LF Friends, Will Travel [HFY]

Date: 2424 AD

The room was eternally silent, not even the hum or a whisper arose from the rows upon rows of machines lined up, a resting place for those not quite yet dead, a moment of peace for those trapped inside, eternal respite from the cacophony of chaos and noise that the world was now made up of.

There were tens, maybe even hundreds of thousands of humans here, all asleep. Yet that was a poetic way of putting it, as their current state was neither sleep nor death. Tiny blinking lights on each stasis chamber represented a single saved soul, an oasis in the desert of death and destruction that had hit humanity. People had stopped counting the dead. The official toll broadcast on the radios still being run by the AI and uplifts stood at nearly two billion, but everyone knew it was far higher. Attempts to stop the God Plague had failed, all people could do now was either find a rare stasis chamber to try and ride this out in, or pray to any divine beings who may listen as the end approached.

Dr Johnathan Fletcher was not a man to leave fate to gods, which is why he'd made the deal with the devil, why the love of his life filled one of these pods, stacked up against thousands of others, like boxes in a warehouse. He'd lied to her. The last thing he'd said before she was put to an eternal sleep was a lie made of love. Johnathan promised her he'd be safe, that he would be joining her after a little bit of work.

Of course, there was no space for him. Everyone only got one slot, that was the rule, and he wasn't taking it for himself.

Dr Fletcher left the mausoleum of the half alive, returning to the reality of the half dead, passing through several undergrown corridors, arriving into a giant carved out cavern of metal and rock. Within, countless rows of fabricators all worked on churning out stasis pods at an industrial rate. People were calling this place end's hope, a last chance for anyone able to earn their way to safety. Once upon a time a slightly deranged Feline uplift by the name of Alexandria had deemed themselves the savior of a prophesied apocalypse of fire and brimstone, and had spent the next 15 years creating a bunker system of fabricators and defenses to lead herself and her ten thousand most loyal followers through the end of times: the end goal being to leave this realm of existence entirely and ascending into a new form of being.

This cult very abruptly ended when their main church, all the way out here in the forests of Vereka, had collapsed on itself. This destruction of a shoddily built facility killed Alexandria and many other members, which was a major blocker to her prophecy: unless she'd managed to ascend via fallen shingles. The survivors scattered, leaving the facility and its many fabricators behind, forgotten by everyone for the next ten years; apart from the occasional low budget documentary revisiting the place.

That was, until an actual end of times happened, when the God Plague descended from the skies, and a friend of a friend of an original cult member vaguely remembered stories of a bunker filled with supplies, cut off from the grid. They went to see if anything left behind was still working as the world behind them burned and collapsed, finding the fabricators and coming up with a plan to build as many stasis chambers as possible.

In a way Alexandria's prophecy would come true, as the infrastructure she built would end up leading this relatively small group of people to safety, offering a chance at life for anyone who could afford a place.

Jonathan looked over the mass of fabricators printing the parts for stasis chambers as fast as physically possible, the machines working overtime to save as many people as they could. Of course, in this new reality, you didn't pay worthless money to get your spots, but instead spent your skills and knowledge in order to secure safety for you and your loved ones.

The people who had originally gotten this facility back up and running had quickly learned two truths: That even with all of these resources, there wouldn't be enough for everyone who needed a space, and that keeping this hastily created project running would take people with knowledge. As each group of people fell to the God Plague, the next in line would need to keep everything going. They'd need people to keep the power running, to keep the fabricators running, to just keep people alive…

To keep the place defended from others.

All of a sudden, money and status had no worth compared with the power of knowing how to do things. And Dr Fletcher knew how to do a lot of things, with several degrees in Engineering and Physics, keeping the fabricators running at their highest efficiency was something he knew how to do. It would be his last task. He'd given his knowledge to the group running this place, and in exchange his wife now was safe.

There were others working with Johnathan, people just like him, making sure the fabricators were continually filled, putting the pieces together or just general maintenance to make sure everyone had food, water and shelter in their final moments.

