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Mother Confessor:

Slamming hard onto the hard floor for the fifth time since this exercise began.

“Get up cherry”, Sergeant Nimix barks at me.

Her hard hands dragging me off the metal surface back to my feet. My lip split wide, and my right eye swollen almost shut.

“I don’t care how smart you are cherry,” she barks,” I want you to get in the fight! Stop letting that PFC pummel you! If you fail to touch her this time, I will personally kick your ass all the way back to the barracks, understand me cherry!”

Wiping the blood from my lip, “Yes, Sergeant”, I bark dazed.

Peering at the wiry female that has felled me five times already. I study her with my good eye. Her smugness toward me as she outranks me, displayed across her face. She is a quick one. Perhaps I can use her overconfidence to my advantage. Stepping toward the aggressive female again. Locking my gaze with hers and raising my balled fists, as we circle around the makeshift arena. Baring my gritted teeth, I growl at her in frustration. She mocks my aggressive demeanor to add insult to my injury. Watching her intently as she tenses her muscles for a first strike. Anticipating the motion as it starts to engage. I drop low to the floor as she hurls a quick volley of jabs where my head had been. I shove her ankles back, and roll to my left as she falls forward with her momentum of her attack. Catching her right leg at the knee with my left forearm, I push up. Forcing her do descend hard to the floor. I manage to gain a crouch and before she can recover from the fall. Bringing my left elbow into the crease of her right leg hard. Rising up behind her kneeling frame. I quickly lock my arms around her right arm, and twist it behind her head. Then I deliver a swift kick to her kidneys with my front legs, bracing myself on the back pair. I release her as my boots connect with her. She falls face first to the metal floor howling in pain at the assault to the organs.

In a rage at being felled she recovers roaring her contempt at hitting the floor. She rises glaring at me hotly. We lock eyes continuing this mock battle to the death. She charges in her rage. Placing a heavy downward stomp to my right front shin causing me to stagger at the blow. Using my stagger to her advantage she lands a solid punch to my diaphragm. I grunt as the air is forced from my lungs. I manage to land a blow of my own to her face in the process. Taking a pace away from each other to re-evaluate one another. Circling once more trying to read my opponent. Hoping that rage will be her weak point. Feigning a left jab to her face, she moves predictably in her anticipation of avoiding the punch. Connecting solidly with the knuckles as her face and my right fist meet in her attempt to avoid the false start to my attack. Following it up with a left forward strike to her nose. She reels back in a daze of her own. Wiping the blood that has started to flow from my hit.

She smiles at me,” Not bad, but you will have to do better than that.”

Finding my courage growing,” I am just getting started honey.”

Loosening my stance as I wait for her next maneuver. Trying to plot my own tactic in finishing this confrontation once and for all. Taking a few paces back from my opponent. She looks confused by my action. I wonder if she thinks I am conceding to her. Letting the tension build between us, I feel the power in my legs as they torque up for my next move. I move as fast as I can. Pushing my speed and then my body off the metal floor. Time slows down as I leave the metal floor. Rising up bringing my front legs high and wide. Leveling my back legs mid flight. I descend upon the PFC with force of my being. Front legs gripping her shoulders. Rear pair wrapped around her torso. We hit the metal deck hard. A jolt of pain glances through my lower legs from the impact. Now at a stop and atop the PFC like a nasty vine. I start to rhythmically land punches to her face. Ignoring her tearing hands at my back. I continue to send her face in either direction of my fists swiftly. Her efforts start to weaken under my resolve as I unleash upon her head. Her lips start to crack under my impacting knuckles. In an effect I land one blow to her right eye in an asinine attempt to have her share in my temporary loss of my own ocular sight. I relent my assault once she goes limp with loss of consciousness.

“That will do cherry”, the Sergeants voice reaches me. She sounds distant in my ears, my hearts beating hard fueled with adrenaline. I remove myself from the unconscious PFC. Her blood spackling my sore knuckles. This feeling was intense and invigorating. Feeling lighter than air, not even caring about the burn in my lip or the tenderness in my swollen eye. An awkward smile on my face. I stand at attention before the Sergeant.

