ã€ŠNature of Restraintsã€‹


 Prologue/Foreward

    Credit to u/SpacePaladin15</a> for NoP¡¯s world and story. It¡¯s amazing the level of community that¡¯s been inspired by what you made, myself included!

    This story won¡¯t be done in the memory transcription format, as I¡¯d prefer not to confine myself to that perspective/style alone. I¡¯ve been working on and off on this for a while and decided to finally actually post it. It¡¯s not finished yet, but I¡¯m well along. Chapters are quite long, so I¡¯ll think about how best to cut/format them for easier consumption (on Reddit, at least). I tend to be long-winded when I write though (as I¡¯m no doubt already showcasing).

    As a note, I¡¯ve taken things about NoP in my own direction and expanded cultural aspects in my own ways, especially things having to do with the Arxur Dominion. I¡¯ve made minimal efforts to slide the story into the official NoP timeline besides ¡°somewhere near the end,¡± and taken especially the conclusion of NoP 1 in a bit of a different direction.

    Parts of the narrative are planned to delve into NSFW, but a majority is merely suggestive and alludes to certain mature core topics.

    I¡¯ll be sure to mark chapters and separate such sections accordingly, as I understand that most might not vibe with full-on erotica, but might still be interested in the characters/story. I¡¯m multi-posting sections to reddit under u/BlastaMastaZDSS on the NOP subreddit, the naughty bits will go onto the NoP NSFW subreddit. If I¡¯m in breach of any rules/standards, please let me know!

    Arxur-Human Exchange Profile

    Name: Rasvai

    Female Arxur

    Prior Occupation: Dominion Propagandist and Broadcaster

    Expected Occupation: Undecided

    Screening Notes: Rasvai is remarkably intelligent and has proven herself to be quite cunning. Both screening and scans show her empathetic tendencies are hyper-focused on reading the purpose of others, their intents, and the implications behind their words. Though she does not emote much, she is insightful towards subjective questions and answers rather manipulatively, matching whatever context they are given to maintain some degree of favorable perception. She becomes frustrated when confronted by inconsistent logic or conflicting conversation partners, as they offer her little framework for her usual strategy.

    Given her prior occupation and frequent brushes with Betterment via the Dominion¡¯s broadcasting systems, it is reasonable to assume she has subconsciously adapted her perceived ¡°defects¡± for use in currying favor. She maintains, emphatically and repeatedly, that she worked closely with but was never an agent of Betterment.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    She has admitted to a long history of violence with other arxur, though maintains a remarkable level of discipline and restraint when dealing with humans. Tests designed to push or frustrate were met with expected reactions, but few signs of violence outside the norm. Per Advocate''s recommendation, no covert tolerance tests were conducted.

    During her interviews, she has expressed regret and disgust with arxur practices regarding sentient rations. When offered sentient rations ¡°under the table¡± by an arxur plant, security intervention was immediately necessary to curtail her violent response to our agent. There are zero signs of recidivism regarding sentient meat.

    Note from Dr. Torres: The manipulation detailed above loses us support among the arxur, and keeps riling up rumors that the Dominion has Betterment agents hiding in our programs. I want my objection to these underhanded methods noted and I¡¯ll leave them wherever they¡¯re goddamn relevant! End Note

    Voluntary care beyond the required therapeutic workup and health screening was repeatedly denied by Rasvai. She is notably unwilling to express any sign of weakness, either physical or mental. She regarded the idea of therapy and vulnerability with open scorn but acknowledged that if it was a requirement for the exchange, she would subject herself to it.

    She has expressed a repeated and consistent desire to integrate and build a new life for herself away from the dictates of Betterment specifically. Rasvai has also expressed distrust and suspicion regarding humanity¡¯s purpose with the exchange but seems resigned, accepting whatever she believes awaits her in Sol.

