P'Thok carefully unwrapped himself from the clutching confines of his ceramic dropshell, moving his limbs carefully so as not to crack the shell or damage any of the precious equipment that might have survived the perilous drop into the heart of the enemy's homeworld. He would need the maps, the recorders, and the Confederate cash sticks that had been collected from dead Terrans off the battlefield. He would need the counterfeited equipment of a Manti tourist, and some of the special equipment hidden in the harness he would need to wear would allow him to emulate a Manti to any and all sensors with the notable exception of Terran biological optics. The yellow sun high in the strangely blue sky warmed P'Thok's carapace, making him feel more awake, more alive than he would normally have felt after a 18 month cold-drift to the enemy home world of the TerraSol Third Republic, the home world of the only intelligent mammalian predator in the known universe. With their warlike ways, innovativeness at devising war material, and fearsomeness on the field of battle, P'Thok was slightly surprised that he was even alive, not burned down by the extensive planetary and air defense systems the Terrans possessed. He was not drowned in one of those scattered oceans, and not killed by a fast moving piece of space dust puncturing his drop pod, nor did his grav-repulsers malfunction and smear him across one of the fractured pieces of the protocontinent. Looking carefully around, his vision enhanced by his combat visor, P'Thok saw why he had not been shot down or incinerated by one of those massive weapons emplacements that Hive Intelligence believed covered the entire surface of TerraSol. He was at the edge of one of the huge facilities Terrans seemed to be obsessed with creating, the massive bulk of weapons, and the huge, hulking shapes of Terran warships were everywhere to the magnetic North of P'Thok. East and West were strips of light forest, nice for aesthetic reasons and producing oxygen, if you breathed it. P'Thok enjoyed the sweet smell of Nitrogen that permeated the atmosphere in undreamed of quantities. No wonder the Terran mammals fought so hard to protect their homeworld, the very air nourished normal intelligent life! P'Thok wondered at the sweet atmosphere, reaching into the pod and pressing the autodestruct sequence. With a hiss, the pod shivered and collapsed into dust that stirred in the sweet smelling breeze from the huge metropolis to the South of P'Thok's landing site. P'Thok activated his recorders and began moving South, toward the large city that the Treana'ad Mothers had named "Ninth Swarming Place of Furless Mammals" and the Terrans called "New Angelos". By the time the warm yellow sun had crested its zenith and began moving toward the horizon, P'Thok had been picked up by a well meaning, nearly polite Terran, and given a ride on the back of a fearsomely fast 2-wheeled transport that roared and shivered and moved like some kind of reptile in and out of the ground-effect vehicle traffic. The talkative mammal had mistaken him for one of the traitorous Manti, one of the mammal's ally, who had missed something called a "bus". The mammal had given him a ride all the way into the center of the huge metropolis, dropping him off in the center market to do some "sight seeing". The two words meant the same to P'Thok, and he wondered exactly what vision visioning could hold for a tourist to TerraSol as he wandered the spacious streets of the city. Looking around, P'Thok felt his mind reel as he looked up at the huge buildings, some of them taller than the Hive P'Thok had grown from a larvae. Terran's were everywhere, moving about rapidly, and grunting at one another in Terran Standard. To P'Thok the language sounded just as brutal as the Terran's themselves. The ground vibrated underneath the city, and P'Thok barely kept his cool, nearly screaming aloud as the very ground shook beneath his feet. Some of the beings around him stared, and P'Thok heard more than one instance of the brutish sound P'Thok knew served as Terran laughter. He could not believe it, the Terran's took no notice of planet instability. That would enable them to live on more planetary bodies than anyone had ever thought! That knowledge alone would guarantee that the Hive Mothers would be pleased with P'Thok's performance. No wonder the mammals fought like the insane, they came from a planet that was just as unstable as they were! He took pictures carefully, making sure nobeing could see his actions as he recorded both the buildings and the masses of beings that hurried about their business. He was careful to record the mammals entering buildings in great detail. In one instance, P'Thok carefully recorded every available sight of a place that turned away any who were not Terran military. He wondered what the facility, named Harv's Bar and Grill, could possibly be. Weapons research? Strategy planning? Cybernetics or power armor manufacturing. Fluttering his vestigial wings in agitation, P'Thok reluctantly moved away from the tempting building, whose optic-catching holo's seemed almost to try to lure him inside. His sensitive audio receptors, boosted by his head covering, could detect the barking sound of Terran laughter, the sound of glass on glass, glass on plastic, plastic on plastic, and both glass