I was monitoring the situation on the planet, watching through sensors Laia had left on the surface as we drifted into a higher orbit. I invited everyone to the virtual bridge to observe the visitors.

  Stewie was the first to speak, fidgeting slightly in his chair. “Why haven’t we left yet?”

  “They haven’t approached the ship,” I explained, keeping my tone steady. “They’re acting like an automatic defence system just a bit aggressive, but uncoordinated. No real strategy. Just brute reaction.”

  He frowned. “So... we’re just waiting?”

  I nodded. “Think about what happens when someone trips a security system.”

  He paused. Then his eyes widened a little. “Someone comes to check on it.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “And that’s who I’m waiting for. Not these drones. Not the defence mechanism. Whoever set it up. I want to talk to them.”

  But that wasn’t the only reason I’d gathered the crew here.

  Laia had collected some valuable data while dismantling several of the drones mid-combat. Being an AI gave her perfect recall of every angle, every motion, every moment locked in memory. Now, we stood before a rotating holographic display of one of the attackers. Magnified, dissected, and frozen in time.

  They resembled Earth insects in structure, but not in detail. Their bodies had segmented armor, twitch-reactive limbs, and the familiar multi-lens compound eyes but that was where the similarities ended.

  Laia highlighted the internal components as she spoke, her avatar calm but focused. “Their neurology is decentralized. Each section of the body has its own ganglion, think a miniature brain allowing for a faster localised response. Most of it makes sense from a combat standpoint.”

  The image shifted, one limb fading to transparency to show internal structures. “But these two components here,” she continued, zooming in on a smaller organ and a larger, misplaced ganglion near the thoracic core, “are different. I believe this may be how they navigate the slipstream. It seems to be a slipstream organ”

  That got everyone’s attention.

  She let the model rotate slowly, highlighting nerve clusters and energy distribution lines. “But I can’t see anything that would generate the power required to enter or exit slipstream space. Not even rudimentary containment structures. No charge cycling. No phase field stabilisation organs. Nothing.”

  Then she turned to the group. “I was hoping you could take a look. Maybe a human perspective will notice something I haven’t.”

  Kel stared at the display for a long moment, arms folded. “Everything looks wrong to me,” he said at last, voice dry. “But I’ve got no idea what an insectoid race is supposed to look like.”

  It earned a few tired smiles, but no answers.

  We were dealing with something that mimicked inorganic functions but organically. Something built, or bred, for precision. Something that could travel the slipstream without visible power sources, and that responded to intrusion without hesitation.

  And somewhere, behind all of that, was the intelligence we were waiting for.

  The structure of the drones suggested something unexpected. If these creatures could navigate the slipstream without any internal energy source, then something else had to be opening the door for them. Another caste, perhaps. A subspecies designed not to fight, but to guide. Maybe both. Maybe a creepy mind bug that sucks out people’s brains, ahh Starship Trooper was a classic. I was letting my mind wander so had to come back on task.

  That meant there was a hierarchy. Purpose. Planning.

  And that made it imperative I spoke to a leader.

  Up until now, I hadn’t even considered that their creators or some remnant of their civilization might still be alive. The ruins had felt ancient. The drones I had considered to be an automated response. But now... the possibility of sentient survivors was becoming very real. And with it, the very real chance that first contact wouldn’t be as amiable as I’d hoped.

  I had already started taking precautions. Shields at partial charge. Slipstream vector plotted. Defensive systems calibrated, but passive. I didn’t want a fight. But I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared either.

  Then, the sky opened again.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  A new slipstream window appeared larger and more stable than any of the fractured ones before it. The distortion shimmered above the surface of the planet, warping the air around it. A moment later, something stepped through.

  It was massive. Insectoid, like the others, but easily as large as I was in full deployment. Its body glinted with layered plates that flexed as it moved, and as it unfolded its shell, a fresh swarm spilled out—smaller insects flying in precise, coordinated formations. No randomness this time. No chaos. Just eerie, practised symmetry.

  There was no sign of technology. No visible drives, no comms, and no metal armor plating. They looked organic. Entirely so.

  “Laia,” I said. “Switch to high-spectrum analysis.”

  She complied instantly, and the feed shifted.

  The screen lit up with ribbons of energy coiling around the new arrival, lines of power flowing from the slipstream rift and into the creature. It was harvesting directly. No tech. No conduit. Just... biological conversion. Slipstream energy as a nutrient. Or fuel.

  I stared for a moment, uncertain.

  If they could do that naturally, what else were they capable of?

