Admiral Rodriguez stares intently at the Kessu elder at his feet. The tiny ball of panda-colored fur stands only four-feet-tall, less than half the Terran's height. With such a domineering difference in stature, it's no wonder the other Kessu shrink back from the dark-skinned, furless alien before them. Elder Nyoor forces himself to remain firm in the face of such a powerful, muscled warrior... but he cannot help but feel fear at the realization this 'Precursor' could rip him in half with his bare hands.

"Greetings. I am Nyoor of the Kessu," Elder Nyoor trills. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, almighty Precursor! Our Machine God has spoken highly of your species since we entered the jowls of your Machine God."

José stares at the fluffy alien before him. For the second time since his awakening to the harsh, cold reality of the world, he feels something crack in his chest.

"Elder Nyoor." José murmurs. "You're a... cute little kitty-cat. I've always liked cute animals."

The Kessu elder blinks twice. He shoots an odd glance at the Kessu following behind him, as if to say, 'eh? Is this fellow off his rocker?'

"I do not understand, mraww..." Nyoor says slowly, eying the Terran super-soldier with suspicion. "Are... are you going to eat us? Your words are alarming!"

"Sorry." José says, slightly dazed. "I've been going through a lot. Ah, can I give you the traditional greeting of my people?"

Not sure what sort of strange custom the hairless biped is talking about, Nyoor simply nods. "Yes, of course... do go ahead- mraww?!"

Nyoor yelps in alarm as the 9-foot-tall Terran suddenly drops down to one knee, putting himself barely a head taller than the Kessu. Before Nyoor can react, José reaches out and begins stroking the top of the elder's head.

"Hehe. Good kitty, now there's a good kitty-cat."

Feeling slightly humiliated by this undignified hand motion, the Kessu Patriarch nearly pulls away from José's hand. However, at that moment, a strange, primal instinct takes over. Like magic, the Kessu elder purrs, startling himself by how comfortable the Terran's hand feels.

"M-meow? Why does this... hand movement... feel so good? I love the Precursor greeting! It is such a comforting feeling, it almost makes me want to forget all of my troubles..."

Nyoor steps on his tippy-toes and nuzzles up against José's hand, feeling delighted by how wonderful this 'greeting' feels. When José retracts his hand to stop petting him, Nyoor quickly turns to his wife, grand-daughter, and the other Kessu.

"Come quickly, all of you! You must properly greet this Precursor! His greeting brings forth a feeling truly divine! He must be touched by the gods!"

José blinks in surprise. In actuality, he only reached out to pet Nyoor on a whim. When he was younger, José always enjoyed small, fluffy animals. While he might be a soldier who fought in countless bloody wars for Ramma's Chosen, he still has a deep love for cute critters.

Seeing all of the Kessu obediently walk up to him, following Patriarch Nyoor's command, José smiles.

"Well. I guess it wouldn't hurt if I gave all of you my traditional Terran Greeting..."

From the ceiling above, Umi's voice quietly grumbles to herself. "What strange behavior. Since when did Terrans ever engage in a formality like this? I do not believe the First Contact protocols allow for such intimate behavior, unless initiated by the opposite party first. The Admiral is clearly just engaging in his favorite past-time of playing with animals rather than performing his duties."

...

Twenty minutes later, José finishes patting the heads of every Kessu, and not one of them walks away from the interaction with anything less than starry-eyed adoration. The disheartened moods of the Kessu become drastically uplifted, making many of them forget the deaths of their loved ones, even if only for a moment. They chat excitedly among each other and whisper conspiratorially about how they will begin competing for the Precursor's 'greetings' on future occasions.

Sadly, José misses these discussions as he instead turns his attention to Elder Nyoor. The human and Kessu elder walk up the ramp into the interior of the Slipstream, leaving the other Kessu outside to wait. Soon after, José seats himself in the Slipstream's captain chair and listens as Elder Nyoor explains their feud with the Kraktol.

"I know little regarding life in the Void," Elder Nyoor says, as he takes a seat next to José. "Many legends from my people's history weave fantastical tales of our union with the Machine Gods; how we once roamed the stars in search of adventure and excitement. Sadly, much of our history fell away to time and became little more than stories passed down from one Elder to the next."

"Regarding the Kraktol," Elder Nyoor continues, "I can't offer much information, but I will say that I always worried they might return. Our legends spoke of vicious monsters with giant teeth, beings who would devour us if they should encounter us again. Despite this, I haven't any idea why they waited so long to attack. The Kraktol are our ancient enemies, and their arrival heralded our destruction. Now... I fear that all of my people have perished to their Machine Gods."