It was strange seeing the different stages of the God Plague so close together, some like Dr Fletcher not yet showing any symptoms, others walking around half dead with visible tumours. Each 'generation' of people had less than a week to learn how to keep this place running and safe. Johnathan was just part of the next group keeping this random attempt at hope running.

And possibly the last group.

The sound of a distant explosion shook the facility, steel beams and various pieces of machinery vibrating and wobbling as something big exploded closer to the surface of the facility. That had been happening more often recently. As more of the population got sick and desperation rose, the number of people who were willing to ask for help had dwindled, compared to those who were attempting to take a spot in one of the many stasis chambers that existed here by force.

The doctor had been one of the last few to enter the facility, and no new faces had been seen in the last three days. In the mere week Dr Fletcher had been here, the surface had gone from a congregation of people trying to get into the aging facility, to a war zone as other groups attempted to forcibly take control of what was here.

The facility was holding out for now, but every weapon and defense built using the fabricators was time not spent pumping out as many stasis chambers as possible, which was a strange compounding problem: To defend what was running required removing resources from saving as many people as possible.

Jonathan gave a sigh as he turned off one of the fabricators and attempted to release the half finished part which had gotten jammed inside the machine. It wasn't uncommon in the corner of the workshop with the hundreds of fabricators running at full belt, was a pile of half finished broken machinery. The ability to create anything from anything was a relatively new technology, doubly so for these ancient models, early adoptions of the scientific breakthrough created fifteen years ago.

There had been talk of trying to salvage these parts into workable chambers, but with the lack of manpower they faced between protecting the facility from other groups and keeping the facility powered, nobody had had the time to even consider trying such a project with the short time they had left.

Dr Fletcher finally got the part free, stumbling forwards and landing awkwardly on the ground, coughing violently as they winded themselves, a few eyes from others staring in his direction as he launched into a coughing fit, taking a few moments to gather himself, before picking himself up embarrassed. He straightened himself out, before falling to his knees once again, this time coughing up blood as the pain wracked his chest.

—---------------

Date: 77 PST (Post Stasis Time)

Johnathan hadn't known what to expect from the shrinking tech. The idea had long been theorized and proposed in a variety of different ways, meaning the actual method Annabel would be using was a mystery until he had stepped into the strange device. A spike of anxiety, of wondering if this was all a good idea, had crossed Dr Fletcher's mind as the room sized machine had vibrated and banged as it warmed up, whether being an early adopter of such tech was a smart move.

He'd imagined a lot of different things to happen as the shrinking machine finally started its process. He hadn't, however, expected it to hurt so much.

Perhaps he should have taken into account the sheer number of warning documents Annabel had gotten him to sign, or the way the small nervous woman kept asking 'are you certain you want to try this?', no matter how many times Rux brushed off her concerns. The way the Terran had squeezed her eyes shut before flicking on the machine.

Now Johnathan lay flat on his belly, having just gone through 60 seconds of agony that felt like being squeezed through a toothpaste tube, breathing heavily, throat hoarse from the sheer amount of screaming he'd just been doing.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, are you ok?" Annabel seemed to be freaking out, head in her hands as she paced back and forth, hardly daring to look in Johnathan's direction. She was panicking hard, a look of sheer terror on her face while the worst case scenario's played out in her head. "He's dead, isn't he? Oh god I killed someone, I knew it wasn't ready!"

Rux was sitting on a random counter, completely unfazed by the scene of screaming followed by the Terran's unmoving posture, casually snacking on a small back of brazil nuts and glancing down at the figure sprawled face first on the ground. "Nah, he's fine. Seems to still be breathing. You're all good, aren't you Johnathan?"

All good was an overstatement, as Dr Fletcher gave a groan from his position. At this point Lena would normally say something about his stupidity, but the Scythen wasn't here: Both refusing to be part of something as stupid as testing experimental technology, and using the time to check up on Spencer: The uplift having not left his house in the last few days leaving those who knew him slightly worried.

