Campfires are a tradition which span all Senate species; in hindsight this shouldn't be surprising. Even given their much longer history, at one time the xenos were primitives with only fire to give them warmth during a cold autumn night. Thus they all felt a nicely primitive thrill at 'roughing it', even if it was now an era of FTL travel and galaxy-spanning civilizations.

Jason had just discovered, however, that there was one particular human ritual associated with a nice roaring campfire of which his shipmates were completely ignorant.

"[What do you mean, [scary] stories?]" Hn'narnatnss (AKA Henry) coiled himself a little closer to Jason with a puzzled cant to his hood. The giant Jornissian looked in confusion at the others gathered around the fire. To a xeno that fire probably looked like a small blaze, but to Jason it looked more like a precursor to Burning Man.

Gngnra-of-Hnarh (AKA Gertie) and Kn'na''nan (AKA Karl) looked at their small shipmate in a confusion equal to Henry's. The four of them had decided to spend their precious shore leave on Ngnran-Three by getting the hell away from everyone else on the ship. It wasn't that they disliked the other crew, it was just the inevitable result of being shut up in a metal can with the same people for months on end. Fortunately the quartet all liked each other's company enough to make this outing feel like a vacation with good friends and not a 'mandatory work fun time' bit of dreariness.

Jason raised an eyebrow at his shipmates. "You don't tell each other spooky stories around a campfire? But...but this is the perfect time!" He waved an arm at the surrounding forest, now invisible in the darkness surrounding their little bubble of light and heat. "There could be anything out there, that's what makes it so great!"

Gertie rippled her upper teeth together as she pondered the statement. The resulting fusillade of clicking sounded to Jason like a dolphin declaring eternal vengeance upon a sworn enemy. "[But this planet has been thoroughly explored. There's no large predators, at least not on this continent.]"

Henry's hooded head darted in an almost-full 360 degrees as he took in their environment; the snakelike alien’s movement reminded Jason of a famous bit from 'The Exorcist'. "[My senses extend well into the infrared, so if there is anything sneaking up on us I'd see them.]"

The Dorarizin planted her fists on the ground. The gesture made her muscled and furry shoulders swell. "[And if any such things do appear, we can easily protect you.]"

"[We certainly can!]" piped Karl with typical Karnakian enthusiasm. The sickle-like claws on his feet twitched as if preparing to disembowel any hapless intruder.

Jason realized he'd stumbled upon another cognitive blind-spot of his alien friends. He pondered how best to proceed as he took another sip of not-cider. It was some sort of unpronounceable Karnakian drink, tasty and certified safe for humans but also alcoholic as all get-out; he'd found out the hard way that one could get drunk off one's ass without realizing it. For that reason he was sipping, not gulping.

"Let's back up. Do you have a fight-or-flight response? Sorry if that term doesn't translate."

"[It does...mostly]", replied Karl. The giant raptor's four eyes narrowed in thought. "[You mean an instinctual response to danger?]"

"Yeah, that. I mean, let's say something surprises you with an attack. What do you do as an instinct?"

"[We scream and leap at the threat,]" said Karl. His rear claws twitched again for emphasis.

"[We roar a challenge and crouch to attack,]" added Gertie. Her broad frame swelled even broader as she demonstrated the correct posture.

By now Henry had pressed himself right up against Jason. The human had spent enough time around aliens to know that Jornissians were notorious heat-thieves, but there was something in the set of Henry's hood that made him realize that the contact was intended as protective and comforting rather than just a standard heat-seeking cuddle. "[As for us, we coil and make ready to strike,]" said Henry.

Karl tapped a clawed finger on his very long chin. "[From your description, I assume that [humans] do not simply attack when unexpectedly threatened? It's more complex?]"

Jason sighed and took another sip of not-cider. "Yeah. As usual for humans, it's kind of a mixed bag. Our instinct knows that there's animals out there that can kill us, but sometimes it's the other way around or there's nowhere to flee to. So we have to decide in a split-second whether or not if we should attack or if we should run." He looked around once more at the darkness pressing in around their fire. In spite of knowing that he was safe and with three good friends who could utterly annihilate anything this planet's biome could throw at them, the human gave an involuntary shudder.

Henry pressed more firmly against Jason and tilted his hood the other way. "[What does this all have to do with [scary] stories?]"

"Because when humans get that fight-or-flight response our body dumps a lot of chemicals into our bloodstream. Adrenaline for starters, plus I'm sure there's a bunch of others that I'm forgetting. The sensation can be...kind of addictive."

Karl perked up his snout. "[Ah!]" The Karnakian sounded even more happy now that he'd figured it out. "[So [humans] tell each other tales of simulated attacks, so that they can trigger this addictive response?]"

