Volzhkerix Vigenettes

For random short stories about your client, your NPC nations, and the world they reside within in order to help build context, characters, setting, etc.

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Kyoki Chudoku
Level 4.2
Level 4.2
Posts: 23
Joined: Fri Mar 22, 2019 10:29 pm
NS Nation (Prefix): Conflicting Clusters of
Nexus Client: Tariat
Client Tech Level: I3
Client Leader: Ilzkat
Client Councillor: Ro
Client Species: Volzhkerix
Location: Australia

Volzhkerix Vigenettes

Post by Kyoki Chudoku » Tue Mar 26, 2019 11:12 am

Supercommunity of Tariat
Eastern Labour Community
Siruzhdra’s Cluster
Izhdra’s Clade, Primary Compound

Moryzhdra was always terrified of the Taken hatchery complex. She knew it wasn’t right to be, of course. For all her life, her mother had drilled that into her, and she had obeyed the clade’s dynast. But the fear was innate. It gnawed at her precisely because it wasn’t right, because it wasn’t natural. They deserved it. They were tyrantborn, and they deserved the lives they were granted. They were lucky to live at all. But it mortified her nonetheless. Closing all eighteen eyes, Moryzhdra stepped inside the hatchery entrance, her nematocysts flaring from involuntary trembling.

A pair of eunuchs followed her inside, following the trail of control pherohormones she was emitting. The everchildren were young, one barely crossly the line from nymph to eunuch. So young were they, in fact, that it was difficult to tell them apart from the developing Taken nymphs from dorm alone. But Moryzhdra’s spawn shared her purple pigmentation, their chemical identifiers unmistakable. There was an additional difference, of course- her everchildren were not branded. The Taken nymphs were numerous, kept in separate chambers to avoid overwhelming their caretakers. At this stage of their lives, a princess’s CPh was enough to keep them in line. The main complex was kept fortified from the sky, demanding artificial lighting- Volzhkerix eyes, whilst powerful and numerous, were not perfectly designed for a nocturnal situation. The artificial lights were also necessary for the Taken, as there was a chance their own sight would grow dim if they were kept in perpetual darkness.

Moryhdra’s everchildren stepped into the room. Their minds were pitiful compared to other castes, but Moryzhdra cared for them as any mother would. M’Kara and M’Dra were almost identical, the latter being slightly taller, slightly more mature. Eunuchs operated based on instinct more than thought, and had long since adjusted to the nurturing routine which left Moryzhdra empty. Twice in a row she had partially suppressed her kin, all due to the rules of her mother. No chosenborn until fertilisation, she had demanded, and as the clade’s dynasty, Izhdra’s opinion was official policy for all within the compound. Moryzhdra was young for a princess, still mastering control over her own pherohormone emissions, but all the same, she desired more than everchildren as her spawn. But she would not be permitted fertilisation, not until things grew more prosperous for the clade. Rearing taken until their second polyptation was a risky business, and the entire dynasty was suffering for it, but when the right opportunities arrived, they would be revered. So, at least, Izhdra had said.

The everchildren inspected the chambers. It was two on three, of course, but none of the nymphs resisted thanks to Moryhdra’s presence. The CPh she poured into her surroundings made them submit on instinct. It was so much easier to deal with nymphs and eunuchs than with adults. Young ones obeyed with question. Medusae could argue. They sensed Moryzhdra’s fear, the feeling other which she could quite name. Discontent? Was that it? They wouldn’t understand it. Perpetually doused in mind-altering chemicals, neither everchildren nor chosenborn could comprehend such feelings. No, this was not the time for complaint. Discontent could wait. There was a duty to perform. The princess gave each room a cursory glance, searching for signs her childen could have missed. From one room, the pair eunuchs dragged a polyp. At last, a polyptation. Placing it before the princess, the everchildrn remained silent, staring, awaiting orders. The princess extended her chemoreceptors, sensing the levels of suppression pherohormone surrounding the chrysalis. A worker, most likely.

“Carry it to the worker cage.”

