverse the distance between and claim this world in my name. This is my gift to you- a line of my breeding, and yours. Bring him to me, my most loyal, and you shall also be granted a hive of your own, and one of my Daughters to bring forth life in your name."

He shivered with delight. Two honours of the highest calling did She lay upon him. Clanless he was, as every Force Commander before and after had always and would always be. It was necessity, but a loss that weighed heavily, for to be Clanless was to be alone, with neither past nor future, separate and aloof from his race. None may command his attention save She. He was beholden to none save Her, gave allegiance to no one but the Hive Queen. This gift…

"I will not return without the Human, Highest, my Oath," he breathed.

"Leave. You have much to accomplish, Commander." He rose and left, mind already turned to the problem at hand, completely oblivious to his surroundings. He did not consider failure, knew no doubt, never had; such things were for Lessors, not the High Commander of the Hive Forces. He would succeed.

It was only a matter of time.