Rasvai stepped around the long, cushioned seat that dominated the apartment's common space.

The daylight had faded and Callie had only turned on a small lamp in the corner to combat the darkness. The arxur loomed as a massive, shadowy silhouette against the soft pool of light. In her opinion, the dim lighting made the place seem much more comfortable.

"Hey," Callie said, raising a hand. The arxur grunted in reply.

Rasvai had mulled things over for nearly an hour, pitting her desire for sleep against the disquiet of her thoughts. She wanted to leave the pushy human in silence for as long as she could. Callie might be angry, but who cared? She was sick of being obedient to whoever held her life in their hands.

But instead of feeling prideful and superior that she'd gotten the human to submit to her demands—even offer her tribute—she felt worse. The misery and guilt had grown until she had no chance of brushing it aside. Why? She'd pushed down far worse things in the past. Why was this keeping her from sleeping?

Worthless defective. Sentimental scum. You'll never change.

Some vital chunk of her defective brain must have finally snapped. No matter how much she tried to pick apart the nefarious purpose behind the message in the envelope and the soft blanket—the humans' plans made no sense.

How would such useless things indebt her to the human? What would Callie demand of her in return? Why did Callie think she wanted a stupid flap of paper covered in insulting depictions of predators and…stupid words? A soft little bundle of cloth? Did Callie think that would buy her loyalty? She should just stuff them into the trash and forget all about it.

So why didn't she?

A True Arxur would.

Rasvai eyed the human occupying the apartment's common space. Callie had turned off the broadcast and shifted slightly, directing her full attention toward the arxur. The human was still silent, but her lips curled up when Rasvai's gaze met hers. Not a snarl—the challenge or threat she was so used to—but the soft shifting of the lips so common in humans.

Callie gestured at the opposite end of the couch. It was a clear invitation for the arxur to join her.

Rasvai hesitated, then sat. Once again she was ambushed by luxurious comfort as the cushions enveloped her. She leaned back, resting her neck against the crest of the cushions, her eyes closing as she allowed some of the tension to leak from her body again. She sighed quietly.

"I…would like to talk now," the arxur eventually grumbled. She opened her eyes and sat up, hunching forward so she wouldn't give in to the softness again.

"Sure," Callie said.

"You were right. I was hungry. Very hungry. It made me…quarrelsome. Impatient. Angry.” The arxur hissed. "And enduring the demands of my new superiors drained me of all patience." She pondered for a moment and then growled. "Avoiding social contact will only cause trouble. But more than that, I…I hate lies. Lying to you was a mistake, Callie.”

Callie smiled. “It's okay. I'm sorry I got so pushy about personal stuff. This is all such a huge change. I should've given you at least a week to acclimate properly." They shared a moment of silence. "Um…how was the pancetta? They have other stuff too, if you didn't like it."

Rasvai licked her chops again, swallowing the wave of saliva that filled her mouth. "It was…delicious. I've never eaten…anything like it."

"I'm glad you liked it." The conversation stalled once again. Callie cleared her throat

"Rasvai, I'm just excited to have you living with me. Like…you’re here. An alien. A few years ago, aliens were… theoretical. Imaginary. Sci-fi. Metaphors for imperialism or existential dread or…whatever.” She rolled her eyes and waved a hand.

“And now I have an arxur roommate. How cool is that?” She grinned. Then her expression sombered a bit. “I mean…I know it's not about me. Everyone's heard about the Dominion. The horror stories about the raids—the cattle and cruelty. It's almost unimaginable."

"But for so many of you, Dominion life was probably just this…awful struggle for survival. I can't imagine enduring all that misery. And then you find out it was nothing but mass manipulation and power games." Callie sighed. "None of you should go to bed hungry ever again. So…why were you starving yourself, Rasvai?"

Rasvai hesitated. Revealing her perspective probably wouldn't invite punishment. Other arxur had already shared many of the same concerns—though few were as distrusting of their new situation as she was. Most were so happy to be freed from rationing that they didn't care about anything but being fed.

"It was important to know that I was not beholden to an authority for survival. I was…surprised when Isif revealed that our starvation and rampant cruelties were nothing but brutal methods of control. It made no sense, otherwise."

