“They are suffocating Admiral. Slowly. The samples we have collected of the atmosphere indicate that there is a large percentage of Xenon in the atmosphere. It’s upwards of 70% of the air that they breathe.” Professor Farris says as she sits across from me at the conference table.

It has only been twelve hours since we landed yet in that we have occupied the planet, taken strategic positions and isolated threats. They managed to get a beacon out but that was stifled as soon as we detected it. Sure, it may have gotten through, but it was weakened through our interference. We’re like someone who’s blind in one eye due to our lacking information but with this we’ll make sure no one else can see at all. Delay and fortify is our main concern until we get the Way-Finder Canon up and operational.

“Our environment suits identify the air as toxic. Not unbreathable. Please explain.” I argue in response.

“While the Xenon does form toxic compounds when mixed with Oxygen what your suits are picking up is negligible and the human body can negate the diluted compounds. What is far more of an issue is that the planet’s atmosphere closely mimics a type of general anaesthetic.” She says grimly.

“So, you’re telling me that we can breathe the air, but it’ll knock anyone who tries into a coma? How are these aliens walking around then?”

“It is known that some people have reported being aware under the effects of general anaesthetics. My team has theorised that something in the biological make-up of these aliens allows them to resist the inducement of a sleep-like state.”

“If they’re as resistant as you say, and the air is breathable then how are they suffocating?” I ask incredulous.

“Xenon is 4.5 times heavier than Oxygen. It gets stuck in your lungs, builds up and, eventually no Oxygen can make it into your system. Imagine it like breathing water as easily as you do air, only you drown over the course of weeks instead of minutes.” The despondency in her voice chills me to the bone.

“I’ve seen images of them walking without masks. How are they still alive?”

“From the autopsies we can attribute it to a gland near the heart that filters it and from there it is expelled. Although, the removal of Xenon is not it’s intended function as comparing the concentration of the element between cadavers and considering their ages… Final suffocation would occur about two and a half decades of constant exposure.”

Erin Farris continues to talk about how it is just a theory at the moment and more tests need to occur but that matters little when we are on this short a time scale. This is the information I have, and I’ll be forced to use what little it is to base my plans off of.

“Enough, Farris. Being able to breathe would lighten the strain on resources and the need for this planet to be Terra-formed is evident; but before I can give the go ahead, I need to know if we gather the atmospheric Xenon, will it be useful? And, can they survive if we replace Xenon with Nitrogen?”

“Admiral, you spoke with someone who has proven that they can breathe Nitrogen. Art Ryte while on this vessel was breathing a mixture of 76% Nitrogen and 22% Oxygen with no obvious ill effects.” She pauses for a few seconds before breathing strongly through her nose as if resigned to the situation. “Yes, Xenon is a rare element and has varied uses. Mainly, medical but it’s also useful for, Analytical Chemistry and spacecraft propulsion.”

“I’m not sure about long term exposure but if I was out there breathing that and dying slowly with family and friends… I’d accept it in a heartbeat. Sorry if I was out of line, Admiral.” She finishes tersely.

“Not at all, We’ve all been under pressure since we landed and I’m afraid some have been affected more-so by the events that have taken place. You’re dismissed Professor. If you’d like to talk to someone, I can put you at the top of the list to see Doctor Parke if you’d like?” I say calmly as I sort through the printed report, she had given me.

“Yes, sir.” She salutes and leaves through the doorway.

After going through the report and adding footnotes and annotations to summarise Farris’ work so I can reference it later I check in with my hourly planner. I have five more minutes left until my next appointment with Ryan to discuss the outgoing signal. I remember however that the alien called Art should be protected, at least for now. Excitable children always seem to be lightning rods for scrapes and bruises and as I keep learning about this planet the more worry I feel about letting her out of our grasp.

Even if it’s a tight leash a dog with enough effort can still slip the lead. I should relax a bit more since everything seems to be going well. The housing, administration and business sectors all fell under our control more smoothly than originally planned. Only two marines were lost during the whole operations and one wounded close enough to the ships Med-bay that they’ll make a full recovery.

I send a message to Commander Arbor informing him about the air issue and instruct that he let Miss Ryte keep the environmental suit. I’ll rearrange the patrol routes to make sure their house is monitored and no prying eyes besides those we clear can get insight into our tech. Judging by the current state of the buildings and the majority of the population in harsh conditions that may not be necessary. Beside the mining operation there is pretty much no industry to speak of.

There are a few shops close to the spaceport that seem to be catering towards supervisors and other administrative staff but given the current circumstances, not many who actually live here have the means to support those businesses. As soon as the deposits run dry this place was doomed to become a ghost town. It would have had one foot in deaths door were it not for most of the workers being too poor to afford a ticket to the next closest inhabitable world in the Union.

