Bad Timing

Zarknahk is in mid-probe when the Mothership calls – he can tell by the multi-tone, long-distance ring. She always does this at the worst times.

“Hewoh my widdle Zarkey,” booms her voice, like the buzzing of a trillion locusts.

“Hello, Mother.”

“So what, you can’t pick up a tachyon transmitter and call your overlord?”

“Listen, Mom, I’m sort of in the middle-”

“…I understand.”

There is a terrible silence.

“It’s just one of the other Hive Queens tells me her offspring all call her every day.”

“Mom, I doubt trillions of warri-”

“That’s what she said, Zarkey, I’m just telling you.”


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