image [https://i.imgur.com/mqoF0qO.jpg]

“Humble apologies,” Xeno-Psychiatrist Zelana said with genuine remorse, as she entered the briefing room via the sliding door near the corner. “There was a patient in urgent need of my care and—”

“Never mind that,” Kaz said. “Just take your seat with the others.”

Zelana surveyed the room and its occupants.

All were seated around the holoprojector except for Kaz, who stood beside it. Attendees included Lieutenant Agozi, Honorary-Lieutenant Snikers, Xeno-Biologist Okens, and other senior crew members.

For most, a brief pause would be necessary to absorb the ambiance and discern the situation's seriousness, but for the Langa, such perceptions were instinctive. The subtle yet unmistakable tension in the postures of those gathered signaled that this was no routine assembly.

Zelana found herself ruminating on the reason for her summoning. Her work, though crucial, was primarily therapeutic in nature. Yet, a succinct message from Kaz beckoned her urgently to the bridge.

Ambiguity unsettled the Langa, and Zelana felt this unease most acutely. The uncertainty of the situation heightened her anxiety. It was evident that a matter of grave importance was unfolding or on the brink of doing so.

Kaz's whiskers trembled momentarily, hinting at his notice of Zelana's discomfort.

“Something wrong?”

It took Zelana a moment to respond.

“No.” Her voice held the merest trace of anxiety. “My mental state is proper. Your concern is appreciated.”

Yet, beneath the composed facade Zelana presented, her emotional equilibrium wasn't as steadfast as she portrayed.

Before committing herself to the Union, she had meticulously studied the associated risk probabilities. The likelihood of enduring a catastrophic event as a type-three crewmember was statistically insignificant.

Tangibly, at least.

In the hierarchy of risk, type-zero assignments, with roles such as terrestrial scouting and armed security, stood at the forefront of potential danger. It was usually the fearless Mevik and, on rare occasions, a Prol who ventured into these perilous domains. The risks associated with type-one and two were palpable, but not as pronounced. For most Langa, it was typically the type-four or higher that aligned with their level of comfort. Zelana's choice to embrace a type-three spoke volumes of her.

By Langan standards.

Her genetic inheritance remained impervious to the calming reassurances of statistical data; a fact evidenced by the involuntary tremor in her nose.

“Doctor Zelana?” Kaz asked again, having noted her momentary paralysis.

“My apologies,” Zelana replied in a snap, before being escorted to her designated sitting spot by a nearby Mevik security guard.

After ensuring that no vital participants were absent, Kaz darkened the room using a remote and commenced the presentation.

“Some time ago, our experimental scanners detected an unknown object,” he said. “We deviated from our original mission to investigate. We’ve now obtained confirmation that the object is a wreckage belonging to a previously unencountered space faring civilization.”

The holoprojector displayed a rotating three-dimensional representation of the alien wreckage.

Disgruntled chatter and mumblings permeated.

A Prol from the second row, an engineering manager, gestured at Kaz to catch his attention.

Kaz noted the Prol.

“Is there a question you wish to pose?”

“Serious development,” the Prol said. “Not told. Why?”

Kaz hesitated for a moment.

“We believed it wiser to refrain from disclosing the find until we could fully grasp its implications.”

“Why?” asked the disgruntled Prol. “Security risk?”

“We have no reason to believe so.”

“If no risk, why treat information discreetly?”

Zelana’s nose twitched, and her lips also exhibited subtle movements of minor discomfort. She couldn't help but acknowledge the Prol's perspective. What could be so significant that they chose to withhold it? Were these the very reasons behind the consistent visits to her sanctuary? Was this the mystery behind Kaz's evasiveness to her queries?

As before, Kaz took a moment before responding to the Prol's inquiry.

“We had our reasons.”

Zelana, though not tall, found it easy to pay attention from her vantage point in the top row. She gently nipped her lower lip with her small fangs. A sign of anxiousness.

Kaz's brief conflict with the Prol engineer ended, allowing him to proceed with the presentation.

“An expedition party led by Master-Engineer Kesto was dispatched inside the wreckage to investigate,” he said. “Though circumstances forced them to abandon their mission prematurely, they were able to recover a specimen.” Kaz oriented himself toward the holoprojector.

The holographic display transitioned from the wreckage to a life-sized alien figure, showcased in a T posture and spinning along the X axis.

“This is a life-size depiction of the alien skeleton,” Kaz said. “There’s not much left, so we can only guess its true appearance.”

