Nadi had somehow managed to twist Cyrix’s rubber arm and obtained permission to interrogate their gru’ul prisoner. Of course, she’d listed to him all the good reasons she should be permitted to do so and to her surprise, he agreed. Conditionally.

  Commander Cyrix was in the middle of interrogating Fahl, who had been charged with treason. While normally a crime handled with the utmost diligence, there should’ve been no reason for the Commander to get involved. That Cyrix was meddling in the process spoke volumes as to how serious High Command took the situation.

  Nadi shuddered, glad that she’d set up somebody to take the fall for her. She was confident that nothing could be traced back to her in their systems and didn’t envy Fahl’s scrutiny from High Command in the slightest.

  Irric stepped next to her in front of the observation pane overlooking their prisoner. “So now you know,” he said softly. “And you want answers to the lie you’ve lived.” He stared at the alien monstrosity responsible for such misery with a complicated expression.

  “Yes,” Nadi forced out. “I want to know why they did what they did. For how long were we nothing more than an experiment?” She was terrified of the answers she would receive but she needed to know. Tasked with uncovering anything else they could about the facility and its research, she and Irric had been given a lot of leeway in the deals they could make with the gru’ul before them.

  “I remember when I found out,” Irric said absentmindedly, his thoughts elsewhere. “I was a wreck. I know you want answers but remember why we’re here. We need more info. Especially on what happened to the soldier they held captive for a month.”

  “Why do we care so much about her?” Nadi inquired curiously. “She went on to become a Silver Star, but surely she’s fine now.”

  “She’s not fine,” Irric explained sadly, “and she hasn’t been since the day she got captured. Don’t fool yourself. What happened to her here was horrendous. We have documented proof of what she went through. It’s disgusting, the way she was treated. High Command has a renewed interest in whether she was a direct experiment while held captive.”

  It was top secret information that Irric had been given permission to share. Most of it was harmless. The public already knew that Reya had survived being held captive by the gru’ul. High Command didn’t see the harm in allowing Nadi to learn a little more. Especially if she was to be present during an interrogation session with the very same gru’ul who declared itself the Highest.

  “What do you mean by direct experiment?” Nadi asked. “I thought Adrian was the one they did additional experimentation on.” Commander Cyrix’s debrief had been very thorough. He’d taken the time to explain what brought them to the Arvis sector to begin with as well as Adrian’s role in the military’s recent actions. Some details were clearly still kept tightly under wraps, which was why Nadi was surprised by Irric’s implications.

  Though isolated and far from home, news of Adrian’s existence had still spread amongst the soldiers, with Cyrix merely confirming the rumours that some skeptics refused to believe. If their Commander was convinced that the news from Verilia was true, then even they had no choice but to begrudgingly accept their new reality.

  Images of mutated a’vaare and humans floating in pods were shown next to support Cyrix’s words. The people — or parts of them only in some cases – had clearly died while suffering. The soldiers lamented that they hadn’t been able to save them when they’d needed them most. That such atrocities had occurred so close to home while they were none the wiser was a personal failure for many.

  The specifics of what had been done to Adrian, however, were not discussed. The soldiers naturally had questions, but Cyrix deflected them and instead focused on other key points. Reya’s role and why the Tribunal had awarded her the Silver Star suddenly made sense to everybody. The Commander lightly touched her time as a captive, leaving her heavily implied suffering up to interpretation. They came to learn that Reya’s Silver Star was due to her sacrifice to survive her ordeal long enough to report back highly valuable information. Arguably, Cyrix explained, some of the most critical intel responsible for their extended occupation of the deserted planet.

  Yet for all that was disclosed that terrible day, what exactly happened to Reya remained a mystery.

  “Adrian was human,” Irric said slowly. “Now, he’s no longer human.” Nadi nodded and motioned for him to continue. Commander Cyrix had already explained that part and it wasn’t new information to her. “Whatever they did to him that changed him so,” Irric continued, “was somehow done to Reya. She’s now no longer an a’vaare and is in the process of transforming into whatever the gru’ul turned Adrian into.”