Jason realized that description made his species sound like insane junkies, so he tried to walk it back a bit. "That's a minor reason for their popularity. They can also act as cautionary tales, since a lot of 'em revolve around some jerk getting what's coming to them. Ya know, say someone is responsible for someone else's death but nobody knows...until the person killed comes back as a ghost!" He threw his arms up and out, his hands reaching like claws. "Ooooooh! You killed me, and now I'm gonna getcha! That kind of thing."

Gertie relaxed back on her haunches, a similar look of relief and understanding on her features. "[We have something that might be similar, but we call them [attack-stories]. Does that translate properly?]"

Jason felt a wave of relief upon realizing that he and his crewmates were more similar than he thought. "Yeah, mostly." Then he realized that he might have been misunderstood after all. "Er, who do you use as antagonists in those stories?"

The Dorarizin's puzzled green eyes flicked around at her larger compatriots in a silent plea. "[A bigger or more capable Dorarizin, of course. What are you driving at...?]"

"Then that's an action story, not a horror story. We have action stories too, and they do make us excited but not in the same way as horror. A proper scary story has something supernatural attacking you, something you can't just beat up or shoot full of holes."

His three crewmates stared at him in puzzlement, and Jason almost wilted under that disbelieving triple glare. But he rallied and tried to explain himself. "I know it sounds nuts, right?" Jason pointed into the darkness. "If it was noon, where we could see around us, then talking about ghosts and ghouls would feel stupid. But now? We can't see out there, which makes it seem more plausible, at least to our hindbrains."

"[The day/night cycle of this planet has no bearing on reality,]" said Henry.

Jason blew out an exasperated breath. "No, you don't get the point. Of course there's no actual danger..."

He was interrupted in turn by Gertie raising a finger. "[Oh! I see it now! By making the threat something you can't destroy, you only leave the option of running away!]"

The human shrugged. "Eh, that's close enough. I know you guys don't think of such things. You don't imagine that kind of danger because, well, because you are that kind of danger. Apex predators and all that, right?" He treated himself to a moody sip of not-cider and was startled to feel Henry's scaly hand rest on his shoulder.

"[Will you tell us such a story, my friend?]"

Jason thought for awhile on the request. There was something he could tell them, something weird that had happened to him before he'd come on board the ship. However, it was way too strange a story to just spring on them all at once. Maybe he should lead up to it....

Yes, he should lead up to it; not to mention this was a prime opportunity for a deeper glimpse into the aliens' various psyches. "Tell you what. Now that you've got the idea, why don't each of you try and tell a scary story? I'll go last." He pointed across the campfire to Karl. "You go first."

The Karnakian started upon seeing the (relatively) small finger pointed in his direction, then fidgeted his claws together. "[Well, I don't know if I could do it right...]"

Jason replied with his warmest smile. "Sure you can! I have faith in you. Just think of someone you can't destroy or kill and make them the bad guy. Or, like I said, you could tell a story about somebody being bad and getting their comeuppance from something supernatural."

"[Sorry, what is [come-uppance]?]"

"Er, karmic retribution?"

Karl straightened up, grinning with a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs. "[Oh I understand that! Oh yes, I know the perfect tale for that concept!]" The big raptor hunched closer to the fire, a motion which made all three of his companions mimic the maneuver.

"[This,]" said Karl in a near-whisper, "[is the story of the Karnakian who had only three eyes...]"

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KARL'S TALE: THE THREE-EYED KARNAKIAN

You already know that we Karnakians have a sense which none of the other sapient race possess. Our rear set of eyes can see a part of the electromagnetic spectrum which in turn allows us to see the neural activity of other beings. The specific way in which our rear eyes can accomplish this is well understood scientifically.

What isn't understood is how our brains then take that input and turn it into what we call 'soulsight'. If I had a [pet cat] or something similar in front of me, I could see the patterns of its brain activity but it would not look...soulful. Yet the three of you, my fellow sapients, your souls burn bright and lovely in my eyes. I can't explain it any better than that, any more than any of you could describe a color to a blind person.

This much is known, if not understood. What isn't as well known is that we need both of our rear eyes to have that soulsight function. If we lose one of them, either due to accident or disease, then our ability to view sapient souls goes away. We can still see neural activity, but it becomes just a...well, just so many dancing lights.

Far back in our distant past, a few genetic defects caused this unfortunate condition. One of the great triumphs of science was in forever erasing those traits from our genome. Still, over the millennia since then there have been a few unfortunate souls stricken with this malady. Most of them are able to cope with the loss and go on to lead almost normal lives.