    Stage 1 Exchange Eligibility: Approved

    Pairing: When asked, she expressed no preference for an exchange partner. Given her history, clear skepticism, and paranoia, Rasvai would be best paired with someone open, extroverted, and unfiltered. With any luck, someone without ulterior motives and a clear communication style will help her improve her social skills. She has admitted to never having formed any bonds outside of direct blood relations and seems doubtful such things are even possible.

    Exchange Partner Selected: Callie Strobel

    Note: Miss Strobel has experienced two failures in the program before Rasvai. Her first partner was ejected from the program due to faking their interactions by using a chat program and was revealed to have bribed their way into the program.

    Her second partner was withdrawn due to an unrelated traumatic breakdown. Miss Strobel has not expressed any desire to withdraw from the program. In fact, she continues to exchange letters with her second partner as they are being rehabilitated.

    Stage 2 Exchange Eligibility: Co-Habitation approved with the following conditions:

    Overt geo-monitoring via ankle cuff. A covert panic button should be provided to Rasvai''s partner to trigger a rapid on-site response. Weekly liaison visits and communication quotas.

    I wish Rasvai the best of luck in the program!

    ~UN Liason, Dr. Guy Velar.

 Nature of Restraints 1 - Warm Welcome

    Rasvai tried to ignore her twitches of discomfort from being observed as she climbed the final stretch of stairs. Pausing before the door to apartment five, she straightened the loose cloth draped around her waist. Such ridiculous human sensibilities. Wearing the false pelts was a suggestion¡ªone ignored by a majority of arxur¡ªbut it was clearly a subtle test of loyalty and obedience to the exchange.

    The arxur tapped the small panel beside the door with her claw. A chime rang from within. She''d memorized the entry code and the passkey was tucked away with her other documents. But for the human within¡¯s sake, she would announce herself instead of entering. Once again, her gaze slid over the railing and across the parking lot.

    Her escorts lingered by their vehicle, making small talk. They remained to ensure she stopped at the proper apartment¡ªas if the tracker locked around her ankle wasn¡¯t broadcasting her location with every step.

    For the next three months, Rasvai would live alongside her Human-Arxur exchange partner. It was a challenge she had resigned herself to. She would be eating her meals here, sleeping here, and spending time between vocational training here. Her station and duties were still being negotiated, but the arxur would follow whatever demands the exchange might make.

    Delivering results would earn a greater degree of freedom in human territories. Conditional citizenship. A place to live. A job. Which meant funds to sustain her. To feed herself without being beholden to merit and the favor of a regime.

    A difficult concept to wrap her head around. What besides food and shelter did these humans need?

    Even if she failed or was forced to withdraw from the second stage of the exchange, she¡¯d already passed muster with her empathy screenings. Returning to one of the processing stations would still leave her far better off than the arxur who were outright rejected. But she had every intention to emerge victorious, no matter the sacrifices it might require.

    Hopefully, the exchange would put her broadcasting experience to use. What little research she¡¯d done into humanity¡¯s networks showed the Dominion¡¯s tech was outdated at best. If not, she was strong and had grown up accustomed to long, painful drudgery. There were years of work left to recover from the cataclysmic bombings. Would humans even tolerate working alongside an arxur? Could her pride withstand being ordered around by a superior who was far weaker than her?

    Memories flashed, echoing with screams and overlapping scents. A bloodstained shape raked their claws across the¡ª

    Rasvai tensed, standing like a scaly statue, breathing slowly. Calm. Showing no outward sign of her defective thoughts, despite the sour note of bile in her throat.

    She swallowed and pushed the memory away. It was pathetic to get so worked up, especially over the past. It¡¯d been nothing. Her duty. Passionless labor. A simple task to manage a camera. Keep something in focus. Switch between different viewpoints as her superiors had ordered. Displaying expressions of scorn, support, glee, and fervor, whenever was appropriate.

    Years of footage captured, processed, packaged, and broadcast. Prepared like rations and delivered in gluttonous servings on behalf of Betterment.

    Rasvai growled and shook her head. She was exhausted, her nerves frayed by the long, stressful day of travel. Such thoughts were nothing but poor hunters, chasing easy prey and pouncing when she was at her weakest.

