They Answered The Call

Orion Nebula

Habitable moon of rogue gas giant

1,576 light years from Earth, year 123,002 B.C.

Shillan dreaded the coming first light as the gas giant began to break over the horizon. For over forty rotations, the evil ones held sway over the Yivahsi people and brutalized them.

The evil ones made them build ships and weapons, working them until they died from starvation and exhaustion.

They forced them to strip mine their beautiful world. Where once forests full of the wonders of life stretched to the horizon in all directions, there was now lifeless nothingness to the horizon.

The whole world was like this—great festering wounds that dotted the landscape, no longer full of life and biological treasures. -The Yivahsi were proper stewards of their world, following the commands of the life-giver to cherish her creation and to only take what was needed.

The evil ones did not cherish the world, and they took what they wanted with unbridled greed. The Yivahsi were lucky in one regard; the evil ones could not eat of their flesh without suffering a terrible death.

Strangers from other planets were brought to their world as slave labor, and they told the Yivahsi what the evil ones did to their own worlds. They told of how they were used for food and sport and as playthings to satiate the lust of their captors.

The Yivahsi did not feel blessed, and they cried out for the life-giver to free them from the clutches of the evil ones.

The first light grew stronger, and he prepared himself for another lightday of suffering, lashes across the back, and wondering if he would live to see another first light.

The very top of the gas giant was now peeking over the horizon, and he avoided looking at what used to be a beautiful sight that filled their sky.

The multitude of colored bands that gifted them with light and warmth was now a harbinger of anguish, a promise of a lightday filled with pain and privation.

He left his crude hut and joined the other miserable Yivahsi that shuffled out of their barely sufficient accommodations. They used to live in the massive gomlah trees, in great villages that dotted the intertwining branches of thousands of tree limbs.

The trees would absorb the warmth of the lightday and slowly radiate the captured heat, keeping them warm during the freezing nightday.

The evil ones made them cut down the trees and forced them to live on the ground, in huts that did not keep them warm when the lightday ended and the nightday began.

They wouldn’t even allow them to gather the dead wood from the trees they forced the Yivahsi to cut down. They were not allowed to make fires for warmth, and the overlords had armed drones that scanned for signs of fire use among the populace.

Any huts that showed signs of a fire were destroyed, as well as every other neighboring hut within a thousand hands. It did not take long for the Yivahsi to stop trying to make fires for warmth.

Every lightday, fewer Yivahsi than before would come out of their huts because their sickly bodies would freeze to death before first light brought warmth again. Shillan had a mate and three younglings once. The younglings perished first, unable to survive the freezing nightdays for long.

His mate disappeared a few lightdays later. He knew she was dead when she did not return after her work that nightday, and he did not look for her. He knew in his heart that she was gone.

Mourning her in secret, he buried the promise bracelet she had given him when they exchanged life vows. He dug a full-size grave alongside the bodies of their three younglings and placed the bracelet within before filling it back up.

It was of little consolation to him that his younglings were now reunited with their mother, and he marked out his own burial plot next to where he buried her promise bracelet for when his time to join them came.

A Yivahsi he did not know came to his hut two lightdays after his mate had failed to return, speaking in terrified whispers and looking at him with haunted eyes.

She told him that the overlord had violated his mate and then strung her up and slowly peeled her skin off after it grew tired of hearing her whimpering as she mourned for her recently departed younglings.

It had taken her a half-lightday to finally perish, and then the evil one had her body fed to the workers, forcing them to eat her raw flesh under pain of death.

She begged his forgiveness for devouring his mate and filling her empty belly. She had younglings to look after, and she was too much of a coward to defy the overlord.

After listening to her terrible words, he gave her the forgiveness she was seeking from him and thanked her for risking her life to give him closure.

Shillan prayed with her, asking the life-giver to wash away her sin of cannibalism as the Yivahsi woman wept with shame. He forgave her truly in his heart before hugging her and giving her a portion of his meager rations to feed her younglings.

Shillan then forced himself to forget about his mate and the younglings as he suppressed his grief and longed for his own death at the hands of the evil ones.

He could not bring himself to commit suicide, as the life-giver abhorred the taking of one’s own life. He would die soon and reunite with them; he could feel his end coming nearer. It was getting harder to survive the freezing nightdays as his body grew weaker, and the unceasing hunger gnawed at his belly.

After exiting the freezing hut, he fell in line with the other Yivah as they shuffled towards the factory the evil ones made them build, and he kept his three eyes pointed at the ground as they neared the perimeter.

It was best to avoid looking up or around, for the evil ones were capricious and prone to murdering a Yivahsi at the slightest provocation, such as accidentally looking one of them in the eyes.

As they neared the factory, there were sudden bright flashes above them that lit up the still dark sky and illuminated the ground he was blankly staring at.

Shillan flinched at the sudden, loud booms that followed the flashes and threw himself onto the floor with the others. He turned onto his back and gasped as his eyes took in the scene above him.

There was a massive black ship floating above them, and he wondered if the evil ones had finally decided to eradicate them after all and bomb them again like they did when they first came.

Bombs did not come out of the black ship and end his life. He saw thousands of small black objects coming out of the massive vessel and heading towards the ground as small balls of fire.

