1.

“The war has raged on for decades. We have taken heavy losses. All off-planet colonies have been destroyed. A species wide population of billions has been reduced to mere dozens. Our enemy is implacable, unrelenting. It cannot be reasoned with, cannot be bartered with. Peace, despite all our efforts, is impossible. We have a way to end this, a way to win in such a way that the enemy will never threaten any other race. The mission will be dangerous. Odds of survival are ludicrously small. We are the last. The small remaining band of fighters. Even if we win, the remaining individuals are not enough to save our species. Those of us who are left have voluntarily taken implants, geopbyte capacity adamantyne solid state drives, imprinted with the entire cultural and technological output of our species, from earliest recorded history until now, stored dna samples of every species, past and present, with enough genetic diversity to repopulate our planet and our colony worlds. Every language, every work of art, every idea, from the clay beads and carvings to the latest holo-novel, everything. Each drive also contains a recording of each individual’s mind, in the hopes that something, anything, will survive this last desperate battle for survival. It is our collective hope that these implants will be found by some intelligent race sometime in the future. We know now that we are not alone in the universe. That knowledge has become bittersweet. We had such high hopes.” - excerpt from The Last Voice of the Dead Planet

 The discovery was incredible, the sensational news spread through the Empire like wildfire, inflaming the imaginations of the drones and the royalty alike. Life! And intelligent life at that! Or, at least the indications of it. For hundreds of years the Empire had spread through the galaxy, colonizing Star after star, our planetary engineers working hard to make each planet habitable to us. 

 Throughout The Great Expansion, we had held out hopes that we would encounter life, orbiting some star out there in the infinite blackness of space. Our own stellar system was devoid of life, with the sole exception of our own homeworld, but the collective joy we felt as we colonized our first extrastellar planet was immense, for we had found complex life, not very dissimilar from our own. And yet, no intelligence anywhere. Every queen held the secret hope that one day, we would find a sister species, an intelligent race with which to carry out that most sacred and revered of rites, discourse.
 The Empress at the time of the First Diaspora, Whose Reign Was Long And Glorious, had decreed the procedures for first contact, should it ever occur, and each proceeding Empress had agreed to the wisdom it entailed. Above all, there was to be no hostile action taken towards any sentient life form.
 The Caste of Scientists had been directed to make a priority of all translating technologies, such that any conceivable means of communication would be recognized, and it was with supreme excitement that every spaceship captain turned on her scanners as she plotted a course towards each new star. After years of training and education, it was now my turn.
 I was born to the Supreme Empress, Long May She Reign, her twelfth Daughter. Each of my sisters had been trained as a ships captain, and led a successful colonization, becoming a Planetary Queen. My upbringing was different from the average birth, instead of being given to a Mother Drone, I was raised directly by The Mother, the Empress, as all Daughters and Sons are. Whereas the Drones were, for the most part, born with the knowledge they needed to fulfill their life purposes, we Daughters were not. Being future Queens, our brains were more developed, we had the Spark of Individuality within us.
 For twenty years, Mother taught me Herself. I learned much, military tactics, engineering, colony management, diplomacy, stellar navigation, and a smattering of the sciences. As a Daughter, however, my main purpose would be leadership and diplomacy. As I reached adulthood, I was finally given a name, an event I still remember with great pride. Names are important, given only to those that survive childhood, a holdover from our earliest beginnings.
 I was awoken that morning, as I had every morning I could remember, by the Husbandry Drone.
 “Exalted Daughter, the new day dawns, you are summoned to attend The Supreme Empress.”
 Stretching my limbs, I emerged from my bower, and happily greeted the drone. “Good morning G137. May the sun warm you. Take me to my mother please.”
 “As it is commanded, so is it done, Exalted Daughter.” Following the drone, I went to eat the firstmeal with the Empress.
 The Empress’ throne chamber was, by far, the largest chamber in the nest, a massive and open space, intricately carved by the best of the Artisan Caste, the finest examples of our culture and art graced its walls and columns. An Artisan would work it’s entire life, refining its skill and craft in the hopes that one day, some small piece of artwork would bear its number in the throne room.
 The chamber was supported by many rows of thick columns, each bearing the uncountable weight of the ceiling, far above our antennae. Towards the far end of the cavern, a wide, raised dais supported the bloated bulk of the Empress. Centuries old, she was the Allmother, even now, she was birthing Drone eggs, constantly attended by Midwives who carried the eggs away to the incubation room.
 The main body of the Empress looked almost ludicrously small compared to the massive, bloated egg sack attached at the end of her abdomen. Her limbs had atrophied, the result of her exalted position. Her wings had not, however, an evolutionary holdover from our earliest history. If need be, she could detach from the egg sack and fly away in order to flee whatever disaster presented itself. Her eyes were large, bright with the spark of intelligence and wisdom. Her regal antennae curled back along her head, constantly twitching, sensing her environment.
 To her left stood The Father, her mate. A stark contrast to The Empress, The Father was massive, vital. He stood proudly on his four thick limbs, his thorax was massive, solid and imposing, and supported his overgrown arms, which he kept neutrally draped on his abdomino-thorax. His abdomen itself was understated, barely larger than a drone’s, but, unique to the True Males of our species, he had a large, wicked stinger at the end. He alone was possessed of venom, a holdover from our past. His head sat flush on the top of his thorax, his massive mandibles hanging on the sides of his face like twin horns, razor sharp and powerful enough to crush a boulder. He, like The Empress, was blessed with wings, but his were truly massive, elaborate and beautiful. His could support his full weight. As a matter of fact, flying was my Fathers particularly favorite pastime.
 Perhaps counterintuitive to his appearance, The Father was the single most intelligent individual in the nest. He spent most of his time teaching the brain caste, the swollen, living computers that processed information and came up with new technology. He looked upon me as I approached the dais, approval and fondness evident in the set of his antennae.
 As I made my way up the steps of the dais, I could see the Empress watching me, her antennae in a neutral position, her limbs and body language giving away nothing of her thoughts or feelings. As I ascended to the top, I lowered myself to the floor in the position of obeisance.
 “Exalted Mother of All, Empress of Homeworld and all stellar colonies, protector and ruler of the Termian Empire, I, your daughter, present myself as ordered.”
 “Arise, Daughter, and be named. For twenty years, you have faithfully served and learned by my instruction. I have nothing left to teach you, and as such, I send you out into the void, to seek what you may. As it was in the earliest days of our storied history, so it is today. May the wisdom of the queens before us, who instead of destroying their daughters, kept them close and passed on our culture and knowledge, guide you in your Flight. I name you Sojourner, for you will travel to places we have never before mapped, catalogue stars with no names, and travel skies that no Termian has ever seen. Go then, take command of the starship Inquisitive, and seek out that which is unknown. This, I, Immanence, Empress of Homeworld, command you.”
 “I hear, Mother, and obey.” My wings buzzed in excitement. I was to be given command of the most advanced ship in the fleet, I was to explore the unknown. Truly, I could have hoped for nothing better.
 “Come closer child, so I can send you off.” Her antennae rose, open and inviting, her eyes flashed with affection. I rose and came closer to her, allowing myself to be pulled into her embrace. She twined her antennae around mine, and rested her frail hands on my shoulders. “Be safe out there, child. Discover something truly wonderful.”
 “I will, mother. I’ll make you proud.” We shared our emotions for a few brief moments, then she withdrew.
 “May the Mothers watch over you.”
 “And also you.” With this last exchange, I turned from the face of my mother, and prepared to leave the nest. We would most likely never again meet in person.