Memory Transcription Subject: Ensign Sifal, Arxur Dominion Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

“So I’m sorry,” I said, still chuckling to myself at this dumb-looking “sheep” creature, “let me make sure I understand this. Your main allies--which are, again, the fucking Venlil--they don’t just look like prey animals to you, they look specifically like a prey animal you already regularly eat? Is that correct?”

David shrugged, exhausted. “Technically they look like three prey animals we already regularly eat. Goats and alpacas just aren’t as common in this part of the world.” He fiddled with his holopad, ready to show me some more entertaining images. The alpacas, in particular, had a long neck that made them look nearly as tall as a Venlil.

I couldn’t stop laughing, so David just shrugged and continued. “So yeah, the market for lamb--that’s specifically juvenile sheep--just hasn’t been the same since first contact.”

That little tidbit was just strange enough to get me to calm down and think it over. “So sheep look like Venlil,” I repeated, “and you’re allied with the Venlil, so… now the market demand for lamb is down?” I squinted, the gears turning in my skull. “Was that like… a term of the alliance, or…?”

David rubbed his chin as he squinted back at me. I took one more blind shot, hoping I’d guess it. “You’re trying to be polite to the Venlil? It’s a bit of magnanimous cultural sensitivity to grease the wheels of diplomacy?”

David didn’t change his pensive expression for a solid moment longer. I didn’t guess it, I thought, bemused. He started fiddling with his holopad again, and showed me a short video montage of a very different animal this time. It was a large mammalian predator--bigger than I was, by a fair bit--with brown fur, forward-facing eyes, and a moderately prominent snout. Moderate compared to my maw, I should say. The video showed it in its natural habitat of forests and rivers, engaging in a mix of hunting, fishing, and foraging. Another omnivore, eh? I thought. Its teeth were far more massive than a human’s, though, and while it was mostly quadrupedal, it could rear up on its hind legs to make use of claws that exceeded my own.

“This is a brown bear,” said David. “It’s non-sapient, but it’s one of the most dominant apex predators on the planet. Like, even for us, fighting a bear is a grim prospect without a modern firearm.”

“They seem fun,” I said, already admiring the creature a bit.

David nodded. “Now, Sifal, I want you to imagine for a moment what the world might look like if this creature were sapient. Okay? The Arxur found a forested planet full of sapient bears. Those are your new allies! They’re happy to join you on your hunting raids against the Federation, you’ve got one or two posted on your ship to learn the ropes from you guys, and everything’s going great.” David flipped to a new image of the same creature but smaller and rounder. “This is a juvenile brown bear. A cub. Look at his cute little ears! The engineer who’s apprenticing under you--her name’s Grawr, and she’s a quick learner--showed you this picture of her son back home. He’s just learning to hunt, and his mom’s very proud of him.” David flipped to one last image, to a creature that looked nearly the same, albeit with far smaller claws and side-facing eyes. I felt my stomach suddenly start to twist. “And this is the Zurulian you’re having for dinner,” David said. “Grawr finds it pretty uncomfortable, though. How do you feel?”

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I looked at the Zurulian and my mouth watered. Of course it did. It was just my nature, after all: most species salivated reflexively to protect their throats before vomiting.

I doubled over and retched in disgust, clutching desperately at my left arm by the scar. I mustn’t waste food, I mustn’t waste food, I mustn’t--I jolted back up with a shock, and nearly knocked David over with my maw as I frantically searched for what hidden attacker had touched me. But it was just David, with his hand on my shoulder and a look of concern on his face. Even the two scouts looked alarmed, frankly. Fucking… empathetic monkeys! I growled mentally, but the tension was leaving my body. I breathed easier.

“You good?” asked David.

I nodded slowly, as I felt my heart slowly stop pounding. I kept breathing. “The Venlil. They’re your friends,” I said, and the word “friend” in my language suddenly had the awkward shape of a sound that had lost its meaning. Why do we Arxur even still have such a word? I wondered idly. “You don’t feel comfortable eating animals that look too much like your friends.”

“Got it in three,” David said, smiling a little sadly.

“I had a good hint,” I said, most definitely not pouting.

David laughed. “Alright. Well, have some water, and enjoy the tuna tartare. I’m gonna let the stew simmer a bit longer, and see if I can’t fast-track the rack of lamb. You seem to prefer your meat on the rare side anyway.”

I looked at him as he walked back towards the kitchen, feeling… Prophet, what was this? Worry? Concern? …Guilt? I was feeling something. “Look, if it bothers you, maybe I shouldn’t…”

David waved my concerns away. “It came from a lab, not a creature, and it’s just going to waste away in the freezer at this rate. Damn thing’s already dead; somebody should enjoy it.” He shook his head. “Besides, I’m a little morbidly curious--out of professional interest, and out of conscience--how much lamb tastes like Venlil. You’re the only person I know who can settle that bet.”

I knew what he meant: he wanted me to try a Terran dish, and comment on how it compared to the taste of his friends, but…. I don’t know what possessed me, but I reached into my rations pouch, pulled out a dried chunk of orange-tinged meat, and held it out to David as an offering.

“Whoa! What the fuck!” the two scouts shouted on top of each other, angry and horrified in turns. But I think I was back to not giving a shit about them. I stared at David, holding the piece of Venlil jerky out, and he just… silently stared back.

The silence dragged on until the taller scout broke it. “Oh Jesus Christ, why are you thinking about it?” he shouted at David.

“I think about lots of things,” said David, and the silence returned for an encore. Eventually, David spoke. “So… I don’t think I could ever cook a Venlil, any more than I could cook another human. And yes, I’m aware that lab-grown cell cultures, which can potentially be given consensually, make this a far more complicated and weird ethical dilemma than it used to be. And if I caught another human making, or even in possession of, Venlil meat, I’d probably call the cops immediately.” David sighed. “This is literally the only scenario I wasn’t prepared for. Sapient meat is still normal in your culture, even if we wish it weren’t, and I have no authority or power to stop you from having it. It’s there, you’re offering it to me, and I can’t stop you. So now what do I do?” David rubbed his chin again, lost in thought. “I’m still mostly revolted, but there’s a tiny seed of, like… fear of missing out.”

At last, though, David shook his head. “Nah, there’s… frankly, there’s just too much ethical baggage for me. I’m sorry. I genuinely appreciate the offer, Sifal--I know food isn’t easy to come by for you--but I have to decline.”

I nodded respectfully, and put the piece of his friend back in my pouch.