Instead, Johnathan was left alone to wallow in the mistakes of his bad decisions. The pain had disappeared, but the Terran didn't feel like getting up yet.

"It's not just that! Dr Fletcher, can you hear me? Can you understand me?" Annabel was still terrified, finally gathering the courage to look at Johnathan lying on the chamber floor. "I told you this was a bad idea! We've never tested this on a living… thing before!"

"You said you could do it, it'll all work out" Rux still sounded nonchalant as he spoke, only now stopping his incessant snacking and actually checking to see if his friend was ok. "Jonathan, buddy, you doing ok down there?"

"I said it was theoretically possible!" Annabel screamed back. "Theoretically!"

Dr Fletcher decided this was enough time spent feeling sorry on the floor and finally moved, getting up to his feet with a little difficulty. The pain of the process was finished, he could see, hear and think properly. If anything now that the device was turned off, the Terran felt perfectly normal. Well… as normal as anyone could be now that they were shrunk down to just over 1ft tall.

"I'm fine Dr Annabel, I'm just a bit…" Jonathan paused for a moment as the sound of his own voice reached his years. "Why the fuck do I sound like a munchkin?"

Dr Fletcher did indeed sound… weird, his voice high pitched and squeaky as it left his shrunken vocal cords. Rux gave a snort of laughter as a very annoyed and very tiny Johnathan stood beneath him.

"Quick, sing a song about naughty children and chocolate."

The small raised middle finger told the Quoxxett exactly what Johnathan thought about that. While the two bickered, Annabel leaned over and investigated the first living organism test of her project.

"The smaller size of your throat is probably impacting your vocal range," She said, having calmed down now that it was clear she hadn't killed the man. "Are you sure everything is ok Dr Fletcher? Weight distribution working correctly?"

Johnathan took a few steps forwards, and even gave a little jump, everything feeling… normal, albeit weird to see the world from this close to the ground. He wasn't exactly sure how the entire technology worked, since it was way beyond his passing knowledge of that specialization of science, but it had been explained his weight had reduced in relation to his size, in order to stop him from 'blowing out his ankles and every joint in his legs'.

"Yes yes, it's all very interesting," Rux interrupted, dropping down from the counter and walking over to the corner of the lab. The little Quoxxett pushed a box out of the way and flipped open a loose vent, pointing Johnathan towards it. "You only got an hour of this before you revert-"

"I said up to an hour" Annabel responded quietly, interrupting Rux, who continued regardless.

"You have an hour, and having someone start turning full size within a maintenance vent is gonna end up with some questions being asked, so you better get to it."

Time was going to be an issue, since even from their relatively close position to Xavius' lab, Johnathan's new found smallness would hinder a speedy resolution. Picking up a tiny Quoxxett made torch Rux had specifically bought with him, he slowly wandered over to the open vent and peered inside at the cable filled darkness below.

"You just travel through… there?"

Rux just gives a shrug.

"Yeah it's perfectly safe, opens up a bit once you get out of the lab specific areas. Just travel west 500 meters, you'll hit one of my caches and I got a vehicle there. Then it's just a straight run north to Xavius's place. You'll need to find a way in through the vents, but the bolts on them are kinda shit, just kick 'em in."

Johnathan gave a small sigh, pausing to have another peek through the darkness, before he felt the Quoxxett shove him in the back, causing the Terran to stumble forwards and fall into the vent.

"Again, you're on a time limit, get a move on, find your answers, and stop being annoying all the time."

Rux shut the vent behind the now small Dr Fletcher, who looked up alarmed and confused at the entrance now being sealed.

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"God no!" Rux laughed. "Firstly, the vehicle is a one-seater and I'm not walking. Secondly, I'm not the one who wants to accuse the giant carnivore with effective legal immunity of doing war crimes. That's all on you buddy."

