When we found this planet, we were startled. Shocked. Horrified.

Yet it was true. A lost colony!

A lost, and severed colony.

The fleet baron kneeled beside me as I sat on my throne. The vibrant hyper-space flowed around the viewscreen as we made haste to this lost colony. We tittered with excitement and anticipation.

The relics scattered around the system painted a grim tale.

The colony of House Gaius had succeeded. The type-3 humans had made landfall and were to proceed with the renaissance. The cycle of renewal and rebirth to better understand their purpose in the universe.

To regrow their house from nothingness and return to their home among the stars under their own power.

Except the Ruling Lines had somehow died.

The fail-safes… failed. House Gaius made a bad play and was ground into destruction by their hated rivals, House Harkennen. Not that House Harkennen could gloat as they fell from a 5th rank House to a 6th rank. Virtually powerless.

No starlight communication. No hope for help. No support. No… hivemind.

I shuddered at the thought. We shuddered but I quickly focused my thoughts. I am a royal and my mental awareness is second to none among my people. A dozen singers around me turned to look at me as one.

If I needed them. They would sing. A song that would allow me to bask in myself. To gently tune the whispers down to a trickle so that I could focus.

This severed colony worried me. We were all concerned and horrified.

While I was no crowned royal, I was an elder child of the monarchy. I possessed the right to rule. Hence why I was making haste to this new world. I was the youngest and with the smallest hive, making it easier to properly reflect on this planet.

I would have to decide their fate, to grant them the freedom to continue to live as is. Though it was rare, some colonies were too far gone to bother with the rebinding. We would state new rules, and wait to see what that would develop into.

I could rebind them. Allow them to once again unify but who knows what the people were like. There was a reason lost colonies were given the third option.

Purification.

As type-3 humans, they possessed the freest form of biology and had the best potential for unique developments. The best artists and creators were of the Type-3.

As a royal, a type-1, I had the unique and burdensome grace of the ruling line. The focal point upon which all minds tethered themselves too.

While my people had the bliss of unity, they could also dampen the signal. To have a moment of peace as they focused on themselves.

I had no such freedom. We loved. A surge of devotion and warmth embraced us all as we adored our love. Our leader. Our prince.

Each person was a thread. Threads that wove a weave of the hive which I held in my heart. These people were me, and I was them. The weave hid nothing and showed nothing. For there were no secrets within the weave.

I once again wondered what these lost colonists experienced. No weave meant a cold and indirect communion.

The speech was fine, but thoughts and meanings could easily be lost. The weave encompassed all of that and more. Nearly instant thought and emotion could travel from thread to thread, or person to person.

Though hives were independent of each other, they did cooperate. My eldest sibling, Crown Princess Issadela, would inherit our house. The House of the Blue Song family was one of tradition.

Issadela would one day lead us all in the dance of cards. The deck of which all hives played and died.

Father was a strong player, and thus House Blue Song was a shoulder above rival factions. As a 2nd rank House, we were also given privileges that were only surpassed by 1st rank Houses and the Imperial Family. The Emperor.

“Prince. We have arrived,” Baroness Solina whispered as she kneeled beside my throne. The golden cushion she rested on displayed her splendor as her flawless face stared at the new system. Her mind was razor-sharp as she cataloged the available information from the military and science divisions.

The viewscreen showed the new system. A subsystem clicked into place and projected the solar map. A dozen planets floated within the sun’s gravitational well. Though three of them were oddly spaced in the fringes of the system.

The second planet had echoes of colonial presence. The science corps predicted civil war. The historians showcased examples of other severed colonies going mad with loss at losing their ruling line.

The third planet was alive and thriving. This was where the people lived.

Roughly 8 billion lives. No ruling line could be felt.

“Deploy the fleet. Protective protocol diamond,” Baroness Solina whispered and the fleet moved in response. They would lock themselves around the planet and await my verdict.

I felt myself sag.

If I embrace this world I would condemn my people to suffer. Unlike the organized type-2s, these type-3s were wild.

Civil strife, no technology worth noting. No presence of the embodied cores. No royals. No Lords. No historians. No singers. Nothing.

I could feel my people’s distaste at this. We were sad. Tearful. Unhappy.

So uncivilized. It was like watching your neighbor, who looked like you, simply stand there and urinate on themselves. We were disgusted. We had to decide whether to embrace this smelly person or burn them with fire.

However, I am a prince. A royal of the ruling line and I am duty sworn to lead and to guide.

These lost humans of Gaius were under the protection of House Blue Song. That wing that shields the lost 5th rank House of Gaius was valid despite the ten-thousand-year gap of silence.

I felt myself sag as we were reunited with the scouting fleets. The whispered cheers of a hundred cruisers were met with an equal cheer of the principality. Our home fleet that was the home of our hive.

Information was shared. Affection and reunited people cheered across the weave as they communed.

The singers sang.

My mind quieted for the first time in nearly ten years as the soft voices caressed my mind with their song. My breathing hitched as my thoughts were too sharp. Too loud in the silence.

My chest heaved as breathing became difficult. I felt alone.

Before I was the lords. The lesser rulers that were heeded but could never inherit the ruling line. Not that they wanted it, the burden was heavy and our history showed that the weave had a habit of mentally and spiritually crushing anyone but the rare royals who could hold and embrace the weave itself.

I stared at the blue world below.

These were the brethren of the sworn allies of my house. We remembered and we recalled.

I stared at my Solina and nodded as her mind embraced mine. She was my most trusted. My most perfect thread among the weave.

She nodded and whispered to the weave as I fell back.

Six arms caught me and the weave surged with my presence. We love the prince. We cherish the prince. We will attempt to tolerate new and chaotic voices.

My breathing stabilized as the singers whispered soft lullabies and I fell to the weave’s embrace.

Tomorrow would begin a new era of the remnants of House Gaius.

Regardless of their own choices, we would embrace those that wish to be embraced.

We will tolerate those that choose freedom.

We will show them fear and fire if they prove to be unworthy.