The fires went out as they came closer to the ground, and he continued to stare at the objects as they maneuvered wildly to avoid the weapons being fired at them by the evil ones.

Shillan could not make himself move, and he continued to track the objects as they came ever closer. Suddenly, the objects came apart, and out of them came smaller black objects.

Focusing the lenses of his far-seeing eye, he zoomed in on one of the new smaller objects that were now at the height of three gomlah trees if they were stacked on top of each other.

He could see it more clearly as it continued to descend. The object was now one gomlah tree height above the ground, and it activated something that slowed down its fall.

All the other thousands of objects did the same, and Shillan was frozen out of his momentary shock by the sounds of snarling evil ones coming near him.

He flipped back onto his belly and crawled in panic to a nearby garbage pile to hide. The snarling and hissing grew louder, followed by the sounds of the evil ones firing their weapons.

Pulling garbage over him, he hid his body as best as he could and looked in the direction where the objects had landed among the rubble of the tree city in the distance.

The evil ones were all around him, firing their weapons and hooting at each other as the black objects from the ship emerged from the rubble.

Shillan remained completely still, and he could smell the musky scent of the evil one that was less than twenty hands away from him.

Terror flooded through him as he kept his eyes on the new objects, and they sprouted arms and legs. His confusion mounted as he realized that the new objects were beings. Were they new evil ones?

The new arrivals started moving gracefully as they closed the distance between them and the evil ones, firing silent weapons that sizzled the air with their passage.

He heard a grunt from the evil one that was near him, and a new scent caused his nose to wrinkle as he smelled it. It smelled like burning flesh, and he couldn’t help himself; he had to look.

Turning his head slowly, he looked in the direction of the new scent, and he blinked all three of his eyes in disbelief at what he saw.

The evil one was lying on its side, its glassy eyes wide in shock. Where its chest used to be was now a gaping hole that wafted smoke from the blackened edges, surrounded by untouched flesh.

Shillan continued to look in the direction he had turned and saw more evil ones falling as the weapons of the new arrivals continued to find them and sizzle as they burned through their flesh.

Turning his head back to look at the killers of the evil ones, he froze. One of them was less than fifteen hands in front of him.

It had four limbs like he did, and there was a shimmering aura surrounding it that flashed repeatedly as the evil ones continued firing at it, their weapons failing to harm it.

The shiny black being made a guttural noise that caused his blood to run cold, and it charged the evil ones firing at it, two glowing blades erupting from the ends of its upper limbs as it closed the distance.

Shillan followed its movements and watched as it smashed into the four evil ones that had continued to fire at it impotently.

The two blades moved with a quickness that he could not believe, and he grew fearful as the black creature dismembered the evil ones with ease.

It tore the head of the last one from its neck with an audible crack, and it threw the head at a nearby group of evil ones, making the loud guttural sound again.

The evil ones, the undisputed masters of his world for so long, fled in terror from the new arrival when the dismembered head rolled among them.

The large black creature aimed and fired, shooting all six of them in the back before they got more than thirty hands distant. He moaned in terror at the sight, sure that an even worse evil had come to their world to claim it as a prize.

The black creature spun around at the sound of his moaning and crouched down, aiming its weapons at the garbage pile he was hiding in. A small object came out of the top of the creature and pointed at him, slowly sweeping from side to side while emitting a thin, pale green scanning wave.

Shillan had been holding his breath in fear. He gasped again as his lungs demanded more air and the small object pointed directly at him, a laser fluorescing across his eyes and temporarily blinding him.

The black creature stalked towards him, and he resigned himself to his coming death. At least these new evil ones seemed to kill quickly, a form of mercy after the usual drawn-out executions the evil ones inflicted on his kind.

He closed his eyes and beseeched the life-giver to bring his soul to his family, thinking of their faces as they waited to welcome him to the afterlife. The sounds of the creature walking came closer, and he smiled for the first time since the evil ones came as he waited for his head to be torn from his neck.

I am coming to you, my family. Soon we will be together again, and our suffering will end. Shillan thought to himself as he waited for the killing blow.

The sounds ceased, and he felt the creature pulling him. He offered no resistance and went limp as he waited for it to end his life. It dragged him out of the garbage, and he kept all three eyes closed to deny it the pleasure of seeing the fear within them.

He heard it speak—much softer than the guttural noises it had made before. He couldn’t help himself, and he opened one eye.

It was looming over him, at least three Yivahsi in height, and it continued to speak to him in its strange language. Shillan opened his other two eyes as his confusion grew at its actions. Why has it not killed him yet?

He remained still as one of its hands reached up to the side of its shiny black head and pressed against it. The covering over its head started disassembling and folding back, and he could now see its face.

It had dark brown, smooth skin and wiry black hair on the top of its head. He looked into its two eyes, seeing the whites surrounding smaller circles of dark brown.

As he looked into its eyes, his fear dissipated. It continued to speak softly at him, and he could see the bright white teeth of its mouth as it vocalized. They were not sharp and jagged yellow like the evil ones; they were squared and perfectly aligned, curving gently towards the back of its jaw.

The creature reached down a massive hand towards him, and he knew it was offering the hand to help him get up. Shillan reached out both of his hands slowly and gripped it, feeling the coolness of the hard covering.

