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Credit to /u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe

Thank you to spacepaladin15 and krakotl (Zanatim) in the discord for helping with editing!

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Memory transcription subject: Tellis, Junior Farsul Archivist

Date [standardized human time]: July 2, 1940

Maybe wishing the Administration took their time was a bad idea.

It had been several days since my interview with the human. I had spent the day after effectively hiding in my room with Sylon. My dreams were poisoned by nightmares of the predator tearing me apart, and it seemed that Sylon went through much the same. Girna had noticed my absence that day and came by my room with lunch, but I made her leave it at the door since all I really wanted to do was sit in the dark.

In the days that followed, I remained relatively isolated, but I did gain the courage to swing by the cafeteria myself. I busied myself with trying to get my notes into a state I thought I could hand in to Nyel. I had initially just done a find-and-replace for the word "it", thinking that would be enough, but ultimately I opted to rewrite my notes from scratch as they were borderline incomprehensible scribbles made by my fear-addled mind. Going through them brought back that same feeling of overwhelming fear I felt during the interrogation, but as I settled into a rhythm, they began to dissipate and my mind started treating it like any other task.

Looking at a lot of these notes, if you didn't know the context, it'd seem like I'm documenting any other species, Nyel might be right about there being something worth salvaging in these predators.

Sylon had also opted to sequester himself in our shared bedroom, though he did not have notes to fix, or anything to busy himself with. It surprised me that he hadn't gone out to work with the Tilfish or something, given how Nyel seemed to imply everyone whose predator didn't make the cut would get reassigned. I figured that he likely got a new assignment, but was understandably still recovering from his ordeal with his assigned human. Whatever artifacts he was supposed to catalog would still be there once he felt ready to face the world.

Sylon really got shaken by his experience. If it weren't for me bringing back extra food from the cafeteria, he'd probably starve given his complete refusal to leave the room for any reason other than to use the bathroom in our corridor. I really should find a way to coax him out of here, or at the very least convince him to take a shower.

I hopped down from my bunk and saw Sylon seemingly still sleeping, curled into a ball with his back to me. I gave him a small nudge with my paw, causing him to immediately twist to face me, implying he hadn't actually been sleeping.

From the blue streaks in his eyes, it doesn't look like he's been sleeping much at all.

"Hey, I know that the human really shook you, and I don't really want to go out and face the world either, but we're starting to get to the point where people start worrying we're dead; and from the smell, they'd probably think we're rotting."

Sylon closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, before reaching for his holopad. "Yeah, you're probably right, it's been... wow, yeah it's been a while. I've just... I- I don't feel safe anymore. The thought of those things down here with us. The whole facility feels like an underwater coffin now."

"The humans are locked in their own wing, with each one locked in their own room behind a blast door. They're not getting out. If you let them stop you from living your life just by being down here, they might as well have already killed and devoured you. Every moment you stay in here, they're winning."

"Fine, you're right. I guess I can maybe go shower. I'm probably in trouble for not showing up to whatever I've been reassigned to, and the longer I wait to report somewhere, the worse it'll be."

Just as Sylon got his paws on the floor, I heard two pings in quick succession, and the holopad in my grip vibrated. Without even looking at the notification, I knew what it said.

And things were going so well.

Watching Sylon turn and grab his holopad felt like watching a car crash. I knew what was going to happen, and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I just had to watch as he squinted at the notification, read it, and digested its meaning. I knew that it said that we were both going to have to interrogate the predators again. It's the only reason we'd both receive a message at the same time. The growing visage of panic on Sylon's features confirmed my suspicions. His tail was rigid, his eyes stared out into nothing as though he was blind, and his breathing began to gradually accelerate into what was sure to become hyperventilation. All of the motivation that he had just mustered evaporated.

Sensing that the situation would only get worse the longer I let it go on I glanced at the notification summary on my pad and tried to think of something to say as quickly as I could.