“You surprised me cherry”, she says,” I thought for sure you were going to get your ass handed to you. Never seen a move like that last one before. Of course it would be unique considering most warring species have only one pair of legs. I will be damned if you don’t become one of my top trainees. Before we head to the mess, help me drag the PFC to medbay.”

“Yes, ma’am”, I exclaim proudly having made my tutor wish to further my training. Taking the left arm of the slowly rousing PFC, the Sergeant taking her right. We leave the combat arena floor. I hope the PFC won’t hold a grudge against me. After all we are ultimately on the same side.

Graxis:

Still on the bridge I watch as the small ship burns on a course toward the facility. Wishing them speed and a swift return in the glow of the disappearing craft. I was informed just before they disembarked from the hangar bay, of the Ober-Commander’s gratitude in finding the nearly invisible facility. Feeling restless I have another message sent out to the hangar. Informing the flight command to have the old soldier meet me on the bridge upon his return.

Marckus:

Watching the gas giant grow in the cockpit window of the small ship as we swiftly navigate the many moons surrounding the planet. It is quite a sight of amazement for being such an inhospitable planet. Funny how if I were to pull this stunt while still under the Confederation’s thumb, I would be subject to fifty lashes. That is to say that I have been under the rod twice before. Twice for failing to achieve goals that I was not entirely at fault for. The upper echelons thought it best to make an example of me on both those occasions. Just one more reason to take them down.

“What is our ETA for touchdown”, I ask the pilot.

“Twenty minutes as long as there are no unexpected events to avoid, sir”, she replies keeping the scout ship on target, occasionally glancing at the NAV computer and making minor adjustments to keep us aligned with the small rock.

Looking over at Dlynvacko and the reserve pilot. They seem to be engaged in a discussion over something. Probably passing the time until we touchdown. Turning my attention back to the window. Waiting in the minutes till we get our exchange completed. Eager to start really hammering my contempt out on the Confederation. To revel with the dismantling of the regime, similar as the Allies did to the Nazi party in the mid twentieth century. How uncanny that history seems to be a learning experience in how to be more emboldened with conquest and power above becoming a unified planet. Perhaps when all is said and done we will see the error of not repeating the same things time, and time again. Even if it is a thought of a crazed turncoat service man, such as myself. Even in my insane desire to redeem myself as a man and warrior. I have my doubts that we shall ever know lasting peace and equality. At least as long as there is a Terra rolling about the galaxy.

“Seen much action in your service”, I ask the busy pilot on my left.

“Not in a long time, sir. Why”, she responds back as she diligently fulfills her task.

“Then you should be happy to know that is going to change in about a month’s time, my dear”, I tell her openly trying to fill the time with small talk.

“That sounds great, sir. Hate to waste my years of training and service on running errands”, a hint of pent up aggression in her tone.

“You seem eager to get back in the thick of things. I admire that in a soldier”, I applaud her readiness to continue her career path as such. “I only wish my service not be wasted in vain. I should like to make a difference, that is why I joined the military. Never been big on killing, but I will do what is necessary. The hardest lesson I have learned in my many years of service is this: It is noble to kill in the name of justice and peace, but it is far nobler to preserve and honor life. Though it is hard to carry the burden of an executioner. True of any honorable soldier, we make some tough decisions. The choices we make affect and reflect upon us, as well as those around us. I am sure you have seen more than your fair share of hell and nightmares as well, sir. Knowing that you cannot undo what has been done. Every man in his own right would give anything to turn back time and undo the wickedness he has inflicted upon others, if he could. I am sure you know that feeling as well, sir”, she ends her brief history lesson on her terms and commitment of service.

Indeed I did know the feeling of wanting to go back and change parts of my own past.

“That is an outstanding perspective, my dear”, I commend the pilot for sharing her personal thoughts,” if only there were Terrans and Greys that thought more like you, we would not be sitting here right now having this discussion. It is a damn shame that we had to know each other under such a circumstance.”

I listen as she takes a deep breath in the few minutes left of the flight.

“There is no shame in our encounter , sir. It will be an honor to fight and die at your side.”

“And it would be an honor to fight and live at yours, miss”, I return in kind. I catch a smile hinting on her face in my peripheral vision as we make our descent on the captured asteroid.

