I insisted on downloading the data, preserving it. There’s a lot of it, almost a complete history of Revrell biological experiments. Not just videos for educational purposes but also detailed notes about how they did it. The whole thing is very arrogant, as if they know what’s best for the universe. They pretend as if they’re planning for some horrible event that will take place soon. In reality, they’re just playing as if they’re some kind of Gods and we’re all play things. Members of The Federation were part of this whole planning makes me sick.

Marshall is angry, pacing, occasionally destroying things. He always pauses before smashing something, as if he’s wondering if it might be some ticking time bomb of gene splicing The Revrell have made.

Downloading the data, I come across the communications module. The communications for the outside world were shut down from here. The jamming of local signals as well. I can reactivate it all with just a single motion.

“Hey Marshall,” I call for him. “Stop breaking stuff, you’ll want to see this.”

Marshall walks over, more stomping like an angry toddler. “What is it.”

“I can reactivate communications.”

“Do it, try to speak to the masses.”

I wait for everything to reconnect after turning it back on, “This is Duane Bishop of The Galactic Federation. I’m on the planet Romero, colony of Trellis. Can anyone hear me,” I wait for a response.

“This is Draven Adams of The Galactic Federation. We’re in route to Romero.”

I look to Marshall but he doesn’t speak, “We have your coordinates for evacuation. We’re currently stranded in the government building. Would you be able to divert? We have information about what happened here.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Just two.”

There’s a long pause where it seems the transmission ends before Draven speaks again. “We can send a small team to rescue. Send us your location.”

“Excellent, I’ll send a four-man team. They’ll meet you on the rooftop. Bring any data that you’ve collected.”

“Thank you,” I respond.

“No,” Draven pauses. “Thank you for your service to humanity, and The Galactic Federation.”

The transmission ends and Marshall waits a few more seconds, “don’t give him a damn thing,” he responds solemnly.

“What are you talking about,” I ask, slightly confused.

Stolen story; please report.

“He’s going to kill us the minute he gets his hands on the data.”

“Our mission was to find out what happened here. You were positive getting the information in this lab would be what we needed to complete the mission. Now you don’t want to turn it in and be done with it? We’re about to get off this planet.”

“I’m sure he’s going to kill us,” Marshall nods at himself.

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because I know Draven.”

“And you think he’s going to kill us?”

“Yeah, because he gets sent on missions that nobody else wants to go on. Missions where there are no survivors. Missions where they aren’t really missions and nobody knows about them.”

“That sounds absurd.”

Marshall starts to move through information on his wrist comp before projecting a picture of Draven with a list of text next to it. “I keep files on other commanders. You spend all your time in a lab but there are different factions in The Federation. I don’t mean simple Human, Qhex, Smilodonian factions and the like. There’s factions of expansionists, futurists, and so on. All working against each other to shape The Federation in their own image. Sometimes, there are secret battles between them. I don’t participate, but I keep track of who is in what faction. Draven doesn’t do survivors.”

Marshall seems serious, almost panicked. I have to consider he’s telling the truth, especially after what I heard in the videos. The Galactic Federation is huge, there’s thousands of members, multiple factions dealing in shady business wouldn’t be hard to believe. It also wouldn’t be hard to believe that one hand doesn’t know what the other is doing.

“What do you suggest we do?”

“They’re sending a ship,” Marshall grips his rifle, “I say we take it by force.”

“You’re suggesting we kill other members of the federation?”

“If we need to. What other choice do we have? Just die because they want to keep their dirty little secrets?”

“I just don’t know if I can keep killing people.”

“Then don’t think of them as people. They sent citizens here to colonize a trap. They watched and got updates about everything and did nothing to stop it. They blocked outside contact to keep it a secret. They knew we were walking into hell and they sent us anyway, as sacrifices for what they deemed the greater good. Now they’re sending a team to wipe out the survivors. These are not people, these are monsters, and monsters deserve to die.”

Marshall is right, but I can’t say that. My thoughts are elsewhere. I rush back to the terminal and begin keying in various codes. I want people to know what happened here. First, I send the data out to any connection on the planet. It’s easy to do, The Revrell don’t believe in privacy and the Federation forced everyone to register their wrist comps and neural implants. The people here deserve to know we were all pawns. Next I send them the location of the rescue, in the event that they are unaware of it. I want them to show up, angry. If we want to stand a chance, we’re going to need people, as many people as possible.

“What are you doing,” Marshall asks.

“We might die, but I want everyone on this planet to know what happened.”

Next I focus on trying to send out the information, hoping they haven’t set up any blocks beyond the current planetary system. I’ve got a few media contacts, personal contacts. I try to send it to all of them, along with a goodbye message. If I don’t make it out of here, I want people to know what happened to me. It’ll take a while for the messages to send, and I’ll never get any confirmation unless I get off this planet, but I want them to know I was here.

“You done,” Marshall asks as I turn off the terminal.

“Not by a long shot,” I prepare my own rifle. Marshall laughs at me. “What’s so funny at a time like this?”

“You said you weren’t the same guy I knew back in the academy, but here you are. The same guy I knew back in the academy.”

“Let it go already.”

“Whatever you say captain,” Marshall laughs again and heads towards an escalator.

I liked him better when he wasn’t stressed out making jokes and laughing.