Chapter 1: To Love A Child Like A Human Would

Beep. Beep. 

The siren rang above their heads as a craft came closer. I could only stare at the human who starred pensively at the deck’s monitor. Seven small dots appeared at the edge of our monitor, approaching quickly. Considering the infamy of the ship we are on, that, in of itself, was strange as ships flew or halted as it prepared to send a communication request for a timely surrender.

The captain turned his head to look at his subordinates flanking the doors. Nodding to the larger Prithran’i, they turned back to me. Their blue eyes tinged in the lightest green, probably a cybernetic implant as is popular among their star faring kin, examined my still features. It was not strange, this open stare. I’d used the word “debating” as if it was a question of availability or convenience. As if, it was a pilfered sucrose dollop from one of their small stores that lined their markets and not a sentient being belonging to a member of the Galactic Alliance.

Swoosh. Twi-teep. 

The hatch opened in the vacuum of the command deck. The many legged Aumuri of the Esklan race approached with a flurry of flailing tentacles. Yes, highly unusual. Win’wa’d wondered what crisis would drive xer into such a state. The calm and often collected race had a reputation of gentle silence and efficiency, making them the ideal administrator for the behemoth ship. My l’eis tightened at the thought of crisis now that I have barely settled into my new ship. 

“Captain,” xe hissed while shoving the terron screen in the much shorter human’s face,” it’s a contingent from  the Galactic Alliance.” 

“And? Didn’t we pay our voyage taxes just a few turns ago?”

“Well, they sent a message. It’s not about taxes.”

Truly strange. Why would they not send a communication request instead of directly contacting the ship administrator?

The captain grunted as he struggled to push the terron screen away from his face. His expression turned from, what I had learned over my time aboard, confusion to alarm. His cybernetic eye flashed before turning back to me. 

“Captain?” I asked pensively. 

“Go, ready the guest quarters. We will be welcoming some guests.” Captain stood up from his seat and motioned for the smaller Prithran’i to press a small hexagonal button on the side of the hatch. 

“And you, sir?” Aumuri looked over with her many eyes.

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you going to change, sir?”

“Nah, why would I dress up for those alliance b-stards?” The captain replied nonchalantly. 

Tu-doom. The internal speakers were open. 

“Attention all crew. A fleet of seven ships is rapidly approaching. They contain General Aurora de Vos, serving under the Inter-galactic Court of Justice. They will be boarding soon. Those related to the case of I-2346B are highly encouraged to attend the welcoming ceremony.” 

Tu-doom. 

“Captain, sir.”

“Hmm, Win’wa’d ?”

“Are we going to be alright?” 

“Why wouldn’t we? It’s just a simple inquiry. It’s not a big deal.” 

With simple words of assurance, I thought that it would truly be nothing special. All things considered, I knew something was wrong. The ICJ was a branch of the Council best known for their strict adherence to norms and procedures. Their appearance and lack of routine communication meant that this would definitely definitely, most definitely be a big deal. 

“Salute!” 

“Stand down,” a slow soft voice came from the head of the congregation. Among the stalwart and rigid Mmnoei servicemen, in their simple black leather uniforms and polished helmets made of thick stone, was the petite figure of a human female with long curling fur coming from the top of her head. Unlike those around her, she was in a soft cloth textile that wrapped around her body and lower appendages. Lost was the typical ICJ uniform save for the draped jacket on her shoulders displaying the heavy crystal clip on her left shoulder - general. 

“Hello, Captain Lloyd,” her eyes squeezed as she flashed her teeth in a small smile. 

“Welcome aboard, General de Vos. We hope you enjoy your stay.” 

“Mhm,” the human general hummed as she shifted her weight between her two lower appendages. She turned to observe the mass of different species watching a few klepts away. Many of them were families of many of those lost from the previous incident. Among them was a Prithran’i cub who watched us from behind their parents, their small digits gripping the textile of their parent’s clothes, their barely grown antennae peeking out. 

