The UIC Diaghaltha hummed with a deep resonance that carried through the water-saturated air of the Cephilusk decks. On the bridge, First Shoaling Lahnkush watched the tactical display as the UIC Tabith. The wounded, arrogant little human cruiser began its slow, assisted crawl toward the gate.
His skin, usually a vibrant orange-red, had settled into a more muted, contemplative hue. He felt a lingering irritation in his nodules, a physical ache brought on by the sheer "yumanity" of Captain Malone and his crew. Arrogance. Impulsivity. Paranoia. These were the hallmarks of a species that had been allowed into the Concordat far too early. They saw enemies everywhere, because they were, by nature, their own enemy.
"The humans have reached the gate, First Shoaling," a subordinate reported, their tentacles rippling in a gesture of dismissal. "The drones have reported a sixty-four per cent improvement in the primary hull breaches. They will survive."
"A pity for the Concordat's reputation," Lahnkush hissed, the translator converting his gnarled, wet vocalisations into a cold, clinical tone. "But a necessity for its stability. We cannot have it said that a Cephilusk battleship stood by while a member species bled out into the vacuum. It would invite the attention of zealots."
He turned away from the viewscreen. The tide of diplomacy was over. Now, it was time for the tide of truth.
"Our visitors," Lahnkush said, his skin subtly tinting toward a calculating yellow. "Are they conscious and conducive to a conversation?"
"It is as you say, First Shoaling," the crewman replied, a slight shudder of distaste visible in his motor tentacles. "We have them in the lower reception block."
"Good," Lahnkush said, his eyes narrowing. "Let them speak. I wish to hear the melody of their deceit."
The walk to the reception block was a journey through the heart of Cephilusk philosophy. Unlike the sterile, boxy corridors of the Tabitha, the Diaghaltha was a series of sweeping curves and organic membranes. The air here was heavy, thick with moisture and infused with the scent of brine. It was a place that symbolised pressure and depth.
When Lahnkush entered the holding area, the atmosphere changed. The guard suddenly tensed.
In the centre of the damp, oppressive chamber stood the prisoners. They were scavengers, a collection of multi-limbed, chitinous creatures that had migrated to the restricted zone, away from the prying eyes of the Concordat. They were "filth" in the most literal sense, their bodies covered in grease, dirt, and the dried ichor of their last meal, usually a fellow traveller or the weakest member of their delegation.
As Lahnkush approached, the leader of the group, a creature with many eyes and a spine contorted into a permanent crouch, made a grandiose, shuddering effort to bow. It was a desperate attempt to signal goodwill.
"You must be the First Shoaling aboard this ship?" the creature's voice grated, a rasping sound that set everyone's nerves on edge.
Lahnkush came to a halt, his tentacles coiling aggressively. "It is so."
The creature's eyes flickered with hope, perhaps mistaking Lahnkush's unreadable expression for interest. "Have you come to reward us for destroying the yuman transport ship?"
Lahnkush's skin rippled with a flash of bright red. "Reward?" He let the word hang in the moist air. A trap. A lure cast into dark water. "Ah. I have need for clarity on your actions."
His skin deepened and bruised. He leaned forward, his large, unblinking eyes pinning the scavenger in place. "...Why?"
The creature flinched, its chitinous plates clattering together. "W–Why? Does the Cephilusk not oppose the yumans? Everyone knows your people fought their entry into the Concordat. We thought... we thought we were helping."
"Your thoughts are of no concern to me," Lahnkush replied, his skin shifting back to the regular colour. "Am I to believe that your vessel destroyed a UIC-flagged transport ship to help the Cephilusk cause?"
"Of course!" the scavenger exclaimed with a pathetic surge of confidence. "What other reason could there be? The yumans are a blight. They take up resources. They weaken the Great Tide. We did what you couldn't do... Officially, of course!"
Lahnkush tilted his head, his nodules throbbing. "Enlighten me. Since when do the pirates and scavengers in the restricted zone think so highly of the Cephilusk cause? Usually, your kind is more interested in scrap metal and contraband than political gain."
"We– We have always thought highly of the Cephilusk cause," the creature stammered.
Lahkush's face-tendrils knotted. The lie was transparent as the water in a shallow reef.
The creature continued. "We are... admirers. From a distance."
"I see," Lahnkush said. He let a wave of colour splash across his skin, a sign that made his crew members visibly uneasy. "What do you feel would be a fitting reward for your actions?"
The scavenger's many eyes widened. Greed overrode its survival instincts. "We– Whatever you see fit, great Shoaling! We live only to serve the opulent Ceph–"
"–Very well then," Lahnkush interrupted. He turned to his guards. "Take them to the airlocks."
