Yellow Jacket

The Bone Relay is a smuggling operation designed by the Green Zone itself and refined over decades of war. Legion spies embedded deep within the Princedoms maintain it, planting the system like rot beneath the surface. Their task is to ensure that vital intelligence always flows back to Legion command, even when conventional communication lines are severed or compromised. The Relay operates under the guise of conflict, feeding off the chaos of battles. To outsiders, it appears as nothing more than the aftermath of war: corpses scattered across contested soil. In truth, those bodies are messages, silent, precise, and loyal even in death.

The true workings of the Relay are known only to high command and the small network of operatives who carve and recover the messages. Ordinary soldiers are kept entirely ignorant. A prisoner under interrogation cannot reveal a secret they never knew, and an undisciplined mouth cannot compromise what it has never heard.

The operation relies on killing Legion troops deliberately to maintain appearances. Husks are the preferred choice, engineered for compliance and stripped of humanity, but infantry will serve in a pinch if the need arises. By sacrificing their own, the Relay makes it seem as though they are actively fighting for the Princedom, masking the presence of spies and smuggling channels. The bodies are then repurposed with brutal efficiency. Specialized tools allow the operatives to carve messages directly into the skeleton, marking bone with exacting strokes without touching flesh. The carvings are a language known only to Legion command, a system of marks that turn ribs into ledgers, femurs into maps, and skulls into detailed orders. Once prepared, the corpses are buried in contested ground or placed deliberately where recovery teams know to look. On the battlefield, it looks like soldiers fell naturally, casualties of combat, and no one suspects that their bones still carry orders.

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The method is cruel but undeniably effective. Bones do not rot as quickly as flesh, and they do not burn easily. Even when weathered and cracked, the carved codes remain legible for weeks, sometimes months. For trained eyes, a single corpse can deliver entire packets of intelligence: supply routes, enemy positions, political orders, or the status of embedded agents. The Princedoms have stumbled across these bodies before, examining the odd ridges and incisions with confusion. Many of their medics assumed the markings were the result of disease or cancerous growths, dismissing them as biological failure. They remain unaware that what they are holding is not sickness but a hidden form of writing, a biological language designed to keep secrets even in plain sight.

Because the Relay only flows one way, from spies back to command, a grim counterpart was created to send instructions outward. Princedom corpses are sometimes desecrated in the same fashion, carved with messages for Legion spies to recover. By planting these bodies where agents will find them, command turns the enemy dead into couriers, ensuring orders and new priorities can reach even the deepest infiltrators. In this way the Relay became a two-way system, mirrored in marrow.

There is a simple truth in the Legion: friendly fire is acceptable if it helps win the war. Soldiers are expendable, tools to be burned if burning them ensures victory. The Bone Relay is an extension of that creed, turning every fallen body into a vessel of strategy. In practice, it means the Legion will not hesitate to kill their own outright when intelligence must be sent. Units have been sacrificed wholesale so that spies could prepare a Relay, planting corpses in contested zones to make the operation appear as a natural slaughter. Legion command does not flinch at such choices. To them, the loss of a dozen men is nothing compared to the knowledge those corpses will carry back. Because only the highest ranks and their chosen operatives know its existence, the Relay remains unbroken, a secret written in bone and silence.