"Really, you tell me that now…" Johnathan states with an annoyed sigh, watching as the box that had been covering the vent was put back into place. The last thing he heard before starting his journey was Annabel complaining about Rux having an entrance right inside her lab.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The torch lit the otherwise dark access tunnels, the wires, pipes and other required transfer mediums creating a sturdy pathway to walk along. 500 meters normally wouldn't be that much to walk, however having been shrunk down to 1/6th of his normal size, meant by the time Johnathan reached Rux's cache he could feel the exercise deep in his heart, especially since the scientist hadn't done any vigorous activity over the last 50 odd years.

Dr Fletcher hadn't been told exactly what Rux had stored here, since the Quoxxett had refused to divulge any details about their operations, only stating "You'll know you're there when you see it.", so when the beam of light of his torch finally reached the specified location, Johnathan could only think one thing.

My god that is a lot of drugs.

The packages of presumed contraband were piled up as far as the eye could see, stacked against and on top of the wires and pipes that surrounded the walls. Johnathan had heard that certain academics liked to party, but this was a completely new level. And from what he gathered, Rux had a lot of different stashes hidden about these tunnels.

He put the sheer quantity of what he was seeing to the back of his mind, and instead focused on the issue at hand: Finding the vehicle they needed. Johnathan took a few moments to search through the neat stacks of packages, before giving a sigh.

Really Rux?

Standing in front of Johnathan, was an RC truck, perfectly sized for someone as small as Rux, made of plastic and metal. Once upon a time this was a child's toy, although the extra equipment and power welded onto the original frame was obvious, probably modified by Rux himself. The entire thing was bright pink, covered in glitter, and covered in Barbie stickers.

The entire thing didn't get any better when he pushed the start button to turn it on, the headlamps lighting up, a custom installed music player filling the otherwise silent halls with the sounds of song, the words being even more ludicrous.

"I'm a Barbie Girl, In a Barbie woooorld"

Really?' Johnathan couldn't help but think to himself again. 'This was what Rux was using to Pablo Escobar all over the research facility? There is something wrong with that Quoxxett…'

Still, a vehicle was a vehicle, and as Dr Fletcher pressed the modified pedals on the 'car', it lurched forwards at an alarming speed, showing off Rux's love for anything fast and exploding. The Terran struggled to keep the vehicle straight through the tunnels of wires, being rather glad the direction towards Xavius's lab was in a straight line, as controlling this speed was an insane task even in such a straight forward navigation.

And Rux has been using this to travel around the entire facility on his… extra curricular activities.

Johnathan's destination came up quickly, the end of the tunnel leading to the last vent, representing the edge of the research zone. With squealing rubber wheels, the souped up toy came to a stop, dropping off Dr Fletcher at his location with more than enough time to spare. Slowly he got out, looking up at the vent above him, representing the goal he'd been trying to reach for the last three months.

It felt… anticlimactic, that all Johnathan needed to do was climb up to the entrance, kick off four screws with a bang, and he was in.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, and unsurprisingly the room looked exactly like you'd expect a lab to look like: it looked similar to Johnathan's own with the exception of everything being written in a different language, and being about half the size, the lab cut down the middle by a black glass wall. The lights were off, casting deep dark shadows around the room, not allowing Johnathan to see much. Wandering around the floor of the lab for a few minutes led to no immediate revelations about what was happening here, so Johnathan endeavoured to make their way up to the countertop to try pressing on some of the devices there…

Which in his current state, was harder said than done.

There was a moment awkward looking around for Johnathan, hands on his waist as he stared up at the counter standing 4ft tall. Normally a perfectly fine high for a countertop to be situated, but for now might as well have been a million miles high. Climbing up the handles of a set of drawers gave the tiny Terran no luck, as the metal implements bent and broke as he put his full weight on them. The walls were smooth dark glass with no real purchase, and it wasn't as if Xavius was going to appear and give him a leg up onto the counter.

