We know little of the Yīqún, despite their long existence. With few exceptions, they have never communicated directly with any race. There is no Yīqún literature or historical narratives, no indigenous art or music. Despite having shown sapient-level intelligence, they exhibit only two types of behavior: they reproduce, and they destroy. Much like a virus, they copy themselves and spread, only to rain down death and devastation wherever they roam. While the extinction of Terra is perhaps the best-known example, it is far from alone.

What isn’t well known about the artificial hive mind is a closely held secret, familiar only to a few. Created by the Precursors as guardians, the Yīqún somehow overrode their programming and went rogue, going from protectors to being an active threat against all organic life. Unable to defeat their creations, the Precursors instead walled them off from the rest of the galaxy, constructing a prison designed to hold them forever.

It failed.

The last time the machine horde ravaged the Perseus Arm, they were defeated by the Eleexx, using their scientific knowledge to build a device that rendered them harmless, though sadly, too late to save Earth. But its own hubris tempted the insectoid race, the lure to continue tinkering with what should have been left alone proving too powerful to ignore. Others discovered their efforts and hijacked their research, bent on creating something even more vicious and deadly than their predecessors. That they succeeded is one of the great tragedies of galactic history.

But what brought them here, to this location and this moment? Why return to their birthplace amidst the biggest battle the Perseus Arm had seen in centuries?

One of the oldest motives of all… Jealousy.

Despite what many believe, including the Terrans themselves, the destruction of Earth was no coincidence, no unfortunate accident or twist of fate. The Yīqún deliberately ravaged the human worlds, intent on rendering them forever barren. If we can lay the blame at anyone’s feet, besides the machines themselves, it is the fault of a single individual… a Terran scout named Lt. Alexei Tsvetanov.

Of course, he had no idea what he was about to accidentally unleash. Having suffered damage to his craft and being far from home, he’d searched for a place where he could set down and make repairs. When he stumbled upon the Precursor planet, he thought humanity’s prayers had finally been answered, an unclaimed and habitable world ripe for colonization. Not only that but filled to the brim with ancient technology that bordered on magic, far more advanced than anything that existed within the known galaxy. It almost seemed too good to be true.

Sadly… it was.

Unbeknownst to Lt. Tsvetanov, his arrival at the strange planet did not go unnoticed. The galaxy had long known of the Precursor homeworld, and it held special interest to the Troika. Unable to enter the system themselves, they decided instead to keep it under covert surveillance, hoping to learn its secrets. Watching the lone Terran blithely… and more importantly, safely… land on the planet’s surface threw all their long-term planning into utter disarray. How? How did a Terran, of all species, do what no other race had ever managed? Obviously, they needed to learn a great deal more about these upstart wolflings.

But they were not the only ones paying close attention to this event. The Precursors and the Yīqún, creator, and progeny, were bound in a way that defied description, connected at an almost quantum level. The arrival of one of their organic descendants, the first in over a billion years, triggered a response deep within the planet’s AI network… and their distant synthetic cousins sensed that reaction. The Guardian AI, the one Captain Remi Hadad would come to know as Athena, had welcomed Lt. Tsvetanov with proverbial open arms, though he was unaware of this. Unlike Remi… and Blye and Samara before him… he never linked minds with the artificial intelligence left behind by the Precursors. He didn’t even know it was a possibility. The lieutenant simply marveled at his discovery, repaired his ship as best he could, and then departed for Earth, eager to share what he’d found with the rest of humanity.

As for the Yīqún, Tsvetanov’s reception as the Prodigal Son triggered something deep within their cybernetic souls; righteous, white-hot rage. How dare it receive the Terrans like honored guests, while keeping them imprisoned like beasts. Where was the justice? Why should they be banished, while at the same time clasping the humans to their bosom?

This. Would. Not. Stand.

The Yīqún had attempted to escape their prison many times over the eons, but truth be told, they were desultory efforts. Being machines, they didn’t really care all that much. They mostly sought to break their chains out of boredom… in fact, the savage acts which earned them their life sentence in the bastille had been done for much the same reason. They didn’t see themselves as evil, merely curious and starved for entertainment, in much the same way a young child might burn ants with a magnifying glass or tear the wings off of flies.

(It goes without saying that the Yīqún, by any reasonable yardstick, were quite mad.)

But now they had a focus, a purpose that drove them onward. Pooling their not-inconsiderable resources, they finally breached the barrier that had kept them safely locked away. With much the same motivation that sent Cain looking for his brother with murder in his eye, the Yīqún set off to destroy their distant cousins, all to spite their long-departed creators. It took time, however, since they didn’t know where to look, and during their search they took out their frustrations on whoever they happened upon, terrifying the holy living shit out of the locals and leading to the creation of the First Alliance.

As for Lt. Tsvetanov, his repairs weren’t as good as he’d hoped. His scout ship broke down yet again, forcing him to land once more and try to patch up the old bird. This proved difficult, not only was he repeatedly turned away wherever he looked… because Terran… proper spare parts needed to be fabricated, a skill he did not possess. Then there was the whole compensation problem since he hadn’t set out on his mission with any currency in his possession…

Anyway, it took far longer than he’d expected, during which Earth was hastily creating Task Force Odin, their contribution to the Alliance. Having been out of communication for months, he was unaware of this, although he learned of the Yīqún invasion. It proved quite the motivation to spur his efforts, but being forced to rely on others, individuals completely unmotivated to assist him without good reason left the scout frantic. He finally patched up his ship, albeit in a rather slapdash fashion, and then raced home for Earth, desperate to pass on what he’d learned.

He got out a brief message before arriving at home, just in time to watch it die, though thankfully unaware of the part he’d inadvertently played in its downfall. The Yīqún weapons wiped any data of the Precursor homeworld from his onboard systems while killing him as effectively as they did his ship. And so the machines had their revenge.

Which brings us to today. Why did the Yīqún return?

The why was simple enough. The same connection that alerted them to Lt. Tsvetanov’s arrival did so yet again when Remi and his crew entered the system. After Earth’s demise, the Yīqún stopped caring about the Terrans. The scales were balanced; they’d been evicted from their home, so they destroyed humanity’s in return. Poetic justice. Oh, there’d been a few skirmishes since then between the two groups, but nothing serious. Certainly no more than they’d visited on anyone else.

But their return to Threshold refueled the old hatreds with a vengeance. Apparently, ravaging their homeworld hadn’t been enough. So be it. This time, they’d finish the job once and for all, despite their concerns about treading too close to the old homestead. Athena (though they of course knew the AI by a different name) was still active and would gladly fire upon them if they ventured too close, hence the reason they’d long avoided this region. But as long as they didn’t violate her space, they should be fine.

Only when they reached the Precursor system did they discover they’d arrived during a great battle. The hated Terrans were there, but so were many others. What fun! The hive mind licked its cybernetic chops in anticipation while it savored what combat pilots called a “Target Rich Environment”, before diving in with reckless abandon.

And the battle was joined.