Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: August 18, 2160
The Resket military headquarters were in an expansive complex, complete with dozens of avian patrols marching along to look busy; thick metal walls encased the stone facility, making it look a bit like a castle from the outside. All it needed was a moat, and it’d look like General Radai was living in a medieval fortress. However, the only things I saw once we got past the gates were a convoy of trucks, much like the ones that ascended the hill on the first day of boot camp. It was a good sign that we’d received swift authorization to enter the premises, but I still wasn’t sure he’d go along with vigilantism. After what Mafani had said, there had to be a part of Radai that doubted the Underscales and the secret police. Gress was too disposable to get involved with this, so we needed the general on our side.
A duo of guards herded us into Radai’s office, at the top of a watchtower. Staring at the holes in the staircase wall, which seemed perfect for an antique gun barrel to fit through, I found myself wondering if this was a genuine castle. Perhaps it was some kind of…modern one, or a retrofitted relic of the ancient wars mentioned. If both sides had to agree beforehand where to engage in combat, why would the aggressors choose to storm a stronghold? After bumbling through conversations at the spaceport, I wouldn’t be asking our Resket chaperones for this place’s background. I did file away another topic to broach with Gress, on humans’ medieval fortresses. He’d probably have a fit at the “Knights of the Round Table” being an actual name, with its simplistic, childlike flair.
Knights in general would be a trip for the Krev, seeing full plate armor—crested shields, like how Reskets have family crests. Gress would find a way to coo at a hardened warrior, holding a lethal sword because, “Aw, look at the metal costume! What a precious baby.”
“Gress, what were medieval Krev like?” I asked.
The scaly alien leaned his head back in thought. “Well, there was an entire group of ‘scientists’ devoted to studying the supposed effects of eating certain kinds of rocks. Nutripetrologists—they still exist, although now they’re focused on minerals, not magical properties. Even highly agnostic philosophers of the Krevist Era, like Plessa the Grounded herself, believed in the rejuvenating powers of stone.”
“Does anyone still believe in that today? There were people on Earth who believed in healing crystals and such.”
“There are fringe Krev who seek out this…alternative medicine, but where you’ll most commonly see it is in fantasy stories. We have a roleplaying game called Crawlers and Firefossils, which is hard to explain, but Nutripetrologist is a class—usually either a healer, or a stealthy poisoner.”
“I think I know exactly what you’re talking about with this roleplaying game. I can’t believe you have DND; I always wanted to play a real campaign, not one of the AI apps I have on my holopad. We have got to have a session together, where you show me the ropes of Crawlers.”
Gress’ eyes lit up. “I’d love to teach you. They say I used to be a great Chronicler—the person who guides the narrative. Kori dancing and C&F; I can’t think of a better first date.”
“This isn’t a date?”
“I don’t consider visiting General Radai about two sensitive matters in that way, but I guess it’s open to interpretation.”
A smirk crossed my face, as we reached the top of the spiral staircase. General Radai had his back to us, but I instantly knew it was him from the solemn way he carried himself. A projection of Federation space was open on a holographic display, along with a folder containing options for contacting the Sivkits—something that must’ve weighed on the Resket’s mind, since hearing Anxsel’s description of his species’ erasure. No parties within the Consortium had expected Tellus to have once been the property of the galaxy’s locusts, and for its current status as a desert to be because of the Federation, not the Grand Herd. I suppose the exterminators would’ve burned Earth to the ground, one way or the other. At least this way, humans didn’t become brainwashed, like all of them. I offered a Terran-style salute, before General Radai acknowledged us and waved us in.
“If you came all this way to get Gress’ discharge undone, I’m afraid that will not happen,” the avian said, a weary tone in his voice. “It was a mercy that I did not pursue any more punitive actions.”
I squeezed the Krev’s paw reassuringly, before shaking my head at the Resket. “No, sir. I’m here to request my own discharge for PTSD. This is verifiable from my brain scan, if you do not believe me. I realize I am a liability, and unfit to serve. I don’t want to jeopardize my unit or my people, sir.”
“Dammit, Taylor. I could’ve discharged you for PTSD at any time, but I let you stay to help you. I cut you a lot of slack. For high-ranking Reskets, choosing a person to mentor is bestowing a great honor upon them. Taking you under my wing was supposed to be symbolic of strengthening humanity, and fully embracing you into the Consortium. I’m…disappointed to see you squander the opportunity.”
I ducked my head. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s a wonderful gesture, and I mean that—I’m grateful that you’ve guided me, and that you found Mafani. It’s no slight to you; I’m simply not the right human to fit here, for anyone’s good. After everything that’s happened to me lately, I know I should serve the Consortium in other ways.”
“Hmph. You could’ve requested a discharge electronically, and saved yourself a lot of time. There was no need to come here. I’ll give you a medical discharge, but in the future—don’t start on goals you don’t intend to see through. What happens if I just quit in this war I want no part of? My path is locked, yet I will stay the course.”