The armor pilots had been working in tandem on trying to convince the superiors running the facility to allow us to dock, and it seems that they had succeeded. Our small ship slowly entering the midsized landing bay. The two war frames took up defensive patrol around the complex upon us being near the surface. I felt a little more at ease knowing that they were lumbering in a security perimeter, keeping a sharp eye out for anything hostile.

Once the bay door had finished sealing us inside, and the chamber pressurized. We were greeted by the administrators of the facility. I exited first to meet them, and explain the purpose of our intrusion upon them. Upon my boots hitting the hard metal floor of the hangar deck I notice the anger and confusion on their collective faces. Some of them I could not begin to classify their species or origins. Taking a few deep breaths and making my way toward them. We meet at the middle of the deck some fifteen meters from where we landed.

“What is the meaning of all this”, a beige skinned being bites out in the silence.

Where in the hell was he speaking from? I Ponder as he has no visible mouth on his face. Setting the thought aside for another time and place. Placing my hands out and open in front of me to show that I am not looking for trouble.

“First off buddy, do you know whom you address”, I cut back at the odd beige creature, who has his many limbs crossed in anger.

“No, I do not know. Care to enlighten me”, he returns coldly. His handful of peers take a step back as I reach into my coat for my pistol. I do not have time for this kind of shit. Was hoping for a tad nicer welcoming committee, seeing as they do not get many visitors. At least not outside of supply ships. Most of which are filled with foulmouthed ass hats that seem to hate making cargo runs and everyone around them for simply asking for the service they provide. I begin playing with my large caliber friend in front of the angry administrator. Dropping the magazine and eyeballing the empty barrel through the breach.

“I am Ober-Commander Syrilious, and you will address me as Ober-Commander, understand me administrator. If that is too hard for you, then sir will be equally acceptable”, I address the strange beige creature, slamming the magazine back in the heel of the weapon to add effect of my position.

“Either you extend invitation to me, or I let Teewdle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum wreak havoc on you and your chemistry set,” I assert my authority further,” as I am sure they were very forthcoming in getting you to afford us landing clearance.” I made sure that the two armor pilots were well informed on making it a non negotiable point, short of allowing them to fire a few warning shots.

“Apologies for my colleagues bitter disposition to outsiders”, a bizarre purple skinned amphibian like creature with oddly Terran like features chimes in on the discussion,” Please allow us to entertain you, sir. How might we be of assistance?”

Starting to like this purple administrator as they seem to understand how to extend pleasantries to foreigners. Placing my heavy friend back in the holster, I signal the group to excuse me a few moments.

Turning and heading back toward the scout ship, annoyed this was not going as smoothly as I had hoped it would. Covering the distance quickly. I halt at the open port. I summon Dlynvacko to join me. She gathers up the small satchel with our bargaining exchange inside. We then cross back to where the waiting administrators are.

“This is my associate Dlynvacko”, I introduce the young surgical tech,” we should like to have a meeting with you and your brilliant scientists. As well as make a trade for a few things.”

They exchange pleasantries with her.

“Very well then, sir,” the purple skinned amphibian begins,” I will assist you myself. My constituents will be more than happy to get back to their duties. If you please come with me, sir, and miss.”

Looking over at Dlynvacko meeting her with questioning eyes. She silently concedes back with a shrug of unknowing of her own.

Allowing the Centurian female to take front as we follow the bizarre purple administrator. It leads us into the facility.

“Would either of you like refreshment before we get down to business”, it asks playing the part of gracious host.

“A strong cup of java would be nice”, I request still a bit tired from being up so early.

“And for you miss”, it asks Dlynvacko politely.

“Water, thanks”, she replies in kind.

It has us wait for it in a large commons area adorned with odd and whimsical posters dotting the walls. They fall short on my old soldiers sense of humor. Dlynvacko seems to find some amusement in them, letting out small fits of laughter. On the other hand, I do not find it amusing at the portrayal of a small furry creature hanging from a branch like a man beginning pull-ups. Underneath it says ‘hang in there’. Perhaps it fails to be funny when you have spoken those words to so many that have died on the battle field. Almost as bad as having told the same lie over and over again to the dying that they are going to make it. Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself in this odd environment. The young tech however finds the insulting poster comical.

