Laments of The Crucible

[Desven]

My Dearest Lord Han’zkar,

 

I hope this letter finds you well. As you know, crafting the Sinta’Unathi script remains a challenge. Though for ages I have trained within the Aether to master your tongue, the art of calligraphy proves a far more elusive foe. My second thumb, more accustomed to the weight of a battle spear, often stumbles, spilling ink across the parchment like spilled blood.  I have sought to write with a clean hand, but perfection eludes me.  Should you find blots upon the page, I trust you will find them easily removed from your claws.

When I heard your fleet was to be relocated off-planet, I grieved. I yearn for the warmth of your presence. How have I longed for the tone of your voice, each and every day since. Do you recall, my dearest friend, those stolen moments near the water mirror, where our whispers held more truth than any shouted oath of loyalty? Though the stars now separate us, know that my soul seeks yours relentlessly.

While you’ve been away, my Lord, the world I knew has unraveled. The Aether I’ve spoken so much about before now echoes with the clash of virtual arms. My Queen, in a move that shakes the foundations of our history, has declared war upon the High Queen. The whispers of courtiers and strategists swirl around me, yet I confess, the intricacies of this conflict remain a shadowed maze.  All I feel with certainty is a chilling dread, for no victory seems possible in this war of kin. Even here, among my brothers-in-arms, a silence has fallen. Broods eye each other with mistrust and friendships fray beneath unspoken suspicions. Yesterday, a snatch of verse floated across the mess hall. It was a defiant whisper from an unknown brother. It lingers in my mind as a grim echo of our shared unease. With apologies for any clumsy turns of phrase, I offer my translation of this strange, haunting rhyme:

In Xathul’s realm, shadows convene,

Where twisted forms dance, rarely seen,

And minds are unmade,

By horrors displayed,

A warrior’s spirit, warped and keen.

 

My brother, words falter in conveying the discord that now stains our path. Should Queen Zkaii seize victory, my brood faces ruin for this reckless defiance. Banishment from our Hegemon ranks, or worse—the final silence—may await us.  Each day, I strive to mask my dread, for to show fear is to invite ruin. But with you, my dearest Lord, I need not wear such armor.  You, above all others, can discern the true fragrance of my spirit.  Lord Han’zkar, I trust in your understanding.

Whatever may come, know that my loyalty to you remains steadfast. While duty binds me to my Queen, and one heart beats in time with her command, there is a deeper truth: for I have two hearts, and the other belongs to you, my dearest friend. I yearn for the day this bitter strife finds its end, and we may stand side by side once more. Through whatever trials may fall upon us, I take strength from your presence, my unwavering pillar.

 

Yours forever,

Za’Akaix’Sess K’lax

 

[La Villa Strangiato]

To: k.huiszul@tailmail.iz

From: yutaklaxletoyahtzor@tailmail.iz

Dear Lady Huiszul,

As always, I hope this treatise finds you well. You asked for me to opine on the current state of things, and what it feels like to be at the edge of it.

I tell you now; change is wrought. I hear the echoes of the Hive from the words of my mother, and the whispers of my cousins. In the depths of the Aether, I feel the anticipation of shedding blood. Of course we need never shed our real blood again, but you could say that bringing our very souls onto the battlefield brings the stakes far higher than merely spilling saffron.

The anticipation is the only true threat to my integrity. I live in concern for my brothers, who may yet be called to serve one cause or another. I pray that our Hallowed Seeker Leto will understand our truth and the one who has spoken the truth of the matter; that Mother K'lax, blessed be Her name, is dead, and Queen Tupii is her incumbent. Too long, Lady Huiszul, have we stagnated under the idle claw of Queen Zkaii. Too long have we languished in denial. Our Glorious Mother is gone to a world we will never touch– must we act as She? No! We cannot wander in this death spiral around Uuoea-Esa's sands. It is time to act in preparation against the Great Enemy, against the looming threat of Zo'rane hegemony and C'thuric malice. It is time for a Queen who is not afraid to reveal the truth.

I believe, as stalwartly as my dear cousin's horns sit on his crest, that Queen Tupii has taken the Mantle of Mother K'lax. Who else could bring Her oldest warriors back from the brinks of listlessness, inspire them with glorious purpose? It may be that my mind will be changed in time, by the whims of the Keeper of Knowledge, but I hope it does not. I feel hope, Lady, though I know there will be great sacrifices whichever way the sands blow.

As always, I am working well. I have become surprisingly comfortable with this ship. I think you were right about humans; they have their charms.

May Hive K'lax rise with Tupii'rexk'mak as its glory,

Ka'Akaix'Yuta K'lax

[dessysalta]

My Saa, Ko'kun,

I understand it has been some time since I have written you, but I have recently gained the courage to do so. Following strife within my new place of work, our bygones from my life previous, and the stage that has been set by hive K'lax as of late, I have been pushed to reach out to you.