It pulled him up with ease and helped him to stand. He clung to the hand, trembling uncontrollably while the creature continued to speak softly. It pulled something off its body and offered it to him after removing the top and shaking it. Shillan could hear liquid sloshing within the container.

Shillan took it hesitantly and peered inside the hole with his third eye. It was filled with a clear liquid, and he moved it down to his nose and sniffed deeply.

It was clean water. He had not drunk clean water since the evil ones had come and polluted their rivers. He threw his head back and drank it greedily, feeling the coolness of it as it spilled down the sides of his whiskers.

He was mortified by his greed when he realized that he had drank it all, and he looked down at the ground in shame, expecting to hear anger in the soft voice when it realized what he had done.

The suited being took the container from his hands with surprising gentleness and placed the opening against a port on its stomach. After a few moments, it removed the container from the port and offered it to him again.

It was filled with more water, and he took it gratefully and sipped at it, still ashamed of his prior greed. He looked back up at the creature and flicked his head in thanks before looking around them.

There were still sounds of weapon fire in the distance, but all around them was nothing but the bodies of slain evil ones that had fallen to the might of the new ones.

Shillan spotted another black being heading towards them, this one loping on all fours with incredible speed. Fear gripped him as it drew closer, and he moved behind the kind creature, gripping the hard body covering with his hands.

The new arrival came upon them and stopped fifteen hands away before rising to stand on two legs like the other one.

Its head covering folded back, and Shillan cried out in surprise at what the new one looked like as it walked closer. This one had a long snout and hairy face, and its yellow eyes were filled with predatory intelligence.

Shillan saw the sharpness of its teeth as it spoke the same strange language to the kind one, and he trembled with fear as he imagined it tearing him apart.

The kind one replied to the other creature, and it pulled a small device off the webbing on its chest and handed it to the kind one, careful not to look at Shillan, who was still hiding.

The kind one pressed several buttons on the device and then slowly turned around before crouching down to face Shillan. It spoke into the device, and Shillan heard his language coming from it.

“Do not fear us, friend. We are from the Galactic Federation, and we are here to liberate you from the Balrikan. I am Magnati. My name is Tiriyan, and my friend behind me is Wan’sho. Her name is Grilkka. What is your name?”

He listened intently as the words came from the device, and he was overcome with emotions at the realization that the salvation the Yivahsi have been fervently praying for had finally come.

Shillan reached forward and hugged the Magnati in front of him, his short arms gripping onto the massive torso as he felt himself losing control.

The Magnati put his massive hand on his back and gently rubbed it as he continued to grieve for his family. They had been so close to being liberated by their new savior, why did the life-giver take them from him before they arrived?

The Wan’sho came over and pressed her head against his body, whimpering softly as she nuzzled him with her hairy face. Shillan tensed in fear until he looked into her eyes and saw nothing but understanding within them.

He found it strangely comforting as she continued to nuzzle him, and he sobbed freely now that he was finally able to display emotions for the first time in over forty rotations.

The Yivahsi were terrified of showing any feeling around the cruel overlords. The evil ones killed anyone who displayed emotions they did not like or considered signs of weakness.

When he felt like he could speak again, he answered the question. “My- my name is Shillan. Thank you for answering our prayers.”

The kind one unfolded his arm from around his back and looked at him, seeming to have a difficult time deciding on which eyes to look at as he attached the small translator device to his filthy tunic.

Shillan found it funny and cackled, surprised that he still knew how to do so as he spoke. “Any eye is fine, but I see best out of the two bottom ones for close distances.” Tiriyan laughed in response, and Grilkka added in her own bark to the laughter as she went back on all fours and peered into his face.

“Will you go with my friend, Shillan? She will take you to safety where we are setting up our base. There is food, water, and prefab shelters being erected now. We still must clear the area, and it is not safe for you here.”

He bobbed his head, and the kind one spoke again. “Where is your family? Can you show me on a map where they are?”

The mention of his family crushed him. He looked down at the ground, ashamed at not being able to protect and save them, before looking back up and answering the question.

“I have no family. My mate was killed by her overlord seven lightdays ago, and my three younglings froze to death one quarter rotation ago.”

Grilkka growled lowly at his words, and her neck fur puffed out. He saw Tiriyan share a meaningful look with her before turning a face that was no longer kind back to him.

He spoke again, his voice no longer soft but hard and full of hate. Shillan cowered slightly at the menacing tone before he remembered that they were here to liberate them and straightened back up.

“I am deeply sorry we could not come sooner to save them, Shillan. All I can promise is that we will kill every Balrikan on your planet and avenge the deaths of all who died by their hand. Please go with Grilkka; I have some hunting to do.”

A cold chill went down his spine at the words uttered by Tiriyan, and Shillan bobbed his head again before looking at Grilkka.

She turned around on all fours and squatted her hind legs down a little before speaking over her shoulder. “Do you see the carry handle beneath my neck joint, Shillan? It is rounded and metal.”

He quickly looked, seeing what she was talking about right away. “I see it.”

“That will be your handhold.” She replied. “Climb onto my back and hold onto it tightly with both hands. You can rest your feet on the suspensors along the sides of my chest.”

Shillan looked at Tiriyan again, who bobbed his head slowly. He slowly clambered onto her back and gripped the carry handle tightly before placing his two feet on the suspensors and gripping the hard sides with his knees.