But the Karnakian in this story, N'knn'il, was not one of them. He was born with the normal number of eyes but he was also haughty and prideful even in his youth. He would argue with anyone about religion, in particular the Karnakian's place among the other species.

This was during the time just after our meeting the [Jornissians]. We had already made contact with the [Dorarizin] and knew that they did not possess the same 'soulsight' which we had; the religious meaning of this discovery was a matter of great debate among our most exalted Sacred Paths.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

When it turned out that the [Jornissians] did not possess 'soulsight' either it caused an even hotter round of debates among ourselves. Was our ability a mere accident of evolution, or did it signify something more? Did it mean that we were meant to be first among sapients, or perhaps that we'd been chosen to be spiritual guides to the other races?

N'knn'il's view was in the 'soulsight is an accident' camp, but to more of an extreme than anyone else. His viewpoint was so extreme, in fact, that he denounced the very Diarchy itself as a dead-end evolutionary path, a mere vestigial and primitive government that should be excised so that Karnakians could properly progress in a purely agnostic universe.

As you can imagine, insulting the Diarchy in public is the gravest of crimes among us Karnakians, short of things like actual murder. For this most serious offense N'knn'il was made to do a most grievous penance; he was isolated in a small cell for [years], provided with only the thinnest gruel for nourishment.

This punishment did not have the desired effect.

Instead N'knn'il became more bitter during his confinement, more convinced than ever that he was correct. He grew to hate his fellow Karnakians and thought of them as mindless fools. After many [years], he formulated a plan to escape. The guards bringing his food had grown careless, and he had seen an opportunity in their regular pattern of delivery and retrieval.

But that opportunity would require him to take a sapient life. Several lives, in all likelihood. And that is something my species abhors....

I see that smug smile, friend [Jason], and I know what you're thinking. But you surely know that our, er 'invasion' of your planet was only due to a great misunderstanding. Once we realized our error we took great pains to avoid hurting your kind, even at the cost of our own lives. And yes, our kind has waged religious wars against ourselves in the past. But they were always short and always with a view to have as few casualties as possible.

This is even true during our ancient history, when fighting was done claw-to-claw. I have been unfortunate enough to see good friends die; space is an unforgiving environment even at the best of times. It is horrible beyond telling to see a soul which you love snuffed out like a blown candle. But now imagine that you are the one doing the snuffing...yes, I see the comprehension in your eyes. As I said, our wars are always short.

Back to N'knn'il and his quandary. He could escape the confinement that he deemed unjust, but it would require doing something abhorrent to our species. That quandary ate away at his very soul for another [year], and at the end of it he came to a horrid decision. He took his claw and...plucked out one of his rear eyes...

I'm all right, friend [Jason], thank you for your concern. As you can all appreciate, it's a most upsetting thought to any Karnakian. You know the myriad sensations that come from your eyesight; imagine deliberately blinding yourself and taking away of all that richness simply out of spite.

As terrible as it was, N'knn'il's blinding had the desired effect. The next time the guards arrived they no longer registered to him as soulful beings; instead they were mere animals and only fit for slaughter. He sprang into action, killing the two guards at his cell door without a thought. The trail of destruction he left behind during the rest of his escape was equally bloody. Nine Karnakians dead, ten more permanently crippled...and then N'knn'il simply vanished.

He remained at large and unseen for a long time, in spite of a massive search. After a while it was thought (or, more properly, hoped) that he'd succumbed to an infection from his self-inflicted injury and died in some out-of-the-way star system.

But after a [decade] N'knn'il returned, and when he did there was even more blood and pain than when he'd made his original escape. He was now a pirate captain with a stolen ship and a crew of [Dorarizin] and [Jornissian] criminals. The first attack was horrible enough; after boarding and killing any who resisted, the three-eyed pirate hunted among the survivors for any Karnakians. Finding none, he threw his captives out of the airlock without a second glance.

His next attack, however...there were three Karnakians among the prisoners. N'knn'il made those three watch as he spaced the others of their crew. Then he had them tied up after which he...blinded them, clawing out one of their rear eyes in the same way as he'd done to himself. He left them alive, telling them that they were the privileged first few of a new Karakian race.

After that...well, if [N'knn'il] attacked you then you fought to the last. Because the alternative was either death by vacuum or, if you were a Karnakian, something akin to a living death.

The Diarchy threw what resources they could into trying to capture or destroy this fiend, but N'knn'il was the most perfect blend of cunning, vicious, and fanatical. He avoided every trap, every fleet. This was in the days before the Senate, so what help came from the other races was disjointed at best.