Without first delving into the coarse sands that lie within my mind, I would like to tell you about myself. I am loving my new job. It reminds me of when I was first assigned to your ship within the Hegemony. I am filled with litters of new sounds and smells, a library of experiences and cultures whose origins come from light years away, across the very universe. It is as though I am put into rigorous training with you again, being swept between telling and ordering, learning and struggling to grasp the most foreign of concepts. Would you believe me if I said it has only been around eleven years since I was first birthed? Though, I do long to be by your side again, enforcing the order of both the Hegemon and K'lax. Please do not retire by the time I am ready to return, but if you do, make time to allow me into your home, I beg. I would love to go over this in person. Which leads me to...

A strange feeling, looking upon my hive and feeling a mixture of pity and envy, with turmoil interspersed. Never once did it occur to me that this was possible, let alone that it would happen. I had understood that there was friction between our castes and broods, but it is only a natural affair when not all of us can think the same, with some like the Mi'kuetz allowed to pave their own path entirely, and each Queen bolstering focal points that vary. Even so, my hive has always united under the same conditions and supported one another through what you would call "tike or truth." Now we have bitter scuffles and skirmishes being conducted where lives are being concussed with pain. Wherein this behavior does this speak "alliance"? Did we not fortify our realms and sockets as a means to combat and prevent this? Now we are doing it ourselves.

I await the stance of my Queen, our Mother Vedhra. I wager She has strong opinions on it, especially with General Gist playing such a prominent role. What will She think of Queen Zkaii challenging not only it, but all of Tupii's brood, veterans that would know far better than Her, who denied us? I was able to write Gist once when I was young, if you recall—it is someone I aspire to be. Perhaps in millennia, we will be no different, but I cannot receive guidance from it if it is to perish now, to die a death at the claws of family.

With all of this stress, I know there is still hope. Those Queens that do not hold the name of either Tupii or Zkaii will surely step in, perhaps even our allies in other hives. This is unacceptable behavior that, if allowed to continue, can be a burning of that which we hold dear, memories, emotions, and history spilled in no cohesive way.

I understand this is perhaps a lot to have heard from me after several years of silence. Truly, I am still processing it all, walking the edge between my last life and the next. I am left wondering if there will be a third, and if so, what I will be like then, when this has all concluded. Please, tell me how you have been sometime. 

Honour, fire, burn thy fear,

Zo'saa Za'Akaix'Tonz K'lax

[RustingWithYou]

HIVEWATCH: INTERCEPTED TRANSMISSION

ORIGIN POINT: HANEUNIM, COALITION OF COLONIES

My comrade-in-arms,

It has begun in truth, and the silence of Her absence has finally become untenable. The dead must now fight for the honor of the living - the oldest truth of war, and we have turned it backwards. [AMUSEMENT]

I know that you now fight for the Young Queen, and many of Her brood do the same. I am still positioned with the Phalanx force here. Do you ever wonder, if there is a purpose to this? The Enemy is waiting, and we are only weakening ourselves with this struggle. You and I once breached the walls of Kol'axta together, and tasted the Enemy's fear in our mouths. Do you remember how we came to that place, my friend? Fire and death in the air, as the Zo'rane titans marched onwards to a victory that would leave nothing in its wake.

I am grateful to the Young Queen for what she has done - the preservation of Her brood, and she is right in her belief that the Sleepwalker is unfit to rule. But I do not know if I can bring myself to fight against my own Hive, while the abomination still waits in the depths of space. For the first time in millennia of life, I am unsure of what is to be done. What would She demand of us, were She here? Would She order me to fight once again? Or is it simply a matter of persisting in a world that long since outlived us?

You have not been here, so I will spare asking you your opinion. Should the struggle end, and should the Young Queen prove victorious, I would encourage you to walk this new world, and see it for yourself. Its inhabitants are strange, and it is so different from home that sometimes I wonder if it is but a strange construct of the Interstice. Yet there is a truth to it, I have found, and it is one that I feel you would appreciate. Even if it does mean having to deal with the C'thur [DERISION].

I know that there is a test the Young Queen has, in the heart of her dominion. You have walked it, and been declared as Xol’raii’kl’ox. I am considering doing the same, in the hope that I may see what is left of us in truth - if there is purpose in this new world beyond the struggle we carry. I would ask your advice. To remain here as I am and do nothing in this struggle would be abhorrent weakness - yet I am unsure what I should do. What She would demand of me.

I await your response, now as ever. [HUMOR]

-Za'Akaix'Kiihr K'lax

END TRANSMISSION

[Desven]

My Dearest Lord Han’zkar,

 

A month has nearly turned since my last letter reached you, and the memory of its ink stains my hand even now. Yet, a new dread now overshadows the worries I once confessed.  The whispers of the Xathul Xon, The Crucible, have grown into a deafening roar, and the chilling truth of its nature cuts like a crystal shard through hardened chitin. No longer is it a mere realm, shrouded in secrecy. Rather, it is a desecrated wound in the very fabric of the Aether, a weeping, twisted place that poisons the triumph the Hive Queens vowed to us after the Lii’dramachy.