“We will meet again, Shillan.” Tiriyan said to him before turning around and running towards the sound of distant weapons firing at a pace that surprised him.

“Are you ready, Shillan?” Called out Grilkka. “Yes.” He replied, ashamed for lying to her but trying to be brave for his new friends. She started walking, and he gripped tighter as he shimmied a little bit to ensure he was properly seated.

She started trotting faster, and he was surprised to find that it was not too difficult to stay on her back as she increased her speed. He had been sure he was going to slide right off her back.

He leaned into the wind as she loped towards the city limits where the new arrivals had first landed, and he looked around at the dozens of dead overlord corpses littering the landscape as they went past them.

Grilkka crossed the distance quickly, and soon they entered the outer edge of the destroyed city that used to be there.

There were hundreds of black figures around them, and Grilkka slowed down her pace as the large mounds of rubble forced them to change direction repeatedly.

She continued to make her way deeper into the former city, and the number of black-clad figures increased as she followed the path outlined on a holographic map displayed in front of her.

They reached a large opening, and he realized that they had entered where the city square used to be. The local Yivahsi used to gather there for cultural and religious festivals, as well as citizen assemblies to vote on important issues.

There were many new structures, and a multitude of black figures were moving all around them as they continued to build their base. Shillan started to notice that even though they were all wearing the hard, black suits, there were distinct differences among the new arrivals.

Some were smaller than him, and others were even larger than the kind giant who saved him. Some had four arms and two legs, and he saw a few that had what looked like two heads.

Who are these people? He thought to himself as he stared at them all in wonder, watching them all work together to construct the base.

His people had only recently discovered the secret to faster than light travel, and they had only met two neighboring species that had come to initiate contact with them when they detected signs of an FTL drive activating in their system.

They were nice people, and he hoped that the overlords had not found and conquered them like they did to his world. Grilkka had slowed down, and now she stopped in front of the largest structure.

“Shillan, this is where your people are being taken care of for now. Please go inside; there is a Ma’lit doctor inside rendering aid, and there is also food and fresh clothing.”

His stomach rumbled at the mention of food, and the empty pit that had been his constant companion ever since the overlords came to his world roared back to life, demanding to be filled.

Shillan carefully slipped off her back and stood there nervously, suddenly afraid to go inside and see his people. He was ashamed to be the only one to survive out of his whole family.

He was one of the fortunate ones, and he did not want to face others who had also outlived their families like he had. He knew they would see him and wonder why he had survived while their own families didn’t.

Grilkka noticed his hesitation and sat on her haunches, peering deeply into his two bottom eyes. She had whites like Tiriyan, but the centers were a golden yellow, and she had black slits in the middle.

“Shillan, you are a survivor. You will never stop feeling like you do not deserve to live while your family and friends have passed. The Balrikans killed my lifemate and our seven pups, and many of my friends as well. Every solar day I wake up and ask the Creator to take me instead and bring them back.”

She then looked down at the ground, her normally erect ears drooping down as she continued to speak. “This is our lot in life now, Shillan. The only thing you can do now is keep them alive in your heart and live for them. That is what they would want you to do.”

He stood there and listened to her words, feeling a deep bond with her over their shared pain as she continued to look down at the ground. He could feel the sadness within her, and he wanted to comfort her.

Shillan leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, feeling her warm, soft fur press against his whiskers. “Thank you for saving me, Grilkka.” He whispered before letting her go and leaning back.

She looked back up at him, peering into his eyes again before slightly leaning her snout closer and quickly licking his face. He was surprised by the action, but he forced himself to be still and accept it.

Shillan instinctively knew it was a sign of affection. It felt sacred to him, and he cherished the gift she gave him after enduring the malignant hate of the evil ones who took all that was good and holy from his people.

Grilkka stood back up on all fours. “If you need anything, tell someone to contact me. Grilkka, 4th Legion, Orbital Drop Cavalry. Can you remember that?” She asked as she made her ears go back up.

He bobbed his head, and she turned and started walking away. She turned back to look at him one last time, her eyes filled with understanding, before she disappeared behind a prefab structure.

Shillan turned back around and faced the opening, still afraid to go in. He reached a hand up and touched where Grilkka had licked him, remembering the feeling of her coarse tongue against his skin and gathering courage from her words.

Clamping down on his nervousness, he walked through the opening. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, the first thing he noticed was the smell of food. It was overpowering, and the pit in his stomach demanded he fill it.

There were dozens of stalls with beds and equipment lined up on both sides and a long table in the middle that had a variety of liquids and trays of food.

Milling all around the sides of the table were Yivahsi filling their plates with small amounts of food under the watchful eyes of black-clad Federation personnel who prevented them from gorging on the food.

Shillan headed towards the table of food, his hunger overriding his thought processes. He had barely walked ten hands when a being with a white and red suit stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

A voice came from the suit. “Welcome to Processing Building Two. I am Doctor Fril’nir. Please follow me.” The suit spun around and headed towards a set of beds with all kinds of strange equipment surrounding them.

Shillan looked at the table full of food longingly before reluctantly following the doctor, his stomach begging for sustenance. The doctor was waiting for him and pointed at a bed. “Please sit here, and I will examine you.”

There was a small step on the side of the bed, and he used it to get himself up. He had barely gotten himself situated when the doctor started pulling an array of what looked like advanced technology all around him and activating them.