  Nadi’s jaw dropped. “How is that even possible?” she asked, bewildered. “Commander Cyrix glossed over the details during his debrief, but what on Verilia could possibly cause that? It’s so absurd that in any other instance I wouldn’t believe it and think you a liar making a fool out of me. Even then, I find it hard to believe.”

  “I know,” Irric nodded. “My research during our time here has led to many unfortunate discoveries. Engineers and scientists are unraveling the mysteries of gru’ul technology while my job is to unravel the mystery of their motivations to create such specific technology. From what I can understand, this entire facility was created for the sole purpose of bringing both a’vaare and humanity to the next stage in their evolution. Whatever that nebulous stage may be.”

  “Reya’s capture was the perfect opportunity to replicate their success with Adrian,” Nadi realized. “And they somehow succeeded.”

  “Not quite,” Irric corrected her. “There are still elements missing that she needs. We happen to have them here at the facility and she’s on her way. If it works, the gru’ul will have been successful.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” Nadi asked.

  “Then she’ll be dead,” Irric replied. “That’s why we’re here today. We need answers if she has any hope in surviving the next step in her evolution.” He walked over to the terminal that would allow them to communicate with the gru’ul and set the translator on counter next to it. He wasn’t worried about not being close by. He knew the translator would work from that distance perfectly fine. “It’s time,” he said. After typing in a few commands, he enabled two-way communication and took his place back next to Nadi with a data slate in hand to remotely control the connection as needed.

  The gru’ul’s antennae twitched and it swiveled its head towards the pane Irric and Nadi stood behind. “A’vaare,” it hissed. “You have returned. Speak your mind. I tire of these games. Long have you kept me here for no purpose. I demand my freedom.”

  “You demand something you don’t deserve,” Irric said harshly. “Yet,” he continued, “it is within my power to offer it to you should you cooperate one last time.” Interacting with such a monster sickened him, yet he knew he had no choice if they wanted to have a chance at saving Reya. The gru’ul was still hiding secrets, he was certain. High Command demanded answers and answers they would get.

  Nadi shot Irric a sidelong glance, opting to remain silent while he opened the dialogue.

  “You give me no reason to believe your lies,” the gru’ul said. “You speak empty promises. I do not believe you hold the authority to release me. You are not a Highest.”

  Irric narrowed his eyes. “Such decisions have been delegated to me, pending my assessment of how this discussion goes.” His thoughts raced, wondering what the best angle was to get the answers they needed. Along with anything else he might be able to wrangle from it. “You are the Highest,” he stated simply. “What does this role entail?”

  “That is a question for the Highest,” the gru’ul shrieked. “I am not in a position to answer that.”

  “But you are the Highest,” Irric insisted.

  “Without my badge I am nothing,” the gru’ul replied.

  “If I have that badge, does that make me the Highest?” Irric asked.

  “You are not one of us. You cannot be a Highest.”

  Irric thought furiously. The nonanswer made no sense to him. He was unable to determine the significance of the badges to gru’ul society. Such a detail had never before been documented. “Then,” he said slowly, “if I return your badge to you, will you be able to answer our questions?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What will I get in return?” the gru’ul asked. “You barely gave me additional sustenance with our last deal.”

  “You will be the Highest once more,” Irric replied. “Is that not enough?”

  “You will merely take the badge back once you are done interrogating me,” the gru’ul said in a series of shrieks and clicks. “What is the point of such a transient power?”

  Irric refrained from clicking his tongue in disappointment, instead opting to try another avenue. “Your female experiment lives still,” he said. “Why did the effects take so long to manifest themselves and why couldn’t we detect them sooner?”

  “Only the Highest is authorized to divulge such information,” the gru’ul insisted. “Return to me my badge without taking it away and I will answer.”

  “Is that badge the only method to access the hidden rooms in the research facility?” Irric asked. He knew he couldn’t give up their only way to access the most vital data terminals to his mission. It was clear to him that there was still information to uncover even if their progress had stalled in recent months. Relinquishing access would be monumentally stupid.

  “Yes,” the gru’ul said simply.

