I Am The Swarm

“Until you meet him, you can never comprehend his greatness!” Reggie’s words, spoken with deep emotion, drew him into a moment of reflection.

Years ago, after he had ordered his crew to cease resistance and open all hatches on the Cat’s Ear Spaceship, the flying soft-bodied organisms swarmed onto the bridge, encircling them.

Thankfully, the creatures did nothing beyond forming a perimeter, making no hostile moves.

Reggie’s decision had involved a gamble.

Until that moment, all they had were hypotheses. If their assumptions were wrong—if these beings were merely clever animals lacking true intelligence—then his decision to disarm and open the ship was tantamount to suicide.

Fortunately, his gamble paid off.

“What are they doing?” Lute, the ship’s chief scientific advisor, whispered beside him.

“No idea,” Reggie replied, shaking his head. The creatures had surrounded them without attacking or attempting to communicate, leaving the situation in an awkward stalemate.

“We can’t just stand here like fools. Do something!” Lute urged.

Reggie wanted to retort that they were at the mercy of the creatures, but as the captain of the Cat’s Ear and the highest-ranking officer of the expedition, he had to take charge.

Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and began to speak, adopting a formal tone.

“Greetings. We are the Riken, hailing from the Riken star system. Our people are peace-loving and strong, and we come here in friendship. We apologize for intruding and seek to engage in meaningful dialogue. We had no prior knowledge of this territory being occupied. We hope for mutual understanding and exchange…”

He went on at length, expressing contrition for the perceived trespass while subtly asserting their own strength and hinting that their people wouldn’t tolerate mistreatment.

The creatures, however, offered no reaction.

Undeterred, Reggie repeated his speech, incorporating Riken idioms and colloquialisms in an attempt to bridge the gap. As a multilingual Riken elite, he prided himself on his linguistic skills—but these efforts proved futile. It seemed the languages of Riken held no place in the galaxy’s wider tapestry.

Parched and frustrated, Reggie retreated and muttered to Lute, “It’s no use. We can’t communicate verbally. Can you figure out a way to engage biologically?”

Lute studied the creatures’ forms, then glanced at his own. The vastly different anatomies made even gestures and body language challenging.

Unexpectedly, Major Camis—the Cat’s Ear’s highest-ranking military officer—spoke up. “Stop wasting your breath. They’re waiting for someone.”

His words stunned the group. At first, the creatures’ behavior had baffled him as well, but when he considered it from another perspective, everything clicked.

This was a scene straight out of a prisoner-of-war scenario: low-ranking soldiers apprehending captives and waiting for their superior to arrive.

Once Camis pointed it out, Reggie and Lute quickly saw the logic in his observation.

Of course! These beings lacked the authority or capability to initiate dialogue. They were likely awaiting a higher-ranking entity.

Realizing this, the group abandoned any hope of communicating with the creatures and settled into uneasy silence.

Time passed slowly. The oppressive atmosphere felt like a death sentence looming over them, and the Riken crew struggled to maintain composure as fear gnawed at their resolve.

Suddenly, the soft-bodied creatures floating around them parted, creating a clear path.

“They’re here!” the Riken crew thought collectively, steeling themselves for the arrival of their captors’ leader.

Footsteps echoed in the distance.

Footsteps?

Reggie glanced at the floating creatures in confusion.

How could there be footsteps?

What was going on?

He turned to Lute, who mirrored his bafflement. They exchanged uneasy glances, their mutual understanding unspoken yet clear.

Before they could discuss further, the newcomers appeared.

A group of five humanoid figures emerged, surrounded by the soft-bodied creatures. At the forefront was a female, her presence commanding attention.

Standing roughly 1.7 meters tall, her body was covered in fine, purplish-red scales, with intricately designed keratinous armor at her joints. The armor seemed functional yet elegant, suggesting significant defensive capability.

“Is this their version of a spacesuit?” Reggie mused silently, intrigued by its design.

Behind the lead female were four others—one female and three males. The secondary female bore a similar appearance, while the males were bulkier and more rugged.

Their scales were darker, almost black, and noticeably larger. Their keratinous armor featured jagged spikes at the joints and shoulders, while sharp horns jutted from their helmets, lending them an intimidating appearance.

“Savages,” was Reggie’s first impression.

But as they drew closer, he realized something shocking—their “armor” wasn’t armor at all.

It was part of their bodies.

“What kind of creatures are these?”

Although not a biologist, Reggie knew enough about evolutionary biology to find this puzzling. Intelligent species that relied heavily on tools and technology typically lost such defensive or offensive physical traits over time.

Yet these beings, despite their apparent intelligence and advanced technology, retained distinctly primal features.

He recalled their earlier speculation that these creatures belonged to a biological civilization. Even so, their appearance defied expectations.

Had Sarah Kerrigan overheard his thoughts, she might have found them amusing. The Swarm Overlord had personally designed this “diplomatic attire,” insisting it reflect the Swarm’s terrifying essence.

Though Sarah appreciated its aesthetic, she suspected the Overlord’s penchant for theatrics played a role in the design.

Sarah, though new to diplomatic negotiations with alien captives, carried herself with the poise of someone who had ruled a species for decades. Her presence in this form exuded an even greater aura of authority.

Reggie immediately recognized her as a seasoned leader. Her graceful movements and commanding demeanor betrayed a lifetime of leadership, the kind that couldn’t be faked or cultivated overnight. Even her elegance seemed like music—intangible, yet undeniably distinct.

“A noble? Perhaps even royalty?” Reggie speculated.

Concluding she was a significant figure, Reggie adjusted his approach. With humility, he reiterated his earlier speech, hoping to make a positive impression.

Unfortunately, the language barrier persisted, and his opening remarks achieved little progress.

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