[Captain Nathaniel Brand]
I took the brief period I had in transit to go over the prepared information for this meeting one last time. The Nematoriam Sociality was unique in that they did not have a need for language between themselves, instead opting to speak in the language of whoever they were talking to as they were capable of making any sounds necessary. They also went through great efforts to not have any images or descriptions of themselves available to outsiders. Actually meeting one in person was a delicate occasion requiring top secrecy and extensive non-disclosure measures. They otherwise publicly conducted themselves using robotic intermediaries.
They were interested in forming an alliance with us against the overwhelming Grahtonian forces. Their frontlines are locked in a standstill and we have the power to tip the scales in their favor if we take an offensive stance, but that also means putting ourselves at risk with our already exceedingly low number of trained personnel and combat-capable ships.
By now I had descended far enough to see the governor’s sprawling estate. It had changed drastically in the small amount of time we’ve been here, now sporting orbital defense cannons and laser anti munition systems. My lander was piloting itself down to the newly created landing zone where I could make out the Nematorian transport that sneaked during their distraction. It was a fairly featureless tube of metal, prioritizing function over form with its bleak gray casing and complete lack of windows. It was also incredibly small outside of the necessary space-faring equipment. Trying to fit a human in there would be equivalent to locking them up in a coffin.
A couple of Meldren greeted me at the landing zone and led me through the halls of the mansion into an underground section. My communication implant clued me in that this area was completely shielded from external signals, preventing the risk of the discussion being prematurely leaked before reaching a final decision. This portion of the building was much less lavish in its presentation compared to the above-ground side, opting for polished concrete and intense fluorescent lights over the usual quartz-gold and rich wood walls.
We reached a set of metal doors at the end of the hall leading to the meeting room. My guides told me that I was free to enter but that the Governor would be arriving slightly later as she was on a tight schedule. I decided that I should take the time to acquaint myself with this mystery spokesperson since we would be discussing the futures of our people in mere minutes. They opened the doors and had me step into the airlock-style connector before closing behind me with a reverberating clang. I understood the need for utmost confidentiality, but this setup kept on giving me ominous vibes. The other door automatically opened on itself with the tumbling of machinery permeating through the walls, introducing me to a dimly lit and humid room. The only source of light was a ceiling lamp illuminating a metal table in the center, leaving the walls and ceiling blanketed in darkness. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust before I truly understood the horror story I had just walked into.
Innumerous thin red strands masked the walls near me in an organic lattice, weaving over themselves and subtly undulating with nauseating vitality. They were tracing the frame of the door through which I had entered, silently threatening that they had the ability to close me in should they so desire. I noticed them carpeting the floor, moving out of the way of my steps so as not to be trampled upon. Some strands broke off from the netting and licked the air like the tongue of a snake. I traced the strands along the walls to the far end of the room, noting how they grew in width and density along the way. I couldn’t see past the dust and mist in the air reflecting the light from above, though maybe that was a blessing in this situation.
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The walls seemingly started to vibrate, millions of threads trembling in unison at specific frequencies, flicking against the air in whip-like fashion to create popping and clicking, scraping against each other in calculated movements. A voice was produced, one belonging to the deepest region of the uncanny valley. A chorus of strained, raspy vocalizations belonging to no particular walk of life, cascading from every angle with the intent of communication.
“Ah-h, you are alone? Was human Dominique not able to attend?”
Deep breath. I am the guest here, the alien in their world. Adapting to situations most would not be comfortable in is an aspect of my duty. This is not a monster, it is a person. One that I am to treat with respect, and I am to accommodate their uniqueness. Pioneer Dominique’s attendance was indeed informally requested by this individual, though it couldn’t be arranged since he wasn’t in our custody during preparations. Before I could begin to answer, it spoke again.
“Oh, where are my manners? I am Nematorian Auell Nihitiri, spokes-being of the Nematoriam Sociality. Please disregard my previous query, that request was selfish in nature anyway. You must be Captain Nathaniel Brand, if I am not mistaken?”
The original raspy chorus had been slowly evolving into a tighter, more natural-sounding voice, as if Auell was getting accustomed to speaking human language. The tone had also picked up, going from one of dismay to chipper yet formal. This shift lifted the mood of the room along with it, making the search for my own voice not nearly as colossal of an endeavor as it had been moments ago.
“...Yes, you are correct. Please excuse me for my hesitation in speaking.”
“I take no offense to it, really. In fact, this is comparatively one of the most pleasant introductions I’ve had during my time in service. There have been occasions of people completely freezing up upon seeing me, or even fainting! Those were truly terrible incidents, sometimes requiring me to… touch them so they could be lifted out of the room.”
The room shivered upon Auell’s mentioning of touch, the strands near me backing away an inch before slowly refilling the space they had taken up.
“Do you… have an aversion to physical contact?”
“Absolutely! It’s quite ironic, too, considering so many cultures have depictions of creatures like us being the touchy ones, but in reality it is quite the contrary. We share the same fears for your body type as you do for ours, isn’t that a fascinating coincidence?”
I was experiencing whiplash by this point. Auell was borderline eccentric in their attitude, completely subverting the expectations I had formed upon witnessing their appearance. They were also startlingly emotive when speaking, their body lifting and wilting during the ups and downs of their speech, growing taught during exclamations and licking the air more than usual during questions.
And while listening to Auell’s chattering was slowly starting to become enjoyable, we were ultimately here for political business. I heard the outside door of the airlock open, signaling governor Sind’s arrival. Moments later, the inner door swung open, followed by the governor stepping into the room, carrying a wad of documents in her hands.
“Captain Brand, you’re here early… though, I can’t seem to spot the diplomat…”
She froze entirely, her eyes still locked onto mine as she became aware of her periphery. The papers fell from her hand and spread across the floor, being caught and organized by the carpet of tendrils monopolizing the area.