“That is a good one, is it not sir”, she says to me through fits of giggles.

“Not to me it isn’t, my dear”, I say flatly. Turning to me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“Why is that, sir”, she asks confused at my response.

“It is the lie on many a dead mans ears. Not so amusing from a soldiers point of view”, I explain my opinion of the offending imagery.

“That is true, sir”, she replies,” I suppose it would be more amusing to you if you were in a different profession than that which you currently hold. It is meant to be a source of inspiration in a whimsical context to remind others that even when times seem hard and tasks undoable. That they should not give up trying to get through those hard times, and solve the complex tasks,” she defines it from her perception.

Rolling the notion that she presented in my mind a few moments.

“I had not thought of it from that angle before. Taking a look at it through your eyes, it does seem mildly entertaining. Thank you my dear, for sharing your thoughts”, I tell her as a small smile creases my hard features.

A short time later our odd purple host returns with our beverages. “I apologize to keep you waiting so long. I had to find out what ‘java’ was. Not very familiar with the slang terminology of things”, it steps closer to Dlynvacko,” here you are miss.” Handing her a disposable cup filled with water.

“And you, sir, as you asked a strong cup of coffee. Fresh brewed and very hot.” I accept the cup from our host. “As per your request for an audience of my best and brightest is being assembled as we speak. Takes a little while to pull some of them away from their research. I will be back once they have all assembled in the conference room. Sometimes you have to use as some would say a ‘firm hand’ on a few of them”, it explains to us. With that he departs back into the corridor.

Back into the semi private state once more. I raise my mask letting it rest high on my forehead. Holding the cup of scalding brew up, the steaming aroma fills my nostrils. The contents smells much more aromatic and decadent as opposed to the mud I partake in regularly. Taking another long nose full of the exotic liquid. Taking a sip off the cup, the flavor just as pleasant as the aroma. A faint array of nuttiness and sweetness baths across my tongue. Feels good to know that I am getting any caffeine at all. From what the administrator has said they probably go through quite a bit of coffee. Working long stretches trying to solve the various puzzles and enigma that they want to answer, or invent. Taking a more generous draw on the cup. Wonder what they work on way out here in the shadow of the ringed gas giant. Probably best to not put to much thought into it as they do not hold contract with any military.

Looking over at Dlynvacko setting across the room thumbing through a magazine of some sort. Left behind by one of the scientists no doubt taking a break from his work.

Hearing footsteps coming closer, I quickly down the remaining contents from the small cup. Pulling my mask off my forehead. Glancing to where the administrator had wandered down I see it’s return to us in the commons area. I watch as it stops at the mouth of the corridor.

“We are ready for you now. Again I apologize for the wait”, the purple administrator offers gesturing us to come with it. Dlynvacko places the magazine on the small end table and gathers up the satchel. Picking up the small disposable cup she downs the remaining contents. Letting her take point, I follow her lead in disposing of the cup into a small waste receptacle near the entrance to the long hallway.

We traverse the long hallway in silence. Our foot falls the only sound echoing softly off the brushed metal walls. The walk is long and drawn out in the glow of the florescence. Passing by many offices filled with odd and whimsical things littering desks and shelves. Consoles displays lay in wait for their operators to return. This whole place in stark contrast to the ordered and Spartan battleship waiting in berth at the outer edge of the small solar system.

Taking out the com-link from my coat pocket and placing it in my ear. I listen to the chatter over the radio signal. The armor pilots on patrol are making petty bets and bragging about their skills in piloting the large machines in outlandish ways. The small scout ship is much less exciting. The two pilots are just flatly chatting about random topics out of boredom. Good to know that nothing exciting is going on. Taking the earpiece out and replacing it in my pocket.

