Proximal Flame's Fiction

It was the last. It had been one of the first, and now it was the last. It was speeding through the cosmos, scarred repair systems attempting to regenerate its sole vital system. It was not intelligent enough to reflect on what had led it to this point, nor introspective enough to consider the weight of the data it carried. It if had been either of those things, it just may have gone mad with grief.

“Fine. If it will make you happy, I’ll reassign the 181st to system defence duty and restrict her access to classified material, but I will not bust her down for groundless fears. As soon as there’s some solid evidence that she’s been co-opted, I will act. Not before.” “That is, of course, your right,” Hunt replied frostily. “I simply hope that you don’t come to regret that decision.”

Natalya took a deep breath. “The first race that the Evea’shi met kidnapped and enslaved them. The second killed the first and would have killed them. The third species they met deceived and attacked them and then were killed themselves. In this formative period of their cultural, every species they encountered has done nothing but use or try to kill them. And so, every species that they’ve met since, they consider to be their Enemy, to be a threat to them – if not now, then in the future – because they’ve never known anything else.”

Arykka pressed her good hand against the window, evaluating Natalya warily as the other woman approached her prison. After a moment, the redhead laid her palm over the Evea’shi’s, resting her forehead against the transparent metal. It felt cool on her skin. “What,” she began, taking a moment to keep the anger out of her voice. “Did you do to me?”