  I didn’t know how communication was going to happen. We had no shared protocol, no translation key. But if the scientists had collected writing, if they’d catalogued glyphs or recorded language, then there had to be a way.

  They had communicated once.

  So they could again.

  I sent out a broad-spectrum message on every known or frequency, every basic communication channel. Light pulses, magnetic bursts, low-band audio, encoded pulses across the EM spectrum.

  Just enough to say: We’re here.

  Now all I could do was wait...

  …and hope that someone answered.

  The response came in a piercing screech at high frequency, layered, fast. Not sound meant for human ears. But I captured it, parsed it, and was surprised to find… I could understand it.

  Not just meaning, but structure. Grammar. It was familiar in a way that didn’t make sense.

  I remember I filed that away when I first awakened but it seems I had some kind of embedded translation matrix, obliviously something NeuroGenesis had installed. Or maybe they had encountered this species before.

  Regardless, the message was clear.

  Desecrators. Trespassers of the Mother’s blood. You are not of the living flame. You are not welcome. Leave, or be purged.

  It was almost comical, except it was going to pain in the backside.

  They’d gone full circle. High-tech species evolving beyond the need for technology… only to fall back into religious zealotry. Worshiping the slipstream itself. The "Mother’s blood." If my translation matrix was to be believed.

  Wonderful. Just Bloody Wonderful, dealing with Zealots was my favourite pastime.

  This was going to be difficult.

  But luckly, it wasn’t going to be my job. I get to hand off this hot potato.

  I summoned Kel to the bridge.

  When he arrived, he glanced at the shifting image of the massive insectoid leader, wings tucked but bristling with latent energy. “So. We are negotiating?”

  “I’ll translate,” I said. “They’re zealots. Religious type. You’re speaking to a high priest or equivalent. I think”

  Kel blinked. “Great,” he muttered. “Wonder if I can flirt with a bug.”

  Lynn, who was next to him, sighed. “Not every negotiation involves flirting, Kel.”

  “Only the fun ones,” he said, flashing her a grin.

  I brought the channel live, routing the audio through a smoother frequency to spare everyone’s hearing.

  Kel stood straight and spoke calmly, hands behind his back. “This is Ambassador Kel of the Lazarus. We apologise if we’ve offended you. Our intent is peaceful.”

  The insectoid’s voice came through immediately, sharp and resonant, even after filtering. I translated aloud.

  "There is no peace with the unbreathing. You wear the stolen shell of the divine and bleed through sacred paths. Your vessel is a sin, and your minds are wrong."

  Kel raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a start.” He said off comms before reopening the line.

  “We’re explorers,” he tried again. “Curious, not conquerors. We respect the sovereignty of your world and would like to understand what happened here.”

  "Understanding is not for you. You were not born of the flame. You broke the flame. Left unchecked, you poison the blood with your hollow machines. Leave, or we cleanse the wound."

  Lynn frowned. “That escalated fast.”

  “They believe only organics are allowed to use the slipstream,” I explained. “They see us as pollution.” I hoped I was deciphering their messages correctly.

  The display showed growing movement behind the speaker with drones assembling into formations, wings flickering with combat-ready energy. More were arriving through the rift, each one armored, armed, and silent.

  I opened a private channel to Kel.

  “Keep them talking.”

  He didn’t respond with words, just a subtle shift in stance. Buying time.

  Meanwhile, Laia had already slipped out of the docking bay, unseen, using the last of the rift’s turbulence to mask her departure. Her signal was faint, but I could track her as she descended rapidly toward the planet well outside the main swarm’s focus.

  Kel cleared his throat and stepped forward again. “We didn’t come to steal anything. We didn’t even know this system was occupied. We came to study the ruins, and maybe learn from them. That's all.”

  The insectoid leaned forward, massive wings spreading slightly, glowing along the ridges with internal current. I translated it again.

  “Study leads to imitation. Imitation leads to infection. The Mother’s blood must remain pure.”

  Then came the final statement leaving no ambiguity.

  “Leave now, or die with your vessel. You have one cycle to decide.”

  The comm cut abruptly.

  Silence returned to the bridge.

  Kel exhaled slowly. “Well. That could’ve gone better.”

  Lynn sat down. “Cycle?”

  “No idea, but don’t think it long” I answered.

  Laia’s voice chimed in softly over the private channel. “Almost in position. Give me a little bit of time.”

  Kel glanced back at the dead screen. “You planning on talking to them again?”

  “No,” I said. “We just need some more detailed scans of them and the tunnel network and then I think we will have completed our objective”

  We backed away from the planet but still used some harvester drones to keep their eyes on us. All the while scans and data were pouring in from Laia’s clone.