The skeleton’s size surprised many.

“This is true to scale?” one of the Mevik security personnel in the room asked. “Not just upscaled for easier viewing?”

“It is true to life,” Kaz replied.

“It looks even bigger than Kaz,” Zelana overheard one of the Mevik females mutter, who was seated a couple of spots away from her in the bottom row. “By quite a lot, actually.”

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Zelana scrutinized the hologram.

It indeed appeared quite large, dwarfing the Mevik and other sentient beings even more so.

Xeno-Biologist Okens walked over to the projector and began adjusting the knobs on the holographic interface.

Beside the hologram, a series of 2D notes detailing forensics and anatomy became visible.

“Forensic analyzes complete is,” Okens said. “Stands upright, six feet three inches, hundred-seventy-six pounds minimum in living state, skeletal structure exceptionally balanced, natural bipedal, dexterity and finesse of movement superb…”

Zelana watched the Mevik's subdued reactions closely, catching their faint whisker shifts and barely noticeable nose twitches. She hypothesized that their reactions were likely rooted in vanity, given the Mevik's well-documented esteem for their physical prowess. Lacking such attributes, they would be indistinguishable from the plethora of other species within the Union lacking notable cognitive talents. Never mind that, she mused.

Okens continued reviewing the findings.

“Solid bones. Not hollow. Extremely durable…”

Bone mass would nominally dilute as a race matured into civilization, the durability of the home replacing the durability of bone.

“Unexpected skeletal design,” Okens said. “Primate lineage probable. First ever instance—"

Zelana looked startled as her eyes expanded and her ears lifted. In a move extremely uncharacteristic of a Langa, let alone an esteemed professional like herself, Zelana rose from her seat and interrupted Okens mid-lecture.

“No!”

Many turned with puzzled looks after the interruption, particularly Kaz who seemed especially surprised by the intrusion.

“That which you have stated cannot be correct!” Zelana exclaimed with a scholarly sense of righteousness.

The pervasive silence that followed induced a sense of discomfort within Zelana. However, the physical manifestations of her discomfort were intricately subtle, too nuanced for those outside the Langa species to decipher.

There was an extended awkward pause before Okens, looking clearly baffled, asked his question.

“Doctor Zelana Song? Psychiatric Division? Xeno-Psychiatry specialization?”

“You assume my qualifications correctly.”

With a momentary hesitation, Okens regarded Zelana with a mixture of confusion and surprise, clearly unaccustomed to such behavior from a Langa.

“Insights, related to your expertise, you'd like to share?” he asked eventually.

Kaz's eyes settled on Zelana, his expression a balance of interest and concern. He broke the silence shortly afterward.

“If there’s anything you’d like to share with us, some potentially valuable insight or information relating to what we’ve just discussed, now’s the time.”

All eyes in the room turned to Zelana.

With the mounting awareness of the undivided attention she had garnered, Zelana’s apprehension intensified. She appeared ready to voice something, her lips twitching, but she said nothing.

“Doctor Zelana?” Kaz repeated.

Zelana snapped out of it.

“There is.”

Possibly because she could sense her unease, Agozi approached her.

“Do you need any help making it to the holopodium?” she asked her empathetically.

Given her petite stature, Zelana had little choice but to accept the offer. Once she was guided to the podium, Kaz provided her with an amplifier for her translator.

“My apologies for the rude interruption,” she said. “I am Doctor Zelana Song. My assigned field of endeavor is the psychological analysis and study of—"

“Please expedite your point,” Kaz said impatiently. “Why did you deem it necessary to disrupt us?”

Feeling both chastised and annoyed by Kaz’s interruption, Zelana threw him a fleeting judgmental look.

“Doctor Okens asserts that the alien arose from a primate lineage,” she replied. “Such a supposition, however, counters logical reasoning.”

“How so?” Kaz asked.

“It contradicts socio-evolutionary theory.”

“Whose premise is what?”

A subtle twitch of Zelana’s nose and other faint signs revealed her discomfort.

“It's an undisputed tenet that only those species conforming to specific prerequisites possess the potential to transition into a sentient civilization.”

“What kind of criteria?”

“A steadfast social hierarchy is paramount,” Zelana replied, the apex of her snout quivering with seriousness. “A characteristic notably absent in primates. Indeed, it's challenging to contemplate a mammalian subset more predisposed to uncivilized behavior.”