This seemed to please the human general as she turned to one of her soldiers and shrugged her - ah - shoulders. With deft actions, they took the oppressive jacket from her and revealed the soft white textile underneath. It swept down to the ground ending with luminescent feathers from, what looks like, the large birds of the Cassian 982-B5 system. 

The human general crouched down and opened her arms wide as she squeezed her eyes at the little Prithran’i cub and made the distinct Prith clicks, calling the cub to her arms. The cub was confused,looking between their parents and the still crouched soft feathered human, waiting for a wiggle of their antennae. Just as the nodule waved, the tiny cub, in their bright protective garb, barrelled straight at the general who caught them with a short and soft laugh. Her chest shook as she brought the cub against her cheek before closing her eyes and leaning down to press her forehead against the child. 

We could not stop her. A young cub had no boundaries, their race ability was strong and still uncharted. It was dangerous for the other party, outside of their kin or professionals to allow a small cub inside of your heart. The darkness of a heart can scar a cub if you’re not careful. That is why the wealthier of them usually adorned their cubs in suppressors while most chose to adorn their little ones brightly to warn others to stay away - for everyone’s sake.

“Oh,” the cub cooed, wrapping its arms around the human general. It opened its eyes to stare at her before its antennae wiggled in joy. The human general walked towards the Prithran’i couple before setting the cub down and pushing it gently to its parents. She bowed her head, in respect of their traditions, and put an upper appendage on her chest and then the top of her head. I know this. Yes, the Prithran’i sign for forgiveness and justice. 

Not meeting their eyes, she stepped back to the center of the bridge. “I apologize for your lost ones, the victims of a grave injustice. I apologize for my tardiness. I have come to gather the names of those lost to you, to honor them and give you justice.” 

One of her soldiers, for not even a member of my species can tell them apart, stood by her side raising a torran screen encased in a glittering red slab. “Please come and write their identification codes down. Should they have names, please provide them.” The families started trickling down, forming an orderly line. Their vissages reflecting their firmness and their grief, many have not forgotten and more wish to never forget. 

I drew my attention from the parade of broken entities to look at my captain. He had drawn his lips and was - um - frowning at the sight. “Captain?” I called out, mindful of the stationary unit of ICJ soldiers five klepts away. 

“Yes?” 

“Why is the human general here?”

“Before she is a human, she is a general,” the captain murmured, leaning closer. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the Inter-galactic Council is ashamed of the incident. And, she is here to clean up their fucking mess.” His eyes swept her figure as she stood beside the raised terron slab, the glimmer of the lights making her glow like a Flittian energy entity set against her soldier’s dark vacuum. 

The ICJ was feared for different reasons than the “Whale”. They have acted as enforcers of the Council’s decisions many times before. Often enforcing the decisions and laws without much consideration for norms of a species or race involved. For the little ones of all alliance member species, they were the tales spun to discipline and correct them from folly and irrationality. For the adults or more mature members of their respective species, they were arbiters of punishment and justice that even their leaders bowed their heads to. 

It was - strange. The ICJ never conducted investigations or collected names. Even if they did, they could directly order any ship, any ship that still wished to be able to make stops in any alliance member refueling junction (sadly one cannot have access to a refueling license without being subjected to the ICJ’s purview or following their directives unless one wants to become an enemy of the ICJ and the alliance it represents), to gather that information for them. In fact, the previous case was not unheard of. It was normal for some meat-eating vagabonds and crew members to partake in some illegal acquisition of rations. There were laws already created to deal with and charge their crimes. Justice in that case was cut and dry - they did not have to come all the way here to “clean their mess”. 

Putting aside my doubts about their procedures, the human general was the strangest of them all. With her textile, which does not look very efficient or useful for combat, and her strange actions, which is many many many times stranger than typical human ilk, she stands more like an entertainment disk that was popularized on the black market , made to be stared at and admired rather than obeyed. 

Later, after the rest of the crew and the families had left the bridge,the captain and general were sitting across from each other in the meeting room. The human general stared at the ceiling as she moved her lower appendages side to side. 

