“Now that our friends are gone, you and I are going to have a chat,” Jean said to the guard through a small gap between the metal lid and stone of the pit.

  Despite the friendliness of his words, they dripped with the venom of a man about to destroy every belief another held dear. His plan was simple; he would take the guard from his prison and show him the secret tunnel. If seeing the history of his people carved upon the tunnel walls didn’t force a change of heart, Jean would simply kill the creature.

  There was a high probability it would work. Any sane creature forced to come face to face with a reality they didn’t understand would only react in one of two ways: shocked hostility, or dumbfounded disbelief.

  He shined a light into the pit and had suppressed a grin upon recognizing the bug-like face of the guard they’d captured. It was the same one that worked at the exchange counter and taunted him and the other prisoners for months on end while they struggled for scraps of food. Now the shoe is on the other foot; the guard was his prisoner.

  And he was the jailer.

  “Do you even understand me?”

  The creature tilted its head slowly back and forth, as if confused about how it should answer. Despite his attempts to hide the fact, it clearly understood him.

  “Can you speak my language without your equipment?”

  The creature glared at Jean, clearly wishing death on the prisoner. Eventually, he relented, shook his head, and collapsed back to the ground. Based entirely on the alien’s physical makeup, Jean figured this would be an issue and came prepared.

  He lifted the creature's helmet in both hands and held it over the edge of the pit. “I'm going to hand this down to you. But if you try to contact your peers, I will cover this hole again and leave you to the same fate thousands of prisoners have experienced through the ages. If you betray me, you will die a very slow, agonizing death. It would be nice to have one of you on our side, but it’s not necessary to achieve the vision I crave.”

  The guard nodded silently, reaching up with one of his forelegs desperately attempting to take the helm. “No, not yet. You haven't earned this. I need more than a simple gesture to prove you're not lying.”

  The captured Scalador paused for a moment, trying to figure out a way to convey his desire to speak with Jean. Coming to a decision, the creature reached into a pouch on its waist and produced a small cube. It turned the object over in its hands, staring at it forlornly before handing it to Jean.

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  Wary of a trick, Jean refused to take it, afraid it was some sort of weapon he did not understand. Realization filled the creature's eyes, and it pressed a small button on the side with the flexible tip of an appendage. A holographic image of a Scaladorian family flickered to life in the air above the device.

  “Your family?” The creature nodded in response, shaking the cube at Jean. “Alright, consider it collateral.”

  The eco-terrorist reached down, swapping the helmet for the cube and slipped it into his pocket. Below, the guard slipped the armor onto his head and opened the faceplate. He spent a moment swiping at the air before finally looking up.

  “You realize that, given the chance, I will kill you.” The helmet translated, “What could we possibly need to discuss? You are of the Lesser, and I am a direct servant of the great darkness.”

  “Alright then. I suppose we have nothing to discuss, and you would prefer to die alone.” Jean replied, moving to slide the plate back into place.

  “No! Wait…”

  The prisoner paused with his hand extended. Giving the alien a chance to speak.

  “What do you want to discuss?”

  “Do you know the history of your race?” Jean asked, dropping his hand and sitting back on his heels.

  “We were once like your, walking among the light of stars while living a hedonistic life. Eventually, our planet began showing signs of distress before eventually entering a spiral of death that would have killed us all. But the benevolence of the Stygibora saved us from our fate. They extinguished our star and brought balance back to our world, freeing us from the cursed light. Their acceptance of our people brought us peace, and eventually into their embrace.”

  “How did extinguishing the star save your world?” Jean asked, entranced by the story of a world he didn’t know.

  “After they silenced our star, they manually kept our planet turning until they completed the construction of a Dyson sphere to generate gravity in our solar system. Without the added magnetism of a dying star, our world stabilized. All we had to trade was the light of our star.”

  “Is that the history they teach you? Something tells me there is more to this story.” Jean said, thinking about the carvings on the wall and the strange script he couldn’t read. “I have something to show you, but I need to know you won’t try to kill me if I bring you out of this hole.”

  The Scaladorian fell silent, mulling over his choices and eventually nodding his head in acceptance.

  “Will I need to bind your… are they hands?”

  “You have the only imprint of my family I’m allowed to have on this planet. They are extremely delicate and cost a significant amount of credits. If my word is not enough, take solace in that knowledge.” He said, climbing to his feet, “I hope that is enough for you to refrain from binding my arms. In my culture, the binding of limbs represents ownership, and I would rather die than become a slave.”

  Jean reached down, a wide grin splitting his face. If placing his trust in this creature was a mistake, that was a gamble he was willing to take. Their resistance needed reinforcement. If this went well, this guard would be the first in a long line.