    The click of the door knocked the arxur from her baleful brooding.

    It opened, revealing a human female covered in a flowing green pelt. Her brown head fur was tied into a single long bundle. Veins snaked across her pale skin like soft blue waterways, forking and flowing along her neck and arms. Wafts of floral scent surrounded her, substantial enough to make the arxur snort quietly with distaste.

    Glass lenses were set over her intense yellow gaze, betraying the kind of genetic weakness that would see her culled or sterilized if she were an arxur.

    ¡°Hi Rasvai!¡± The human gave the alien a wide snarl of excitement.

    This was Callie. Her human exchange partner and roommate for the next three months.

    They had traded messages for weeks as part of the first stage of the exchange, matched up through responses to questionnaires, tests, and surveys. Though Rasvai was reticent compared to the human, their back-and-forth chats had qualified the pair for the second stage: shared habitation on Earth.

    Exchanging pictures and video messages should have prepared the arxur for such a simple encounter. She would greet her, give a ¡°handshake¡± or polite nod, and enter.

    Hesitation froze her in place.

    Pathetic.

    It was. Doubly so, considering that even if she wished her harm, the human was no threat. She was barely two-thirds Rasvai¡¯s height, unarmed, and looked about as tough as a sivkit. Despite that, the tight band of pressure around the arxur¡¯s ankle pulsed with each heavy thump of her heart as she stood immobile.

    The human took no notice of the arxur¡¯s tension. She threw her arms wide and let out a sound of jubilation. ¡°Ahhh! It¡¯s so awesome to finally meet face-to-face!¡± The human leapt forward and embraced the arxur.

    Callie laughed, having trouble reaching around Rasvai¡¯s scaly torso and thick arms. ¡°You¡¯re way bigger than I expected. No wonder the exchange ordered a custom bed.¡±

    Callie patted the arxur¡¯s side and released the hug. She noticed Rasvai¡¯s discomfort and grimaced. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯re probably not much of a hugger. My bad for getting touchy-feely right off the bat.¡± She stepped back inside. ¡°C¡¯mon in, check the place out! Hope all the travel wasn¡¯t too uncomfortable.¡± She nearly stubbed her toe on one of the scattered boxes stacked near the door.

    ¡°Ack! Sorry my stuff is piled everywhere out here. Wanted to let you snag whatever bedroom you preferred. I¡¯m not picky and everything¡¯s human standard. Whatever works for you is cool by me. Do you like getting some morning light, or are you more of a¡­um, Rasvai? You okay?¡±

    The arxur was still rooted in the doorway. ¡°I¡­hello, Callie,¡± Rasvai growled once she reoriented her thoughts and the human¡¯s barrage of words ended. She lurched forward in a clumsy nod, then turned that into dipping awkwardly beneath the doorframe to follow Callie inside the dwelling.

    The arxur turned to shut the door and cast one last glance toward her escorts. She halted again, biting back a curse. One of them, the driver, had their hand raised. Why? Were they demanding she come back?

    Worthless fucking defect. You¡¯ve already ruined this. They¡¯re going to drag you out. Cut open your skull. Probe around to find out why they couldn¡¯t train you properly, and then dump your carcass in a ditch to rot.

    Callie leaned out from behind the arxur and waved back at the chaperones. ¡°Thanks, drive safe! Condolences if you¡¯re headed back to the shuttle port; that northbound highway¡¯s a real pain in the ass!¡± Callie shouted across the parking area.

    The driver laughed and shouted back. ¡°Nah, last dropoff for the night; thanks though!¡± Both humans got into their vehicle and pulled away.

    Rasvai returned her attention to the apartment¡¯s interior. The central area was filled with flimsy-looking boxes and a few mismatched pieces of furniture. It made the single canvas bag slung over Rasvai¡¯s shoulder seem downright meager.