The doctor was making musical sounds as the suit hands played over multiple holographic projections and made adjustments to the equipment.

Shillan was intrigued by the noises the doctor was making and worked up the courage to ask what it was doing. “Healer, what are those sounds you are making? It is nice to listen to.”

“What?” The doctor replied absentmindedly as the suit hands continued to tap on the floating displays. “I am humming a Magnati lullaby that mothers sing to their babies. Do you not have music?”

“We did. Before the evil ones came. They made us destroy all our drums and gomlah woodwind pipes and killed anyone who dared to make music.” Shillan replied sadly as he thought of Lissan.

His neighbor Lissan was an accomplished pipe player, and his beautiful playing brought joy to all who heard it when they walked by his house.

A half rotation after their conquest, there was one nightday when the evil ones had ordered all the villagers of their tree to cast their instruments into the bonfire or be executed.

He remembered seeing all the musicians of the village lining up and watching them from the branches above as they each cast their instruments into the fire one after another.

All except gentle Lissan. Always shy and soft-spoken, Lissan loved his pipe more than life itself. When it came his time to cast the gomlah windpipe into the flames, he did not do so.

Instead, he put the pipe to his lips and began playing, staring at the overlords with hate-filled eyes as his tune played proud and strong. The song could be heard clearly over the roaring fire as it fed on the instruments that were sacrificed to it by their owners.

All the villagers were shocked at Lissan’s act. They could not believe the timid musician, who was afraid to talk to women and look the men in the eyes, had such defiance within him.

Even the overlords seemed shocked, and they did not seem to know how to respond at first as they looked at each other and hooted among themselves.

As Lissan continued to play his pipe, one of them finally seemed to recover from its momentary shock and strode over to Lissan, baring its yellowed fangs in anger.

Lissan bravely glared at the overlord, and the villagers could see his hands trembling as he continued to play his tune and move his fingers over the holes. The overlord moved his hand so fast that it was almost impossible to see in the flickering firelight and snatched the pipe out of Lissan’s hand and lips.

There was another flash of movement, and they all gasped at the sudden sight of half the windpipe sticking out of Lissan’s third eye. The other half had pierced his brain and penetrated through the back of his skull, covered in bright green lifeblood.

Shillan would never forget the smile on Lissan’s face as his body collapsed into a heap at the overlord’s feet, nor the hiss of anger from the overlord as his lifeblood splashed onto the killer’s red uniform.

The other overlords then came over and unceremoniously dumped Lissan’s body into the fire. No one else defied them after that.

Shillan realized that the doctor was talking to him, and he looked back up to face it. “Forgive me, healer, what did you say?”

“I said, would you like to hear the words of the lullaby?” The doctor asked again as the equipment started droning. “Yes, please.” He replied as he tried to push the memory of Lissan’s death smile out of his thoughts.

The doctor began to say the words while humming the tune, and he listened to them as they were translated by the device still on his tunic.

Baby of ours,

I am your mother.

Baby of ours,

This is your father.

A gift you are, from above,

You grew in me, with our love.

Always know, we will cherish you.

Always know, we will love you true.

Little Magnati,

It is time to sleep.

Little Magnati,

Here's my heart to keep.

Baby of ours,

I am your moth-

“Please stop. I cannot listen anymore.” He whispered quietly, feeling himself losing control of his emotions as the lullaby made him think of his mate and younglings.

“Of course, I understand.” The healer replied as it continued to attach wires to his head. “Do you consent to an engrammatic transfer?” It asked after it had finished attaching the wires and a very small device on his left temple.

“What is that? Transfer what?” He asked, confused by the question. The healer stepped back four hands and pointed to one of the devices.

“This is an engrammatic transfer system. It will allow us to copy your memories for posterity. We do this to record the atrocities committed by the hateful creature so that the galaxy would never forget what happened to your people.”

“Is it dangerous? Will I forget my family?” He asked, staring at the mirrored faceplate of the healer and wondering what it looked like.

“No, and no. It is completely safe, and you will not forget anything.” the healer replied, his hands hovering over two blinking displays.

“Then I consent. When do I get to eat?” He asked, his stomach pangs starting to grow stronger again.

“Soon.” The healer replied. “Please hold still.” There was a sudden flash of light inside of his mind, followed by droning from the machine that was waving around his head. There was another flash of light inside his head, and then the healer removed the wires, leaving the small device still attached to his left temple.

The healer spoke again as it continued to move the equipment away from him. “I am leaving the engrammatic recorder on; it will continue to transcribe your thoughts until you decide to remove it.” The healer then typed for a few moments before turning back to face him.

“That’s it; you are finished. Thank you for being a good patient, and you can go eat. Take this with you and give it to the table attendant.” The doctor said before taking a small metallic chip off a nearby tray and holding against a small panel.

“That’s it?” He replied in disbelief as he hopped off the bed onto his feet. The healer responded as it held the chip closer for him to take.

“Yes, you are in relatively good health despite your malnutrition. Thank you for agreeing to the transfer; it will allow us to better prepare for the traumatic stress disorders that will arise among your people when this is all over.”

Shillan did not really understand what the healer was talking about, but he bobbed his head like he did as he took the chip before flicking his head in thanks.

