“The still are remembered; the loud are silenced and erased.”

  - Words from the memoirs of Xal’Naari, Drexari High Command

  The last thing the Drexari warrior remembered was seeing the human unsheathe a large-bladed knife and reach down to deliver the final blow.

  Zhe’d recited the Veltrin litany as required. Had it carried zher into the Forever as promised? Zhe’d always been a silent sceptic but ….

  Instinct held zher still, as slowly consciousness returned.

  The air was filled with a wail, a resonant wave of sound. It buffeted her senses as if testing them, trying to breach them.

  It crashed over zher, surged through her, working its way into zher mind like a worm. The human was attacking her. Trying to tear her apart from the inside, undermine zher very being.

  The sound pulsed through zher body. Her body plates vibrated, her armour shook. It was like a thousand trapped crickets. A tremolo rattle, a clicking that vibrated out of time with zher breathing.

  A chorus of chitin and metal.

  But within the noise, an ancient and familiar sound emerged. Somehow deeper, more real. Wrapped within the serpent’s voice were echoes of clade-rites, those intoned before battle and burial.

  Hints of the Veltrin.

  Memories, uncarved and unborn stirred.

  Vol’Shaar peered through one eye, just a sliver. All eyes wanted to open at once, but zhe resisted.

  Just the one had opened. Years of training realised in that single moment.

  A personal triumph of stillness and control. Little wins.

  Slowly, a picture formed.

  Zhe was sitting up against a rock, on the rock platform where the copter had landed. But there were no bodies to be seen, and the copter was... gone.

  Impossible.

  Zhe wasn’t sure that was possible anymore.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Did she have to reset the boundaries of zher reality when humans were involved?

  Earlier, Feebee had worked quickly, stripping what she could from the copter. She’d shoved the broken remains into the nearby lava lake, surprising herself with newly acquired strength. The copter had hissed and spat as it was devoured, eventually vanishing in a plume of steam. Hissy had spat back.

  The Drexari bodies followed. No evidence left behind.

  Had zhe dreamed it, imagined it?

  No; that would be… impossible.

  Zhe was faced with a contradiction of impossibilities. Logic told her that the human must have killed them all and removed the copter. But those thoughts lead to an impossible question; had it had also saved zher?

  Possible? Critical thinking told zher that nothing else made sense.

  Zhe tried to move. Couldn’t. She was restrained. Tape bound zher waist to the stone, subtle attempts to work it free failed. The tape resisted. Somehow it adapted and tightened on her.

  Imposs… zhe stopped zherself. Zhe must reframe her points of reference.

  “You’re awake.” It was spoken in Drexarian, clear and neutral.

  All eyes snapped open.

  The human walked slowly into view from behind the rock.

  It stopped and stood perfectly still, out of reach; the sun directly behind formed a halo around the human.

  An Instrument of Reckoning was wrapped around it. Glyphs and icon alive, churning across and around its body.

  The heat-lover, silhouetted as it was, evoked ancient, cultural memories which Vol’Shaar’s brain tried vainly to ignore. Memories of the Still, of a Silent Flame came to zher. The sort of memories that Shadow Hands read; that were written and painted across the bones of the dead in the clade’s retreat.

  “You were bleeding out. Cracked body plates.” The human spoke again, in perfect Drexarian. Zhe was not used to communicating out loud but had learnt how when in seminary.

  ‘We fixed your leg. And you’re welcome.’ It was a different voice; this one came directly in zher mind, not via zher outer membranes. ‘Nice to meet you Vol’Shaar. Within the we, I am the QI.’

  Vol’Shaar tried to pull away.

  Zhe moved, there was pain. Zhe could handle that. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from this invader of her mind.

  She tried to reach the Orbital again.

  All hope evaporated in the silence. Zhe was alone.

  How can the human heat-lover speak directly in my mind? They are not of the chosen. Was each human comprised of two beings; separate but joined?

  ‘Your comms are disabled,’ the QI advised. ‘Your people are looking for you, but we are safe… and you are safe.’

  Zhe clicked and grunted, ‘Safe!’ Pain again lanced through her body as she tried to project stillness and control.

  ‘I am an Egg Carrier and decorated chief from an elite war-clade. Responsible for preserving bone-memories. You cannot hold me.’ Zhe cast the message directly at the human.

  ‘Really?’ the QI responded, sceptical.

  ‘Bone-memories? What are they?’ intrigued.

  ‘War is a glorious personal ritual that honours the dead; Bone Carvers record our kills and victories so that memories are sealed in stillness. Shadow Hands protect the sealed memories and share them across generations. But what could heat-lovers know of clade lore.’

  The effort drew on zher reserves, zhe slumped back against the wall.

  ‘Lovely. Well, you’ll have some more memories after this. Carve them carefully.’

  Meanwhile, the human sat across from Vol’Shaar, legs perfectly crossed, fists resting on knees with an Instrument of Reckoning close to hand.

  Zhe studied them both.

  A loosely fitting fabric was covering most of its body. It was disgusting, black, formless with no crests or tribute visible.

  Vol’Shaar was shocked, at its neck was a silver ornament on a chain.

  It looked like… no it couldn’t be.

  Vol’Shaar adjusted zher vision, zooming in.

  It wasn’t an affectation; it was the Void Spiral. Old, worn. How was that possible. Zhe struggled against zher bonds, trying to cover zher forward eyes with two palms and make the sign of Vol.

  Pain shot up zher leg and across zher chest.

  Vol’Shaar passed out.

  It was all too much.