    ¡°Are you hungry? I¡¯m starving. I was thinking we should pick somewhere and¡ª¡± Focused on Rasvai, Callie tripped over another box and nearly fell. She caught herself and laughed, face flush. ¡°Ack, god dammit. Watch your step, sorry.¡±

    ¡°I was trying to read through the exchange¡¯s material beforehand, but I figured I¡¯d just ask you. Arxur can eat non-carnivore stuff, right? Or does it make you sick?¡±

    Rasvai continued gazing across the room. The common area featured a predictably luxurious spot to sit while viewing broadcasts, as well as a bookshelf. On the opposite side stood an open area covered in countertops intended to store and prepare rations. A stack of colorful pamphlets was piled on one end. Beyond the common area were more private chambers, presumably for sleeping and hygienic purposes. Similar enough to her prior arrangements.

    ¡°It depends. Some are poisonous. But I have no desire to chew any leaves,¡± Rasvai growled. She¡¯d thought their text conversations moved fast. Those were glacial compared to the pace of the human¡¯s nonstop blabbering.

    Callie nodded. ¡°Sure, sure, I figured salads were out. But what about spices and stuff? Sauces, oils, anything cooked with aromatics? Mmh, like garlic; have you tried garlic?¡±

    The arxur stared blankly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t knock it just because it¡¯s a plant. I dunno what kind of carnivore cooking supplies there are besides like, fat and grease. What do you usually use? Arxur don¡¯t just eat everything plain and raw, right?¡±

    The arxur struggled to absorb Callie¡¯s rapid-fire comments and questions. It was like being poked and jabbed over and over. She swallowed down her reflexive anger, sighing impatiently. ¡°I¡­do not wish to discuss the Dominion¡¯s rations. Cooking is a pointless formality anyway. Whatever the exchange provides will suffice.¡±

    She pushed inside the first door on the right. Beyond was a spacious room with a shuttered alcove against one wall. Storage intended for human pelts and their many, many possessions. She didn¡¯t bother looking in the other room, dropping her bag inside the doorway to mark her claim.

    ¡°Ah. Well, we don¡¯t really have any groceries yet. I just got here too and didn¡¯t want to miss you. There are some exchange-friendly places nearby though. I was looking at this one¡ª¡±

    The arxur growled. It took substantial effort not to lean back and simply shut the door in the human¡¯s face. Social interaction was tedious and exhausting to participate in. But it was a requirement for her new life.

    The demands of her screening, interviews, and interactions with Callie had substantially expanded Rasvai¡¯s tolerance for conversation. But in the past sixteen hours, she¡¯d been surrounded by short-tempered humans and arxur agitated by the rigors of travel.

    She¡¯d answered endless questions, filled out paperwork, and presented her documents for stamps and seals. She¡¯d been stared at and whispered about on shuttles and in waiting areas. She¡¯d reported in and made calls with her UN liaison regarding the exchange, and spent her time en route to the apartment being reminded about local restrictions and expectations by her escorts while they made ¡°small-talk.¡± By that point, she¡¯d have preferred sandpapering her scales than participating and had gotten by with grunts.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    And of course, someone had shouted she was a ¡°fucking Nazi baby-muncher¡± across a crowded gathering area. A significant berth was given to her at all times, as if physical contact would shred anyone who touched her into bloody chunks.

    While following her escorts through the shuttleport, someone had dumped a thick substance over the head of a different exchange member¡ªpurple paint, an obvious mimicry of thafki blood. ¡°Not so easy to wash off, is it!?¡± the human had shouted as they were hauled away by security.

    And finally, a pair of venlil had noticed the arxur hunched in the backseat. They¡¯d collapsed onto the ground and begun bleating hysterically as if Rasvai had their throats in her mouth. Her driver had apologized to her and complained about tinted windows not being standard.

    Rasvai had been too focused on the way the surrounding humans rushed to the prey¡¯s aid, attending and shielding them while directing looks of disgust and anger her way. As if she¡¯d done something besides sitting in stoic silence in the back of a vehicle.

    She was done being sociable.