“I’d always imagined the Whale to have a different vibe.”

“What kind of vibe? Did you think it would be dark and dank?”

“I’d supposed it would have more of a Mad Max vibe with like rust and dirt everywhere.”

“Are you shocked it’s clean or are you shocked we’re not a hulking junk pile?”

The human general finally met the captain’s eyes. This contact made my appendages tighten, ready to grab the p33 clipped to my side. “Both,” the human general threw her head back and laughed lightly. 

“What are you doing here, Rory?” The captain was serious, now. His features flattened as he examined his counterpart. “Why did you come here? You have everything you need, don’t you?”

“No, we don’t. Actually.”

The captain breathed in. Held it in. Let it out. Slowly. 

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“What. do. you. need?”

“No civility left, huh?” 

“Not for you, she-devil.”

The human captain leaned against the back of her seat, head tilted and eyes staring at the cup of beverage in front of her. The silence ate the room, by the time the human general spoke, all of us inside were just tense lumps of flesh.

“The captain of your crewmember’s old ship was trafficking in meat.” 

The captain sat up, wiping his face of reluctance and hate. I felt my legs trembling. 

“The whole crew knew about it. They were splitting their earnings.” 

“Everyone?” I had to interject. I did not know anything. “I never knew. I just found them eating -”

The human general watched me explode with an unfathomable gaze. “You were recommended to your post by a Watcher of your race, yes?”

“Yes, I was recommended by Watcher W’in’d’r. He assured me that it was a good post.”

She bobbed her head up and down before resting it on her palm. She continued to examine me. 

“We apprehended W’in’d’r a few turns ago. He was the broker for numerous buyers on the station he was assigned to. Every instance your ship had refueled and you went to report your voyages to the guild, your old captain would take their spoils to W’in’d’r to hold auctions for the freshest and most tender cuts.”

“No, no, no. That can’t be. We are a proud, just and honest species.” 

The human-general blew air from her nose as she listened to me try and justify the actions of my clansmen. It can’t be, right? My kind kinsman with the softest verbal tone and the calmest of presences would never do something so heinous.

“It can’t be that you’re here to interview or apprehend my crewman. You should be out catching those sons of bitches that bought and traded in - meat.”

Her face scrunched up. Insulted at something the captain had said. (I know what an insulted human looks like, their features move toward a central point and all activity stops in the vicinity.)

“I caught them.” She states plainly. “I caught them.” She repeated. 

“So, why,” the captain paused,” are you here, then?”

“I’m here to hold a ball.” This time, the human general smiled. 

In the following turns, as we played host to the human general, she and her soldiers prepared for a ball. They commandeered the deck, as the human general liked the view of the stars that framed it. Her soldiers, in their tight uniforms, swept it and covered it in colorful sweet smelling flora. (Apparently, they had brought it along because their general liked how it looked against her hair.) With the combined efforts of the highest standard of Alliance Soldiers and Aumuri, who had begrudgingly provided some logistical help, the time had come for the banquet. 

All those inhabiting the ships were invited, making it one of the grandest events I had attended. It is not common for our species to have or attend such events but since the previous revelation I am not sure if that is a good standard to base an individual’s actions on. Right now, I had thought, I had to decide for myself what I want to do, how I should act and how I govern my own individuality outside of our species’ identity. (An idea and conclusion I came to after meeting with the human-ship specific emotional counselor my captain had recommended to me.) It’s so very new to me, still, but I am more than willing to try. 

I looked around at all the crew members I am familiar with settling in. The atmosphere was pleasant and calm, soft rhythmic sounds seemed to float around as the ICJ contingent borrowed the inter-ship announcement system.The human general stood before the deck’s viewing port made of glass. Her soft silken textile against the darkness of space behind her drew everyone’s attention to her. The captain’s jaw tightened. I quickly stood behind my captain, fearing he will launch his p58 at her. 