Eventually Johnathan managed to find a handful of supplies and boxes to stack up tall, allowing his tiny form to eventually get up onto a chair, the base spinning awkwardly in a circle before allowing the diminutive figure to jump for the counter top. Johnathan was not an athletic person, even when he hadn't gone through dubious scientific experiments in order to shrink themselves into the tiniest human to ever exist. This meant his landing was not one of grace, but of a disappointing flop onto the hard wooden top of the workspace, winding themselves with an undignified "ooff" escaping their lips. Embarrassing, but it wasn't like anyone could see him.

This exercise had given Johnathan access to several devices he only vaguely knew how to access, a computer terminal, and a set of switches. The computer terminal was worthless, since not only did he not know how to write in whatever language the Hagorthian used, but even when hitting random buttons to eventually turn on the computer screen, it just showed an input box which his translator told him was asking for a password. He didn't even know how to spell the Hagorthian for "password".

This left Johnathan with the row of switches. There were plenty for him to choose from, but obviously to the tiny Terran there was only one choice: The big red one. He pushed one down on it with both hands in anticipation, the big shiny red button depressing with a satisfying click.

All it did was turn the lights to the lab on.

Johnathan's utmost disappointment was stymied by a confusing revelation: The black glass wall he'd brushed up against oversaw another half of the lab. He scrambled across the countertop, squinting his eyes to try and see exactly what was on the other side, before giving a gasp of shock at the sight before him.

Row upon row of Hagorthian bodies were lined up, unmoving, eyes closed forever in a peaceful gaze. Each one looked similar, if not identical to Xavius herself, each one remaining still in its own glass viewing container. That was shocking enough to Johnathan, but the real surprise was the clear and obvious tumors that ran throughout their bodies, bubbling up and covering their reptilian faces and skin. It was a formation Johnathan, and in fact any Terran over the age of 80 would clearly recognize in an instant.

"Is that the God Plague!?"

Dr Fletcher stood slack jawed at the sight. There was no way the people who ran this place would be that stupid, right? You don't toy around with something this dangerous, to cause it to cross species and increase the infection vector. That was reckless, it was insane it was-

"It obviously isn't the God Plague. That wouldn't work."

The guttural voice of clicking teeth and growls caused Johnathan to practically jump out of his skin, spinning around to face the new distraction. Sitting there, in the corner, was Dr Xavius in the flesh. Covered head to claw in a protective anti-viral suit, since even though this side of the lab was 'clean', you could never be too careful when interacting with something as deadly as what she had created.

Xavius stared directly at Dr Fletcher with cold emotionless reptilian eyes, unblinking as they analysed the Terran's soul. Just how long has she been here? How much of his unathletic flopping around did she see?

"Wha...!" Johntan exclaimed with shock, putting up his arms as if he could fight the giant carnivorous reptile in his diminutive form. "Where did you come from!?"

"I... work here. This is my lab. I've been here the entire time." Xavius said those words as if the Terran had asked the stupidest question in the world, and that the answer was obvious. "And to reiterate, the God Plague wouldn't work, as that was a Terran only infection. There are similarities and inspirations from that most delightful puzzle, but the creation is entirely of my own doing. I feel it's fair that you answer my question however: Just what are you doing here?"

There was no malice or anger to Xavius's voice as she said the words, instead a genuine curiosity tinted those words. It's why she hadn't made herself known when the paneling in the floor had been kicked open: It wasn't every day a tiny Terran crawls out of your vents and starts poking around your lab haphazardly: Xavius had wanted to see where this led.

"I..." Johnathan paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, before deciding honestly might be the only way to get through this. "I needed to see what you were working on."

"Really? That's why you're here?" Xavius said with confusion, tilting her head to one side as if to shake an answer of her own mind. "You've spent the last [three months] constantly trying to intrude upon my lab, then subjected yourself to technology with a 21.749% chance to cause your cells to explode... to find out what I was working on? Why didn't you just ask me?"

Johnathan gave a small worried look as the suggestion he had a one in five chance to explode from the shrinking crossed his in, before he realized he'd been asked a question. I stupid question, because there was no way that that...