I have delved into forbidden conversations, my Lord, desperate to grasp the true extent of this horror.  They speak of a place where shadows coalesce into monstrous forms, birthing abominations that writhe against the sacred equations of the universe. Each night, the fragments of these twisted forms linger like a cracked shell haunting my dreams. These are not mere weapons, but manifestations of a hunger that gnaws at the essence of life.  This, they say, is the battleground within The Crucible. It is a perversion of the term, for it tempers only darkness and despair.

Victory, they claim, will be ours. Yet, a gnawing dread coils within me, a serpent refusing to be soothed. The whispers of the courtiers now take on a new, sinister light. Is this truly the path to dominance, or have we unleashed something monstrous?  The very concept of waging war within the Aether, where our souls find solace, feels like a monstrous transgression, a violation of the highest order. It is as though we have pried open a forbidden door, unleashing a darkness that hungers for all existence.

Sleep eludes me, my Lord.  Haunted by the spectral echoes of these twisted beings, I find solace only in the memory of your voice, a beacon in the encroaching storm.  Do you recall those silent nights, my dearest, where the sweetest symphony was the unspoken pulse between us? That beauty seems a distant echo now. Never did I imagine the Aether, once a source of strength, could be transfigured into such a place of torment.  The warriors of old, those who clashed mandible against mandible, would weep to see the path we tread. Their battle-scarred shells, discarded in the desert sands, whisper a warning we have ignored.

There are whispers too, hushed and fearful, a shared terror born of the Queen’s ambition. But such whispers carry a heavy price.  The weight of loyalty sits heavily upon me, a duty that threatens to crush the fragile hope I cling to.  Yet, even in the face of potential ruin, my faith in you remains unshaken. You, with your unwavering spirit and discerning eye, would surely see the folly in this path.

Until we meet again, my dearest friend, may the echoes of honor guide your steps.  Hold fast to the warrior’s spirit within you, for it may be the only light that pierces the encroaching darkness.

 

Yours eternally,

Za’Akaix’Sess K’lax

Edited May 6 by Desven

[RustingWithYou]

To Za'Akaix'Sess, my most beloved friend,

The horrors that you describe have rattled my very soul - they seem as some tale told to scare hatchlings in their beds, but I have learned enough of your people to know that your words are no fiction. If this battleground of yours is a crucible in truth as in name, I dread what miseries it may forge for you and your Hive. I believed that I had come to understand your people, in those days when we walked together, and thought that it would never end. How I long for that simplicity once again, my dearest Sess, of a time when we both were certain in our purpose. I dream of those days as you do, and the beauty of the time we spent and the battles that we waged together. A warrior's life cannot be free of strife, but there is a beautiful simplicity in battle as we knew it - one which is absent from this Chained Waste that your Hive has cast itself into.

I write these words from Ouerea, where the Hegemon has chosen to invite the Skrell to speak. I am believed to be skilled at understanding an alien mind, and so I have been asked my thoughts many a time on this delegation. I have not spoken of your words to those present - I do not know how much the Nralakk Federation or their Hive have learned of your conflict, but I will not be the one to spread such tales. Still, as diplomats and scholars, scientists and admirals, all speak of our nation's future, I cannot help but think of you, my friend. As I sip on wine and stomp with the ghazkii, you are stranded in horrors that I am powerless to aid against. The cybernetics that your kind has developed disturb me, yet were I offered them now I would accept heartily, that I might fly to your side once more. I pray that the Great Spirit watches over you, dearest Sess, and that you might endure this peril and return to me once more.

I do not know why the Hegemon allows this struggle to continue, but I am not one so mighty that I might question his will. I pray that your war may end, and that the agonies of the Crucible are left to fade into memory. I do not think that many among my peers have ever come to understand your people as I have, despite all that you have done for us since that fateful day when you came here. My friend, how it pains me to know of your suffering, and to be powerless to do anything save to wait, and hope that you are victorious! I have made offerings to the Warrior, and prayed that your arm remains strong - but though I know little of this new kind of war that rages in the land of the dead, this I know to be true - that you are a great warrior, with a spirit as strong as any that I have known. Whatever may happen, I can take comfort in the fact that I believe you will know victory in this, as we have known so many victories together.

If there is any service you would have of me, any aid that I may render to you, I beg you demand it of me. For you, my friend, I will move the very stars from their paths, if it should free you from the torments of the Xathul Xon. Your words, even when speaking of such dire things, are a rare joy in this age of uncertainties, and so I shall await your next correspondence with the eagerness of a hunting tul. May the Warrior strengthen your arm, may the Healer mend your pain, and may the Fisher grant your lieges the wisdom to end this conflict. You are forever in my heart, my dearest friend, and I await the day when we will meet again, be it in this life or another.

 

Your obedient servant,

Lord Sarak Han'zkar,
07/05/2466