Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Executive Officer Sifal, Seaglass Mineral Concern

  Date [standardized human time]: January 25, 2137

  Debbin was staring wide-eyed at nothing, probably spooked by something cerebral again. I was just glad he wasn’t getting too afraid of, you know, being alone in a room with two hungry Arxur. Well, peckish. I’d probably get some food after this next meeting, maybe check in on the hab modules for my settlers.

  “So, are we in agreement, then?” I asked Debbin. He didn’t react. I tapped my claws on the wooden desk, and the noise jolted him out of his thoughts. He made a yelp of surprise in response that I found viscerally satisfying. “One of your ‘patients’ has a minor malady of the nervous system that humans have previously documented, in detail, and deemed harmless, and the other two have no medical issues beyond a difference of opinion. Given the limited personnel present on this planet, I recommend reassigning them to… well, normal jobs.”

  Debbin shook his head. “If any inspectors pop in and find out that they’re not being rehabilitated, I’ll lose those tax breaks.”

  My jaw dropped. “Debbin, if any inspectors pop in, they’re going to find Arxur.”

  Debbin blinked, fully coming out of whatever stupor he’d slipped into. “Right… right. We’ll be operating a bit off-grid, then. Can’t let word of you get out. Somebody in the Federation would send an extermination fleet.”

  I nodded. “Or Betterment would, to root out the rebels. So, the patients, then?”

  Debbin sighed. “Fine. We’ll put them on payroll. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re this opposed to the practice. Don’t your people still engage in full-blown slavery?”

  I hesitated. “Slavery is politically untenable right now,” I began, giving the safest answer first. “Earth hates it, and the Rebellion can’t survive without their backchannel sponsorship. Casting aside our most reviled practices also starts the process of opening certain doors to other potential allies, however slowly.” I nodded towards Debbin. “Let’s be honest: even with a gun to your head, you never would have entertained my offer if I hadn’t renounced any need for food or slaves.”

  Debbin shrugged, but he was smirking. “Guilty as charged. So it’s just a pragmatic matter of politics and power?”

  My eyes flicked over to Laza. There was one more reason, but it wasn’t Debbin’s reaction that worried me. It was Laza’s. I’d be taking a gamble, admitting to empathy openly, but… I think I had an angle.

  I leaned back in my chair and sighed. Drummed my claws on the table again, like I was thinking about what words to use. Really playing up the hesitancy. “Every Arxur who isn’t some… upper class bloodline’s progeny… has to go through a few years as a raider before they can apply for a job doing something else. Even if you’re obviously talented at some other career, you have to start by showing off your skills at hunting down prey on foot.”

  Debbin stared at me, baffled. “I thought that was… I thought those were your basic instincts. Chasing down someone to eat is supposed to be like caramel and sex for you. You… you almost make it sound like you don’t enjoy it.”

  “I mean, I fucking didn’t,” I said bitterly. “Yeah, sure, a big meal feels good, but those payoffs were few and far between. Most of the time, you’re just waiting around, wasting away and hungry. And you guys weren’t exactly defenseless, you know? Imagine going out to graze, or whatever, but every leaf has a machine gun behind it, and every blade of grass is booby-trapped with incendiaries. Did you know humans mostly banned the use of incendiary munitions in warfare? Fifty percent of the galaxy’s apex predators think that burning their enemies alive is going too far. And they’re the ones who cook their food.”

  I’d had Debbin’s attention to begin with, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Laza had looked up. Just as planned. “And the worst part was the utter pointlessness of it,” I continued. “I knew what I was good at. I knew what I wanted to do with my life. And I was stuck there, fighting for my life on every desolate colony world, trying to prove myself as someone I’m not, before I was allowed to be myself.” I stared down Debbin, who flinched despite himself, as Laza, in my periphery, nodded along with my words. I almost had her. I just had to showcase my perfectly predatory reasons. Not because I cared, not because I had empathy, but because… “I hate that feeling of helplessness. Of pointlessness. Of needless, avoidable terror. I hate knowing who I’m supposed to be, and knowing that I can’t get there until I’ve been a good enough someone else. I hate it so much that I want it gone from this world. I want that sensation exterminated from this galaxy entirely.”

  Debbin nodded, slowly, and I politely pretended not to notice Laza doing likewise. “Alright, then,” said the Nevok. “We’ll find the… former patients jobs with the company that fit their desires and abilities. Not entirely sure what this Tika woman is going to do. Kinda self-defeating, hiring a Predator Disease specialist on a colony where we’re freeing all the Predator Disease patients.”

  I rose to my feet. “Let’s ask her if she has any ideas, then.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Debbin led the way, and it did not escape my notice that Laza followed him immediately. It was a subtle sign of faith in me that she took point. She trusted me in her blind spot now. We walked outside, back into the hallway, and then back into the next empty office over, where the prisoners were waiting to be freed. Zillis followed as well, repositioning herself to guard the room that wasn’t empty. She was staring at me, starry-eyed, as she did. Had she overheard?

  The other office had furniture and carpeting, but the people inside were arranged much the same as back in the mines. Tika was perched on the desk, eagerly awaiting my return, and the older Yotul woman was in the rear corner, unafraid, but comforting the younger Nevok man, who was terrified and shaking.