"How could we be starving in a galaxy filled with prey? Worlds worth of cattle conquered? Yet, there's always enough for the meritorious. For the elites. For those in power to tempt with favors and [fattening positions]."

"How could Betterment operate with total freedom for centuries, yet still have to cull defective arxur constantly? How—after all this time—could they insist their doctrine was still necessary? At what point would Arxur be…Better?" The arxur sat heavily.

"Yet, when our entire culture shattered, you humans allowed us to come to you in droves. Gorge ourselves on your 'cruelty-free' meat. Indebt ourselves to you. Integrate in your territory. Be overseen, scanned, sorted, shipped off."

She raised her leg, the blinking band snug around her ankle. "Tracked. Studied. Imprisoned. Re-educated. How lucky for us, when our human 'allies' won't even give us a seat at the negotiation table they created."

"I have been waiting every day for the same demands I heard all my life. Demands of servitude and loyalty for the privilege of living." She let out a rumbling hiss from deep in her chest.

"I won't allow myself to be some kind of starving animal begging for scraps. Never again. To make sure I wasn't being…tamed, I refused to eat until I decided to. Rations only. Food to survive. Enough to live, until I was free of any hint of influence."

"I refused anything I felt was a temptation. Gifts and tributes. Offers from any, including other arxur. Solitude was…is safer. The exchange makes requests, or 'suggestions.' But they are just orders. Ones that cannot be refused without losing face, or a ploy to demand favor in return. And favors are dangerous things to owe."

Callie shook her head. "But I wasn't trying to push food and stuff on you. It's just fun to go out and eat. To relax and get to—ah, shit." The human took off her glasses and massaged her eyes. "But the whole time you were worried about—

"Oh God, of course you were. You've been living through hell. Every arxur was scraping by, competing for food, out to…to get each other. Trying to catch any slip-ups and "defects" to claw a little more for themselves. Why the fuck would you think everything would magically get better?"

Rasvai stared. The human had unearthed her underlying worries just like that? How could Callie have possibly known—

You idiot! Worthless fool! You just had to open your mouth and let your defective thoughts out again, didn't you? Now they're going to get rid of you! Should've just slept in your fancy bed like a good slave.

Callie blew out a breath. "Rasvai, I'm so sorry. It's awful you thought all that, but…also really smart. You should be one of Isif's advisors, seriously! And I bet nothing I say would reassure you, huh? It's just too convenient. Too unbelievable that anyone would just…help you."

Rasvai remained silent. Her stomach churned the rich meal within it. She'd stupidly revealed she knew too much. There was only one thing to do with anyone like that.

"You're suspicious and you should be! We're all so fucking terrible!" The arxur flinched as Callie laughed, wiping an eye.

"I bet no one told you that in the first months of integration talks, a whole section of 'experts' demanded we put tracking implants in every arxur that came to Earth. This other crazy politician group pushed this whole bill about shock collars that'd trigger if your heart rates spiked too high. One pharma-backed psycho recommended having sedatives on hand that could be…" She trailed off as she saw the arxur's wide-eyed stare.

"Yeah. But the rest of us shut all that talk down hard. Whenever someone mentioned shock collars, or muzzles, or anything else crazy inhumane, the Advocates said the same thing." Callie scooted closer to the tense arxur. "You're people. You deserve dignity and you need help, not more…fucking oppression."

Callie fished a small chain from around her neck. "Rasvai, I don't want to hurt you. I'm not here to be your minder or spy on you. I'm here to help you navigate all this…new stuff."

"I'm here so you have someone who's not a government-appointed worker to talk to. Someone on your side. I'm just some twenty-eight-year-old gal who wanted to meet an alien. I'm someone you can talk to, and trust."

"But trust is a two-way street."

Callie held the necklace out. "Some arxur have…episodes. The exchange has had incidents before. A lot of the time it's not their fault. They get overwhelmed or…I dunno." She sighed. "Just because you're empathetic enough to pass the screening doesn't mean you can't be violent. Trauma is hard to deal with."