We arrive at the double doors to the conference room. The purple host opens the door on the right and invites us to enter. Passing through the threshold my eyes gaze upon the large room occupied by a very long slender table lined with chairs. The vast majority filled with many of the scientists from the vastness of space. I recognize a few of the species occupying the seats. There sat thirty of the intellectuals from all over the universe, leaving ten chairs unoccupied at the massive table. Spotting a pair of Volgans that looked out of place as they are very large beings. An odd sight in this company with dark brown leathery skin bulging and powerful musculature. Deep set dark eyes and thorny covered skulls. Hard to tell their gender without first hearing them speak as they have gender specific traits in their language. A handful of humans most female. Not going to speculate whether from Terra or Mars. A few Centurian dotting the mix. Four bright orange Zemosians. Their delicate features and large bright green eyes that seem to glow. The vibrant skin like a smooth cobblestone, and nearly flat facial structure. No discernable nose beyond what looks like slits just above their thin darker hued lips. Three Uldivarians at the far end of the table. Very flat creatures emotionally. Having a very slender build, and lengthy features. Heads shaped like inverted rain drops, brow always furrowed as if in a constant look of concentration. Steel blue skin stretched far too tight across skeletal frames. Eyes so black that space seems much brighter in comparison. To add more to them they have four very long arms adorned with oddly formed hands, each four absurdly long digits.

As for the rest of the company I am unfamiliar with the exotic species. A translucent blue creature little more than a meter tall. Hard to look at it as one can see the endoskeleton beneath the skin, along with other parts of unclothed anatomy. A mid length growth of what appears to be fiber optics covering it’s ovoid shaped cranium. Changing colors randomly, may be a form of mood display. Not really sure. Another of the beige creatures with no real facial features, just stalked eyes. Though this one appeared to be in a better temperament as it seemed to smile with its tetrahedral pupils set against dull yellow irises. For some reason it had a red ball attached to its blank face with a barely visible string of sorts. This addition made it look most comical. Making our way to the head of the table at the far end of the room. Preferring to stand, I pull the chair out for the young surgical tech. I notice one more oddity to add the already bizarre spectacle. A much smaller table set about a meter from the head of the table. Occupying it are some very small creatures. One resembling a mouse wearing glasses and sporting a long gray beard. A wild gray mess of fur or hair sticking out as if just electrified from its tiny head. A pair of dull green octopus like beings setting like little squirmy gelatinous balls, tiny glasses of water set before them. A shifty arthropod with a lanky mustache extending from either side of fang like mandibles, fidgeting with its many tiny three fingered hands. It looked like a dodgy centipede unsure of what was going on around it. Tiny goggles firmly dimpling its soft scaly head just behind beady dark red eyes. Next to the fidgeting centipede set an ant of sorts about twenty centimeters or so in height. It reminded me of the native inhabitants on Ceres, but smaller and more refined. Having a developed look about its face while still retaining insect like appearance. He like the mouse being, had chosen a more sophisticated look instead of looking like a typical scientist in a lab coat. The sleeves rolled up to the middle of his tiny forearms. The collar of the dress shirt starch stiff, and adorned around his small throat a velveteen light blue bow tie. What really set him apart from the rest of them that I could see. Is that he had metal prosthesis on his tiny caramel head where his antennae should be. Across from the smartly dressed ant was the final participant. Wearing thick soled boots firmly planted on the table top, a vibrant green and blue gecko. The length of the boots stopped just below the knee, and were strapped instead of laced. A mid length black skirt with barely visible neon green pinstripes. Form fitting tee shirt depicting some grotesque imagery and odd font title across her small bosom. To complete this ensemble of undisciplined garb, a collar cinched firmly around her long neck. Topping her small head a strange wig, if that is what one could call it. Look to me like tubular dread locks interlacing of black and florescent green. For a brief moment glancing at the non conformist lizard, she reminds me of Captain Graxis at his desk feet atop it. I smirk to myself at striking similarity between the two. Though she was very miniscule in comparison at about twenty six centimeters tall.

I noticed that Dlynvocko had deposited the satchel on the smooth surface infront of her.

“Shall we get to business”, the purple amphibian administrator chimes in.

“I would not have it any other way”, I respond back placing my hands on top of the young surgical techs chair. Taking a deep breath peering out at many species that seemed out of place together. Some would be at each other’s throats or more primal as nature dictates eaten under normal circumstance. The sight of so many differences getting along as one makes me feel that anything is possible, for these circumstances are anything but normal.

