Chapter 23: And the Green Hell Beckons With Open Arms
It had been three weeks since our departure from the comforting orbit of what I now called home. We left on the back of a void swimmer, its vast flesh shimmering with psionic turbulence, and rendezvoused with something even more ludicrous in scale — a hive ship so massive it made continents look like quaint suggestions. A retinue of smaller vessels followed in its wake, like remora to a cosmic leviathan.
I stood with my forehead near a pane of translucent ship-tissue, an organic window that pulsated gently with each breath of the ship. Through it, I gazed at the kaleidoscopic fracture of space itself — not merely light, but emotion, intent, and thought bleeding color as psionic energies refracted across the interstitial nothingness. This — this was my peace. My favorite fucked-up little hobby: watching the fabric of the universe distort like it was having an existential breakdown.
Naturally, Kimchi couldn't let me enjoy anything in peace.
She appeared behind me like a stealth fungus, arms snaking around me, resting her chin beside mine as she stared out too. "Kimchi remembers when you were just a baby-mate-spawn," she murmured fondly, her voice silk and old wounds. "You would stare into the psionic fractures the whole way back from your lost little world. They brought you calm while you trembled at the cusp of fate."
I smirked, turning just enough to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Yeah, calm is one word for it. I was abducted by an alien collective with more teeth than morality. I had no clue whether I'd be dissected, digested, or double-hugged."
We slipped into our usual pattern — banter as a combat sport. Sharp words, affectionate sarcasm, and the occasional grope disguised as a back-pat. Eventually, I veered into the reason for her approach.
"So, Kimchi, besides the delightful training sessions and emotionally aggressive cuddling, I've basically been left to my own devices since boarding. What's up?"
Kimchi shifted, her posture tightening just a little. "Kimchi received word — the target planet still retains an operational fleet. When we exit the psionic branch, you must already be armored and ready. Precaution."
My brow furrowed. "Didn't you say this branch was supposed to drop us behind their front lines? Shouldn't that mean less resistance?"
She tilted her head in that insectile way of hers, realization dawning. "Ah. There was... perhaps an oversight in the nuance of your briefing. While we are indeed behind the main offensive, our branches extend in all directions. The prey perceive our arrival as omnidirectional — every vector, every angle, every planet feels encircled."
She gestured out toward the war-torn horizon that waited beyond the psionic fog. "So they defend. Even the planets farthest from our primary arc receive reinforcement. Fear makes them irrational."
Fair enough. It made tactical sense, and it explained why everyone aboard was buzzing with tension. I peeled myself away from the view and made my way to the armoury, where my battle armor — a walking cathedral of living chitin and arcane engineering — waited. The halls pulsed with bio-forms moving with singular purpose, yet parted around me as if I exuded some invisible royalty. Which, in a deeply unsettling way, I guess I did.
I reached the shrine-like resting pod of my armor. Kiya, in its dormant sheath, was already in my hand as I stepped backward into the gaping mouth of the suit. The flesh closed around me with a wet hiss and whispered my vitals into my ears. Crystal's voice murmured at the edge of perception, threading itself through the onboard systems.
Then I noticed Kimchi giving me that look.
"What?" I asked, suspicion already rising.
Kimchi paused, guilty as a priest caught with blood on the altar. "It's just… Kimchi feels envy. You're so deep inside another bio-form. Kimchi wishes you could enter her just as deeply."
"Phrasing!" I snapped, brandishing Kiya like a scolding pointer. "You've got a mind and internal organs, Kimchi. If I went inside you like this, it'd be vore. And I am not into vore. Don't ruin the fuckin' power suit for me. Ever."
She looked genuinely apologetic, mandibles drooping. She'd been trying to keep a leash on her more... enthusiastically biological desires. I reached out and stroked her head gently.
"Don't sulk, bug-bride. You've been scolded. All is forgiven. Now c'mon, take me to Crystal — she's probably got a strategic spreadsheet somewhere with my name on it."