"The exchange gave me this. It's a panic alarm for if you acted like…violent. But I don't want it. You should have it instead." She gently curled the arxur's claws around the small chain. "I trust you not to maul me, Rasvai. All I want is for us to be friends. Okay?"

Rasvai's mind raced as she held the small trinket. It was an alarm? What other secret contingencies were in place? By revealing this, was Callie distracting her from something even greater? Dammit, she still hadn't properly checked her room. The scent of any meddling humans would probably be gone by now. She…she…

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She was so exhausted. So tired of feeling like she'd be slaughtered for a single misstep. She sagged in her chair.

Callie smiled, misreading her posture as a sign of relief. "The Arxur deserve a second chance. It's all just—"

“No we don’t,” Rasvai snarled, squeezing the chain in her hand. Her bitter, self-loathing fury practically flooded the room. The dim backlighting from the curtained windows cast her baleful red eyes and hateful snarl with a glint of pure, predatory malice. “You don’t believe that. That’s why you’re culling us. Slowly. Secretly. You think I don't understand the way things work?”

Callie drew back in shock. “What? Rasvai, we’re not culling anyone! The integration screenings cut through all the quackery and nonsense from the Federation and Dominion. That's all!”

“The arxur rejected from your territory still die. Killed by loyalists as traitors. Conscripted by warlords. Dragged back into their old ways, despite Isif's promises and efforts for reform. Taken by Ex-Federation members for revenge. Thousands just…vanish!"

"Those that aren't killed join some roving mercenary outfit—somewhere monsters are celebrated instead of punished. Used as bloody, vicious pawns all over again!” Rasvai slammed her fist against the cushions.

“Are you scared that’s going to happen to you?” Callie asked, gently. "It's not, Rasvai."

“Why not? What was once defective is now desired. Before…with Betterment, we…” Whatever the arxur was trying to express fell to pieces. She fell silent.

“Rasvai, they lied to all of you. The Dominion—"

"I know they lied!" The arxur snarled. "It was never anything but lies! But I swallowed their lies all my life because I wanted to eat! To not have my throat cut, or my skull smashed, or allow some fervor-filled Betterment agents to…" Rasvai bit back her next words and slowed her furious breathing.

She let out a scornful growl. “If I wasn’t defective…I would have lived a far better life on Wriss. I would have done my duty. Eaten the new rations and grumbled about our pride as predators. That the lack of cruelty was making us soft. I would've been…”

Her eyes flashed. “But what happens when Isif decides the cruel don’t deserve a place in his regime? The defects I have mean I would survive that cull, even though I would've already been dead for revealing them."

"Across Arxur space, Usliff’s True Hunt is growing. It might rival Isif's Coalition one day. He claims to welcome all arxur, defects or not. But he demands loyalty and zealotry and is ready to settle into an endless cold war against the entire galaxy. Like in our past. The same conflict that invited…" She looked around the apartment. “Alien meddlers. The same type of conflict that led us here.”

Rasvai let out a chilling laugh. “So? What do I do to survive the next cull? What is the defect, and what is the True Arxur way? How do I conduct myself? Where do I pledge my loyalty? What do I do?” She hunched, curled tight as if defending from unseen blows. "In the end I…threw away my loyalty. Fled like…" She let the words die in her throat.

Just like your pathetic, cowardly Father. That waste of scales that filled your soft little skull with weak, pathetic nonsense instead of teaching you to be strong. What it takes to survive. The same defect who left you to save his scales.

The arxur withdrew into herself. Sitting in empty, stoic silence.

Callie spoke hesitantly. “I-I think you’re free of all of that. It’s all going to be okay.” Callie shifted in her seat. “Hey.” Rasvai's eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to the human. “Thanks for sharing all that with me, Rasvai. Really.”

The arxur curled a lip into a snarl as she realized how weak she seemed. She puffed out her chest, lashing her tail, regaining her prideful posture.

“Bah. Pointless whining. Scars are nothing but lessons the body holds for the mind.” She fought the instinct to touch the marks dug into her shoulders. "No matter where I go, I am beholden to some authority. That is life."

