In the depths of Ursa Major a rare event was occurring. Deep within the weave of tunnels, within a small, carved out pocket of ice, a clearstone chrysalis hung. It was formed strangely, though it did not look out of place within the tunnels. An icicle dangling from the ceiling. Her form laid within the center of the chysalis, a grey shape distorted and refracted within the crystals depths. She shifted. A crack sounded, loud as a glacier splitting within the silence of that pocket. Lines carved themselves into the base of the chrysalis, where crystal met cave. Then, they began to grow. Slimy chrysalis fluid begin to drip. Then trickle. Then pour. Then, the bottom gave out in a shower of dust and shards.

She fell as a heavy, foetal lump in the center of it all. Wet. Pulsating. Her sacs deflated. Tentacles wrapped around her head. She shivered. The tentacles slid off her melon. The thing that would be known as Sister lifted her head. Her eyes retracted within her melon in a form of blinking. She took stock of her surroundings. Dark blue. Blurry. She could only make out the ice beneath her. She raised a heavy, odd feeling arm. She twisted the tentacle there, scraping it on the floor in a straight line. She liked the noise it made. She liked that it left a pale line. She wanted to play with it more. But she needed to observe. What else? Cold. Scentless. Wet. She shuddered, wrapping her tentacles tighter. She did not like being cold. Was anyone there? She could not tell. All was blurry. She wanted to find someone. Instinctively, Sister split her head. She let out a series of high pitched clicks, feeling for the way they bounced, feeling for which ones came back sooner.

MOTHER

The Hive's flood would trickle in slowly: a little bit of emotion, a snippet of thought, until--within several minutes--the full link to the hivemind had been established. During that time, a single Praetor who'd been standing watch here would simply observe, and wait, until Mother's voice came to them both.

"You are awake, my child. Good." Unlike with the creatures she converted from simple mammals and the like, Mother made little effort to alter Sister's hormones and the like. Instead there was cool, clear acceptance: an intention for shared goals, for teamwork, for getting to it. "Please. Join me." A click as the Praetor stepped firmly forward: ready, once Sister was prepared, to lead her to the Queen.

@Sister

Her clicks bounced off a dark, blurry shape she'd nearly missed for the walls. It was closer than the walls. How much so, she couldnt tell. What did they want? What did they look like? She sat there. Quiet. Cautious. Afraid. She opened her mouth to pose a simple, "What are you?" but it came out a garbled series of screeches and clicks. She felt strongly that the praetor would get the meaning.

As she waited for it to realize and explain itself, she felt a sensation tickling the back of her mind. It was alien, and yet so familiar. There were whispers. Voices. Thoughts. Feelings. She wanted to learn more. Hear more. Feel more. Sister leaned into it. There was a dull, patient, almost thoughtless presence, and Sister realized that it was the blur before her. She was safe. Sister uncurled her tentacles somewhat, cooing at the realization of safety. It was not long before the connection strengthened enough that she heard Her. She called Sister 'Child'. If she were a child, then... "Mom...?" She must have been.

Whoever this mom was, everything she felt posed sounded appetizing. Teamwork. Shared goals. That sounded like things to do. Though Sister would have been happy carving another set of lines into the ice, she was curious about what this entailed. "Okay. Im coming," she thought into the link. Sister tried to stand, wobbling on her tentacles, then walk towards the Praetor. She fell onto her stomach.

Cautiously, she extended her rear pair of arms forward, and pushed herself forward. She flopped onto her belly, skidding forward. Sister realized she did not like walking. Sister also realized that she did not know how to move. New target then. The praetor. Sister bumbled blindly towards it, and before it took off she wrapped her tentacles around a leg, then crawled onto its back in a form of piggybacking. "I don't know how to walk." Sister thought petulantly. She made a series of garbled, annoyed sounds.

MOTHER

The Praetor was hardly an individual. It could barely be called a being, more than a simple figment of a greater whole, and the response reflected that: the faintest touch along the Hive's link of concepts, rather than a true reply.

I guard. I lead. I obey.

It was indeed dull and nearly thoughtless; beyond this, and a vague sense of alertness (to danger, to Mother's orders) its mind was almost... empty.

There was a pause as Sister failed to locomote. A sense of the Queen, recalculating as she observed through her, and through her Praetor's link.

"Ahh. Like this," came the soothing voice in her mind. And a vision, flickering, of how precisely this drone was meant to move, to maneuver her odd body. A summary; a guide. And with it came an alternative; if Sister found it too difficult, she could latch onto the Praetor, climb onto its back, and it would simply carry her, for now.

@Sister

Mother wanted Sister to try to move. The images she sent felt....complex. What if she fell? "I can try." Sister thought reluctantly. She pulled herself from the Praetor's back, and slid down a leg. She liked its simple thoughts. It was sure of its purpose. It had good weapons. It was made good. Sister thought this as she awkwardly flopped into the tunnel wall. She stared up at it, sending out a series of clicks. Sister pulled hers torso flat against the wall with her front hands, before sending her rear pair forward. She pulled up. It was a very impressive pull up from a creature that floppy.