The soft rhythmic sounds faded. “Thank you for attending this small banquet in honor of our lost ones. They left too soon and too abruptly. And, though I cannot return them to you, I can give you a small gift.” One of her upper appendages raised at one of the hatches as it opened. 

The towering Mmnoei soldiers dragged behind them squirming organisms that almost seemed familiar. 

“GAH” one of them flailed when it saw me. Watcher W’in’d’r. Wasn’t he already tried and found guilty. That other was an administrator of an alliance license office where we had paid our voyages dues. The other was the first mate on my old ship. 

Two Mmnoei carried the last one in. The writhing mass of bruised and beaten flesh fought against their grasp trying to vocalize some complaints despite the high-grade bracket silencer piercing their chests. 

Many in attendance gasped at the sight. It was brutal even for the most seasoned of journeymen. Our own ship’s first mate had covered his mouth in disgust. The females in our crew covered their eyes and turned away. Each step made a sloppy sound that had many of us shuddering. Was this the product of ICJ interrogation tactics? Was this their idea of just procedures? This state could only be the product of some of the vilest methods never brought to light or circulated among the procedures shared by the Alliance. 

“This bitc-!” My captain erupted at the steady general standing at the forefront. The human general turned to where we stood. She gave us a toothless arch before putting her finger to her lips and quickly closing and opening one of her eyes, appeasingly.

 

The soldiers grabbed the convicts by the back of their brackets and raised them off the floor adorned by gently torn flora and shiny pieces of metallic paper in the pattern called “stars”. 

The general, in her white textile of many tiny shining interwoven metallic circles, looked back at the audience. 

“When I was ordered to execute the convicts behind me, I could not decide how one should go about it. There were many ways I could have done so. None of them, I feel, would be enough for what they have done.”

The haze of confusion and disgust melted away from everyone, understanding, at last, why she was here. At the same time, they had recognized who exactly those beings being choked off the ground were. 

“So, I have come to give you a treat.” A black garbed soldier approached her with a long soft box. 

The captain's digits suddenly grasped my upper appendage, tightening around it until the circulatory veins in his digit root showed. 

The box was opened, a curved blade showing. 

“When I sent the criminals to the Council, I thought it was the best choice.” The captain whispered to me, his eyes never leaving the unfolding events before us. 

The blade was ornate yet without a gem adorning its hilt. Instead, it had a rag wrapped around it, torn and smelling of a sharp musk. 

“I thought that justice would be served once they were tried. That it was enough.” 

The general raised it above her head, unwavering. “This is the blade,” she began,” that these vile beasts used to butcher your young. They had abducted them, butchered them, and sold them like a piece of livestock. They had held auctions for each delicacy and had tasting parties around them while you mourned and you pleaded for their return. And as you were paying them to find your young kin, they had lined their pockets with their hides.”

“I thought they would become prisoners of the council.” The captain murmured, eyes growing darker and darker.

“I shall give you justice. Justice for the victims of their greed, their gluttony and their impunity.” 

“I thought they would be imprisoned for life.” 

“I shall give you justice.”

Their voices overlapped now. I was drowning. 

The brackets came undone now. We could hear the crescendo of hoarse voices coming from the convicts. We could hear W’in’d’r’s gruff gasp as he fell beneath her justice. One by one, they screamed and pleaded and begged - the air grew colder as she made her way down the line.

The captain’s digits had left crescents on my flesh. His body was tense and unwavering. Many of those watching the show with us had trembled, some had cried, many had covered their eyes. The Prithran’i had stood firm, their antennae raised. It was a sign that they were learning, watching when others had turned away. What they were learning, I was unsure. 

The sight of my kinsman, a felon though he was, helplessly stained in the purple tinge that brought us life was shocking. What concerned me most was how calm I was. I need not feel disgust as some of the other races did. I did not feel sympathetic. 

I could only watch silently as the general reached deeply inside the largest, my old captain, and pulled that I jumped. 

There, on the adorned and stained floor of the deck under the witness of billions of stars, was the distinct small bead of a Prithran’i antennae. 

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