The prevailing sentiment among anthropologists and socio-cultural scholars was that the bedrock of complex societies lay in monogamous or mate-sharing practices. Societies built on the principles of polygamy and hypergamy, they believed, lacked the stability for sustained cooperation. Primates were categorized under this more unstable bracket.

Okens considered her words.

“Familiar with theory,” he replied. “Theory not fact.” He gestured towards the holographic images. “Primate skeleton. True.”

A feeling of cringe overtook Zelana. While she empathized with the Prol, understanding that whilst they surpassed the Mevik in intellect, they still lagged behind the Langa. His lack of insight was predictable, but it still stung slightly, especially coming from someone of his professional standing.

“This is a conjecture anchored in a millennium of rigorous exploration and scientific scrutiny,” Zelana said with scholarly confidence. “Primates are infamously known for their volatile temperaments, their brutality transcending even the standards of non-sentient beings.”

To Zelana's chagrin, her words didn't elicit the gravitas she had anticipated.

“Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?” Agozi remarked, a hint of amusement evident despite the unsettling implication.

“That doesn't qualify as incontrovertible truth,” Zelana countered. “It merely appears so, given our predilection to overlook those events that fail to transpire.”

A flutter of Agozi's whiskers betrayed her puzzlement.

“How do you spot something that hasn’t happened?”

“You cannot,” Zelana replied “This forms the crux of the argument I have been striving to convey. There exist certain phenomena within our universe that are fundamentally contraindicated by nature's laws.”

“Why, then, is there a deceased primate in our morgue?” Kaz asked, his tone shifting between genuine inquiry and mockery.

“What he said,” Agozi seconded.

“Bones cannot deceive,” Okens then added.

A ripple of irritation coursed through Zelana. This was the sacrifice she made by choosing this path, the burden of sharing quarters with entities of such limited cognition. Their glaring lack of perspective, coupled with an astonishing inability to grasp the subtleties of her discourse, was almost too much to bear.

“They indeed cannot, yet this does not necessarily preclude the potential for sentient miscalculations.”

Okens used the holo-controls to zoom in on the alien skull.

“The skull,” he said. “Examine. Is flat. Primate design.”

Zelana scrutinized the 3D illustrations. The design of the skull did indeed bear an uncanny resemblance to one of a primate.

But this, by itself, was hardly enough evidence.

Zelana had studied at the most prestigious universities. The notion of civilized primates colonizing space contradicted everything they’d taught her. She had a professional obligation to refute such obvious nonsense, lest it steer the discourse some place undesirable.

“There are no instances in which primates have evolved beyond their rudimentary impulses.”

“Partially false,” Okens replied. “Basic tribal cultures known to exist. Precedent set already.”

“The cultures you refer to have languished in stasis for millennia,” Zelana scoffed back at him. “They lack the requisite capacity to extricate themselves from their abject state of existence.”

Agozi touched her cheek as she pondered.

“Maybe they just needed a little nudge in the right direction?”

Zelana hadn’t considered the possibility of an outside force uplifting the species but harbored reservations regarding the notion's plausibility.

“Intrusion into the organic evolution of rudimentary cultures is expressly forbidden under Union legislation.”

Kaz was quick to point out that neither this supposed primate race nor any hypothetical uplifter belonged to the Union.

“Their value system is unknown to us,” he said.

“Right,” Agozi retorted with a cheeky grin. “If they saw these crazy space apes as regressive, maybe they fancied it their noble task to give them a little 'upgrade', so to speak.”

Crazy space apes… Zelana mused, cringing internally at the juvenile language employed. The Union's penchant for attracting such 'talents' provides ample clarity on why its work isn't more revered.

Still, Zelana had to admit begrudgingly that such a possibility couldn’t be ruled out entirely, but she still expressed skepticism at the concept.

“Such intervention would require technology equal or perhaps even greater than our own,” she said. “This is ignoring the obvious ethical dilemmas accompanying such drastic alternation of another race’s genome.”

“Technology not greater,” Master-Engineer Kesto said. “Partially equal. Partially superior. Mostly inferior.”

For Zelana, Kesto's words sealed the matter conclusively.

“A civilization bereft of technological prowess cannot possibly catalyze the ascension of another,” she said. “This nullifies any ascension theory.”

The debate raged for a while longer, until Kaz cut it short.

“This species clearly diverges from any we've observed in the past,” he said. “However, indulging in unfounded speculation is neither productive nor do we possess the luxury of time for such pursuits.”