"Yeah," Callie said with a sigh. "What do arxur usually do to take your mind off that stuff?" The arxur stared. "To…relax, you know? Have fun?"

Torture and eat prey. Torment the local defectives and weaklings to feel superior. Fight and compete over pointless status. Find some sterilized tail-twirler and tempt them with a few morsels of hide or scraps of flesh to…

Rasvai stared at the carpet. "The Dominion allowed little time for leisure. Being judged for merit was everything. There was constant competition for standing. When finished with our assigned duties, we would toil on some task or other so we might receive more consideration for rations. Besides that, broadcasts passed the time. Messages from the Prophet Descendant, military material, or…Betterment."

"You said you did broadcasting back in the Dominion too, right? What kind of stuff did you make? Is anything like what we have?"

Rasvai sat silently, claws curled into fists, hunched in her seat with renewed tension. "I read reports and studied manuals. I followed the dictates of my superiors. Captured and packaged what was ordered with the broadcasting equipment. My work was...propaganda," She spat, trailing off.

"Oh," Callie said. "Like…bad stuff?" The arxur hesitated. Then she nodded, slowly. "I'm sorry, Rasvai. You can do all kinds of stuff to relax, now. Whatever you want."

Rasvai averted her eyes. "You said something about books in your message? Most are 'stories,' yes? Fanciful lies meant to entertain?"

"Yeah! I can recommend some if you like." The arxur hissed out a doubtful sound. "Well, there's all kinds of stuff to watch and read. Nothing like a good story for getting your mind off your troubles."

"I don't understand. What use is wasting your time with such…falsehoods?" the arxur scoffed.

"'Cause it's entertaining. Even if it's not real, you can still get invested—hell, sometimes you get even more invested because it's not real. You get to think about the characters, the world, the plot. All the details and drama. If their creators do good enough, you can't think about anything but. It lets you explore your feelings and…I dunno. It's just fun." The human shrugged.

"Delusional nonsense. How typical of humans," Rasvai grunted.

"Imagination." Callie grinned, sweeping her hand out, fingers twirling. "If you wanna try and unwind, let's watch something! Bet that'll change your tune."

The arxur rose. "I am not interested in such things. And I still have work tasks to complete—"

"Ahhh screw that! You have months to figure things out." Callie flapped a hand. "You're working at LBN, right? Then let's watch some trashy TV. Trust me—that's plenty of work!"

Rasvai remembered the binder of technical manuals and reference material waiting in her room. Buckling down to decipher it sounded…less than appetizing. And Mike did say she had the next month to familiarize herself with human standards.

The arxur hissed, then sank back onto the couch. "Fine. I will watch one of your broadcasts. To understand what sort of footage my superiors expect me to prepare. Today was…needlessly confusing."

"That's the spirit! Seems like a good time to order some dinner, too. I'm pretty hungry." Callie craned to look over her shoulder. "We could consider tonight your welcome dinner. Get some takeout delivered? My treat?"

Rasvai licked her lips. "If it is like that pork then perhaps I could…eat another portion."

"Great!" Callie stood. "I'll grab the delivery menus the exchange dropped off." She offered the arxur the remote as she passed. "Flip through a few shows and see if anything grabs you. If not, we can just close our eyes and pick at random."

"A-alright." The arxur awkwardly tapped at the flimsy buttons with her claws.

Numerous titles, descriptions, and ratings filled her vision as everything clamored at once for her attention. Flicking her gaze across the offerings, something called Our Stars Dark Horizons stood out thanks to a cosmic-themed background in a sea of brighter colors.

Selecting it displayed a more focused page. Strange, human-like figures were presented in a loose cluster. Their features were shaped in various monstrous imitations of the Terrans. Each…creature was outnumbered by more normal-looking humans. All clutched each other tightly. One pair was even doing the odd…mouth-joining thing that signaled human affection.

What was it called? Kissing? The arxur looked closer. Such an odd activity. She wondered exactly how—

A shudder of frigid disgust ran down her spine.

Her head and neck were submerged in freezing water, the same frigid spray that left her shivering desperately. She coughed and gasped as her head was jerked up and she was allowed to breathe again, wrists yanking against her shackles without progress as she choked up water.

