Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Dominion Sector Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: December 12, 2136
A diplomatic resolution to the battle of Sillis didn’t solve all of my problems. Regaining organization, as well as finding places to pool a fleet without infrastructure, mandated a bit of time. Bringing Prophet-Descendant Giznel into the loop was also a priority; the last thing I wanted was Betterment breathing down my neck. The leader was chagrined by my unorthodox approach to disposing of Shaza.
With hostilities terminated and internal orders dispensed, I found an opportunity to slip away. The nearest dead drop location was a human module on the border of Yotul space, inside what was once Shaza’s sector. Nerves had gotten to me, since this was my first engagement with espionage. What was General Jones going to do with the information? Would humanity’s actions reveal me as the source?
Against my better judgment, I’d booted up a call with Felra during my travels. The Dossur seemed intrigued by my days-long absence from the messaging service, which I excused as “opposition from the UN military to a business proposal.” It was technically true. Our discourse had stretched into the late hours of the night, when she was forced to depart for a few winks. Rest wasn’t a terrible idea, though my own sleep was broken.
Felra couldn’t call during her shift as a mechanical inspector, though she texted the majority of the time. She was close to finishing her day’s work, and was eager to hop on a call afterward. I warned her that I had important matters to attend soon; my ship had Jones’ outpost in sight. However, as usual, the Dossur was unfazed by my excuses, and unrelenting in her demands.
You know I don’t usually respond this slow, Siffy, Felra texted. We have been swamped, with Sillis ships docking for repairs. I saw a real, live human at work today…many of them, by sneaking a peek at the “quarantined” lodgings. You guys are gigantic!
I snorted to myself. The Dossur was never short with the unsolicited details about her day-to-day activities. If she thought that humans were massive, an Arxur’s size would astound her. Despite our slouching posture, we could loom over the primates if we so desired. It mystified me how the Federation species could compare us and the Terrans, and see predatory features in the tree-dwellers.
Well, I suppose you should be working, not on here chatting, I answered back. Don’t get into trouble on my account.
The Dossur typed back furiously. For crying out loud, Siffy! Show a little curiosity. Ask some questions…if you’re interested in what I’m saying at all.
Fine. Did seeing the humans scare you, Felra?
Yes…please don’t be mad at me! I’m just being honest. I didn’t tell you this, but I’ve watched a lot of human media since I paired with you here. Your comedies are hysterical and outlandish, for one.
You only watched comedies?
I watched the first human to appear on a Venlil talk show too. Some actor; he played off what the host was saying without hesitation, read discomfort with ease, and made fun of himself. So natural, conversational, and charismatic. So…unlike you.
My paw nearly dropped the holopad, and I considered switching it off. Of course, I was nothing like the charming primates, with their smooth sociability and their empathetic capacity. I would be lucky to call myself a shallow echo of their personal depth. Perhaps it would’ve been possible for me to be a better Arxur, but the deeds I’d committed had hollowed out my defective side.
Had Felra figured out that I wasn’t a human at all? No, if she had ascertained that her internet friend was an Arxur, she would’ve cut contact. The Dossur was getting close to the truth, so I needed to deflect her attention.
I do not want to talk about me, I sent back.
You never want to talk about you! You won’t tell me one thing that’s real about you, or one thing that’s not wrapped in mystery. It’s like you think if you’re genuine, you’re going to scare me off. Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I’m a damn coward!
I do not think that, Felra. But I would scare you off, it is a fact. You said the humans you saw at work scared you.
I kept looking though! What absolute goofballs…the way they razzed each other was so juvenile. The more I looked, the more I thought you’re overgrown children. But not you.
I am not like them.
Answer me an honest question. Do you have predator disease? Don’t take that the wrong way. I’ve thought there are harmless strains of predator disease, which isn’t exactly a popular idea here.
Define predator disease.
You know…antisocial, violent, noncompliant, nonconformist, lacking a full range of emotions, or delusional? Some combo of those.
Those are unrelated attributes. You can call me nonconformist and leave it at that.
Okay, Siffy. I’m not judging you, I just want to get to know you. I want to understand you.
You cannot do either of those things! Don’t you get it? I am not a good person, Felra; I have thought about little but my own survival for decades. I’m not prepared to interact with people like you, or to censor myself as humans do.
I don’t want you to censor yourself. I think you are deeply unhappy and troubled. You don’t deserve to be alone…just open up to me, man. Ah shit, let me guess, now you’ll say you have to go?
I do. Guess you know me after all. Good-bye.
The way Felra peeled back my emotional layers, and hounded me for personal insights, left my defective side in a full-blown mutiny. I’d gotten too close to confessing the actual things I’d buried; speaking with the pesky Dossur was always a mistake, yet I kept doing it. What good would babbling about my feelings do, other than to let misery overtake me? It wasn’t like I could detail my life’s work, and the reasons why I acted this way, to her.
