Having the Boss Over for Dinner

Location: Hegemony Ship

Aliens: Rivan, Rechin, Terrovid, Sauropsidian

“Typical,” Rok says, staring at the plate of food in front of him. It was never warm to begin with, but it’s certainly gotten colder.

 “Careful,” I say in a whisper beside him. Once a month, the captain chooses a section of the crew to dine with. This time, it’s the security crew. The table is lined on either side with Sauropsidians, Terrovids, and Rechin like me.

 “Captain incoming,” Lia says, scurrying back to her seat. Her eyes move independently of one another, doing their best to look casual. She has applied something to her scales to make them shinier. Captain Horl enters the room and we all stand at attention. Any other captain would tell us to be at ease, to not make a fuss. They might even apologize for making them wait. But Captain Horl isn’t one for humility. He takes his time, going the long way around to the head of the table, inspecting each of us.

 “Please,” he says, taking a seat, allowing us to do the same. A plate of still-steaming food is brought over to him by a mess crewmember. It’s a large cut of meat seared and sending savory smells throughout the room. I mind my manners and take the utensil beside my plate. I take a small bite of the dead-eyed fish and then replace the utensil on the table. I’m so hungry I could eat a dozen just like it.

 “Tell me, Lieutenant Hai,” the captain says and all the utensils at the table freeze mid-air. Rox looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

 “Yes, Captain?” I say, sitting up as straight as possible.

 “How are things on Albireo?” Captain Horl asks. I can feel his mind trailing behind his words, trying to see into mine. I assume it’s not a coincidence that I received a transmission from my brother today. He spoke in Rechin, disabling translation filters. They screen all of our communications, but there’s not a Rechin on the Oversight detail as far as I know.

 “I just heard from my brother today, sir,” I say, as if he didn’t know it. “He says the Anguillars and Cephalogs are still giving them trouble.” I feel him grope about for more information, but I replay the message in Rechin, trying to drown him out.

 “Ah, troublesome little pests, I know,” the captain said, cutting into his meat. Red myoglobin pours out onto his plate and I see several of my cohorts’ eyes dilate. The captain takes an excruciatingly long time chewing the bite, loudly savoring it. I wonder if my interrogation is over. But of course I’m not that lucky. “What are they doing about their pest problem?” he asks. That really isn’t his business, but I try not to even think it.

 “He doesn’t tell me specifics, sir,” I say with a chuckle and a shrug. “He’s protective of the Richen military’s tactics. Never know when a signal might get intercepted.” Several of the others nod, knowingly, trying to back me up.

 “Now, Lieutenant Hai,” the captain says, slicing off another bit of meat. “I believe that’s not exactly true. You were fairly high up in the Richen military before you were chosen for Hegemony enlistment, isn’t that right?” ‘Chosen’. More like kidnapped. Technically I was conscripted. Shoulders around the table hunch slightly in tension. I finish the tiny bite of fish I have and take a long gulp of water.

 “That’s correct, sir,” I say. “I was a,” here, I falter. I say the Richen word for it and the captain squints his eyes slightly. “Essentially a staff sergeant, sir. But now that I’m not among the ranks, I may as well be a civilian, sir.” He doesn’t like being challenged. I can tell his gentle prodding with his mind has turned into fervent clawing. I conjure the image of the captain, tied up on the ground, one of my feet resting on his face. I’m so hungry I could eat him whole. The captain slams a fist on the table and a few of the other crewman jump slightly. Lia’s eyes are wild, trying to look literally anywhere other than me or the captain.

 “Enough!” he shouts. “You’ll tell me what the Richens have planned or I will pull it out of your fat skull,” he says.

 “You’re welcome to look, sir,” I said, knowing full well he was already prying. Richens are by no means the bloodthirsty idiots the rest of the races take us for. It takes a calculated mind to be a predator. And we don’t open our minds to prey. The captain stands and walks to be behind my chair. Several of the others actively cower, leaning away from me. Rok remains still. The captain’s hands appear on either side of my head. “Please, sir,” I say quietly. “Don’t touch me.” I’m taking deep breaths.

 “Shut up,” the captain shouts. “Hold still, you ingrate,” he says. His fingertips touch my skin. I get the full brunt of his telepathic connection, barreling through my defenses. My mind goes dark. I see the concerned looks the others have, some covering their mouths, some clenching their fists so tight their talons are cutting into their palms. And then, there’s nothing. Vast and empty black.

 I blink a few times and shake my head. I taste blood. I look down and my uniform is covered in bright green drips and splashes. I’m standing now. The others are scattered around the room, mostly congregated on the wall behind me. There, below one of the windows, is the captain. His amber eyes have gone blank. A pool of verdant blood has formed under his right arm, which is missing, ending in a ragged stump. I’m still hungry.