“I am only here on business, but not of contract in the sense of a military officer. My associate miss Dlynvacko will present my offering, as she is more qualified to speak of it than I. Afterward I shall make my asking of a small favor in return for what miss Dlynvacko will offer you in trade. I should like to keep this transaction civil, otherwise I will acquire what I wish with or without your help. I trust you understand that I will negotiate to a point, but only on fare concession of course. Now if you will please hear out my associate on what we wish to bargain with”, I open the meeting and address them politely.

Keeping an eye on the other occupants in the room, wondering if this will work. I notice that the little obscure female lizard has kept her little yellow eyes on me since we made our way to the head of the table. What an odd little creature she is.

Listening as the young Centurian female relieves the satchel of a large folder. It impacts the table top with a moderate thud. Glancing down at the over flowing file bursting with what appears to be a large number of smaller folders. The small vial of blood still hidden within the satchel.

“Good morning, and apologies for tearing you from your work”, the young surgical tech opens,” out of curiosity, is anyone here familiar with a being known only as the Mother Confessor?”

Hell of a first question to follow up a rather text book opener. The silence in the room is deafening, as she waits for a reply from the gathered intellectuals. In the long pause the ant removes a small cigarette case from his breast pocket, and produces a small lighter from his trousers. It makes a tiny click in the still air as he opens it. Following it with the small metallic sound of striking and closing the lighter upon lighting the little cigarette. Closing the case and placing the lighter on top of it. Taking a long drag on the smoldering addictive stick, he blows a thick plume of gray smoke through his nose.

“I have heard of such a person”, the little being starts taking another long draw on the small tobacco filled tube. Standing up on the table top he continues in a voice that defies his stature,” The Devil in the Darkness is what she was known as on my planet.”

A slight inflection of anger and sorrow in his speech he starts untying the bowtie about his neck.

“Before I came here to this facility, I was a Master Sergeant in the Andilusion Marine Corp.” Taking another long drag on the cigarette, placing the now unraveled tie on the table next to his cigarette case and lighter.

He begins pacing as he continues,” I have made no mention of this fact before now, as it is a past I long to leave where it should remain in the past. Truth be told I had not thought about it before now, before you made mention of such a vile creature.”

“Pardon me, but is that how you lost your…”, the surgical tech interjects.

“No, miss. I lost my antennae in a battle. The only reason my people even know of such a being”, he returns to his point,” is that a recon team managed to extract enemy invaders classified data from a makeshift base of operations at the end of a war. What we found in the encrypted files was a nightmare of things. The Mother Confessor included. Whoever dictated the contents regarding her, did so in an adoring passion. I will let to your imagination of what was dictated within that swath of data. “

He pauses flicking the ash off the burning cylinder, and taking another draw off it. He follows it up through a plume of smoke,” To some she is but a horror story of consequence. Others think nothing more than a legend or myth. Not to disappoint any of my fellow colleagues, but the fairy tales are very true and she is very real. Problem is no one knows what the demon looks like, or where she dwells.”

He concludes his little speech taking another draw on his smoke, no more than a third of it left. Chatter fills the room. A mass of anger, fear, and doubt cast in the community in the large room.

The spastic Centipede shakes in his seat three pair of his hands gripping the edge of the small table edge. His beady eyes swivel around in paranoid fashion.

“Quiet”, I bark at the chattering mass. The little retired soldier consoles the quivering centipede.

“Everything is alright Steve”, he offers putting an arm around the scared arthropod. Popping a smoke from his case, he hands it to his peer. The other takes it shakily, and places it in his odd mouth. The ant man lights it for him, before placing the small lighter back on the table.

“Take it easy guy, she is not here, and she can’t get you. Cut back on the coffee a bit as well man, you’re wound up awfully tight.”

“Thanks, Ryniss. Been hitting the caffeine pretty hard the last few months”, the jittery creature replies.

The gathered company’s eyes are upon me as the room falls silent.

“Even though the stories about the being are true, it is not so at this moment in time. Now she is military property of the Centurian Armed Forces. She made this choice of her own volition, and has denounced her title as well as her imposed vocation. Dlynvacko please inform the company of your findings”, I regain the order of the meeting and offer the young surgical tech an opening to share the information gathered on the pale blue woman.

Opening the bulging file,” I have condensed the compilation of the data the science officers and I have recorded about the female”, she explains splitting the large stack of folders in half.

