Memory Transcription Subject: First Officer Sifal, ARS Bleeding Heart

  Date [standardized human time]: January 25, 2137

  With the Executive’s surrender secured, our next stop was the command center so Debbin could make the announcement official. The building was next door, the one I’d assumed was a bunker, and it was missing everything from the ground floor up. It really was a masterfully precise shot by young Zillis. The three of us marched down the stairs inside, Debbin in front just in case. Probably weren’t any holdouts or explosives on tripwires, but you could never be too careful with these things. Every Arxur went through a few years of being a raider: the cautious conscripts might have won fewer moments of glory, but the bold conscripts had fewer survivors. Ditto the desperate conscripts. I grimaced, idly, as I remembered watching a hungry young runt chase after a meal on hooves, and running face-first into a flamethrower trap. It’d probably take me another decade or so before I managed to forget the exact sound he made as he died, screaming.

  I tried to shake the bad memories away. I survived, and I had a job to do, here and now. Debbin had already pulled up a little stool in front of a huge bank of security terminals, more than half of which seemed offline. Did we do that? I nodded towards them. “Seems like a lot,” I said.

  Debbin shrugged. “Eh, most of them don’t do anything yet. Room for expansion.” He rubbed his mouth again, thinking. “Say, about the surrender broadcast. Do you mind if I act like it was my idea?”

  I tilted my head slightly in confusion. “Why?”

  The Nevok gestured casually with a paw. “I mean, for self-serving reasons, obviously, I’m not gonna lie about that, but also, uh… Less chance of angry riots or panicked stampedes if they think it was me. Well, less chance of further stampedes.”

  I stared at him, baffled, but it was starting to tickle a memory of human farming practices, of all things…

  “Look,” he said, “this might be a fundamental difference in how prey species think. We’re all very, ah… I guess the word we use is herd-oriented. If an Arxur tells us to do something, flee! Panic! Scatter!” Debbin waved his little paws around frantically to emphasize the point. “But if a high-status member of the herd says it’s a good idea? Well, you’d be a fool not to trust it! He’s high status for a reason, don’tcha know?” The Nevok snorted. “Even if it’s a dangerous idea, they’ll follow along anyway if they think it came from me.”

  The memory clicked. “Right! Like a Judas goat,” I said.

  “Pardon?” The Nevok’s head tilted in confusion.

  “Sorry, that’s two human-specific nouns, of course it wouldn’t translate,” I said. “It’s from old human cattle management practices, back before they switched to bioreactors. When it was time to send their herd to the slaughterhouse, they’d have this one specially-trained traitor animal who always got to live. He’d walk into the slaughterhouse without a care in the world, and the herd would follow him. If the guy up front wasn’t scared, then surely there was nothing to be afraid of, right?” I paused for effect. “Then they’d introduce him to the next herd to run the plan back.”

  I turned back toward Debbin, to see if he’d been impressed by this bit of trivia. His gemlike eyes were impossibly wide, his ears were pinned back, and his jaw hung open in horror, the last stub of his cigarette having fallen out smoldering to the floor by his hooves.

  Laza, by contrast, was struggling not to laugh.

  Oh, shit, did I just traumatize him? Fuck, we need him working with us.

  Debbin looked from the panicked expression on my face, to the barely-constrained mirth on Laza’s, and thankfully drew a convenient conclusion. He slowly closed his mouth, and… laughed as well. “Alright, you’re fucking with me. I get it. Poor taste, but I guess I’ll have to get used to Arxur ‘humor’ if we’re going to be working together.” He shook his head as he booted the terminal up. “Ask me yesterday, wouldn’t have even guessed you people had humor,” he muttered half to himself.

  The little lagomorph clapped himself on the cheeks and aggressively shook some blood flow into his face. Game time. “Citizens of Seaglass, this is Executive Debbin, and today, I bring you wonderful news!” His whole voice and demeanor changed the moment the microphone began broadcasting. The jaded little cynic vanished, and in its place sat a bubbly bundle of insincere cheer, ready to tell the world that no, the sky wasn’t falling, the world was simply rising up to meet it. Fuck me, if this is what Nevoks brought to the table, we should have recruited them years ago. “Today, I, your bold leader, have accomplished the unprecedented--nay, the impossible!--task of negotiating a full cessation of hostilities with our old foes the Arxur. We have achieved peace in our time!”