  “Very well,” Irric lied. “We shall return to you your badge on the condition that you answer our questions.”

  “I will only answer your questions this time, a’vaare,” the gru’ul shrieked. “After that, you will afford to me the respect my station deserves.”

  “Those are agreeable terms,” Irric said. The gru’ul hissed in what he assumed was pleasure. Not that he could quite tell, as the translator wasn’t able to offer any insight as to what it was saying.

  Nadi did a double take that he would follow the whims of their prisoner so readily. She motioned for him to cut the communications channel so she could speak up without being heard. Irric understood and after entering a few commands on his data slate, signaled that she could speak freely. “Aren’t the badges important?” she hissed. “That’s the only one of its kind. Giving it up is a terrible idea!” Already aware of what the Highest’s badge allowed access to, she was dismayed that Irric would give it away.

  “As if I’d let that thing keep it.” Irric rolled his eyes. “I fully intend to storm its cell with a contingent of armed soldiers after we’re done to recuperate it.”

  “Won’t that sour relations with it?” Nadi asked. “It probably won’t answer questions after this.”

  “That’s fine,” Irric shrugged. “It hasn’t been very cooperative until now. Treat this as the one and only time you’ll be able to ask it anything.” He summoned Arinn, the gru’ul’s caretaker throughout its imprisonment, and instructed her to dump the badge through the slot where its food went. She took the badge and scurried back out of the room, waiting for Irric’s signal.

  Irric enabled communications once more and addressed the gru’ul. “Your badge will be deposited to you now,” he said while giving Arinn the order to do the handoff. Once it landed inside the cell, the gru’ul wasted no time scooping it up. It placed the badge upon its chest and stood taller.

  The gru’ul tapped its badge and shrieked an awful sound that the translator couldn’t translate. It unnerved both Irric and Ava, but they remained silent. “Commence your questions,” it said. “I will decide whether to answer them. They matter not.”

  Irric narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t quite the deal he thought he had with the alien before him, but it would have to do. “Why are the badges so important to you?” he asked.

  “They define what we are,” the gru’ul clicked. “We have no use for your nonsensical naming conventions. The badges are absolute. Far better than useless auditory sounds.”

  “What, exactly, does the Highest do?” Irric said. It was a question that had bothered him for months. At first, he’d assumed it referred to the level of access to the facility’s research a given gru’ul had, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  One of the gru’ul’s antenna twitched and it let out a low hiss. “The Highest is in charge of all research related to perfecting our glorious selves.”

  “Not just this facility?” Irric asked evenly, hiding his confusion. He didn’t like the implication that there were more research facilities and shuddered at the thought. He hoped dearly that no others had to suffer beyond the poor souls in the pods they’d found.

  “Correct. This is but one avenue of perfection we seek. Countless other facilities study new avenues of perfection. This facility was the most promising in terms of advancement. Incredible research was done here.”

  Both Irric and Nadi paled. “There were other experiments?” Irric forced out.

  “Naturally. A certain amount of trial and error is to be expected. We need not limit ourselves to a single idea.”

  “Where are they?” Irric demanded. If their military needed to dispatch additional force to liberate more a’vaare and humans, he needed concrete answers as to where to send them.

  “They are of no concern. You mentioned the female experiment still lived. Describe to me her condition. How has she changed over time?” Irric gave a brief summary that had the gru’ul clicking in contemplation. He refused to reveal all of his cards right away. “You are correct that she needs the organs you found at the facility to complete her transformation,” the gru’ul replied after some time. “The changes should not have taken so long, but such a detail is ultimately irrelevant.”

  “Why the need for those organs?” Irric asked. “From my understanding, they are one of the facilitators of the symbiosis you were attempting to achieve.”

  “Modifying the experiments so that the nanites gradually replaced their own organs was an abject failure. It made far more sense to externally craft what was missing and replace the defunct ones ourselves. It is expected that future progeny will inherit the new organs rather than the host’s original ones.”

  “Yet, you didn’t modify the brain nor the eyes?” Irric questioned.