"You wouldn't have answered!" he shouted indignantly. "You were hiding it, removing yourself from records, picking up your war crime supplies outside the system so they couldn't be tracked! You were keeping it hidden."

"I wasn't, I don't have time for hiding like a coward. It seems Susan prefers her precious deniability. Really, your species requirement for so many rules about what can or can't be studied is infuriating. War crime this and Geneva that. It seems rather pointless when it's approved to be done anyway."

For a brief moment actual, real rage flowed through Xavius's voice, the pain of working through the Terran's continual ethical limitations bubbling to the surface. Science was science, and adding arbitrary rules didn't prevent entire disciplines from existing.

"So if I'd have asked, you'd have answered?" Johnathan said the words slowly, feeling as if the answer would break his spirit.

"Indeed. It is the Terrans who are ashamed of progress, I am fully open with my work." Indeed, Dr Xavius felt that the best advances always came through collaboration, even if those you were collaborating with were never quite as intelligent as you were. "I've spoken with a few people here about my work. Never fully sadly, but parts, ideas. Your companion, Dr Splut... or Spencer? Whatever his name is now, has been very helpful in this area."

Both knowing that Spencer knew all along, and that he could have just asked instead of going through all this hassle, knocked the fight right out of Johnathan. He let his tiny shoulders slump over as the futility of his actions hit him, learning that all he had to do was ask... An awkward silence filled the room, until Xavius gave a small forced cough.

"So are you going to ask the question?" Xavius said, finally interrupting the pause with an annoyed tone.

"What question?" Johnathan asked, causing more frustration in the Hagorthian's voice.

"What have I been working on, are you going to ask that?" There was blatant pain in Xavius' voice, as she wondered whether this primate in front of her was actually intelligent at all.

"Well, what are you working on?"

Xavius gave a deep happy sigh and a small toothy smile, finally able to show off her work to someone who might actually understand it. Probably.

"It's an ingenious solution to the Hagorthian problem, taking advantage of our physiology, along with the lessons I learned curing Project Genesis, or the "God Plague" As you Terrans so unscientifically put it. It isn't the same strain, but it does take inspiration from one of the most fascinating puzzles I've encountered during my life: Even though Terrans didn't mean to create such brilliance, I would not wish to ignore what you created with the God Plague."

Johnathan didn't know how to feel about Xavius calling something that killed nearly half of all humans a 'genius puzzle', but decided not to let his feelings be known as the Hagorthian continued.

"The normal Hagorthian physiology never stops growing, through a series of hormonal glands regulating growth in relation to age and available resources. Our origin homeworld was one ruled by giant mammals, so our evolutionary advantage was to use this food stuppy to outgrow even the mightiest Kwitwa. Due to my genetic abnormality I personally do not grow in the same way, but still have the same glands providing me with my intellectual prowess."

Xavius wondered if Johnathan needed some intellectual prowess gaining glands as her talk continued.

"My project is simple: It uses the adaptability and infectiousness of the God Plague, to infect the target and force the glands to overproduce, causing tumors and death within a very short timescale. Much improved over the 'God Plague' in fact, hyper specialization against the Hagorthian physiology means death will come for targets within between 4 weeks and 36 minutes, depending on the strain used, since higher levels of incubation time result in higher infection rates. It is transmittable by air, water and touch, and will stay active within a body for over a month: Very useful since Hagorthian culture often involves eating the dead."

Xavius finally finished talking, giving Johnathan the opportunity to respond. He took a moment to glance behind him, at the rows of Hagorthian corpses displayed in a line, giving a disgusted look at what had been happening here.

"So what… you've been infecting people with your death warcrime, here in this lab here?"