and plastic on metal. Whatever activity was happening inside was plainly quite exciting to the Terrans inside, but the two huge, hulking Terran soldiers on either side of the door intimidated P'Thok to the point he would not even try to peer inside the brightly lit window. By nearly sunset, P'Thok was beginning to become nervous as he wanted the streets of the gigantic habitation complex. All around him beings were moving about, and on some corners, beings nervously hocked wares to reluctant appearing beings. More than once a male or female Terran would approach another Terran, and they would leave together to enter a building. While he often saw the same being who waited to be approached, he rarely saw the one who made the approach again. Some beings were beginning to stare, and P'Thok became sure that sooner or later, somebeing would recognize he was a Traena'ad instead of a Manti, and the military would be called in to take him into custody. He knew that if the Terrans took him prisoner, he would be cooked over hot liquid vapor, cracked open, and eaten with sauce. Every Traena'ad knew that was what the Terran's did with captured Traena'ad, and P'Thok had seen Terrans dismember, deshell, and devour reddish, exoskeleton clad creatures whose forward digits ended in claws. To P'Thok's horror, he had seen more than one feeding establishment with the lifeforms caged in transparent cells, filled with salinated water, to be picked out by one of the Terrans, and then, after a suitable wait, devoured. P'Thok shivered and tried to think of a way to avoid notice and possible devouring. Quickly looking around, P'Thok saw quite a few beings purchasing the wares of a stand marked "Ice Cream" in Terran Standard, and took note of the fact that nobeing seemed to take notice of any being that devoured the ware. He recorded the stand, including spectrograph analysis, electromagnetic scan and full visual. He worked up his courage and approached, his senses picking up a rich mixture of complex protein chemicals emanating from the cart. Curious, P'Thok stood in line and eventually reached the front of the line, drawing closer and closer to the source of those wonderful airborne scents. One of the squat, bulky mammals was offering a cold semi-solid, topping a wrapped breadlike wafer substance. His hairless face was contorted into what Hivehome Intellegence had briefed P'Thok was the equivalent of a smile. To P'Thok, it looked like a gestured intention of imminent devouring, with the bared meat tearing teeth of one of the galaxy's few intelligent predators. P'Thok had seen that expression all day, however, and was past the initial flinching stage that he had been in when first confronted by a grimacing mammal. "Ice Cream, gentlebeing? I have chocolate, raspberry, strawberry, mint chocolate chip, or vanilla left." the man told P'Thok, speaking in rapid Galactic Standard heavily accented with the brutish Terran tones. "Strawberry." P'Thok half mused, holding out the Terran credit chip. The man scanned the chip, nodded, then scooped out a chunk of pinkish, frosted material and deposited on the open end of the conically wrapped wafer. The Terran handed P'Thok the credit chip and the cone, then waved P'Thok on. The insect warrior moved on, gently testing the cold substance with antenna and equipment, searching to make sure that it was not some type of poison, a mild organic corrosive for cleaning teeth, or a cruel Terran joke that would suddenly eviscerate him in broad daylight in the middle to the street. Complex carbohydrates, frozen H2O, sweetened wafer, no synthetics. It was safe for consumption, and P'Thok sliced a piece off with one mandible, drawing the rapidly melting piece into his maw. Melted nicely, and the taste reminded P'Thok of fruit, his favorite dish. The cone was not bad either, kind of tuber taste to it. Almost eagerly, he took one more bite, to see if it was as good the second time he ingested the strange substance. The taste seemed to explode in P'Thok's brain, and he found himself steadily devouring the strange creation. Some beings looked at him, but turned away smiling that normally terrifying Terran smile. P'Thok could not care less what other beings did, as long as he had some of this wonderful substance to consume! Here was a creation worth going to war with the Terrans all over again, a secret that showed just how treacherous the mammals were in not sharing it with the all powerful Traena'ad Hiveworlds, did the stupid little mammals not know that the Traena'ad were Gods, and P'Thok was the most powerful of them all! He found himself dancing quickly, ignored by passerby, and stopped suddenly, a realization dawning on him. He was invisible! Nobody paid any attention to him. He was invincible! That's why no one dared confront him! P'Thok looked around slyly with the last realization, searching for a female Traena'ad, or even a Manti. After all, he was SEXY. No female would be able to resist him. Even the Terran females were glancing at him slyly, and for a long moment, P'Thok was tempted to trying a cross-species sexual encounter, but changed his mind at the sight of their powerful arms and thick, killing digits. The lights of the city were bright, and seemed to emit sounds of their own, turning the city into a sparkling orchestra or sounds that P'Thok had never imagined