As if it couldn't get more horrible, one of the Karnakians whom N'knn'il had blinded became just as insane as the self-styled 'liberator' of the Karnakians. That particular doomed soul was named R''ttt'kar, a large and strong Karnakian who became N'knn'il's second-in-command. Within [months] this wretch's cruelty became almost as feared as that of N'knn'il himself.

N'knn'il grew bolder still. He now had a much larger ship, a fanatically loyal crew, and the giant figure of R''ttt'kar at his right hand. Hence he started raiding colonies. Four of them fell, and the fanatics left terrible slaughter or painful, soul-crushing blindness in their wake...until they came to Krr'ill'nan.

Today Krr'ill'nan is a monastery asteroid, famed for producing some of the most insightful Karnakian scholars and sages in the entire Diarchy. But back in that time it was a small outpost with only a single aged Karnakian monk who had shut herself away in holy sequestration. Her name has been lost to the ages, and there are no official records of her existence. Apart from the monk the asteroid held a handful of her followers, there only to tend to her needs.

N'knn'il had heard tales of this holy woman and his claws itched to blind this Karnakian, to strip her of her false piety and show her the true animal nature of the world. He and his crew attacked Krr'ill'nan with more than their usual ferocity, killing the Karnakians there instead of blinding them.

The three-eyed Karnakian set himself at the forefront of the carnage, shooting and slashing down any resistance, until at last the raiders fetched up against the large double doors which led to the asteroid's inner sanctum and to his chosen prey. Those doors were welded shut, with only a small slit at the bottom to allow for food to pass through.

Within a few minutes he and his crew turned those same doors into so much scrap. N'knn'il told most of his followers to wait as he strode with gleeful anticipation up the long corridor, with only R''ttt'kar at his side to bear witness.

The inner sanctum reminded him of the cell he'd occupied during his long imprisonment. It was carved out of the nickel-iron of the asteroid itself, forming a cubical space lit with electric torches. There was a bed, a toilet, a source of water...and that was all. At the center of the cell was something he didn't expect; a large rough-hewn block of granite with a small chunk of quartz crystal on top.

N'knn'il indicated to his second that he should wait at the entrance, then continued his confident stride into the chamber. He stopped and waited for the cell's occupant to acknowledge his presence.

The holy woman was an aged Karnakian; once upon a time her feathers must have been the brightest electric blue. But now they were faded to the color of the sky at the horizon. It was clear she was close to the end of her life, but in spite of the weight of her age she knelt upright and proud on the floor at the opposite side of the granite block. She looked upon the intruders with a gentle smile.

When she spoke, her voice was hoarse from lack of use. "|Greetings. I've been expecting you.|"

N'knn'il snorted. "|I don't doubt it. You must have heard us killing your friends out there. And you can save your greetings, you superstitious fool. You know why I'm here. Surely you've heard of me, even shut away in here?|" He puffed out his chest in smug triumph.

Her slight smile didn't falter. "|Yes, but not from those you've just butchered. I learned of you from this.|" The holy woman gestured with one wing-arm at the crystal in front of her. Its facets were polished to a mirror finish but otherwise the quartz had remained uncut.

The pirate laughed. "|Oh, I'm sure it told you.|" He leered back at his number two. "|You see? This deluded idiot has been alone for so long that she's taken to talking to rocks!|" N'knn'il turned back to the monk and took a step forward, stretching out a talon. "|One little slash,|" he crooned. "|One little teensy-tiny little slash and then we'll see how well you can commune with minerals!|"

The holy woman tilted her head as her crest remained in a neutral position, indicating her utter lack of fear. She looked almost as if she was examining some fascinating insect. "|The eyes are nothing. Our true sight comes from within. Blinding me will do nothing.|"

N'knn'il's feral grin increased in intensity. "|Feh, you're already blinded by your faith. You and your kind shut me away rather than hear the truth! You all shut me away to ROT!|" His voice pitched up into a scream at the last word.

The monk sighed. "|I had nothing to do with your punishment. It's unfortunate that the Diarchy didn't send you to me rather than sequester you. I could have taken you under my wing. I could have shown you the right way, the kind way, but it's too late now. You're nothing but a willing slave to your lust for destruction. You tear down all around you and call it progress.|"

The pirate captain threw back his head and laughed. "|Blinded by faith indeed! Perhaps I'll render you fully sightless and keep you as a pet. It'll be amusing to watch you wander around and bump into walls while you burble your nonsense.|" He stepped around the quartz and brandished both his hands. "|Before I pass judgement on you, I'll give you one last chance,|" he sneered. "|Go ahead and sermonize to me. Show me what you would have done if I'd been delivered instead into your ‘tender’ care.|"