Right until Sister realized her tentacles were not touching anything. She was off the ground. There was nothing supporting her body but her arms. She was quickly overwhelmed by panic. Sister made a fearful, rattling sound, and her arms shook with fear, which was enough to end what little balance she had. Sister fell with a squeak. Her back and melon ached. She fled back to the Praetor, wrapping herself and every limb she had tightly around a leg. "I do not want to try anymore."

((REAL))

MOTHER

Faint impatience came. She had things to do; she had no time to baby this new creation. Why was it feeling fear? (Ugh.) ...Thankfully, nothing but the faint impatience threaded along the link, though Mother's further words were more matter-of-fact than anything. Not... quite dismissive. But close.

"Your body will need time to strengthen." That was all.

The Praetor, meanwhile, paused as Sister wrapped herself back around it. It was a large beast, but so was Sister, and it reassessed its balance before continuing. Just ahead, the darkness shifted, becoming dim, twinkling light. Two other Praetors stood aside, allowing this one through.

Beyond stood Mother: a massive... grub, for lack of a better word. Fat, webbed from wall to floor to ceiling. Insectoid. White. Her alien eyes studied her newest creation; for a moment, Sister would feel judged.

Mother was gauging whether her design was flawed.

"Closer. Come closer." But the Praetor itself did not move.

Should Sister be a good creation, it would be granted a number, a name, and the link flooded open further to the rest of the Hive, that it may join its 'family.' And if not?

Well. Faulty creations were simply culled.

@Sister

Sister could not help but feel the failure to climb was twofold. The impatience was a condemnation itself. She would have to better herself. "I will improve", she thought, as the Praetor began to move. She stared with wide eyes at everything as she swayed back and forth on the praetor's leg, letting out sonar clicks to asses particularly interesting surfaces or textures. She drunk in every surface, every minute detail, chittering with interest. They stopped before Her.

Sister slipped off of the praetor. The judgement, the way Mother scoured her, it felt heavy on the newborn drone's body. The sheer weight of it instilled a sense of quiet duty. She shut her jaws. She was to approach that vague, lumpy, white shape--Mother. Sister could not fathom what this would mean, though she felt the importance of the moment.

Sister annealed herself, dragging her body with her fore pair of arms up to Mother. She was large, large enough that Sister could not see all her form clearly, even as details came in to view as she curled up before Her head. Sister felt the strong temptation to let loose a series of clicks and asses her form thoroughly, though...she somehow felt that it would be inappropriate at the moment. Sister waited, thrilled.

MOTHER

Would she? Would she improve? The thought was picked up on, and what was broadcast was--after a moment's consideration--simple enough.

"You will have the chance to prove that." So she was being given that much, at the very least.

A series of soft clicks--thoughtful sounds--came from Mother, then. "Very well. Your form seems sufficient, and you will gain control of it in time. Practice," she urged. "You will be known as Drone Zero-One-Six Iterator."

She paused, and then the idea of iterations slid through Sister's mind. Variations on a theme, improved each cycle through which they passed. "I have created you to be a creature of creativity yourself. You will create, as I do; but you will adjust the designs according to the greater needs within these caves. Now, let me brief you..."

She began to speak of the situation in the caves. Of the plague of Chaos, and the pride and joy the Hive took in restoring Order to this place. With every word came images and sounds, the experiences--the memories--of others within the Hive.

And then she came to Sister's role.

"I create Drones. I create Praetors and Cleaners. But I wish for a fresh mind to venture forth where I cannot. Find new ideas. Find new niches for us to fill. Then return here; you will have some creative freedom in adapting what we create. For now, however, your task will be to learn, to see what there is to see, through your own eyes and your siblings'. Do you see?" she asked, mind-to-mind.

Her actual voice was mere rasping clicks, but even without the need to fake companionship and warmth, the voice in Sister's mind was clear and sweet.

@Sister

Sister, now Drone 016: Iterator listened eagerly to Mother speaking. Every drop of knowlege was taken in with the enthusiasm of a parched throat, and ensconced within her brand new mind. The idea of Chaos, of the horrors of disoder felt innately...wrong to Sister. Perhaps that was the way she was programmed. Regardless, it had an effect on her. It made her skin itch. It made her body shudder.

The knowledge that Order was fixing it made her feel better. Slightly. But ...she found a new sensation arising. Curiosity. It was the mixed horror and curiosity a child faces when it sees a horror movie for the first timeShe wanted to know about Chaos, too. Study it. Investigate its designs. And, by Mothers own words, she would. She was to go out into that world, the world infected by Chaos. Take in the many designs. She chittered with excitement.

"I see. I will see. I will see all I can," she thought to Mother. There was a moment of deep thought, in which she tried to parse the idea of the caves, unable to imagine things got much bigger than this. Then, eventually, Sister thought to Mother: "Where should I go first?"

MOTHER

Click. Rasp. Consider.

"A good question. Speak to The Hive." A cluster of images, of Drones and Hosts of the hive who had already wandered--and did wander--the caves. The indication was implied: she could speak to the others in person, or tap into the knowledge of the Hivemind remotely. Whichever she preferred: she was granted this freedom, at least.

"Tell them of your role. See if they might suggest a place. And then: choose your own path, for all of us."

@Sister