He hurried away from the healer and headed right to the food table attendant, holding out the small chip with trembling hands as his closeness to the food induced anxiety.

The attendant took the chip and inserted it into a pad it was holding. There were several beeps, and then the attendant took the chip back out of the pad and handed it back to him.

“You have been cleared to eat seven kal-nuts in weight of food. Please follow the limit guidelines and place the plate on the scale. Each plate is one kal-nut in weight.” The attendant said after consulting the pad.

Shillan was surprised that they were using the Yivahsi weight measurement, and he flicked his head in thanks before turning around and darting towards the stack of plates.

He grabbed one and got on the line, his hunger pangs turning painful as he waited for his turn to take food. He finally was next, and he grabbed the spoon and filled it with what looked like dilnah stew from the food tray.

Shillan weighed the plate on the scale, and it totaled five kal-nuts in weight as the scale displayed Yivahsi numerals.The smell of the spices in the stew made him salivate; he had not tasted any spices since the overlords came.

He subtracted one kal-nut for the plate and carefully scooped the rest of his allotment onto the plate, ignoring the impatient muttering behind him as he finally got 6.98 kal-nuts of food in weight.

He glanced at the watching attendant, who bobbed his head at him in approval. He turned around and walked to one of the small tables where other Yivahsi were eating.

The other Yivahsi barely looked at him as he took an empty seat; they were all too engrossed by their food to be courteous and welcome him to the table as custom demanded.

He was not the least bit slighted by their lack of decorum. He lifted a spoonful of the stew and put it in his mouth, savoring the taste as he slowly chewed the first real food he had since the overlords arrived.

Shillan took his time, making sure to chew each spoonful of stew until there was almost nothing before swallowing it. Waves of pleasure emanated from deep inside of him as the food traveled down to the first of his two stomachs.

He was wondering how the new arrivals were able to make so much food when he saw the table attendant walk over to a large machine on the side and press on its pad a few times.

There was a low hum followed by a subdued flash of light within the machine, and the attendant opened a small door before reaching inside of it.

It removed its hands from the machine, holding another steaming tray of dilnah stew, and walked the tray over to the food table. It placed the full tray on the table before removing an empty tray and bringing it back to the machine.

They can make food out of nothing. No wonder they were able to defeat the evil ones and make them flee. Why didn’t they come sooner if they are so powerful? He thought as he continued to look around.

There had been a steady stream of new Yivahsi arrivals as they were rescued by their new friends and brought to the base, and it was starting to get crowded inside.

His plate was now empty, and he got up and followed other Yivahsi as they placed the dirty plates into a nearby bin, adding his own to the growing pile. A nearby attendant then directed them to line up and follow it.

Shillan and twelve other Yivahsi fell in line and followed the black-suited attendant out of the structure and towards an even larger structure, almost two hundred hands away.

He looked up, and there were now three of the massive black ships floating in the sky above that had dozens of small, fast-moving ships exiting them and heading in multiple directions.

Shillan looked back down and followed the Yivahsi in front of him, ignoring the accidental kicks from the one behind him as they reached the new structure and entered it.

This one was filled with beds along both sides, and he walked towards an empty one, claiming it. On the bed was a single article of clothing and a large, fluffy piece of fabric. The attendant was speaking loudly, and he listened as the translator device changed the words to Yivahsi.

“On each bed is a single-piece uniform and a towel for bathing. The showers are in the structure next to this one. Please take both with you and dump the clothes you are wearing into the incinerator before showering. After you are done, put on the jumpsuit and pull on this tag.”

The attendant held up a uniform it was holding and pointed to a small attachment hanging off one of the arms before continuing.

“The tag will activate the fibers, and the suit will conform to your body. Leave your translator devices on the bed you have selected and place your palm on the scanner next to it.

Please state your name twice while the scanner takes a genetic sample, and then go to the showers. I will be your attendant for now. My name is Yan-gith, and I am Slikaathi. Any questions or issues you may have, please bring them to me. That is all.”

The attendant walked away and stood by the door, waiting for them to scan in before leading them to the showers. He looked around the bed and saw a glossy black rectangular object on the side.

Shillan placed his hand on it, and it powered on. He then said his name twice. “Shillan Domreth. Shillan Domreth.” The scanner flashed and then beeped, and above it appeared a small hologram of his name. He picked up the jumpsuit and towel, joining the others that had scanned in and already started to gather around the doorway.

When everybody had lined up, Yan-gith led them to the structure right next to the one they were just in and quickly showed the incinerator location and how to use the showers before heading back outside.

He peeled off his tunic, carefully avoiding looking at anyone as he did so, and pushed the filthy cloth through the receptacle of the incinerator before heading to an empty shower stall. Shillan pulled on the string hanging from the showerhead above him, and a stream of clean, warm water came out of it.

He stood there for a while, exulting in the luxurious sensation of water cleaning his body for the first time since the evil ones arrived and polluted the rivers and lakes where they used to bathe every day.

They quickly found out that the toxic runoff from the overlords’ factories and foundries would burn skin and poison them when the aquatic life started dying and rotting, further polluting the waters.

Soon after their arrival, the shores and banks were filled with the rotting corpses of the local terrestrial wildlife that drank from them in desperation as they suffered from severe dehydration.