Her glow returned immediately. A hand slid into mine, and we walked — two silhouettes against an ocean of flesh and nerve endings.
After ten minutes, we arrived at the ship's neural sanctum — the literal brain of this continental monstrosity. There, Crystal stood like a goddess in communion, the psionic tentacles from her back plugged directly into the neural cluster. The entire chamber thrummed with thought-noise, vibrations and pheromonal murmurs like a thousand whispered secrets.
She turned toward me, eyes glowing behind her semi-opaque faceplate.
"My beloved," she said, voice echoing through the chamber's living walls. "You arrived just in time. We are minutes away from breaching the psionic branch into realspace."
I gave her a look of amused pity. "You've barely looked at me since we got aboard. Starting to think the invasion meant more to you than me."
She tilted her head. "Forgive me — it has been millennia since I felt the thrill of war with full cognition. My other body manages the mundane. This one… this one drinks in the ecstasy of strategy."
I chuckled. "You've been getting high on your own supply."
Before the conversation could spiral further, a subtle jolt passed through the ship — not a lurch, more like the exhale of a god. Crystal flooded my visor with a live feed from one of the auxiliary swarm vessels.
We'd exited the branch.
The planet was massive — nearly Saturn-sized by my Earth-born reckoning. Its surface glistened green like a polished emerald. Jungles upon jungles, an orgy of biomass.
"Another jungle world," I deadpanned. "Fucking shocker."
The Ker'mins had a fetish for terraforming. Their homeworld was a hyper swamp-jungle — so every colony got the same treatment. They built cities above the canopy, rarely touched the ground. Yet the entire planet had to be greenified before they could squat on it.
"Not gonna lie," I said aloud, "this is probably an all-you-can-eat buffet for the hive. You don't just get tasty screaming meatbags — you get the whole fucking ecosystem thrown in."
Crystal frowned in the way only a psionic death-goddess could. "We do not love the biomass," she corrected with something bordering on disapproval. "We love you."
I sighed. "It's just a human phrase, Crystal. It doesn't mean our love. It's more like... 'hey, this is neat' love. Not 'I'd burn a planet for you' love."
Kimchi, bless her needy little heart, cut in before Crystal could get any deeper into the semantics. "The Queen knows what you mean, Irvine-heart. But the word is... tainted for us. There is no nuance. When we say love, it is only for you. Fully. Terminally. Devotion so dense it warps causality."
The emotional pressure in the room spiked like a dropped nuke. The psychic feedback was bleeding through the guard buffer — I felt it in my bones, a searing, manic need that clawed at the edges of sanity.
Luckily for me, external artillery fire interrupted the impending emotional sexplosion. The Ker'mins had begun their bombardment. Crystal snapped back into war mode, her mental energy locking onto tactical readouts.
Kimchi still looked like she wanted to crawl inside me. Literally. Figuratively. Telepathically.
I sighed again and stroked her antennae. "When we get back, okay? You can monologue about insertion techniques all you want. But for now, take me to the drop ship."
She nodded, dazed and dreamy, barely noticing the wet trail she left behind her as we walked together.
Except… it wasn't a ship.
I was being sent down inside a living invasion nest — a drop pod made of bone and nerve that birthed new warriors on impact. Waiting for me was my personal honor guard: the one Crystal had grown just for me, still in torpor.
Two freethinkers — sisters of Kimchi's previous body — lingered nearby. A psionic agitator thrummed with latent menace beside them. Hundreds of elite caste warriors ringed the nest.
The only one not present… was already here.
"So," a whisper came, sliding in like a knife. "You did remember me after all."
The stalker variant shimmered into view inches from my visor.
"Tell me, future lover," she purred. "I can taste the electricity of your anticipation. The others see war. But you... you see a crucible. This planet will be where you kill for the first time."
She leaned closer.
"Are you ready?"