Solant stood, as always, in the command centre. She was, as always, calm, centred and focused.
Around her flowed the organised chaos of the HQ, a constant stream of pheromone conversations, scouts coming in and out, generals discussing, theorising and carvers planning, plotting, working through construction issues and tracking logistics. It was a confusing, chaotic and neverending barrage of information that would have completely flattened most ants, or even most individuals around Pangera, but she wasn't just anyone, she was Solant.
She was, quite literally, built for this.
Her brain, or brains, to be more accurate, filtered and allocated information through a precise network of channels, her Logistics Matrix able to funnel the right information to the right processing centres, which then synthesised the information, weaving together the relevant pieces to create a coordinated whole out of the chaos.
Solant had designed herself very carefully, ensuring every drop of evolutionary energy was wisely spent to turn her into the best general she could possibly be. Her mastery over the battlefield had increased dramatically, but the need for her to be on the frontlines managing the fighting herself had gone down just as much.
It was a shame. She missed it, but to operate at the level her Senior had demanded required sacrifices, and she had adjusted her evolutionary priorities accordingly. There would still be chances for her to put her true speciality to use, of that she was sure, but for now, she was responsible for so much more than a single battle: an entire campaign, with millions of ants, thousands of generals and hundreds of different battlefields. She had changed herself to become a vessel, a receptacle that could receive the necessary information, process it, and apply it to her tactical and strategic framework.
Well, they hadn't done it yet. Solant had, of course, planned for such an eventuality, but those countermeasures weren't in place yet.
Most would, or at least, she believed they would. Solant imagined that humans, or ka'armodo, or even the Krath themselves perhaps, would be susceptible to such emotions.
To her soldiers, this was merely work, and work would get done.
With every minute that ticked by, the living model in front of her continued to grow and expand. Sections of wall were being finished, channels for mana, wuffer platforms, roads, chambers, storehouses, powered transport shafts, elevators and distribution networks, all being reported as done, allowing the mages to shape the living stone to include the completed work in the model. There were over a thousand construction crews working at any given moment, and progress toward the completed fortress was rapid.
If the Krath took too long to find a weakness, then the work would be complete, and Solant would happily slam the door in their faces. The family would then wait out the wave, growing stronger and developing the strategy for the second phase of the invasion.
Until then, it would be the Krath versus the systems, discipline and tactics she had instilled in the army that guarded the tunnels.
Solant didn't like to gamble, but she was very confident on which side was going to win.
Which was a good thing, since she hated to lose.