The rote actions of piloting the ship distracted me from the message banners accumulating on my holopad. It buzzed with an incoming call, as I descended toward the minimalist human station. Growling to myself, I took the device and shoved it back in the drawer. If I had any courage befitting an Arxur, I would delete that silly rodent’s contact info; no, I would remove the entire SwiftPair application.
Just take this stupid communique, and upload it to the blasted humans’ computer network. The Arxur’s future is relying on you, while you spend time caring about random prey you just met!
I jerked upright, as I realized which thought had crossed my mind. Caring about Felra was an unacceptable indulgence; that was the exact reason why leaf-licking races made illogical decisions for the preservation of one individual. Oftentimes, caring about another managed to get people killed, or cause grave detriment to their own lives. It was foolish weakness, and there weren’t even social benefits in my case.
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Docking was completed just outside the dead drop site’s sole entry. As I disembarked my ship, I was livid with myself. My claws swiped through the empty air, and my temper boiled inside of me. The fact was, even if I envied the humans’ illogical morality and society, I was not one of their kind. This weakness needed to be purged at once, before it ruined me.
“Fucking Tarva, with her stupid ideas. Oh, I really need a friend,” I ranted to myself.
The airlock hissed open at my arrival, granting me access to the one-room space station. I’d stormed through the docking tunnel in a haze, and I couldn’t wait to return to my ship. The point of my operation was to end the cruelty and starvation of my people. Revealing Giznel’s plot was a way to up the ante; it could stoke the flames of open rebellion. The data drive in my grasp felt heavy from its importance.
A green light flashed in a wall camera, likely activated by a motion sensor. I leaned closer to the computer display, tracing a claw across it. There were multiple ports, but I needed to find one tailored for my specific hardware. Perhaps General Jones or one of her henchmen had the sense to leave accessible instructions….wait, did humans even know Arxur script?
The lone computer monitor blinked to life, and I wondered if it was triggered by my presence as well. My pupils flitted up, seeing a feed of General Jones’ face on screen. It was possible that this was a prerecorded message with instructions, which would be an efficient decision. However, the primate’s eyes seemed to be following my movements.
“Is this live?” I queried.
The human dipped her head, dust-colored bowl cut waving slightly. “Yes, Isif, this is a real-time communications feed.”
“The point of a dead drop is to have no contact with you, yes?”
“You are correct. Don’t consider this standard practice for our discussions, but I needed to speak with you. The motion sensors tipped me off to your arrival; thank you for coming, by the way. Oh, and before you ask, this is a secure and private feed.”
“Noted. General, I had nothing to do with the captured humans on Sillis.”
“But you had everything to do with Chief Hunter Shaza arriving in multiple pieces. Dead, and not answering any questions. Zhao wants intel, not a pair of homemade Arxur-skin boots.”
I suppressed a laugh, somehow managing to keep a straight face. The liberated Terrans had done as expected, exacting their revenge upon the cruel Arxur. It was a fitting end for her, after the gruesome death she’d given to a sapient predator. I had been looking forward to executing her myself; outsourcing the work tempered the pleasure, though the outcome was still satisfactory.
“How could I have possibly known that humans would kill their own prisoner?” I asked, baring my teeth. “I sent her with Zhao’s people, just as you asked. This seems like the problem is on you.”
Jones narrowed her eyes. “Isif, you knew exactly what would happen.”
“Ah, if this is what you needed to speak with me about, perhaps I have nothing to share with you after all.”
“It’s not. I’m just warning you not to play games with me in the future. There’s bigger things at stake than your personal vendettas.”
“Consider it your payment to me for helping you, yes? Shaza called me elderly. She’s also a cannibal who intruded on my sector!”
“I am aware of her history, but her insights would have been valuable to the United Nations. If you want to overthrow the Dominion long-term, sacrifices must be made. With that said, I would love for you to brief me on what you came here to share.”
“Giznel told me that the Arxur unleashed the virus on our own cattle. Betterment purposefully imposes strategies that prevent the Dominion from recouping enough prey to feed us, whether through raiding or breeding. Therefore, I doubt my government would have any interest in lab-grown meat or non-sapient cattle.”
The human was quiet for a long moment, biting her lower lip. Intelligence gleamed in her binocular eyes, which studied me with interest. General Jones leaned forward to the camera, and offered an unnerving smile at last. There wasn’t the slightest element of surprise in her expression, or any sort of reaction like I had expected. Did anything throw the military guru off her game?
“I surmised as much,” Jones sighed. “There’s no logical explanation for the Arxur’s raiding policies, shooting yourselves in the foot.”
“You deduced a centuries-long conspiracy from our military doctrine being…illogical?” It’s like she’s trying to make me feel stupid for not seeing it sooner. “That just proves we’re destructive. Drawing far-reaching conclusions is illogical.”