“Respectfully, we have to fight the Federation,” Gress piped up. “You heard what they did. I lack conviction in everything the Consortium is involved with, except fighting them.”
“You talk like your Jaslip friend—who, mind you, I tried to give grace to as well, but she harbors too much bitterness toward Reskets.” Radai slumped over the holographic display, stamping a thin leg in frustration. “Something isn’t right with our offensive. It should’ve taken weeks for the fleet to travel to their targets, yet it’s been two months. At least one ship should’ve checked in for a report by now…unless they either never got to the destination, or there were no drones left to report back.”
A lump formed in my throat. “There were 150,000 ships per planet. They didn’t know we were coming. How could they…”
“That’s why I want to know what happened. I finally persuaded the Consortium to send a select few scout ships after our attack party, to get some answers. Without contact, we have no idea how the battles played out. There are too many unknown variables. This was supposed to be a decisive decapitation strike.”
“Sir, if they can’t break into our star systems, and we can’t get into theirs, we’re at a stalemate.”
“A stalemate where their manufacturing capacity is always higher: they can outpace us in the long run. I’m not one to catastrophize, but it’s a bleak outlook. We may need to start investing in our own arks, while we still can. Perhaps one that can make the journey out of this galaxy, where we’d be truly out of reach. The warrior must recognize a losing battle; it’s a tenet of our military code. I need the proper information to make that assessment.”
My mind had gone numb, at the thought of forsaking another home—even if I’d have Gress with me this time. “That…has to be a last resort, sir. We just rebuilt our lives. We’re supposed to have new humans on the way; you have all of your infrastructure. The rings. The Cage. You can’t just replace that!”
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“Things can be replaced; our identity cannot, if the Federation were to win. That’s why I wished to contact the Sivkits along the way, if only to transmit the contents of Anxsel’s story. We could help give them a little bit of themselves back. However, the other delegates shot down my idea, too caught up in their own agendas. Mayor Hathaway wished to send more ships to ‘go for the kill,’ while the rest wished to Trombil up—sinking back into our shells to play defense. I was lucky to sway them to investigate at all.”
“We don’t need to assume the worst. With the travel time in store, it’ll take the drones a few weeks, right? We should stay positive until then,” Gress managed.
“If these strikes failed, in what was supposed to be an overwhelming show of force, there is nothing more the Consortium has to throw at them. These aren’t the weak, incompetent prey Tellus told us they fought against.”
“But we don’t know that they failed, General Radai.”
The Resket’s eyes were agitated. “The scouts will report back in a few weeks. The risk of dropping buoys to communicate back home was finally deemed…acceptable. We’ll know what transpired soon enough. What I hold with certainty is that, we’ll burn Tanet ourselves before we let them burn it.”
I ran a hand through my stringy hair. “We routed them at Tellus, thanks to the home-field advantage, and it’s the least secure planet in the Consortium. Surely Tanet isn’t in that much danger.”
“I don’t know, Taylor. The Federation appears to have assimilated some human techniques. They might’ve learned from you. You see it, don’t you?”
“I…I saw it the moment they showed up here with drones,” I murmured. “General Radai, are you okay, sir? Your judgment seems impaired, between the stakes and the guilt of the Sivkits. Trust me, you don’t want to make decisions for all of us from that kind of mindset.”
“My honor is being tested on all fronts, but I am fine. Reskets endure.”
I was unconvinced by Radai shrugging off my concern, but it was evident the suspicions against the Underscales and the truth of the Sivkits had taken a toll on him. Perhaps Gress wasn’t the only one who lacked conviction in the Consortium’s policies. Director Wrolle might’ve foiled his public interrogation, but the fact that the general had been willing to believe black ops would do something as heinous as slaughtering Jaslip children was telling. It might explain why he’d let Quana’s bitter remarks slide. While I believed Radai hadn’t known the truth about Gress’ run-in with Jaslip extremists, he’d been aware of their dirty tactics all the way back when Mafani had kidnapped me. The Resket knew there was rottenness in the KC’s hidden agencies.
Just like it made perfect sense to Gress, I think it put the pieces together for Radai too. He heard Mafani’s claim, and had that immediate certainty that it was true. He wants to dig around more in what those departments are up to; enlisting his help to undo their neglect—how they squandered the opportunity to use their reach for good—should be easy.
“You asked why I didn’t resign electronically. It’s because of what we need your help with; there can’t be a paper trail,” I said. “Gress and I watched you question Wrolle. He stonewalled you.”
General Radai stared directly at me. “Trench, I hope you haven’t convinced this Krev to go on some half-baked revenge plan. I’m not going to help you hunt down Underscales who were allegedly involved.”
“That’s not what we wanted! That’s…not who I am. At least, it’s not who I want to be.”
Gress patted me on the back. “Taylor talked me out of vigilantism, Radai. Him leaving military life behind is a sign of growth, even if you don’t recognize it as such. He might’ve joined to seek revenge, but he’s left that path to find other ways of helping. Honorable ways.”