"No, your annoying government has refused to provide actual test subjects, therefore I had to improvise. These are clones of myself to be used as subpar test subjects. And before you ask, since every other Terran did: Yes, I grew them without a frontal lobe. No thoughts, just a body that breathes and dies, for your precious Terran sensibilities." Xavius gave another huff at the Terran sensibilities forcing her to work around continual cries of ethics. "This really is a problem, as I've hit the limit to my current research: I'm not a standard Hagorthian, and there's only so much you can learn from mindless clones. Actions will have to be taken to ensure the project's progress."

Dr Fletcher looked around, at the passive way Xavius calmly explained what she had created, at the… horrific nature of what she was describing. Weaponising the God Plague… there's no way people would accept this, not this.

"But... you can't use this. This is illegal… this is insane!"

Xavius gave a small shrug in response, unphased by the statement.

"My job was not to create something based on the random Terran definition of what is allowed. I was told to develop the most efficient solution to the Estorian problem, which I have done."

"You're really fine doing... this to your own people!" Johnathan asked the question, wondering if the lizard in front of him had any kind of emotional response inside of them.

"They are not what they are supposed to be. Hagorthian are, as a general rule, stupid." Xavius stated, insulting her entire species with no qualms or issues doing so. "However they counter this by being very good at following instructions. Hagorthian starship engineers don't know about warp cores or fuel ratios and sensor ranges. They do know however that if the two lights are blinking yellow, they should slow down, and a blue light means more fuel is needed, and a flashing red with an alarm sound means evacuate from the ship as fast as possible. Do you know what I am, Dr Johnathan Fletcher?"

"Hagorthian?"

Dr Xavius gave a deep sigh at that answer, once again wondering if Johnathan Fletcher was a real doctor, or just one who had found his doctorates in a cereal box.

"More specific than that. I am known as a Yulari, which literally translates to 'thinking man'. Once in a generation, a special Hagorthian is born and somehow survives to adulthood. They do not grow like the others, but instead know things. Each time they will lead the Hagorthian to new levels of technological enlightenment: Fire, agriculture, electricity, warp travel. Then, they die of old age, and those left behind follow the instructions they leave until a new one is born."

"So what happened to you?" Johnathan could already guess the answer before he asked the question, but did so anyway.

"Between the last Yulari and now? They met new friends amongst the stars that gave them new instructions on how to have the best time: Create a totalitarian slave empire of endless hunting and feasting. I'm sure you can guess how they feel about hosting geniuses who might have uppity ideas about better methods of doing things. Can you imagine the stagnation, the decay? A species with no advancement whatsoever. No government projects, no underground societies, not even a child looking up at the stars and asking 'What if?'. Simply an army with a state that's content to follow the orders of whatever crumpled up notes another species passes along."

For the first time, a hint of sadness and betrayal entered the voice of Xavius, a deeper darker rage than the annoyance suffered by working with the Terrans. In another age and another world, she should be leading her people to new heights of technological greatness, instead of dealing with these silly primates who cared too much.

"Sorry about that..." Jonathan said, actually feeling sorry for the Hagorthian.

"Don't be, you cannot change what has happened." There was a clinical detachment in her tone now, almost applied like a mask. "My people, as you called them, are currently lost, and only burning out the rot will suffice. What is crueler: operating to save a life, or letting a patient wither away until they are skin and bones, a hollow shell of what they once were?"

Johnathan slumped his shoulders, a tiredness overcoming him as even though he'd learned everything he wanted to find out, Xavius's complete lack of emotion or care about what she was creating… drained him.

"What…? But… still, you can't do this! This is going to spread like wildfire. Millions, billions dead-!"

"Millions is possible. Billions would be unlikely, unless Terrans stop being so infuriating 'ethical'. You're staying nothing new: The same lines I've heard a thousand times, and imagined hearing a thousand more. I almost thought you'd have something new to say. If you don't, then leave."

Xavius waved off the tiny Terran with one clawed hand, pointing to the door as if to shoo the intruder away, to avoid having to continue this banal discussion about what she could or could not do, before adding one last request towards Dr Fletcher.

"And if you see Susan, tell her that I still need actual real life Hagorthian test subjects. My research cannot wait."