in his life! All of the beings he met were friendly toward him, trying to cull the favor of the powerful and wise P'Thok, and even the Terrans seemed acceptable, now that he no longer had to fear them, since we was invisible, omnipotent and irresistible. All too soon, though, P'Thok began worrying that he had forgotten something. Had he revealed himself to some being he should not have? Had he dropped a piece of equipment that would give him away as a Traena'ad? Had he offended that large Terran cyborg waiting on the corner with a military carry-all in his large, killing hand? Had he forgotten the correct steps for the recreational mating dance? Dejectedly, he began searching for a place to spend the night, but the huge, friendly city now seemed to distain him, until he moved into a small, cluttered side street and huddled up next to a large, smelly container that was cold and surrounded by slimy refuse. As liquid H2O began falling from the sky, he curled into a ball, miserable with the thought he might have forgotten something that the Hivemothers wanted, and lamenting the fact that no females found his pheromones attractive. Sleep came slowly and fitfully, and he dreamed of the Terran military cyborgs that he had seen on the streets chasing him through the tunnels of his Hivehome. When P'Thok awoke, he discovered some lousy mammal had stolen his foot coverings and rations! Not only was he wet and cold, but he no longer had food that was safe to consume, and his delicate feet would be subject to whatever horrors the Terrans could devise! Fortunately, he still had most of his equipment, and the credsticks hidden away. He rubbed his vestigial wings together as he decided that the only recourse he had was to purchase some ice cream to eat, or starve. The passerby for the most part ignored P'Thok for the next several days, as he spent all of his money on the delectable substance known as ice cream, trying as many different types as possible. He could not believe that the Terran's had devised so many distinct flavors! What geniuses! Surely the Hive Mothers would relent and grant the mammals honored being status in the Hive if they would just share the wonderful recipe of delightful concoction with the Traena'ad. Soon, P'Thok began selling some of his non-essential equipment to a man on a corner by a house with friendly Terran women who had lots of visitors at night. Soon, the man began trading the wonderful substance to simply record P'Thok speaking about life in the Hive, while two huge Terrans, nearly entirely mechanical, they were so heavily augmented with cybernetics, guarded P'Thok from the shadowy foes that sought to bring him down. Despite P'Thok's nervousness about the two fearsome combat cyborgs, the friendly man assured P'Thok that they were deserters from the Terran military that believed that Terrans and Traena'ad should work together. P'Thok could not believe that a simple street vendor sold something that would make the Warrior Caste of the Traena'ad appear harmless to the surrounding Terrans and tourists. Nearly as good as the legends of invisibility! And here was a fool who gave the substance for answers even a larvae would know. What fools these Terrans were. No, not fools, they knew who he was, and they would come and get him soon! Those two 'bodyguards' were in fact Terran military, who were measuring P'Thok for a steaming pot and determining what kind of sauce he would taste good coated with and dipped in!! Almost clacking with anxiety, P'Thok hurried to the nearest space port, keeping a whole box of ice cream close at hand the whole way, and boarded a flight to the Disputed Zone. There, he ordered his freezer stocked full with as many different types of ice cream as he could order. He really wanted to avoid leaving his room, after all, they were out there, waiting to get him, to keep him from breeding with fertile virgins. The whole way to the Disputed Zone, nobody even suspected the Traena'ad warrior who ate nothing but ice cream and rubbed it's legs together in glee one moment and whose antennae trembled with fear that they had almost caught him. No one knew that instead of a harmless Manti, peaceful ally of the Terrans, a Traena'ad warrior, a feared infiltrator to the very cradle of Terrans itself, was among them. Had not the Traena'ad defeated the Terran military in 22% of all engagements? Had P'Thok himself done something no other had ever done, visited the Terran home world and survived? Wasn't that man by large artificial pond of liquid H2O one of the men who had asked him harmless questions? What exactly was Rocky Road? There was not any chunks of stone, nor did it have any roads in it. The Disputed Planet Tk'Ktak/Decarus was easy to reach, and easier to move from the Terran occupied areas to the small section of the protocontinent that the Traena'ad still occupied. Before P'Thok left the Terran Occupied Zone, he stole a large, armored ice cream transport vehicle that had specially outfitted to transport the wonderful material. The camouflage built into the vehicle and the bobbing head of a large Terran with a bright red nose and strangely multi-colored hair ensured that none of the Terrans would try to stop P'Thok as he raced out of the Terran Occupied Zone. The severed head atop the vehicle cackled the harsh Terran laughter the entire