I grabbed his shoulders "Okay, Sylon look at me, I know this is scary and that neither of us want to go back into those rooms, but the archives need us, our people need us, the galaxy needs us. When we agreed to come down here, we knew that the only path was forward, and this is now something that lays in front of us. So we're going to do exactly what we were about to; you are going to get up, we are going to the showers, and after that, we will report to Nyel's office. If we do anything less, there's no point in even being buried under an ocean."

Sylon's eyes locked with mine for several long seconds, before screwing them shut and mumbling something to himself and shooting up to his feet and begin making brisk paces to the door.

Holy shit, that actually worked?

I followed Sylon out the door and into the communal shower. Sylon was making rapid movements, practically punching the controls to get the water flowing, scrubbing himself so aggressively he managed to tear out a small amount of fur as he untangled knotted fur.

I suppose he's trying to move as fast as possible to avoid thinking about things too hard, not a bad strategy in this situation.

Eventually, he slowed down to a more reasonable pace. I could see his body tremble, despite the warm water. After a few minutes, I finished cleaning myself in my own shower, neighboring his, but in the time it had taken me to clean my body, he had seemingly stopped moving completely, staring out into nothing. I gave him a slight nudge with my paw, and he reacted with a startled yelp, before looking at me and sighing.

Before long, we were both out of our showers, using blowers to try to dry the fur all over our bodies, a frustratingly slow process.

The humans seem to be mostly furless, with their hair growing in random patches, I wonder if they find it easier to dry themselves, assuming they bathe at all.

After having dried ourselves to a reasonable extent, we grabbed our satchels from our rooms, stuffing our holopads into them, before beginning our brisk walk to Nyel's office. Unlike our desperate dash a few days prior, we figured we could afford to keep Nyel waiting this time and avoid exhausting ourselves before once again being locked in a room with a predator. A few times during our walk, I glanced over to Sylon, who was seemingly on autopilot, putting one paw in front of the other without really being aware of his surroundings.

On our way there, I was surprised to find Girna walking down the corridor towards us. "Oh! Hey Tellis!"

"Hi Girna... what are you doing all the way out here?"

"I was just delivering Nyel a report in person. You know new supervisors, they always ask for all sorts of people to give them reports on any number of things."

"I guess. I just assumed he'd be too focused on all this predator business to bother asking for reports about something as minor as cataloging artifacts from the Tilfish uplift. No offense."

"None taken. Personally I find it best not to question why people in such important positions do the things they do... speaking of important things, Nyel did tell me that he was just notifying you and a few others of renewed interrogations of the humans!"

"Why do you sound so excited?"

"Because it is exciting! I've said it before, but I think you should feel honored to be involved in something so important. I know that this might not have been your first pick of species, but this is a species in desperate need of help."

"I just wish I had a choice in this."

"If the choice was between this, and never having set foot in these archives, what would you have picked? The way you described it to me, you seemed to hate how boring and unimportant your old life was."

"Why is that the choice I have to make?"

"Life is rarely fair."

"Life would be fairer if there weren't predators in it."

"If we all do our jobs, one day, there won't be any predators left."

"Too bad we probably won't be alive to see it" Sylon chipped in. "Come on Tellis, we're late enough as it is."

"I'm surprised you're so eager all of a sudden."

Sylon closed his eyes and sighed "I just want this to be over, the sooner we begin, the sooner I can crawl back into bed."I bid Girna farewell with a quick tail flick, and continued in silence with Sylon.

Once we had arrived at the office, I gave the door a light knock. I heard Nyel give us permission to enter. Upon opening the door, Nyel's gaze portrayed a mild surprise. "Hmm, seems like you two are early this time. You're the first ones to arrive. Take a seat."

We took a seat in two neighboring chairs, out of the six that Nyel had placed in front of his desk.

I thought he had said only five predators made the cut during my talk with him?