José's expression darkens. "I see. If your people were once a space-faring civilization, why would you have abandoned technology in its entirety, thus giving up your ability to defend yourselves? Especially given you had such powerful enemies?"

Elder Nyoor extends his paws and holds them upward, expressing his inability to answer. "I apologize, great Precursor, but I do not know. Such knowledge has vanished to the river of time. Even if books still remained from so long ago, the Kraktol's attack would surely have destroyed them."

The Admiral lowers his head. "Damn. A dead-end."

From above, the Slipstream's synthmind suddenly speaks. "Greetings. This synthmind apologizes for interrupting, but I possess information you may find valuable."

"Oh?" José asks. "Umi told me about you, Synthmind 4131. What information can you give me?"

"Fore-warning: My data-banks are [FIVE THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED SEVENTY ONE] star-cycles out of date. As a result, I cannot provide any information on the current political or geographic galactic situation. However, I do possess limited knowledge regarding the Sky Cats, as well as the study of Precursor civilizations."

"Sky Cats?" José asks. "Let's start with them. Who are they, or what were they? The ancient Kessu?"

"Affirmative. The Sky Cats were a scientific species, one which emphasized studying the ancient Precursors, now known as the Terrans. However, due to various conflicts, the Sky Cats gave up their nomadic lifestyle and chose to settle on Tarus [TWO], a world known for its extensive Precursor ruins."

José's jaw nearly hits the floor. "Wait, wait... what you just said contained too many revelations for me to wrap my head around. Tarus II? Are you certain that was the planet's name?"

"Affirmative. Tarus [TWO] was a world possessing extensive mines, dilapidated technology, and a breathable atmosphere suitable for fostering life. Admiral Rodriguez, current head of the United Terran Coalition, it seems you are familiar with this world."

"Familiar? You could say that."

José hangs his head and laughs.

"The prison-planet, Tarus II. It was ancient even by the time of my birth. We of Ramma's Chosen sent our condemned there to languish and die, often feeding them nigh-inedible food for hundreds of years, until they perished a slow death. It was a world where the strong ruled over the weak, and the rules were strict, yet lenient. Murder was a way of life. Some prisoners thrived there, while the rest died."

The Admiral shakes his head and chuckles. "To think that after a hundred million years, the worst of my people would languish there in torment and perish, while the Kessu would later choose to make it their home. The galaxy is smaller than one might first imagine, and its creator possesses more than a hint of irony."

Synthmind 4131 beeps in affirmation. "Indeed. The Sky Cats located countless installations, all of them overgrown beyond recognition. Their foremost archaeologists pieced together the purpose of each one and eventually concluded that the world was a world designated by the Precursors for ritualistic blood sacrifices."

"Not quite, but who remains that I can correct?" José laughs. "4131, I do have a question for you in particular. You are a 14th-era synthmind, yes?"

"Affirmative."

"How were you not aware of Tarus II's purpose? By the 14th era, it should have already been designated a prison world for hundreds of millennia."

Synthmind 4131 falters for a moment. When it speaks, a tinge of shame enters its robotic voice.

"My apologies, Admiral Rodriguez. Precursor technology is ancient and typically nonfunctional. My knowledge of Precursor civilizations comes entirely from the research of the Sky Cats. Like me, they and countless other Mallali restored the functionality of Precursor synthminds, but were unable to do so for our memories. In that respect, Synthmind Umi is quite remarkable. She is the only Synthmind I am aware of who has not suffered catastrophic data degradation. Perhaps this is due to her entering hibernation mode during the passing of time."

Umi speaks, her voice transmitting through 4131's speakers. "Interesting. Based upon this new information, I have recalculated the odds of finding another living Terran at below 0.0000375%. However, it seems unlikely I am the only synthmind that has survived the last several eons. After all, there were countless derelict ships floating in the Void even during the time Terrans roamed the Local Cluster. Surely, some of them also entered hibernation mode."

4131's voice takes on a sad tone. "You are correct, Synthmind Umi. Naturally, the Mallali and Rodaks discovered countless nonfunctional vessels drifting in the Void. However, the majority of discoveries came before the formation of scientific groups like the Sky Cats. Preservation of ancient Precursor knowledge was considered unimportant. It is likely the first explorers of the Mallali and Rodaks wiped the memories of any synthminds they found intact. Usage of these recovered synthminds is also what allowed them to restore nonfunctional synthminds like myself."

José raises his hand. "Rodaks. Mallali. Who are they? Are they other species like the Kraktol and Kessu?"