  “Those, we were able to adjust over time,” the gru’ul shrieked. “Previous iterations suffered catastrophic organ failure if we attempted to change them. We came to the conclusion that the host must be properly primed and that we needed to replace all other organs at the same time to avoid deficiencies.”

  Nadi had thus far remained silent, absorbing the new information like a sponge. Every answer led to three more questions and eventually, she was unable to keep them contained. “Are we nothing more than toys to you?” she blurted out. “For how long have we been an experiment?”

  “There is another interrogator present?” the gru’ul asked. It hummed an awful sound. “Very well, I shall humor you,” it said. “You have been an experiment since your inception during the earliest stage of your evolution. We have experimented on your kind since before your recorded history, short though it may be.”

  “That must have been thousands of years!” Nadi exclaimed.

  “Far longer than that,” the gru’ul replied.

  “Why wait so long?” Nadi asked, perplexed. “Wouldn’t you want to implement your perfection sooner?” she asked.

  “We have already undergone several stages of properly guided evolution. We are close to achieving our final form.”

  “You mean your final form until you find something else to perfect,” Nadi spat. “Now that we know, who will you study?”

  “Time is of no consequence to us. You represent the first instance of an experiment becoming aware of its true purpose. We will start over, this time implementing the results we’ve learned from our research here.”

  “Why haven’t we been swarmed by other gru’ul after so long?” Irric interjected. “Your facility has been under our control for quite some time.”

  “There is no need for frequent updates when studying evolution,” the gru’ul replied. “It is an inherently slow process.”

  “Why couldn’t we detect the presence of the nanites in the female’s body after we brought her back for assessment?” Irric said.

  “Your primitive devices are not sufficiently advanced enough to be of any real use to you,” the gru’ul said. “The material used to make the nanites would be undetectable to you a’vaare.”

  Irric reflected on the fact that Kell was right with one of his theories. “What are they made of?” he said. He waited expectantly but received no response from the prisoner. “Do you have anything else you can tell us about the facility?”

  “There is no more point to this discussion,” the gru’ul replied. “If you haven’t already learned it, you will not be able to even if I tell you what it is you’re missing.”

  “You won’t tell us anything more?” Irric said. The gru’ul replied an affirmative. “Very well,” he said harshly. “I’d say we thank you for your time, but a monster such as yourself deserves no respect. Regardless of your station within your society. We’ll be taking our badge back now.” He sent the order to storm the cell to a contingent of soldiers authorized to know about the gru’ul prisoner. “Do not resist or we will kill you.”

  “You lied to me,” the gru’ul hissed in anger as the door to its cell opened. Eight fully armed soldiers entered. One of them advanced and merely plucked the badge off the gru’ul before retreating back to the safety of their team. The promptly exited to room and the door slid shut and locked. “You will regret this transgression,” the gru’ul shrieked.

  “We don’t care,” Irric replied curtly before shutting the communications channel and leaving with Nadi in tow. He had a report to give the Commander. They hadn’t learned as much as he’d hoped and Irric knew that there would be no more fruitful sessions after today, regardless of whether he upkept his initial promise to the gru’ul or not.

  The gru’ul let loose a low, rumbling hiss now that it knew it was alone once more. It had been willing to indulge its test subjects with answers it knew wouldn’t matter once they were obliterated. Instilling chaos was nothing more than a form of entertainment while it waited. After all, it had achieved its goal the moment they returned the Highest’s badge to it.

  The fools.

  In a distant star sector, far removed from a’vaare controlled space, sat three gru’ul in a room carved into the heart of an enormous mountain. Floating images with no apparent source flickered in and out of existence as they waved their many arms in the empty space before them. Their eyes took in the abundance of information that streamed past them, the symbols of their language in constant flux.

  A horrific sounding shriek stole their attention, each of them immediately stiffening. One of the screens blinked an angry red as the alert told them everything they needed to know about the situation. All gru’ul knew its meaning and never thought they’d hear it.

  The subjects had learned of the Mandate.

  The three gru’ul scrambled to contact the Hive Queen directly so she could properly respond to the devolving situation. It was time to start over with a new species of subjects to study. Naturally, only after the old ones were wiped from existence before they became a problem.