After a surprisingly long wait, one by one, other junior archivists entered the office and took their seats. Each of them bore a different expression of anxiety. A few looked even worse than Sylon did before our shower, and smelled the part too. Once all but one of the seats were filled, Nyel began to speak. "I've just been informed that the final archivist will not be able to join us. For the rest of you, I'm sure you've all realized that you've been selected for the honor of continuing with the interrogations of the most cooperative human guests of this facility. The Administration believes that these humans hold the key to a better understanding of their species, an understanding that will allow us to identify the best corrective measures needed for this species. The dramatic nature of the first set of interrogations have caught the attention of the Administration, and the stakes of all of this have been raised significantly and thus interrogation protocol has been amended. You will all enter your assigned rooms for two hours, after which you will be given six hours to deliver your reports to my office. These reports will be evaluated and you will receive feedback that will inform your next interrogation on the following day. This will continue until we exhaust all of the useful information that can be gathered from this batch. Any questions?"

Out of one eye, I could see Sylon cautiously raising a paw. "Why did the last person get out of doing this?" Nyel stilled for a moment, before answering in a quiet voice. "There was an... airlock malfunction. Their next of kin will be notified. I don't suppose there are further questions?"

Our collective silence answered in the affirmative. Nyel pressed a few buttons on the pad at his desk, and I heard the chimes of several devices belonging to my comrades. "You've got your instructions. I expect detailed reports by this evening."

I was the first to rise from my seat. I knew that my human was likely too delusional to be a true threat to me. From the expressions of my coworkers, I surmised I was uniquely fortunate in this respect. My pad told me to head to the same room as I had been in for my first interrogation, and little else. My instructions were just a simple sentence telling me to continue the "good work" I had done last time.

It's still incredible that anyone would describe my anxiety riddled stuttering performance the other day as "good". If I'm apparently supposed to have somehow done the best job out of all of us, this uplift is doomed.

I did not linger nearly as long outside of the door as I had before. The boredom of the last few days had almost been worse than the prospect of being locked in a room with a predator again. I figured that if I had to do this, I'd do the best I could.

Upon entering the room, the first thing that struck me was the smell. A pungent, salty stench carried in the air. The next thing I noticed was the predator staring at me. His face had changed dramatically in the few days since I had last seen him. The lack of fur his species possessed had been a notable quality, but it appeared that the jaw of this human had sprouted dramatic hair growth.

Is furlessness a temporary condition for humans? Perhaps a side effect of flesh consumption?

The predator's eyes were on me immediately upon my entry. "Oh! Dog girl! I didn't think I'd see you again. Looks like this dream is getting interesting again." I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before replying. "H-hello. You call yourself... 'Jacques', correct?"

"Yes, and you said you had a strange name before, something beginning with 'T'?"

"Tellis."

"Yes! That was it. Very bizarre. In any case, why have you come back?"

"Well, I'm supposed to, um, interrogate you."

"Interrogate me? That makes it sound like I've committed some serious crime." Jacques laughed.

Yes, a crime against life.

Feeling that the predator was docile and restrained enough, like before, I decided to take a seat in the chair across from them. Watching his eyes track me as I moved forward was deeply unsettling, two stark white orbs with brown irises moving in tandem, soaking in every detail of my body. Somehow, despite now being closer to the predator, sitting helped steady my nerves and focus on getting the information I was sent to collect. The fact that Jacques continued to sit nearly motionless continued to feed the idea that these humans can act like civilized beings.

"Can you tell me about the fur growth on your face?"

Jacques looked puzzled for a moment, before replying "Oh! You mean the beard? Well, these cuffs magically unlocked themselves after you left, and I messed around with the weird bathroom setup against that wall over there. The toilet was easy enough, it just starts flushing after you use it. Same story with the sink. It just reacts when you get close. Dream logic I guess. No matter where I looked, I couldn't find anything that looked like a razor, or even a shower, so I'm starting to look a little homeless."

The whole time he was speaking, I was furiously trying to note down all of the little details Jacques was spewing out.

So it seems that the hair growth isn't surprising to him? He had a word for it. "Beard''. I suppose that rules out it being a side-effect of a more moral diet.

"What do you mean by the shower comment?"

"Well, it'd be a little hard to wash myself using just the sink."

I looked at the predator for several seconds, despite the discomfort of his gaze locked with mine. I then got out of my seat, keeping the predator in my sight, as I walked the shower control panel, and gave it a light press. The predator was visibly startled as water began to trickle from the holes in the ceiling and drain down the angled section of floor into the little gutter.

