All of those individuals infected with the Spore's seed, connected to each other, feel a familiar presence in their minds. One of the family is trying to contact them. This has not happened in a while - the forests on Primus have, for a long time, gone unattended, rendering this sort of communication, once an everyday occurrence, now exceedingly rare. The thoughts and emotions being conveyed are particularly refined - not without cause, as the sparse communication between the disparate Carriers means most of them have lost their intuitive senses concerning the others.
It's Kuba. I've gone through a lot of things in the past few months - my whole way of life has changed. Upon a bit of reflection, I realized that things are the same for our family. No longer are we a powerful force, a name spoken in frantic whispers by space pilots flying through lanes and holes, slowly spreading our message of light and love. Instead, we are scattered and dispersed, no longer even in contact with each other. Our forest on Primus shrinks by the day as the residents of the planet slowly forget the pact that they made with us, and break the old bonds.
I do not intend for this to remain the state of things. If you are still able and willing to affect positive change in the galaxy, and work to ensure our survival, you need only think of me. I always have been, and always will be, patiently listening.