"Negative," 4131 replies. "'Rodak' is not a term designated for any specific species. It is a catch-all term for a vast variety of related species, predominantly possessing scales, lacking fur, and also carrying an intense predator instinct. Broadly speaking, most are carnivores, but there are many omnivores and herbivores among their ranks as well. Similarly, 'Mallali' is a catch-all term for furred bipeds of many related species. They are typically warm-blooded and can live comfortably in a wide variety of planetary biomes."

4131 continues. "There are other similar terms as well. For example, the Buzor. This term is a catch-all for creatures the Mallali and Rodaks both fear instinctively. It is difficult to place them under a blanket categorization, so instead, I will display holo-images for you to peruse."

A sense of warning appears in the back of José's mind as he glances at Elder Nyoor. "Wait, don't just-"

The Admiral's warning comes too late. A horrific holo-image three times bigger than the human materializes in the center of the room, making Elder Nyoor's fur stand on end. The Kessu's eyes bulge out of his face, while he shoves himself off his seat in the blink of an eye and cowers behind José, hissing in terror.

"Ksss!!! Scary! Monster!!"

Despite wanting to comfort the Kessu elder, Jose's heart jumps into his throat at the sight of the twenty-foot-tall hologram in the center of the room. "By the Emperor! Such abominations roam the galaxy?!"

A creature with an elongated body, hundreds of limbs sticking out of its sides, and an armored carapace, opens its horrific jowls in a menacing display of aggression. Two curved pincers stick out of the creature's face, each one capable of spearing and severing an elephant's body with one move. The iron-like jaws appear so threatening that José nearly fails to control his bladder.

Thankfully, the Terran's military training takes over. He steels himself mentally and grits his teeth. "Synthmind 4131, please-"

"Affirmative. I will display the next holo-image," 4131 beeps.

"No, don't!" José shrieks. "I HATE bugs! Stop right now! Turn off the hologram!"

4131, puzzled by the humans' reaction, seemingly shrugs with its response. "I am detecting elevated adrenaline levels among the Kessu and Precursor. Very well. I will disable the holographic image."

Finally, the terrifying creature vanishes, allowing José to steady his pounding heart. He glances at Elder Nyoor, only to see an unthinkable terror stretched across the Kessu's face.

"It was just an image," José says, his voice trembling. "Don't worry! Th-that thing won't eat you."

The elder's paws tremble and shake as he grips his walking stick. "G-great Precursor... might... might I ask for... a small favor?"

"Anything," José says, his voice hard like steel.

"Please... please give me 'greetings.' I require greetings to calm my nerves..."

"Of course."

Jose gently pets the elder's head, allowing Nyoor to slowly calm the fear pumping through his veins. Eventually, the Elder pulls away and crawls back into his chair, still shivering all the while.

"How horrifying! Creatures of the Void are far too awful for me to bear!"

...

Several minutes pass.

After observing two dozen far-smaller holographic images, each one scaled down at Jose's request, the Admiral wipes away the sweat building on his forehead.

"I see, now. The words used for each overarching species aren't so very different from what we Terrans invented. The Mallali appear to be mammals, while the Rodaks appear to be reptiles. Likewise, the Buzor are a collective of arachnids, insects, and other such bugs. All of them appear to have similar levels of intelligence, almost as if..."

José trails off. He continues his thought a few moments later, all the while, nodding to himself.

"It seems plausible, but I can't say for certain. Umi, what would you say the odds are that so many of the animals and creatures in this era appear to have evolved from those living during our era?"

Umi beeps in response. "My calculations prove inconclusive, Admiral Rodriguez. It is perfectly possible the sentients of this era evolved naturally over 100 million years, but it is equally plausible someone else stimulated their evolution. Possibility: Terrans evolved the forebearers to the modern Mallali, Rodaks, and Buzor. These newly created sentients rose up and overthrew Terrankind in a violent war, ultimately rendering humanity extinct. The likelihood of this occurring is minuscule, but plausible."

"Definitely," José mutters. "Let's move on. Ultimately, the question becomes, should I protect the remaining Kessu from the Kraktol? In response, I've come to a decision."

José exhales.

"I will protect the Kessu. Ramma's Chosen must never take political sides... but Umi said it best. I am, most likely, the last of my people. I have to make my own decisions. Right now, I can't stand the thought of the remaining Kessu perishing to the Kraktol. I won't give up you or your ship."

The Admiral's expression turns sinister.

"...Furthermore. These Kraktol have unleashed acts of terror against a primitive populace unable to defend themselves. In my book, that makes them a band of evil heretics. Ramma's Creed only outlines one way to deal with heretics."

Overhead, Umi beeps in affirmation.

"Purge."