That reminds me, I wonder what they’re digging for under the surface. From what we’ve gathered there is only one shaft in operation, and this is the only known settlement on this world that we can tell. A shockingly minor operation given that the planet is about 2/3rds the size of Earth given our estimation while we were in orbit. It’s such a shame that the last outgoing shipment departed a few days before we arrived, and the miners have yet to transport the next load to the surface.

It’s just so annoying that the translation process run by our machines are having this much difficulty in figuring out the written language when the verbal communication program seemed to be so effective. The plans that I could make with all the knowledge harvested from their computerised storage would have bested my current one by far.

I hear the audio indicator letting me know my break is over and there is someone waiting outside the door to this room. I check my schedule and it seems it is my last meeting for the day which is both a relief and a time that we are more vulnerable. If I’m not awake or aware there are just some things that can’t be authorised. It seems I’ll have to groom a replacement. I’m too vital to the mission that losing me would set us back or even risk failure. My age is also something to consider much to my dismay.

I click the button under the table and the door unlocks to allow Ryan into the room. He also seems to be lacking sleep, but I can only tell from his darkened eye’s due to how he holds himself. I have to commend him on being able to look exhausted while simultaneously seeming ready to jump upon any issue.

“I hope you didn’t mind the walk; the conference rooms are much more central in the ship. Makes it closer to the departments I need to manage.” I say snarkily, giving my best smirk.

“Yet you somehow manage to get further and further away from me. I wonder what the definition of closer is in your mind. Nevertheless, I have paper for you to ignore while I explain the details.” He responds icily.

“Oh great. My favourite snack.” I chuckle before settling myself and get into focus. “Now tell me where the signal was going, what was on it and how much got through.”

“Towards the Union Citadel as far as my team can tell, though the signal isn’t strong enough to reach it all the way there. But it doesn’t really need to. If it manages to reach one of the closer satellites or planets the message can be relayed to others.”

“Fuck. What’s the ETA on the nearest capable station we know about?”

“Approximately 6 days. From there it can be across all systems under their control within a couple weeks.” He shakes his head before shuffling his own copies of the report that he gave me. “About halfway down page 16 on my report is the transcription detailing what they were sending. It’s both unflattering and uninformed in my opinion but who are they going to believe? Us or people they know?”

As I read it, I notice that the transcription paints us as the aggressors in this confrontation. It details an approximation of our fleet and their guess on the classification of our vessels. It’s information that would have been best left buried.

“Get whatever visual recording you can and scrape together a narrative. Thanks to one of our marines we have a few of the aliens with a good first impression despite the situation. Also, get good coverage over the Terra-forming of this world. Turns out everyone here is dying and I’m sure this throw a wrench in how they’re portraying us as raiders. If we spin it properly, they won’t have any grounds to object to our methods.”

“I’ll whisper only the sweetest lies. though, I’ll need your approval for more resources to further develop our translators and permission to hire a local to add a more personal touch to our documentary.”

“Documentary?” I ask curious to his wording.

“But of course, Admiral. Aliens are not the only people we need to convince. Sometimes people like you get too focussed on the immediate threat to realise that it’s not the fun things that cause empires to crumble. It’s the threat from within that’ll weaken the pillars holding us up.” He stands up from the table and makes his way towards the door.

“I admire how you trust the crew Hamilton, just try not to expect too much from us. We are only Human.” He says as the door shuts behind him leaving no room for response.

I open the draw and place both reports within it before locking it up. There’s nothing fancy about the lock. It doesn’t recognise fingerprints, require a pin to be punched in, nor is even able to withstand any amount of force. All it needs is a key or a good punch and it spills its secrets for everyone. That is why I like it. Its one of the best safes I’ve ever installed and on this vessel that is saying a lot. The reason I trust it so is because it isn’t in our ships system, blends into the table in a way that the lock is obscured and is located in the most secure room of this vessel. So, as I leave the conference room without even locking it, I know that everything I leave will be found just the way I left it.

As I walk to my next destination, I take note of the corridors along the way. Three years can really change a place and the whole ship has seen a great transformation from a cold utilitarian device into a more organic and lived in environment. The most noticeable difference would be the plant-life and general artwork displayed along the walls. Doctor Parke has been at the centre of it all in this regard. There have been issues with the crew dealing with the reality of our isolation.

No matter how much we prepared for our voyage our training would have still fallen short. The push to follow the Alpha signal rushed many things that should have been more considered but it led us to the distress signal and alien life. Encountering Captain Erent was one of the greatest moments of my career but there is still yet time for something greater. All I have to do is see through the most volatile negotiation with consequences that I’ll likely never fully understand the full ramifications of.

