Memory Transcription Subject: Ensign Sifal, Arxur Dominion Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136

I poked idly at the tuna tartare, feeling miserable. It was delicious when I tried it--most of the Terran seafood had been loaded with flavor, and then seasoned further still with salty and tangy sauces--but my heart wasn’t quite in it at the moment. Stranger still had been the overwhelming kindness I’d been shown so far. This was the best I’d eaten in… well, ever, actually. The ever-present hunger I’d lived my whole life with was fading to background noise like a numbed wound. And David had just been so weirdly understanding through it all. He’d had some pointed things to say about the belief system I’d been taught as a child, sure, but he wasn’t judging me the way the other humans were.

Everything was great today, and yet I felt horrible. I felt ashamed for eating what were seen as people in David’s eyes, and as an Arxur, I felt ashamed for caring what he thought about me at all. What was I supposed to do with those feelings? I skewered another cube of seasoned tuna and popped it into my maw. As I chewed my fish and chewed my thoughts, the scouts chattered amongst themselves. The shorter scout kept insisting it was tuna poke, not tuna tartare, while the taller scout seemed largely ambivalent to the terminology.

“Needs a little citrus, but it still warms my Hawaiian heart,” said Charmaine, chomping away at the red cubes herself.

“I thought you said you were Filipino?” William asked, clearly favoring the shrimp cocktail.

“There are a lot of Filipinos in Hawaii, dude,” said Charmaine.

William’s face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disdain. “That’s like half the ocean away, though.”

Charmain smirked, and swiped an oyster. “Well, in my opinion, everyone who eats spam and eggs over rice is one people.”

The idea of a people united over a shared love of food sounded more appealing in that moment than eggs and tinned meat. Clearly, this planet was corrupting me. Well, in for a fawn, in for a buck. Should I stop using that metaphor? I can’t recall if Earth is allied with the Suleans or not.

“David, you said there were advantages to feeling like this?”

He looked up from studying the contents of one of his meat-warmers. “Hm? Feeling like what?”

My eyes flitted around nervously. I knew it was just us in here. I knew it for a fact. But my heart still raced with fear, like I was still expecting another Arxur leap out from hiding and catch me saying forbidden ideas aloud. “Like other people matter,” I said, the words coming out in a sickly croak.

David stood, and considered me, his eyes full of genuine concern. “You guys really aren’t allowed to show empathy?” I squeezed my eyes shut, and shook my head. “Not even for each other?” I shook my head harder. “Do you want a hug?”

I flinched a little. Can’t show ignorance. Can’t show weakness. “I don’t know what that is,” I forced myself to say anyway.

I gasped and opened my eyes. David had his arms wrapped around me and just… gently held me like that. He felt warm and soft. My own parents never held me like that. No one had, not ever. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much.

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“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m--”

“Shh,” said David. “It’s fine. Come on.”

“Please don’t--” I choked, crying, and had to start again. “I don’t wanna go back,” I said. I hadn’t cried in years. My aunt would hit me when I was wrong, and then she’d hit me harder when I cried, so I’d stopped crying. I still had scars from her claws. I told everyone on the ship that the scars were from a fight, but they weren’t. They were because I couldn’t learn how to behave myself. I didn’t even want to imagine what my Captain would do if he caught me crying. Probably make me bleed to death while everyone watched and laughed at me. “Can I stay here? Please. I won’t be a bother. I can be helpful! I’m an engineer, I can fix things, I can--”

“I don’t mind,” said David. He chuckled softly. “Most of my staff didn’t show up to work today. I probably need a few new hires.”

“Okay, no,” said William, standing. “I’m sorry, I have to cut this off. I’m sure the fucking CIA would throw a full-blown parade at the thought of getting to debrief an Arxur engineer, but we have no ability to process or protect defectors at this time.”

“Why not?” said David. I wanted him to keep hugging me, but he wanted to stand and face off against the Peacekeeper, so I let him go. “I’m a business owner. If it’s an immigration issue, I’ll sponsor her.”

“If it’s a--?!” William sputtered. “David, in case you’ve somehow forgotten, our entire species almost died yesterday to a Federation extermination fleet, and the only reason we’re still standing is because this ‘Chief Hunter Isif’ guy showed up, and he’s got ten times that kind of apocalyptic firepower parked in low-Earth orbit! Okay? Like, the only reason we’re not currently an Arxur vassal state is because this one space warlord fuckin’ feels like it! Moderately annoying him is an extinction-level threat, so no, we’re not doing this.”

“Okay, so Isif doesn’t have to know,” said David. “Like, I’d love to have her stick around, but if the problem is her presence being too obvious? Then I’m still calling bullshit. We used to make defectors disappear all the time back during the Cold War. Set her up on a chicken farm in Montana or some shit. Nobody has to know she’s here.”

William’s jaw dropped, and was rendered momentarily speechless. “That’s not a real thing! That’s the plot of fucking Red October!”

“It was based on a true story!” David shouted back.

“And if we were hiding an entire Arxur bomber crew that had mysteriously gone AWOL, that would be a believable story!” William retorted. “But the Chief Hunter is literally here in Brooklyn, right now! Okay? There is no possible version of events where he leaves with fewer soldiers than he landed with and just goes ‘Aw, shucks, them’s the breaks!’”

“We could fake her death?” David tried, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Charmaine shook her head, looking oddly contrite. “I’ve been standing between Sifal and panicky civilians all morning because even her death is something we can’t afford to explain away.”

“So what can we do to help her?” asked David.

William shook his head, and reached for his comms. “Above my pay grade, but I can call it in and ask.”

“Are you sure that line’s secure,” asked David, slowly, “even against the Arxur?”

William blanched, and stopped reaching for his comms. “No, I’m not sure.”

David turned to me, and looked me in the eyes. He looked so small and frail. They all did. Why was he trying to protect me? Why did he think he could? “Do you want to take that risk?” he asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut again, and shook my head.

“Okay,” said David. “Okay. Then… you need to do what you can to survive until we can meet again. Alright?”

I sniffled a little and nodded. “Can you show me how empathy helps?” I said. It only ever felt like a burden, but it was a burden I’d learned how to carry effortlessly before David got me thinking too hard about it. I wasn’t sure if I still knew how to endure it. “If I have to keep living like this, I need to know how to use it.” I came here in the first place looking for an advantage I could use against rivals among my fellow Arxur, and if I was going to survive, then I needed one now more than ever.