“They say the Mandi have no language. I disagree. Just look at their art. Entire historical records perserved in stone. And God, it’s terrifying.”
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The Collective was quiet. As a soldier, Blue Eyes was never fully a part of the hive, but he’d always sensed it’s calming presence. Of course, a little personal discomfort was a small price to pay in service to Unity. He and the other 5 soldiers had the glorious task of scouting out the location for a new base. After that, ano- Contact.
Around the ship, Blue eyes felt his brothers and sisters lift their heads. There was no need for them to go to the control room, they had gotten the gist of his message.
Out there was an alien ship. And it was violating Unity’s space.
With a bit of skill and some mandible gnashing, Grey Scales managed to link the ship with what appeared to be a docking port. Four Claws and Broken Face took point. Red Eyes passed out the guns. In perfect unison, they breached into the ship.
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Their initial assumptions proved to be incorrect. Blue Eyes found himself in some sort of small airlock of unknown purpose. Even standing at a meter tall, the mandi found it a tight squeeze. Thankfully, it quickly gave way to a hallway.
As the last of them was crawling into the ship, a bullet whizzed past Grey Scale’s head. An instant later, the creature fell backwards, clutching the new holes in it’s chest. Four Claws finished pulling herself though the airlock.
The soldiers crept further into the ship.
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The rest of the animals fell with an effort too pathetic to call a defence. The five soldiers found themselves alone on a ship full of new biological resources and new tech. Their “orders” had been clear: scout the planet, and set up base. But every mandi soldier knew there was only one order that mattered. They set to work figuring how to get the heap of metal back to Mandabis
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Unitis, Mandi Collective, [870 BBT]
Planetary Insititute of Research and Technology
The planet marched in unity of mind, if not body. It was as if each mandi personally held the fallen heroes, the champions who had sacrificed their lives for the hive. The funeral alone had demanded countless records to be displayed in the hives of countless queens. But those working at PIRT had more pressing issues than a funeral march, for the were marching towards something greater: the future.
The chariot that had brought newly-minted legends to rest was an untapped gold mine. The biological material had already been sent to PIBS for examination and experimentation. PIRT had the rare opportunity to see what made the xeno tech tick. If they were lucky, they’d be able see its production for the glory of all Unity.
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Hostile Space, Xeno Territory [866 BBT]
Outlying communications satellite.
It had been a normal day, which was all in all pretty normal. Not much was happening in space.
These particular station was being decommissioned in a month’s time. After all, what was the point of a communications satellite if there was nothing left to communicate with? All the ships had either left range or gone mysteriously silent.
That’s why the xeno had to do a double take when they saw their monitor. Someone was using their radio frequencies, the same ones sent along with the exploratory vessels. Could it be that some of them had survived? They called their buddy over, all the while thinking about how much attention this station was going to be getting. They could see the headlines now.: “Hold on, are you seeing this”
What, that wasn’t right.
It was their partner, pointing at the screen. How strange, it seemed like the number of signals had continued rising. But… no, that was impossible. The signals far exceeded the vessels sent out in the first place. There simply couldn’t be that many ships. And yet, there they were, all heading back home.
Home… good lord!
A signal was fired from the main dish. Hopefully, it’d be enough.
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The attack came a year later, more of a massacre than civilized warefare. Unity’s new fleet decended upon the outlying colonies like locusts on a field.
Each gain only bolstered their strength.
Each Mandi that fell was replaced by ten more, each ship that fell took enemies with it. It quickly became apparent that the xenos could not win.
And the Mandi could not be reasoned with.
There is little recovered information on the species, most of it being destroyed in the Mandi’s campaign if extermination. The only stories left are of Mandi supremacy, and scaled rugs.
But there’s one tale left to tell
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Unitis, Mandi Collective, [859 BBT]
Planetary Insititute of Research and Technology
There was great clamour in the PIRT. The planetary mining teams had found something big, something that had been hidden from them for years of mining.
It was something developed in the last years of the war, some sort of engine. It was a fleeing thing, a last hope to get away.
It was beautiful. And terrible. There was something about it they just couldn’t understand yet.
But they would learn.
And they would conquer.
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Fin.
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