  I was still slowly working through whatever was in the cigarette he gave me, and that last line finally set off a coughing fit. He’d secured peace with one assault wing. I couldn’t even technically speak for the rest of the Rebellion, let alone for Betterment.

  “To that end, a treaty of mutual support is being drawn up,” Debbin continued. “In exchange for certain industrial goods, the Arxur will guarantee our safety and autonomy, and have agreed to lend their shrewd cunning to advising us on matters of business practice. It is my sincere belief that this will benefit us all, and allow Seaglass to reach new heights of safety and prosperity!”

  Debbin muted the microphone briefly, switching back into his more calculating persona. He had one paw on his chin, and one hoof tapping the ground idly. Then he sat up, turned towards me, and… grinned? I wasn’t even aware that grinning was a thing Nevoks did. I’d picked up the habit from my time on Earth; had he already picked it up from me? And why in the world was he grinning?

  The Nevok flicked the microphone back on. “Now, to best facilitate our transition to this new way of doing business, I will be stepping down as Chief Executive of Seaglass. I will remain the primary shareholder and public face of the company, and stay on board in an oversight capacity to ensure a smooth transition. The new leader of Seaglass in charge of day-to-day operations will be a member of the Arxur delegation, a decorated officer named Sifal.” My eyes widened, my jaw dropped, and what was left of my cigarette tumbled to the ground. What the fuck was he doing?! That wasn’t what we discussed! “Yes, yes, I know this may sound highly unorthodox, but I have spoken to Sifal at length. She is a remarkably calm and intelligent woman--traits I confess I never expected to see in an Arxur!--and she has my full trust and confidence in this venture. It is my prediction that her predacious mind, at last unburdened by hunger, may find a talent for a far more civilized type of hunt: the pursuit of profit, to all our benefit. I hope you will all give her the benefit of the doubt, and treat her with the same respect you have shown me. Thank you all for your understanding as we travel towards new and uncharted horizons of prosperity, together.”

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  Debbin flicked off the broadcast, flicked off the emergency status for the colony, straightened out his vest, and turned to me, smiling politely.

  “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?!” I roared.

  Debbin sat there, smirking, even as his fur rippled from the sheer volume of air from my lungs. “I surrendered. Colony’s yours. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  Words failed me completely.

  “Did I get the hang of Arxur humor?” he asked, smirking further.

  “I swear to all the gods I’ve lost, I am going to turn your ass into a pair of cozy fucking mittens if you don’t get back on that broadcast terminal and--”

  I was interrupted by a thunderous impact that shook the whole complex like a meteor strike. I turned towards the stairwell, reflexively, to see what was happening.

  A guard popped his head in. “Commander Sifal? The Commodore would like to speak with you.”

  I shook my head hollowly and started to fuss with my holopad. “Alright, patch it over.”

  “No need,” said Vriss, icily. The guard perked up at attention as our mutual superior marched in with cold precision.

  “Ah, Commodore Vriss, I presume?” Debbin said cheerfully, failing to realize that the relative kindness I’d shown him thus far was still the exception, not the norm, among Arxur.

  Vriss glared briefly at the Nevok, just a quick glance, like he would to register his distaste at a spot of rust that no one on duty had polished clean yet, and turned to Laza instead. “Lieutenant Commander, shut him up, and then clear the room.”

  Laza saluted quickly, scooped up Debbin bodily, and left in a state of frantic relief that she didn’t need to be present for what looked to be a severe chewing-out.

  Vriss watched them and the guards leave, and didn’t turn back to me until he was convinced they were out of earshot. “What the fuck happened, Sifal?” he said quietly.

  I nodded nervously. “I don’t know! He just… said that. That wasn’t the plan.”

  “Yes, I know that wasn’t the plan,” he hissed. “I was there when you made it. This was supposed to be a low-maintenance conquest! In, out, and we come back for seconds whenever we want it.”

  “I’m sorry, I…” I shook my head hollowly. “Negotiating with prey is uncharted territory for us. I messed up! We might have something a little bit closer to an alliance or a vassal now? I guess? We didn’t even consider that possibility because it was too implausible.”

  “Impossible, you mean,” he muttered, “and yet somehow, here we are.” Vriss rubbed his face in exasperation. “I have no idea how you pulled this off. You were already tasked with doing the impossible, and yet you somehow overshot the target into entirely new realms of ‘could never ever fucking happen’. Like… what the fuck do we do now? Is this something we want to backtrack on, or…?”