way, striking fear into everyone, but strangely enough, attracting Terran larvae, who tried to flag P'Thok down with credsticks. Each crowd of Terran larvae made P'Thok chitter in terror, and reach into the back of the armored transport for another ice cream bar. He was deathly afraid the small, voracious creatures would manage to stop his armored vehicle and devour him in a larval feeding frenzy. The viscous little larvae were in such a feeding frenzy that they chased him on their large, crushing feet for long distances, their hunting cries loud as they pursued him. He was keening in relief when he finally reached the Traena'ad Occupied Zone, pursued by dozens of Terran assault craft who seemed desperate to regain the armored transports valuable cargo intact, and because of that, could not bring their heavy weaponry to bear. Despite that, the ferocity of the Terran assault troops forced what small, remaining forces the Traena'ad had off the planet within hours. But P'Thok and his invaluable cargo had made it, and once his superiors had sampled the contents of the armored cargo vehicle, they agreed that the loss of a minor planet was nothing compared to the importance of P'Thok's discovery. While sampling the prize P'Thok had returned with, Clutch Leaders decided that they would use their secret weapon, and the invincibility that it bestowed upon them, on the hotly contested world of Chtick'vik, where the Terrans had recently inserted a full Clutch of Terran Heavy Assault Marines. P'Thok's superiors viewed what tapes P'Thok had not sold off, and agreed, with ice cream in there possession, the mighty Terrans would suffer the fate of any other primate that dared resist a Traena'ad. Defeat, death, and devouring. P'Thok and the other warriors gathered together to charge the Terran lines. Their weapons were slung as they moved slowly forward through the line, each of them being handed an ice cream cone by the Clutch Leader. All present were trembling in anticipation of the substance that would turn them from the universes lowest form of life, not fit to even gaze upon the stars, much less travel them, to the greatest thing the universe had ever created, the sum of all that was good, wise, clever, sexy, and powerful. They had seen what happened to the Terran Marines stationed nearby as the Traena'ad sympathizers stole each ice cream shipment as it came through. Snagging it right from the Terran Naval transports when they touched down, and leaving boxes full of dirt in the place of the crated refrigeration units the ice cream was shipped in. As the ice cream was stolen, the Traena'ad watched the Terrans closely to see what effect it would have on the Terran warriors. More and more fighting among brood brothers, lack of equipment maintenance, lackluster patrols, a complete falling apart of discipline in a force feared galaxy wide for their discipline and ferocity. The Terrans went from almost machinelike to a clutch of larvae without Hivemind touch for guidance. P'Thok's superiors were pleased with P'Thok's discovery of the secret to Terran ferocity and ability to become nearly invisible anywhere. Not to mention the ability to breed like some kind of scavengers infesting a giant corpse. They had planned in lengthy conferences, partaking of the wondrous substance P'Thok had discovered, and finally settling on the mornings operation. During the long trip, having gotten lost several times, they had devoured the cargo of the armored transport, and so, had to choose a random world to test the power of ice cream on. Wisely, the Clutch Lord had pointed at the map, membranes over his eyes, and stated that that world would be the first to fall. Each Traena'ad left the bunker complexes that had been their home, scuttling forward on powerful legs, holding the ice cream cones high overhead to grant them invisibility and fearsome combat discipline and skill. Many of the cones were half eaten, and more than one warrior held an empty hand high into the air, snickering to himself with his cleverness at deceiving his superiors into thinking he had not eaten his issued cone. They drew closer and closer to the Terran lines, not a single shot being fired at them. They could feel a surge of victory as they drew ever closer, soon able to see the Terran Marines staring at them in fear and confusion. Elation filled their hearts as they drew ever closer, coming closer than anyone ever had without being discovered and fired on by the fearsome mammals. Some of the Terrans were bent over, convulsing in terror and their diaphragms spasming so they uttered sharp barks of fear and chagrin. "Open fire!" one of the Terran's bellowed, and the fearsome firepower of the Terran Marines tore the attacking insect warriors apart. Some of them managed to stagger within spitting distance of the Terrans, but none of them ever fired a rifle, one warrior stopping between two marines to dance and preen at them, displaying his invisibility and cleverness. P'Thok watched the demise of his comrades from behind the boulder where he had stopped to eat his cone, and any cones within reach, and felt sad, but oh well, more would be hatched to replace them. P'Thok figured he would go back and tell Hive Intelligence what had happened. As soon as he finished this ice cream cone. And maybe the bucket of ice cream in the bunker.