His people stopped going near the death waters that they could smell from thousands of hands away, and soon they were all covered in soot and grime. Smelling the foulness of themselves and others became part of their lives, and they endured their terrible filth as best as they could.

Shillan pressed against the dispenser on one of the stall walls and lathered the soap on his body, staring down at the drain as the soap removed the filth and turned the water black.

He soaped and lathered himself repeatedly until the water running off his body was finally clear before reluctantly pulling on the string again and turning the water off.

Shillan wrapped himself in the soft towel and stepped out of the stall before heading to the row of basins along the other wall and activating the dental dispenser that Yan-gith had shown them how to use.

A disposable tooth cleaner popped out, and he placed it under the dispenser to fill the head of the brush with a thick, clear paste. He remembered the instructions Yan-gith had given during the demonstration, and started awkwardly rubbing the brush along his disgusting, filthy teeth.

The Yivahsi would use the young shoots of the taroh plant by fraying the ends and rubbing them along their teeth. The shoots had medicinal properties that prevented tooth decay and freshened their breaths.

The taroh plant had a symbiotic relationship with the gomlah trees, and they disappeared when the gomlah tree forests were cut down to fuel the factories and foundries.

Shillan brushed his teeth until his gums started to bleed and the basin was flecked with bright green lifeblood. He used his third eye to peek at the sinks next to him, seeing that the others were doing the same thing.

After rinsing his mouth one last time, he quickly dried himself off and put on the oversized uniform before clasping the two sides of the torso slit together. The magnetic slit sealed itself, and he pulled on the tag.

The uniform shrunk to accommodate his gaunt body, and the material was soft. He moved around in it, relishing the feeling of wearing clean clothes again.

He left the structure and went back to his bed. His name was still displayed above the scanner, and he sat on the bed for the first time, shocked by how soft and pliable the thin mattress was. Yan-gith came back in after everyone had returned and waited until things were settled down before addressing them.

“On the doctor’s orders, the meal you had will be the only one until first light. There are concerns of refeeding syndrome and gastrointestinal distress. You will all be scanned by the doctor again, and if all goes well, you will be allowed to have two meals.

When you are ready to sleep, place your hand on the scanner again and say the word sleep three times. This will activate the privacy field around your bed and block all light. Please be courteous to your neighbors; the field does not block sounds for safety reasons. Are there any questions?”

A Yivahsi closer to Yan-gith bobbed her head and spoke.

“Why are some of you still wearing your head coverings and others are not? We are grateful that you have come, but it is important for us Yivahsi to see the faces of others for trust to develop. Even the overlords showed their terrible faces to us instead of hiding them behind masks.”

Yan-gith bobbed its head as the Yivahsi finished asking her questions and answered. “The Galactic Federation has many different member species within it. It was decided by our leadership to slowly reveal ourselves to you over the next several days to avoid creating panic and possible revulsion by forcing you to look upon the faces of many different beings.

There are also some species that are required to stay sealed within their suits, as there are microbes on your planet that will make them very ill and possibly die if exposed to these microbes.” Shillan raised his voice to be heard over the murmuring of the others.

“Are you one of those who are in danger of falling ill? I have already met Grilkka and Tiriyan, and I would like to see your face as well if you are comfortable with removing your covering.” He noticed that the others were staring at him, and he felt his face go warm with embarrassment at the sudden attention.

Yan-gith did not respond right away, seeming unsure on how to proceed. Shillan started feeling ashamed for putting pressure on it to show its face. What if they have hideous faces? He was just about to apologize and ask to be forgiven for his rudeness when Yan-gith finally spoke.

“I will remove my covering if that is what you wish for me to do. I apologize ahead of time if you find my appearance offensive or frightening.” It lifted one of its four fingered hands and activated the head covering.

The head covering started to disassemble and fold back behind the head, and Shillan’s shame became stronger at forcing the attendant to expose itself like this. As the covering folded back, he saw a small mouth first, with two holes above it. The covering folded back completely, and he now saw Yan-gith’s face.

Its skin was glistening with moisture and pale blue. It had dark red eyes on the sides of its narrow face, like the horned rilath that used to eat the vine plants that encircled the trunks of the gomlah trees.

Shillan got a sense that Yan-gith was of a people that lived in or around water, and he was utterly fascinated by the fleshy spines that bisected its head from the top and continued down past the neck joint. “I hope my appearance does not cause you distress.” Yan-gith stated timidly as it looked around at the Yivahsi assembled in front of it.

Shillan answered him. “I find your appearance wonderous. Thank you for allowing us to see your true face. I hope this is not rude of me, but are you male or female?”

The other Yivahsi bobbed their heads in agreement, and Yan-gith looked at him before answering. “I am male, though we give birth to our brood after Slikaathi females transfer the fertilized eggs to us for gestation.”

Shillan gasped in delight at the amazing revelation, and Yan-gith smiled at them, displaying thick, square teeth within its small mouth.

Yan-gith looked like he was just about to say something when a piercing alarm erupted within the structure and the lights dimmed. Yan-gith looked at them, his red eyes filled with worry as he started yelling.

“Line up in two lines, quickly! Stay low and do not deviate from my path, I will take you to the bunker for your safety.”