  “I… I don’t know,” I said. “Look, maybe this isn’t a bad thing? A couple Arxur on site for quality control, make sure they aren’t sabotaging the parts? Couple more to make sure they don’t try anything funny while we’re gone?”

  Vriss growled. “A couple Arxur is one thing. He asked for you.”

  My face fell. Oh. Now I saw what the problem really was. “Vriss, it’ll be alright. I know I’ve been helpful, but you’ve been running Disruption Wing for weeks now. You’re an incredibly competent commander. You’ve got what it takes. You can handle it without me.”

  Vriss’s eyes widened, and he grabbed my hands in his. “I don’t want to handle it without you.”

  I smiled, but my eyes were tearing up. I pulled Vriss in close for a hug. “It’ll be alright. Anytime you come back for resupply, or shore leave, or whatever you like, you’ll know right where I’ll be. This is… this is an opportunity.”

  “How is this an opportunity?” he said, his voice shaking with sorrow. “All I see is the light of my life getting left behind.”

  “You’ve spent months grooming me for leadership. Maybe… maybe this is the kind of leadership I’m suited for.” I pulled back so I could look at him, so he could see me put on a happy face. “Arxur and prey living together. Think about what that could mean! For us, for the new Dominion we want to see.”

  Vriss’s jaw dropped, but it slowly curled up giddily at the edges into a smile. “Prophet’s Mercy, you want to corrupt a few more of us, don’t you? That’s what this is all about.”

  I laughed a little, as the new plan took shape. “If we ever intend to live in peacetime, Arxur and prey need to get used to coexisting. This isn’t just a conquest anymore. This is a golden opportunity for some real social experimentation, to trick everyone into getting along together. Here on Seaglass, we can ditch the dogmatic chains of Betterment and the Federation alike and build something entirely new.” I smiled at Vriss, but it was bittersweet. “One more step towards our happy ending together,” I said.

  Even Vriss was tearing up a little. “A clutch of fat hatchlings,” he said, his voice shaking, “and a farmhouse with a workshop.”

  I pulled him in for a tight hug. “I’ll be right here. Anytime you need me.”

  Vriss tucked his maw in behind me, wrapping me tight. “I’ll fight all the harder, knowing every resupply brings me back to you.”

  We held onto each other for a few minutes longer before we took a step back and hashed out the new plan.

  “Alright, who do you want to keep here?” asked Vriss.

  I thought hard. I still barely knew most of the troops under my command, but I had some hunches. “Laza, for starters, if you can spare her. I’ve been building a rapport with her. I think she’s already questioning Betterment’s teachings. I can probably nudge her over the edge.”

  Vriss grimaced. “Laza’s my best infantry commander. She’s hard to spare, but she’s loyal. If things go to shit, I’d sooner have her guarding you than anyone else. Who else?”

  I shrugged. “One of the new recruits showed promise. Zillis. Surprisingly talented pilot. Only hunter who was willing to get over her preconceptions and fly a prey-built patrol craft. Maybe she’ll get over a few more.”

  Vriss shrugged. “Her? Yeah, sure, whatever. After Laza, I thought you’d want someone else a bit more on the elite side, since you’ve got to make a small team work.”

  I wracked my brain. I barely even caught any other names. “I mean, he’s not my first pick for playing nice with prey, but Kitzz is going to bedridden for a week at this rate. We may as well keep him here.”

  Vriss nodded. “And if you get injured, he’d be the only person on the planet who knows how to practice medicine on an Arxur. Good idea. Anyone else?”

  I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine after those names.”

  “Fair enough,” said Vriss. “Let’s go over the personnel list, then, and bump the total up to a solid twenty. Small enough to be manageable, large enough to keep you safe. I can drop more off later once you’re done corrupting the first batch. With the Chief Hunter indulging all these…” He struggled for a moment with a foreign word. “Conscientious objectors, I think the humans called them?” He rolled his eyes. “The pacifists. The point is, we’ve got militarily useless people to spare. Dumping them here might at least get them to work.”

  I nodded and put my holopad down on the desk space between the security terminals. “Makes sense. Alright, pull up a stool. Let’s pick out our first twenty apostles of the new way.”