The transition was so abrupt that the scavengers remained frozen for a moment.
"Dispose of this filth," Lahnkush added, his voice dropping into a register that the translator struggled to render.
"The airlocks?" the leader shrieked, its limbs flailing as the guards stepped forward. "Wait! No! We did you a favour!"
Lahnkush paused, his expression predatory. "A favour? By attacking a ship belonging to a fellow UIC member species? By forcing me to divert resources to repairing a yuman cruiser and playing diplomat to these yumans?"
"Yes!" the creature screamed. "You never wanted them in the Concordat! You said it yourself in the High Council! We read the transcripts!"
"That is so," Lahnkush said, and for a moment, a genuine shade of sadness tinted his skin. "But the tides have changed. What is, is. This is the New Way. The Concordat is the peace, and the peace must be seen as unbreakable. You did not attack a human ship. You attacked the integrity of the peace holding the universe itself together. You swam against the current of the tide."
He waved a tentacle dismissively. "Away with them."
"It doesn't have to be like this!" the leader shrieked, clawing at the deck as the guards dragged him toward the exit. "We can change the tides again! Rid the universe of the yumans! We have friends in the Concordat working towards just that! In the High Council itself! You're a fool if you think–"
Lahnkush froze. "Wait," he commanded.
The guards stopped. The room fell silent. Lahnkush glided closer to the leader, his motor tentacles hovering inches from the creature's face.
"What did you say?"
"I– I apologize for calling you a fool," the creature gasped. "It's just that it would–"
"No," Lahnkush hissed. "Before that. About your friends in the Concordat."
"Yes," the scavenger whispered, sensing a final, desperate lifeline.
Lahnkush's skin rippled with a terrifyingly bright "happy" hue. "Who is this friend in the High Council?"
The creature hesitated, its eyes darting around the room. "I– Did I say the High Council? Surely you misheard. I was just... speaking of rumours. Drunken talk in the ports."
Lahnkush's skin flared violently. "I assure you, I did not mishear. My intellect is not brittle, and infering otherwise will end terribly for you. Who is this friend?"
"I– I don't know who it is!" the creature wailed. "We only get the orders through layers! I swear!"
"What do you know?" Lahnkush asked, his skin shifting again.
"That's all I know!"
Lahnkush let out a long, wet sigh. "In that case, you are of no further value. Guards. Airlocks."
"No! Wait! There's something else!" The creature was sobbing now, a wet, clicking sound. "Just please! Don't throw us in the airlocks! The vacuum– please!"
Lahnkush looked down at the creature with a clinical detachment. "That will depend on what you know."
The scavenger swallowed hard, its chitinous throat bobbing. "Fine. All I know is that we were supposed to get the access codes to the Sol Gate."
Lahnkush felt a chill streak across his nodules. "Only a UIC ship would have the codes," he whispered. "And they are each unique. Traceable."
"Exactly," the scavenger said, seeing Lahnkush's reaction. "That's why they need to liberate a code from a ship that can't be traced back to the High Council. A non-Cephilusk ship. We were hoping this Christopher ship would have one, but they were empty. Just cargo and yumans."
Lahnkush's mind raced. Each species' homeworld system's key was protected. A guarded secret, veiled in encryption.
"What do you intend to do with the code?" Lahnkush asked.
"Our council friend has offered a magnificent bounty," the creature said. "If anyone procures one, it is to be handed off to a Semashar broker for payment. That's all. I don't know the issuer of the bounty. I just know it's a handsome price."
Lahnkush stared at the creature for a long time. He could see the truth in the way its limbs trembled.
"You know nothing else?"
"That is all I know," the scavenger swore. "I swear it."
"Very well," Lahnkush said. His skin bloomed. "I will honour our deal."
The scavenger let out a gargantuan sigh of relief, its body sagging against the guards. "Thank you! You are most gracious and–"
"You won't be thrown out the airlocks," Lahnkush continued, his voice dropping. "I'll reward you justly. Guards... throw them in the bio-organic recyclers."
The creature's relief vanished, replaced by terror. The recyclers were not a quick death.
"Wait– No! Wait! Wait! No!"
Lahnkush didn't look back as the guards dragged the screaming filth away. He stood alone in the damp holding area.
A friend in the High Council. A bounty on Sol Gate codes. A Semashar broker.
The humans were arrogant and impulsive, yes. But Lahnkush realised with a sinking feeling in his nodules that they were not the greatest threat to the Concordat. The rot was not coming from outside the fold. It was coming from the deep inside.