Panic gripped the Yivahsi as the alarms continued blaring and there was a general rush towards the closed doors. Yan-gith yelled out again for them to remain calm as his head covering came back over his face and sealed it.

He forced himself through the mass of panicking Yivahsi and turned around. His suit amplified his words, and the Yivahsi nearest to him retreated from the booming voice as he spoke again.

“Two lines. Now! Do not force me to use the anti-riot field on you!” As he was yelling, he raised a small stick that had been attached to the waist joint of his suit and pointed it at them menacingly.

The threat of violence managed to reduce some of the frenzy, and they all started to comply and fall into two lines. He spoke again, still pointing the weapon at them. “Stay low and stay behind the person in front of you. Grab onto the back of the uniform in front of you, and do not let go.”

He turned around, and the door opened, allowing in the sounds of battle and explosions that seemed to be too close. He crouched down, and we all did the same. He darted forward, and we all followed, the base around us in chaos as black-suited personnel ran towards the perimeter.

Shillan noticed that they were all armed now, and fear gripped him as a massive explosion erupted nearby and buffeted them with the shockwave.

Yan-gith led them to a structure that seemed too small to accommodate them and waved his hand in front of a scanner next to the metal doors. The doors slid open, and he stood to the side as he urged them to go inside.

Shillan went past the threshold and saw that there were stairs leading down with a railing along both sides, and the stair width was just enough to allow two Yivahsi to walk abreast.

He gripped onto one railing as he descended, getting angry at the Yivahsi behind him that was practically on top of him and making him almost fall repeatedly as he crowded him.

He got to the bottom of the stairs and pressed up against the wall to let the ones behind him enter. He looked up the stairs to see where Yan-gith was.

Yan-gith looked down at him with his mirrored faceplate and yelled to be heard over the explosions. “Get inside, now! Pull down the yellow handle on the inside to seal the bunker. I will come back for yo-

Yan-gith was violently knocked down as he was slammed on the side by a dark red figure that was hissing loudly. Shillan froze in shock at the sudden sight of an overlord as he heard Yan-gith grunt from the powerful hit and get thrown out of view.

He heard them screaming and hissing as they struggled with each other out of sight before the sound of weapons fire erupted and Yan-gith went silent. A moment later, the overlord came back into view, his red uniform covered in pale blue blood. It looked down the stairs at him, its black eyes glowing with malevolence.

It hissed at him and charged through the doorway, and he was violently yanked into the bunker by multiple hands, striking his head against the doorframe as he was pulled through the narrow opening.

He fell to the floor and heard the bunker door slam shut with a loud clang, cutting off the hissing screams of the overlord that was charging down the stairs. He suddenly felt the terrible pain from striking his head on the doorway, and he blacked out.

He woke up, gasping for air. He looked around in a disoriented panic before terrible pain pierced his brain, causing him to grab his head and scream out in raw agony.

He rolled over to his side and fell off whatever he was lying on, feeling himself fall before smashing his face against the floor and causing even greater pain.

A wave of nausea hit him, and he vomited, begging for the pain to stop as he whimpered and drooled. He tasted the disgusting bile, and another wave of nausea came, making him retch.

He was roughly jerked up off the ground, and he feebly tried to defend himself as he felt the back of his neck grabbed within an excruciatingly painful vise grip. He tried to remember where he was as he was dragged by his neck, his limp legs scraping against the hard floor.

He realized he could only see out of two eyes, and he panicked again, trying to reach up to touch his third eye to see if it was still there.

His hand was swatted away, and he cried out from the pain of the impact. It felt like a solid piece of metal had smashed his hand, and he stared at the moving black floor through watery eyes, unable to lift his head to see where he was.

A terribly loud, emotionless voice boomed, startling him so much that he voided his bladder from fright. “You are a foolish child. Do you know how much you have endangered yourself? You are lucky the meeting ended earlier than expected, or I would have arrived to find your mind irrevocably damaged beyond repair.”

He was shoved onto his back, blinded by the sudden light above him. Something was stabbed into his neck, causing him to scream out in pain again as he tried to lift his arms to fight off his attacker.

He looked over at where he thought his attacker was, seeing it for the first time. It was a large, menacing dark gray suit, and he recoiled in horror as he saw multiple lenses turn towards him.

It had a vicious-looking needle probe in a raised hand, and it stabbed him right where his third eye would be. He screamed in agony before whatever he was injected with paralyzed him, and he went limp, no longer able to scream or move.

As the encroaching darkness came to take him, he stared at the suit looming above him and was powerless to move away as it brought a reflective mirror towards his face.

He reeled in shock at what he saw. He had dark, smooth skin and only two eyes. He looked like the Magnati Tiriyan, and the dread grew as his mind rejected the reflection he was seeing. The needle probe was still sticking out above the bottom two, but there was no third eye there. The voice boomed again.

“You are Ray Buncomme. You are not Shillan Domreth. Your name is Ray Buncomme, and you are a Human ambassador representing the Republic of Humanity. You need to remember who you are.”

His last thoughts before the blackness took him were filled with disbelief as he fought against the lie. I am Shillan. I am Shillan Domreth. My mate’s name was Yregna. I buried our younglings with her. I felt their stiff, frozen little bodies crack as I forced them into their death repose. I am Shillan Domreth, I do not believe your lies, I am Shil-

The blackness subsumed him, and he was no more.