"What the fuck?" the predator said in what I knew to be an incredulous tone even without even needing the translator to impart that understanding to me.

Clueless predator. Actually, maybe a better term would be clueless primitive. These predators are so far behind us they don't even know how to recognize a control panel. It's almost endearing in a strange way. Maybe Nyel is right, these predators are just like any other primitive race we uplift. Without our help, they'd never develop an actual civilization, much less ever make it to the stars on their own. Though, even with our guidance, I don't know if we can truly ever trust a predator race with starships.

In any case, watching the predator look like a clueless child helped further disarm him in my eyes. It made me feel like I was responsible for taking care of him, and teaching him how to act like a true sapient. For now, I just made a note on my pad: Make shower controls more primitive-friendly.

After demonstrating to Jacques what the various icons on the shower control panel meant, something made surprisingly easy by the predator's disconcertingly sharp vision at a distance. I returned to my seat, and continued with questions focused on science and technology. The predator happily described the various technological feats that his surprisingly industrialized society had produced. Planes, radar, submarines; though he clearly lacked an engineering background, as he could not explain how any of it worked, not that it would have actually meant much to me anyway. As he continued to list innovations, I felt a certain pattern emerge that left a certain level of dread, one that was amplified when he listed portable machine guns as an important innovation.

Nearly everything he's listed so far has sounded like technology that would be particularly useful in war.

"Jacques, I'm sorry for interrupting, you're being very helpful, but I have a certain sense that a lot of what you're bringing up might have military applications?"

"Oh, well, of course. You just asked me to list technology, so I just went with all the things that people have been talking about in the last few months, and some of the equipment I've handled in the last few days."

"The last few days? You make it sound like you humans are at war."

"We are at war. Right now, I'm sound asleep in some bombed-out house somewhere near Belgium. The Germans stopped their advance for some reason a day or so ago, so right now my whole squad have been pretty on edge, and this is the first actual shut-eye I've gotten in days."

I sat there in stunned silence as Jacques confirmed that we had apparently plucked him right out of a battlefield. Some of the Yulpa that had been sent to collect subjects had noted a significant volume of gunfire in some of the places they were sent to, but it was chalked up to them not being subtle enough, and predators shooting at anything they thought was an animal.

The thought of Jacques being a soldier left me with a number of feelings, though surprisingly I still felt like the Federation had a duty to these predators.

If we don't intervene, humans may never stop killing each other in war, and they might drive themselves extinct. I shudder to imagine what would happen if they were to discover how to split the atom, even an idiot would realize they'd wipe themselves out in a heartbeat. Maybe we need to make this uplift a very high priority to get done quickly, so that we may perhaps save them from themselves.

My worries of the imminent extinction of Jacques' people were interrupted by a chime from my holopad, telling me that the two hours I had been given with the predator had somehow elapsed. It almost felt like the holopad's internal clock had ticked way too fast, but I was forced to accept that I had somehow lost track of time.

Being with this predator isn't that bad as long as I think of them like any other race we've uplifted. They're primitives, and given that it seems like the Cure is working on them so far, soon they won't really be predators anymore. We'll fix them.

I bid Jacques farewell, and left the human to figure out the shower once his magnetic binds shut down after my departure. Walking down the hall, it struck me that this was now just a regular part of my routine. Sitting in a locked room and speaking to a flesh-eating predator warrior went from utterly unthinkable, to being just another item on my schedule.

The day had only really just begun. I had many hours to finalize a report to Nyel, and find out how Sylon had fared in his interview. I pulled my holopad out of its carrying bag, and sent him a message asking if he wanted to meet up at the cafeteria to discuss our experiences over lunch.

It's kind of funny, what I just did would probably seem like magic to the predator. It's honestly kind of hard to think of him as a serious threat with how primitive his species actually is. Without our help, they'll never advance as a society. With our guidance, they'll be able to reach the stars, and by then, only their eyes will hint at their predatory nature.

Maybe this whole ordeal will leave me feeling like a hero to a whole species?

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