“Well also, the Kolshians specialize in gene editing, but they bomb predators, instead of ‘saving’ them. They don’t need a cattle virus when they can, and do, use antimatter to ruin ecosystems.”
“I see. I guess I have wasted my time bringing it to you.”
“There’s no need for pouting. Confirmation is always valuable information, and specifics are also key to proving it. It’s nice to have actual intelligence in my back pocket, should I pass this up the food chain.”
“You mean when you apprise Zhao of this development, and give him more reason to believe we are all animals.”
“Your empathy test surprised him, Isif, and has caused him to reconsider your motives. Regardless, I’m not here to rehash this old feud, or even to lecture you on Shaza. There are concerning war developments as of late.”
My nostrils flared with interest. “Go on, Jones. Another attack on Earth, and you want my help?”
“Bah, we wouldn’t ask for your help in that circumstance unless we were truly desperate. The Kolshians are gunning for our allies, to the point that they assaulted every last one with a trial run. We’ve figured out their true target, and they already have thousands of ships ready to bury it. Or seize it; it’s hard to say.”
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this. Venlil Prime isn’t under my protection, other than my pledge not to attack it. If my people knew I was on amicable terms with Tarva…”
“The main target isn’t Venlil Prime. It’s Mileau—the Dossur homeworld.”
My heart plummeted into my chest, thinking about Felra’s attempts to befriend me. She was a bold character, unabashed in her opinions and curious about predators. I had just admitted to myself that I cared about the rodent, and now, her homeworld was under attack. It didn’t make sense why the Terran general would inform me about Mileau’s pending attack, unless she expected me to help.
I knew Jones was spying on me, but this is a cheap trick, even for her!
“So the Federation wants to take back what they’ve lost.” Indignation sparked in my chest, as I weighed this manipulation attempt. “And why would you think I care about the Dossur homeworld?”
The human shrugged. “It’s a Federation objective in your sector. Bringing Arxur ships to their aid would prevent the Kolshians from branching out to the galaxy’s fringes.”
“You are the one playing games with me! They are your allies, not mine. Send human assets to save the Dossur, since you seem keenly aware of their plight.”
“I wish we could. Mileau is two days travel from Earth. Our assets cannot reach it in time; the Kolshians had their ships en route and waiting. But you…you have forces there. You yourself are half a day from it, and could get there in time.”
“You are fucking insane! What would the Dossur even think of my arrival?”
“I suspect one in particular is whose thoughts you care about. I am giving you information; what you choose to do with it is your prerogative. You would be equally upset with me if something happened to your friend and I didn’t tell you.”
“You admit—”
“Farewell, Isif. Stay in touch.”
General Jones had the audacity to hang up on me, and I punched the computer screen out of frustration. The glass cracked against my hardy paw, sending sparks flying. My tail lashed with outrage; I stalked out of the habitat in an emotional frenzy. My feet steered me back onto my ship with more urgency than I could admit.
I fished out the holopad, and determined that I had to warn Felra of the inbound attack. Perhaps she could get out of Mileau’s system and survive, without military interference. The Dossur ignored my call attempts, and her avatar had gone offline. I checked the chat logs in a panic, reading her final messages.
Hey Siffy. The humans who docked here just received warning of an incoming attack…from the Kolshians. There’s not many of you, and their ships are here for repairs. It’s not good.
Evacuation ships were apparently considered, but the first few we sent out didn’t get very far. The Kolshians have FTL disruptors, and they’re not letting anyone slip away. The humans advised us to shelter in place in the docking station. I am scared.
Please talk to me, Siffy. Please…I am so scared. I’m sorry for prying earlier, I really need you now! Tell me it’s going to be okay.
I don’t have much time. They’re going for our communications first. If I don’t make it out of this, I want you to know I’ve enjoyed our chats. Every weird, reclusive moment.
I stared at the last message in mute horror, and an odd burning plagued my eyes. A strange sorrow clamped at my chest, one which I could not bury. It was a sad commentary that an internet “friend”, an herbivore I’d known for a few weeks, marked the closest I’d ever felt to someone. Hadn’t I just cautioned myself about the illogical, harmful actions that attachment caused?
My defective side clamored for me to act on General Jones’ imperative. Perhaps I would’ve considered the idea even without the human’s input, just hearing Felra plead for my presence. The Dossur was the first person to care about me, even though she’d hate me once she knew the truth. Leaving her to die, when I was the sole party who could help, wasn’t an option.
With a shaking paw, I booted up my internal communications. The communique to send a full fleet to Mileau, and to treat the Dossur as protected friendlies, was dispatched before I could rethink it. My engines revved to life, and I set my warp course for Felra’s system. Reason be damned, this foolish Chief Hunter was coming to his friend’s aid in a hurry.