The monk stared back, still unafraid. "|Look into the crystal. Look with your other sight, the one you abandoned long ago. You will see something there.|"

N'knn'il's triumph faded into puzzlement. "|But I only have the one eye...|" He shook himself in irritation. "|Your solitude has driven you insane,|" he said as he swept a wing-arm at the quartz. "|That is a Diarchy-damned rock. Surely you're not claiming there’s any neurons in there?|"

"|Our second sight is not tied to mere neurons,|" replied the monk. "|It is intended to view something much more grand, a power which stretches out beyond all comprehension. Living beings are the most holy products of this power, hence they are the easiest for us to view.|" She leaned forward and patted the crystal fondly. "|But this? This is as much a part of the universe as you or I. You can see within it the same power which we see with our second sight; we call it 'brain activity' but it's something much more profound.|"

N'knn'il glanced at the rock, then looked away. "|Madness.|" But his voice was just a little less certain than before.

She leaned back. "|No, not madness. Even with your one remaining good eye, you too can comprehend this...power. The only challenge is to resist the temptation to look too deeply.|" Her smile widened, showing her teeth for the first time. "|Trying to see such an infinity with your finite brain? Now that would drive one mad. I can see why you're afraid.|"

N'knn'il's furious gaze bored into her. His ruined rear eye, now a knot of scar tissue, seemed to shine in the room's torchlight. "|I fear nothing!|," he rasped, then turned and focused that same stare onto the nearest quartz facet.

R''ttt'kar saw his leader's arms drop to dangle bonelessly. N'knn'il's head tilted as if trying to bring something more into focus. The second-in-command heard the faintest whisper from him.

"|Fascinating. It's...it's not a soul, but something else. What...what color is that? I have to see more...|" N'knn'il stepped towards the crystal, entranced.

R'ttt'kar shifted his attention to the monk, whose smile now looked downright evil. On instinct he snatched his sidearm from his holster and pointed it at the holy woman, who started laughing upon seeing the weapon's muzzle aimed at her. She said two final words.

"|Too late.|"

Just as R'ttt'kar's finger tightened on the trigger, N'knn'il let out a piping scream that made the big karnakian flinch. R'ttt'kar's shot went wide, the beam boring a hole into the nickel-iron wall next to the woman's head. Before he could correct N'knn'il staggered back from the crystal into his line of fire. His three eyes were wide, terrified.

"|Too big!|" screeched the pirate captain. His gaze lit on R'ttt'Kar, and before the other could react he sprang upon his comrade, clawing and slashing at the other's face. R'ttt'kar fought back in desperation, trying to keep the crazed Karnakain away from his head.

All the while N'knn'il kept screaming.

"|Too much! Too big! If we see to much, IT will notice! IT will see us! WE have to *stop seeing!*|"

R'ttt'kar was bigger, but the captain had the strength and speed of a demon. In a few more moments N'knn'il managed to claw out R'ttt'kar's other rear eye, and as the second-in-command reared back in pain the captain darted forward and bit out his throat.

N'knn'il's rampage didn't end there. He ran back up the corridor, blood streaming from his muzzle and R'ttt'kar's purloined gun clutched in one hand. All the while he screamed that everyone had to stop seeing lest they be doomed. His crew had no chance at all to react as their suddenly-crazed captain began slaughtering them all with guns, with talons...

...with teeth. With so many teeth...

When the relief force arrived at the outpost of Krr'ill'nan, they found the pirate ship gone. They also found no one left alive. In the following forensic investigation, the Diarchy used the outpost's internal cameras to piece together the events of the raid. They accounted for all the unfortunate disciples who had attended the holy woman. As for the pirate crew, all of their half-mangled corpses were duly catalogued and returned for burial to their respective governments. R'ttt'kar was burned as is our custom, but his ashes were scattered in secret in many different places in order to prevent any possible reincarnation of his soul.

They found the holy woman kneeling in front of a block of quartz, her wings folded serenely over her chest and her crest laid neatly back along her skull. Her four eyes still stared deep into the crystal's depths, and they were wide and unafraid. But she was quite dead, although there was no injury upon her and no disease or internal wounds that they could detect.

No trace of N'knn'il or his ship were ever found, and never again did he raid any ship or outpost. It was thought, or perhaps again hoped, that he crashed himself into the nearest star while in the depths of his sudden and inexplicable insanity.

But there are those who say he is still out there, cursed with immortality by whatever unimaginable power he witnessed. Thus cursed to never die, his screams resound forever louder as he stares out into an endless cosmos...

...an endless cosmos which stares back at him.