“If you please each take a copy of the information on her. You will find that she is quite an enigma as well as being a product of superior bio engineering. There are many questions including the origin and the physiology of such a being. As far as the data is concerned there is a technological use that is far beyond anything we have ever seen”, Dlynvacko sums up the synopsis as the packets are being passed down the length of the table.

The many scientists now thumbing through the contents of the information. There is a dull buzz in the silence. Many hums, murmurs and how is that possible, along with clucking of tongues. They are slowly coming to the realizations that the Centurian Science Officers and Dlynvacko had documented on the subject in question. Then one of the Zemosions speaks up above the dull roar around the table.

“An inquiry if I may miss Dlynvacko?” The young surgical tech nods her acceptance in answering the orange creatures question. The others gathered at the table start to fall silent, so that they too may hear what their unexpected guest has in response.

“Firstly, miss. How did you come across this pale blue creature,” adding credulity to the statement by the picture of the subject being in bust fashion,” and do you have a sample of tissue or the likeness of that we may test?”

Taking a deep breath Dlynvacko replies,” She was brought aboard our ship by the soldier behind me. Having saved her from the Confederation’s grasp on Ceres. Yes I have a vial of her blood, it was all I could spare. Though it should be sufficient for you all despite it being no more than a mere hundred milliliters to analyze as you see fit.”

Fishing the small glass ampoule from the satchel, and displaying it before the intellectuals. The dark blue liquid seems to absorb the light from the overhead fluorescents making it appear almost black.

“What is that you require from us, for this sample of blood and modest information surrounding the donor of it”, one of the Uldivarions asks cold and flat.

Seeming to have struck a point to finally get down to my original premise of my visit.

“I should like to trade these articles for a Terran vessel, and two lab coats. One of a Terran and one that may fit a Grey”, I reply just as flatly in respect to the Uldivarion.

A hint of a smile curls the end of his thin taught lips at the dull tone and delivery of my response. The others had taken notice of what I had to say to the dull creature. Then a debate breaks out amongst the group as to whether my offering is worth the few items I seek to acquire.

“That seems a bit steep in bargain for a bit of blood and some incomplete stepping stones”, a middle aged Terran woman interjects.

“It may seem that way to you my dear lady, but I however intend to use the indicate items for a chance to aid me in bringing the Confederation to its knees”, I reply to her, hoping to not have to tell the story in full.

“And why should we give up such resource for your agenda, sir”, the elderly Terran beside the woman demands.

“Do you have family on Terra”, I ask more open to the present company than to the man whom asked.

“Why yes, the few Terrans you set in company with do. What does that have to do with your dealings, soldier”, the same elder demands looking upset at my question.

“Tell me good miss, do you know the condition of your lineage at this very moment”, I thrust another question at the elder man heated.

“No, why has something happened” ,the question leaves his fearful tone.

“If my instinct is correct as to what the Confederation is up to at the behest of the Chairmen, Terra is in cells and chains. Perhaps worse as the information I have is at least fifteen and change old now. Not at liberty to discuss it with you as you lack clearance to such matters. No one has to know about what has transpired this day, nor of my ever being here. I will be nothing more than a memory, on whatever you decide. Just remember the clock is ticking and I have lost precious time trying to use tact in asking for a scalpel, as I intend to save lives not tear them apart. Ultimately the choice is yours, and yours alone. However I am placing at rough estimate thirty to fifty lives on your shoulders. You don’t know them and you cannot simply solve an equation to save them. Should they still die or worse based upon your indecisiveness, or are they just casualties of circumstance? Think real hard before you come to a conclusion, because I know for a fact those few in comparison to this whole damned facility seem miniscule. We came here for help, and if we cannot receive aid from such ‘esteemed’ individuals as yourselves then perhaps you deserve the fate of those that do not have a choice or hand in their own”, I vent in frustration.

Gathering the empty satchel in front of Dlynvacko, and lifting her from her seat roughly by the arm. Annoyed that I thought that we should find some assistance to make our hit on Callisto to amount to more than that of Pluto. Now I am not so sure. Gruffly bringing the young surgical tech out into the hall, and slamming the false wood door hard behind us.