I finally arrive at the Brig. It’s nothing impressive but it doesn’t need to be. A long corridor filled with reinforced doors on both sides. Each door leads into a small 3 metre by 3 metre room which holds only a bed and toilet. The original purpose being somewhere to store drunk crew members for a night or temporary confinement until our mission was complete. Although it’s a pretty lenient definition of temporary. Luckily nothing has occurred as far as to require these rooms besides the one reason I am here. I walk to the end of the corridor and nod towards the guard stationed outside door number 15.

“Hands up against the far wall!” He bellowed, and the robotic translator spoke in turn.

I could hear the shuffling of cloth and a grunt of annoyance coming from behind the door.

“Stay still! Do not move!” The guard continued before grabbing at the key card clipped onto his waist.

He scanned the card and the door moved upwards into the roof. It was designed so that should power be cut to this district the doors would be forced to close under our artificial gravity. Of course, it wouldn’t work that well if our artificial gravity were cut but then we’d have other more immediate problems than a few rouge prisoners. At least that was how they explained it to me back when they were designing the ship schematics.

When it was signalled that I was allowed to enter I did so with curiosity over Erent’s condition. Securing the vessel, he was in charge of was one of the main priorities on landing planet side. That being said securing the planet’s power generation, space station and administrative buildings were primary objectives. As for those who tried to depart the planet, they would have met the Orbital Wall. A network of military turrets stocked with EMP rounds.

A civilian transport is currently drifting aimlessly towards the solar systems sun due to this. We’ll pick them up later of course but there is no rush. Especially when there is so much to do here. Having those rich enough to escape off-world makes it easier to control those who had to remain anyway.

“Good evening Captain. I hope our accommodations have more than met your standards.” I say to the man in handcuffs kneeling in front of me.

I take a good look at the alien in front of me. Some sort of array of colour reflects off his black feathers. If I had to describe it, it would be similar to the colour oil makes on cement as it reflects the sun. His face is oddly familiar and reminds me of the sparrows I’d often seen on Earth as a child.

Only this one is enlarged with less wingspan and more developed claws that I suppose would better enable more complex hand gestures. It seems that no matter what species I see, they all seem to be humanoid in one way or another. Maybe it has something to do with how as a species grows more intelligent  that intelligence influences that species evolution. I’ll ask Farris to give me an explanation later when I have time.

“I gave you what you wanted. Keep your end of the deal.” It spit at my feet.

“Oh, but I have Captain. You were escorted to safety and were free. It was unfortunate that you had to land on a military base though. We had to take you in for questioning because of that.” I say as politely as if the smile on my face was genuine.

“That’s Bullshit!”

“The translator seems to be getting better at least,” I say to myself out loud. “But we can’t have that kind of language being spoken on a respectable vessel such as this. If you don’t calm down, it could result in regrettable actions being undertaken.”

I see his shoulder joints slump as all the tension he built up leaves him a defeated… man? It doesn’t matter that much how he feels about his imprisonment, there are ways of turning people to your side even if they are unwilling. All it requires is time and patients. A carrot and a stick to lead a donkey along a path.

“Now now. It doesn’t have to be like this. You and I both know that the Union will show you no sympathy on your return. They’ll see you as the traitor. A coward. A fool. But you want to know what I see in you?” I say kneeling down to look into its eyes.

“I see a future in which you are celebrated. A real Captain in a real military. I imagine you visiting our home world not as a prisoner of war but a noble peace maker. Can you hear the crowd cheering and applauding? As you, someone who came from nothing, are given the highest award for bravery by the leader of Humanity.” I stand up and turn towards the door without waiting for its response.

“How!” he screams. “How can I trust you to keep your word when you’ve failed to keep it before!”

“There are two sides to this story Erent. I need to know which side you are on.” I say before I turn back to look at it. “As for our previous arrangement, you will be freed no matter your decision. But that’ll have to wait until after our position is secured. I hope you think well on my proposal. It’s an offer that has an expiration date.”

I leave the room and wait for the guard to lock the door behind us. I feel a bit cold tonight. I’ll have to ask the person in charge of life support to raise the temperature a few degrees later. Perks of being the Admiral.

“Officer.” I say loud enough to be heard. “Move him to one of the spare rooms and keep him under house arrest. He’s not a guest but neither is he fully prisoner from this point on.”

“Yes, sir!” He salutes.

Then as fast as I arrived, I left for my next destination. My quarters. My back hurts, I’ve a splitting headache and my judgement will be affected if I do not sleep, yet I know it’ll be difficult to fall asleep. I should really visit the doctor and demand a prescription for sleep tablet but that’ll only end with an argument. Probably another loud one, fucking quack.

It’s my ship and I can’t get a few tablets. Who would have thought that the only person I had no jurisdiction over would be that asshole? When I get home, I’m putting in a complaint to rework a few choice military edicts. ‘Medical sovereignty from political entities’ is such a pain in my… head.