I can’t believe this is happening. Why are they trying to hurt us? We are gentle, poetic intellectuals who don’t believe in war and subsequently don’t carry weapons. Our very forms project our gentle demeanor. Our bodies are thin, pale, almost wispy to the eye. Our clothing is made of a guaze-like material and we take great care in painting them with muted pale colors.
Our ship had been knocked off course into a wormhole by debris, many years ago. For generations we drifted trying to find intelligent life forms. We often found nourishment on planets but no intelligent beings. We had accepted our ship as home while we searched for our galaxy. Most of us had grown up on this peaceful ship and had no knowledge of other races.
Then we saw their ship. We were elated to find another intelligent life form. We invited them onto our spacecraft in friendship to exchange ideas, not knowing their true nature. We hoped to gain some knowledge of other cultures and maybe a clue as to how to get home.
The next thing we know, they are slaughtering our families and friends with their sabers. The wide curved blades cutting through our soft flesh and spilling our pale pink blood on the white floors of the craft. Filling our eyes with sights we had never imagined.
The metallic taste of fear is in my mouth as I run through the hallways screaming, “Stop! We have no weapons! We are unarmed!” I run and run not knowing what else to do, not knowing how to defend myself. My shouts turn to whispers as I hide myself away in a closet. I feel my clothes rip as they are caught in the doorway. All the violence, all the blood is more than my mind can take. I do not understand these concepts. How can one being extinguish another without giving it a thought? I stay in the closet whispering, “We are unarmed. Please, leave us alone. We are unarmed.”
“Over here!” I hear someone shout. My heart beats faster and I know my time is over. The door opens and the light floods in. There is no escape. They pull me to my feet and drag me through the bloody hallways. The slick feeling of the floors and the smell of death around me make me nauseous. Finally, we enter what used to be our entertainment room. The room where all of this started. There sprawled across the couch looking very relaxed and smug is their leader. I also see my friend, Marac, across the room. His hands are bound behind his back and he is on his knees. “Tere, are you ...” he starts to speak but his captor gives him a swift kick in the ribs, effectively silencing him.
“Are these the only ones left?” the leader asks.
“Yes, sir,” his first officer replies, “Everyone else has been successfully terminated.”
A look of disbelief crosses Marac’s face as it does mine. I feel great sadness pushing me to the floor as I collapse. Everyone is gone. What will become of us? I wonder as the leader stares at us with ruthless cold dark eyes. Playing with the saber in his hand, turning it over and over as if to taunt us, he answers my thoughts. “Put them on a launch vessel. Let them go. They’ll never survive” he sneers.
“Let them go, sir?” the puzzled officer asks.
“Yes, this race cannot survive. They do not have the will to even protect themselves.”
I look at Marac and wonder if he is right. Can we change the very fiber of our nature to save ourselves?
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