The screen flickered, harsh and bright in her eyes. Images. Video.

The cruel voice snarled. "Do you like what you see? Of course you do. You worthless, disgusting, defective—"

The arxur hissed, heaving the memory away, trying not to let herself tremble as her stomach roiled with echos of terror and disgust. She fought down the urge to vomit that had been gouged into her mind. Clenching her jaws, she twisted her tail so tightly in her claws that she was in danger of drawing blood.

Fucking childish coward. Put your tail down girl—or are you still some mewling hatchling? You're a disgrace to our kind. Pull yourself together!

She released her tail, hunching lower, shifting her gaze habitually to the ground.

The overhead light clicked on.

Callie was standing over her. Looming. Better than her. Holding her fate in her little soft digits and lying like all the rest. Trying to get her to slip up and drop her guard.

"So these two places come recommended—you did just eat, though. But if you're feeling full, you can always toss the leftovers. Waste a little food, who cares!" She laughed.

Forced nausea filled her to the point she lost control. She vomited, the chunks of half-digested meat passing in a slurry of bloody bile. The pain of her bruised body made each heave even more painful.

The hissing laugh rang out again over her coughs. "Wasting rations? Here I thought you wanted to live. Or would you rather go back to starving?"

The instinct to lash out in fury nearly overwhelmed her. Rasvai's chest squeezed so tightly she could scarcely breathe as she drew tense, about to seize the looming shape and—and—

The cool metal of the necklace pressed against her scales.

"I trust you not to maul me."

Rasvai inhaled sharply, turning her lunge into a slow, shaking stretch in her seat. She jerked her tail in the affirmative, stonily accepting the pamphlets being offered. She stared down at them, pretending to read.

The fit of emotion passed slowly. Too much to swallow all at once—she had to tear her pain to pieces and choke each bit down. Slowly. Silently. Stoically. Filling the dark pit inside to the brim.

Eventually, the storm of smothered rage passed. The sharp edges of her memory dulled. A familiar ache settled in her chest. The empty, cold numbness was almost a relief.

She had to be strong. She had to survive. Otherwise…what had it all been for?

"Callie?" Rasvai asked once she was sure her voice was steady again. She blinked, the words onscreen almost nonsensical.

"Yeah?" the human replied. The human followed the arxur's gaze to the screen. "Oh, I've heard this is…I mean, it's a pretty paint-by-numbers soap opera. Typical character drama. But the writers tried to keep things interesting, and the effects are decent. It's watchable."

The human turned to catch Rasvai's bewildered stare. She laughed. "Oh yeah. This'll be the perfect exposure to the excesses of modern network television. Good pick." Callie kicked her feet up.

At a loss—and unwilling to plunge back into the sea of choices—the arxur hit play.

A string of characters was introduced with enough strange names and titles to be needlessly confusing. They spoke at length, back and forth, forging alliances and revealing allegiances. Fake locations from space mixed and mingled with falsified Earth factions, as Callie explained.

Then, several of them had a nonsensical fight with impractical weapons over a pointless bauble. That was followed by a rapid-fire trial of some kind that ended when a shuttle crashed into the building. A trio of false deaths caused two real ones—offscreen, at that—only to have one of the slain be revealed as a nefarious copy brought about by some sort of insane…nonsense and the real character was apparently…fine?

By the time the credits rolled, the arxur was reeling. Doubly so when she saw a familiar name scroll by under Senior Broadcasting Technician. Also…Digital Effects Artist? She grumbled.

Such mastery of his craft, and for what? The entire pursuit was the definition of pointless. It was a confusing mess. A waste of time and effort the likes she'd never even conceived. The humans really were all defective freaks.

But they knew how to prepare a meal. She dropped another morsel of "stir-fried beef" on her tongue, savoring it slowly.

"So what do you think? Next episode?" Callie asked, speaking through a mouthful of noodles.

"Rhhgg…if you must," the arxur sighed, licking the thick, flavorful sauce from her claws. She settled back, resigning herself to the human's company and the theft of her otherwise quiet evening.

Maybe human broadcasts weren't so bad.