“You know nothing of honor—either of you,” Radai spat. “What it means to bow to another’s wishes, to put yourself aside altogether. Leading, maintaining order: devoting one’s life to dutiful service, regardless of the burdens that come with it. Don’t belittle my intelligence by claiming this is about honor.”
“But it is, sir. There are many forms of honor, and protecting those who can’t protect themselves, when you have nothing to gain? That’s honor.” I took a step toward the Resket, determination creasing my face. “Gress knows of wrongs that the Consortium has overlooked, and he wants to correct them. A list of victims and perpetrators that your surveillance caught, but deemed not worth helping. C’mon, Radai. Doesn’t that make you angry?”
“My emotions are irrelevant. I will not be baited into some impulsive explosion, or rash decision.”
“Humans have a concept of righteous anger, Radai. You shouldn’t feel nothing when you see injustice. There’s no honor in being heartless and emotionless. It’s not rash to want to change things; it’s not honorable to blindly obey a system that doesn’t care for life or morality.”
“How dare you cast judgment on my motivations, or tell me how to conduct myself?”
“Because you’re the only one who can help us, General, and I want to believe you’re a good man. I want to believe you care. All you have to do is look into these names, and try to see honorable justice carried out.” I passed Radai a thumb drive of the names, and watched as he held it up with suspicion. “You have the power to expose the Consortium’s underbelly, and to make a better society for billions of sapients. You tried to out their callousness with Wrolle, so don’t quit now. You told me you see things through.”
Gress cleared his throat. “Taylor’s right. You might not have known the truth with what happened with Mafani and myself, but you don’t have the same excuse now. Criminals are walking free, while their resources go to staging child executions. You can’t claim ignorance this time, Radai. You can do something about it, something that’ll help at least a few people. You can make a stand.”
“I have billions of lives hanging in the balance of my decisions, and you think I have time for—that I should prioritize—a few criminal cases that left a sour taste in your mouth?” Radai demanded.
“Someone has to decide those handful of people are worth helping. If you believe they’re insignificant, where do you draw the line? That’s exactly what the Listeners and Underscales are doing, with utter disregard for any ‘small number’ of lives. I…I want to believe there’s someone in the government who’s better than that. Whatever you think of us, please help them.”
The general muttered a few curses to himself, before plugging in the drive and perusing its contents. “Hmph. I’ll see about forwarding this data to the proper authorities, and making sure it doesn’t get buried. I can’t promise what happens from there.”
“Thank you, sir!” I exclaimed, relieved that we’d been able to persuade the Resket. “We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done to help us. It was an honor to serve under you.”
“Trench, I know you hated listening to a word I said. I suggest you find a job in the Tellus militia, or something with a lot less order. Now you’re dismissed, both of you. Go home, while you still can.”
“Keep your chin up. Gress is right; we don’t know the drones are gone. Might I leave you with a…parting quote? I think you’d like it, judging by that ‘losing battle’ code tenet you had going on.”
Radai stared at me like I’d grown a third eye. “Why on Tanet do you think human quotes are at all like my code?!”
“…because it’s from The Art of War? You seem like the type that’d read strategic military wisdom to your kids as bedtime stories.”
The Resket gawked at me for a few moments, before ducking his head in reluctant agreement. I took that as my sign to continue, while backing toward the exit door of his office. The last thing I wanted was to get charged at by Radai, after seeing how he’d sent Gress flying back in the bunker.
“‘If you know the enemy and you know yourself, you need not fear the results of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle,’” I recited, a nervous grin on my face.
Radai tilted his head. “That might be the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said to me, Trench. I’m surprised you’d have those kinds of quotes rolling around in your head.”
“I…I definitely didn’t memorize a few of the best quotes to impress you, sir. The point is, we need to know more about the Federation, given how we didn’t know they’d been active in our own backyard. Maybe those scouts can give us some useful information, and we can figure out exactly what we’re up against. How to take them down.”
“It definitely would help our planning not to be running off of 24-year-old information. We are flying blind, and clearly unaware of their true capabilities. I’ll hold out hope that we learn something that can turn the tide…and that it’s not too late for a meaningful victory. But I’ve said enough words on military affairs to two discharged soldiers. Take care of yourselves, Taylor and Gress.”
“You do the same, Radai,” the Krev replied.
With our business on Tanet left in capable wings, Gress and I departed from the tower office. The hope I’d felt when we joined up with the Consortium, that we might be able to defeat the Federation—that we could reclaim Earth, just like my Krev partner had spoken about—was now mired in uncertainty. As cathartic as it would’ve been for the Krakotl to pay for genociding my species, I knew that avenging humanity wasn’t my primary goal anymore. Convincing Radai to bring about action on the forgotten Listener files was making a difference, in the small capacity that I could. It also kept the alien I loved from putting himself in harm’s way to deal with his pain; whatever happened on the war front, I deemed my personal mission a success.