  I did some quick mental math about whether I should speak or Debbin should. I settled on myself. “As near as I can tell, Tika’s story holds water. In my capacity as the Chief Executive Officer of this colony, I have advised the Chairman of the Board of Directors, visible around ninety degrees to my right and thirty degrees down…”

  “Hey!” objected Debbin.

  “...to reassign you three to positions more suiting your talents. These will be paid positions, with reasonable hours and benefits, and… I’m honestly looking to you three to tell me where you think you’d be most helpful to this enterprise. Consider this something of a job interview.”

  The Yotul, oddly, put her paw in the air the fastest. I nodded towards her. “Sorry,” she said. “The, ah… Chairman mentioned that your name was Sifal, but please forgive me if I didn’t catch an honorific.”

  I nodded politely. “Commander Sifal, First Officer of the…” I doubted the Yotul would get the joke behind our flagship, the Bleeding Heart. “First Officer under Commodore Vriss of Disruption Wing in the Arxur Rebellion. Presently Chief Executive Officer of Seaglass Mineral Concern. Call me Sifal or ma’am, depending on your language’s grammar.” I rubbed my chin. “I didn’t catch your name or the Nevok’s, either.”

  The Yotul bowed politely. “My name is Jodi, and the boy is named Benwyn.”

  Benwyn shook, and I tried to wave it away. One person at a time. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jodi. What would you say you’re good at?”

  Jodi’s eyes flicked around the room, looking for some measure of guidance of what to say to not get eaten. “I was a soldier,” she said plainly. “Infantry officer, pre-contact.”

  Laza barely constrained her dismissive laughter. She was coming around, but the idea of prey being on her wavelength wasn’t an idea she was ready to entertain just yet.

  I held my officer’s sword out to Jodi, hilt-first. “Do you know how to use this?” I asked.

  Jodi grasped the hilt easily, and stared at it in deep thought. I was nearly twice her height, and an Arxur’s blade must have looked similarly. “Larger than I’m used to, but… yes.”

  I held a hand out towards Laza, who handed me her own sword with only a moment’s hesitation. Arxur were far stronger than Yotul, but I had only a month or two of sword training. If she’d been at it for decades, it might even be fair. “Show me what you know, then,” I said, simply.

  Jodi lunged at me. Arxur were ambush predators, and yet I remained surprised by the speed and force with which she pounced at me on her marsupial legs, meant for bounding and leaping. I didn’t even bother parrying. I stepped to the side while she was airborne and took a quick swat at her back as she passed on by. She was too quick, though. I flicked a few hairs off, but no blood was drawn. “You promise me clemency if I defeat you?” Jodi asked, pivoting back around towards me in a guarded stance.

  I laughed, despite myself. “I believe I promised you clemency no matter what. This is just establishing your pay grade.” I flicked the blade in front of me, and bared my teeth. “An old Yotul, precontact, with a will to fight? Show me what the Federation hid from me.”

  Jodi laughed, and lunged again, but far more piecemeal, a flurry rather than all in one thrust. Swordplay was legwork, this I knew, and the old Yotul woman knew her legwork. My eyes faded from cocky glee to desperate focus faster than I’d expected. She had me on the back foot sooner rather than later, and I was practically giggling with joy. Why wouldn’t I be? We Arxur had been waiting for ages until Humanity had arrived, a fellow hunter species. But if even herbivores could fight like this, then time waiting had been time wasted.

  “Magnificent,” I said, parrying and backpedaling from Jodi’s assault. “I never imagined you’d be this good. You have a place here, no matter what.”

  Jodi’s head dipped subtly, and her blade pierced through my defenses. The best I could do was raise my left arm in a block. Jodi sliced my forearm, a second strange nick overlaying my triplicate scars from days gone by.

  One for Garruga, one for Jodi… I thought to myself. Will there be a third?

  The Yotul whipped her blade back immediately, and pivoted to a defensive stance. “Will that suffice, ma’am?” she asked.

  “First blood? It will,” I answered. “Pledge your blade to mine, and you’ll always have a place in my guard.”

  Jodi bowed deeper. “Forgive me, then, ma’am, but… more than anything, I’d like to see my family once more.”

  I stiffened up as I sheathed Laza’s sword. Did I have a family, still? Did they even want to see me, rebel as I was? “Jodi, we’re… sadly in the midst of a criminal conspiracy at the moment. Nobody gets to leave right now, and we’re working on the details of how to get information in or out.” None of that was comforting, so I took a deep breath and tried again. “Let us know who you’re looking for. We’ll do an algorithmic pass for them and tell you what they’re up to. Deep dive through social media, whatever it takes.”

  Jodi dipped her head, sadly. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said. It felt weird, being bowed to by a woman older than me. “I have a son whose wedding I missed. Nikolo. He told me he meant to marry a strong young woman named Rosi. I’d love to know how their lives have gone.”

  I nodded back to her. “Very well, we’ll put out some feelers, see what--”

  “Found ‘em,” said Debbin, fiddling with his holopad. I stared at him, slack-jawed and baffled. “What? Do you guys even have social media? It’s not hard to search for names.” He flipped his holopad around, showing a happy Yotul couple sitting at a restaurant table together. That furniture looked familiar. The whole building did. “Couple weeks since our last data dropoff, but they’re on Earth, by the sound of it. Your boy’s with the rebuilders.”

  I grabbed Debbin’s wrist, pulling the holopad back towards me as I stared at the image in shock. My claw marks were on that table. And I’d never forget the face of the human chef in the background. “Is that fucking David?!”