The Mantis
Tellingly, a favourite song among the
Mantis spells out the ultimate dream of
the race as it pertains to the Frontier
Wars. Among other galactic exploits,
recently added stanzas foretell of the
capture of the planet Terra. The hives fly
together, birthing the millions of Mantis
who spill across the Terran plain. These
brand-new children then seize the nine
billion inhabitants of Terra and
mechanically grind them into a milky
pink paste, which they then feed to the
rest of the Mantis Navy, who dance across
the planet, drunk on the Terrans’
liquefied carcasses. Something to
keep in mind...
Mantis spells out the ultimate dream of
the race as it pertains to the Frontier
Wars. Among other galactic exploits,
recently added stanzas foretell of the
capture of the planet Terra. The hives fly
together, birthing the millions of Mantis
who spill across the Terran plain. These
brand-new children then seize the nine
billion inhabitants of Terra and
mechanically grind them into a milky
pink paste, which they then feed to the
rest of the Mantis Navy, who dance across
the planet, drunk on the Terrans’
liquefied carcasses. Something to
keep in mind...
History
We may never find a planet of more unforgivable beauty than Chut, the home world of the race known as
the Mantis. Terrans visiting Chut would be awestruck by the stunning fields of wheat and grass as far as the
eye can see - for seven years at a time, at least. Following that verdant long season is an equally long season
of almost unbelievable cold, ice covering the planet in layers miles thick, atmosphere so cold that airbreathers’
lungs would turn stone hard in seconds. This strange phenomenon of seven-year seasons is due to
the calamitously wild swing of the planet Chut in its rotation around its sun.
Swarming across these plains in days of old came the Mantis, the gigantic, somewhat narrowly hive-minded
insects bearing the powerful exoskeletons necessary to withstand Chut’s unique environment. Like the
miniature insects from which they are descended, the Mantis feed well on grain for seven entire years, after
which they must hibernate in caves of ice and rock. During this hibernation, once nutrients run out, the
Mantis feed upon those who die during the long sleep: drilling machines reduce the corpses of the Mantis to a
liquid mash that allows the rest of the race to survive. In this way they make it through the long, cold winter.
The insectoid Mantis are completely oriented toward the group to which they belong. Mantis politics are
extremely complex, but over the years we have developed a basic understanding of how the system works.
Modern Mantis are divided into sects arranged by maternal heredity. The sects themselves do not have
inherent duties; rather, as powers shift in Mantis politics, the various sects are placed in charge of various
more and less important duties. These duties cover just about everything a race might need to survive, from
food supply maintenance to ship-building-and even, surprisingly, to humour (Mantis humour has to be heard
to be believed, although it will never be understood).
The three most important sects are the royal Azkar; the military Malkor, who are in charge of ship-building;
and the mystic Kz’ra, whose influence at court with Queen Azkar is not completely understood. The
hive-minded race has produced a very interesting kind of technology that is difficult for an individualist
society such as the Terrans to deal with: Everything they build is based upon the precept numbers
upon numbers.
the Mantis. Terrans visiting Chut would be awestruck by the stunning fields of wheat and grass as far as the
eye can see - for seven years at a time, at least. Following that verdant long season is an equally long season
of almost unbelievable cold, ice covering the planet in layers miles thick, atmosphere so cold that airbreathers’
lungs would turn stone hard in seconds. This strange phenomenon of seven-year seasons is due to
the calamitously wild swing of the planet Chut in its rotation around its sun.
Swarming across these plains in days of old came the Mantis, the gigantic, somewhat narrowly hive-minded
insects bearing the powerful exoskeletons necessary to withstand Chut’s unique environment. Like the
miniature insects from which they are descended, the Mantis feed well on grain for seven entire years, after
which they must hibernate in caves of ice and rock. During this hibernation, once nutrients run out, the
Mantis feed upon those who die during the long sleep: drilling machines reduce the corpses of the Mantis to a
liquid mash that allows the rest of the race to survive. In this way they make it through the long, cold winter.
The insectoid Mantis are completely oriented toward the group to which they belong. Mantis politics are
extremely complex, but over the years we have developed a basic understanding of how the system works.
Modern Mantis are divided into sects arranged by maternal heredity. The sects themselves do not have
inherent duties; rather, as powers shift in Mantis politics, the various sects are placed in charge of various
more and less important duties. These duties cover just about everything a race might need to survive, from
food supply maintenance to ship-building-and even, surprisingly, to humour (Mantis humour has to be heard
to be believed, although it will never be understood).
The three most important sects are the royal Azkar; the military Malkor, who are in charge of ship-building;
and the mystic Kz’ra, whose influence at court with Queen Azkar is not completely understood. The
hive-minded race has produced a very interesting kind of technology that is difficult for an individualist
society such as the Terrans to deal with: Everything they build is based upon the precept numbers
upon numbers.
Technology
Several of the Mantis ships are carriers. If they could, they would build carriers that carry carriers. They don’t
care about the individual. Hull defence is almost completely unimportant: the numbers are what count. And
as Abraham Lincoln of the Terrans observed, numbers win wars.
care about the individual. Hull defence is almost completely unimportant: the numbers are what count. And
as Abraham Lincoln of the Terrans observed, numbers win wars.