As the eunuchs complied, Moryhdra pondered. It. To call the polyp an “it” was to make it nothing more than property. Izhdra’s clade did not make use of willbearers, nor did it employ many of the very Taken it produced. No, no. Not time to think. It was time to act. Time to check on the next part of the hatchery complex. In the dark of night, Morzyhdra imagined horror stories taking place in the building. A killer in the slaughterhouse. A captive breaking loose. A massacre of nymphs. It scared her, though it was not real. Was she defective, to feel such things? When her children returned to her, Moryzhdra ushered them into the next room, connecting by a corridor which itself was protected by iron-mesh gates.

After striding through the hallway, Moryzhdra arrived in the planula nursery. None of the squirming planulae required particular attention. Unlike the nymphs, planulae could be kept in a single cage, forming a combined mass that had no chance of escape or conflict. On the other side of the chamber, a trio of first polyps were placed, one of which was soon to hatch into a nymph. With no other pressing matters to attend to, Moryzhdra simply ordered her children to restock the food supply, dumping planula mush into the small basins left inside their cage. Next was the part she dreaded, the part she despised, the part at times made her wish to frenzy for reasons she could not quite understand.

One corridor later, Moryzhdra was face to face with a tyrant. Seven of them were present within the premises, though the most promising was given its own reclusive confines- tyrant slavers were too dangerous to keep in the standard cages. Three cells lined each side of the room, a pathway on each side and the middle. Within each cell was a ponderous mass of gel-tissue and nematocysts, fed just enough to keep them engorged. Every tendril was restrained, every emitter separated and isolated by an elaborate labyrinth of ceiling ornaments. Another hole in the ceiling was left to expose the oviductor, allowing drones to more easily input their genetic material. The massive nematocyst injector of each queen had been amputated, the organ being too dangerous to keep when it was unnecessary for reproduction. The rear of each cell contained a small, circular hole, within which was ensnared the egg-layer. Even their mouths were blocked by this arrangement, smothered into concrete blocks which obstructed any speech.

Moryzhdra brought down the vice. “Open the flap,” she ordered, M’Dra rushing to obey her progenitor. This was the most painful part. Why did it hurt her? She was free. She was not a tyrant, nor tyrantborn. But it hurt her all the same. Her delicate fingers pushed the vice forward, her legs tensing up as she readied her next order. “Open its mouth.” M’Kara complied, her immature, three-pronged handsforcing the eight mouth-plates of the captive queen apart. The vice was shoved into the egg factory’s mouth, metal protrusions keeping each plate separate. Within the centre of the vice, Moryzhdra placed a hollow cylinder, and though the feeding tube, the everchildren dumped the sludge to be consumed by the captives. The queen could do little, her mouth and emitters unable to communicate. All that escaped her was a gasp before the sludge flooded her throat. When the feeding was complete, Moryzhdra retracted the vice, closing the flap before the queen could attempt a chomp. Before she could push the concrete block back inside, the queen let out a single statement, pain evident in her words.


Moryzhdra slammed the flap shut, and moved on to the next queen. Each time, she forced food down their throats. When each feeding was done, she turned her attention to the other side of her captive animals. Not a single queen had payed an egg tonight- unfortunate. The last one hadn’t layed in so long that Izhdra was tempted to cull her for infertility- no, not her, it. It. It was a tyrant. It was a thing that belonged to the dynasty. It was an egg factory, producing Taken children to be used by those deserving. Her nightly check was complete. The hard part was over. She would act as sentry for a time, then at last gain some rest. Moryzhdra and her offspring exited the compound, beginning their journey towards the subterranean residence in which they gained their sleep.

But her absence from the Taken complex did not alleviate her fear.
Volzhkerix | Supercommunity of Tariat | The eusocial jellyfish-bugs stuck in an industrial-tech cold war

Eriaroon | Eriaroon Eugenic Republic | The abyssal cephalopods who believe that reality is the afterlife

Vordekai | Vordekai Continuum | The withering organ-harvesters who seek perfection

Hekkathi | The symbiotic misotheistic pacifists at the end of a rogue world’s lifespan

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