    ¡°I have eaten already,¡± Rasvai lied. ¡°And I am¡­quite tired. I wish to sleep.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want anything better than airport food?¡± The arxur flicked her tail in sharp refusal. ¡°Well¡­okay. Um¡­your bed still needs putting together, though.¡± Callie pointed to a bundle of panels, metal braces, and a large rectangular mattress propped against the wall. ¡°If you want, you can relax on the couch for a little while I¡ª¡±

    Rasvai snapped her tail impatiently. ¡°Tomorrow. I need¡­I am tired.¡± She put her hand on the door but kept it open. ¡°The floor will do.¡±

    ¡°The floor? Oh c¡¯mon Rasvai, don¡¯t be¡­¡± The human¡¯s dismissive tone evaporated as she took in the monolith of muscle and scales in the doorway. Her tense jaw, her twitching tail, the claws gripping a thick leg in subtle fury, the narrowed red eyes. Callie¡¯s next words were more subdued.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m not your mom; you don¡¯t need me telling you what to do.¡± She clasped her hands behind her back. ¡°I¡¯ve had a bunch of roommates over the years; I want things to be comfortable for you. So¡­if you wanna switch rooms, or you need help with any stuff around the apartment, let me know.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ve got pretty thick skin. If you need some space, you want me to shut the hell up for a while or just need to ask something¡ªI dunno¡ªcontroversial about humans. I''m basically an open book.¡± She smiled. ¡°Okay?¡±

    ¡°Understood, Callie,¡± Rasvai hissed through her teeth. ¡°Tomorrow, then.¡± The arxur shut the door and locked it. She could tell Callie lingered on the other side. A soft sigh made it through the flimsy wood. Rasvai stood motionless in the gloom, listening to the quiet grunts and shuffles as Callie began carrying things through and across the hall.

    The arxur muttered, ¡°Not my mother? Obviously, you stupid human. She would have delighted in testing that comment about the thickness of your skin.¡± She imagined her mother looming from behind Callie, wrapping her claws around the human¡¯s throat and¡ª

    She tensed again, struggling to push such a thought deep, deep down. Breathing quietly. Evenly. Not showing any hint. Not closing her eyes. Letting the feelings crash over her like water, before draining away like blood down the drain.

    Callie passed by again. The soft steps on the carpet and swish of her clothing proved the bloodshed was nothing but Rasvai¡¯s monstrous imagination running wild. The pounding of the arxur¡¯s heart slowed.

    Opening the alcove¡¯s shutter revealed empty shelves and storage space for human garments, as she¡¯d expected. She searched the interior, running her claws along out-of-sight ridges and odd angles, and peering into the room¡¯s air vents. No sign of any monitoring devices. She was too exhausted to go tapping on the walls or sniff around for signs of human meddling. Tomorrow, then.

    Rasvai stripped the stupid modesty wrap off and curled up against the far wall, using her bag as a makeshift pillow.

    What¡¯s wrong with you? Tired from sitting around all day? Upset from being stared at? Pitiful. What are you, a feeble little hatchling again?

    Rasvai snarled to herself, unable to keep from releasing her thoughts aloud into the fittingly dark room. ¡°Disgusting defect. Pathetic coward. What a fucking disgrace to the Arxur.¡±

    She let out a miserable hiss as she fed her anger, using it to push the pathetic sentimentality back down where it belonged. ¡°This is beyond anything you deserve, you worthless traitor. It''s a miracle you¡¯re not squatting in some ruin or lying dead in a ditch where you belong.¡±

    The teeming mass of arxur defectors and their human overseers lingered in her mind. They¡¯d been reduced to a pack of cowards, defects, and deviants ripe for the culling claw. The crowds were probably thick with loyalists feeding intel and names of traitors back home. That or smugglers looking to make a profit and curry favor. No doubt the corruption in the integration systems was as thick as it ever was in the Dominion.

    Rejection from integration or exile from human space was practically a death sentence after all; surely the humans knew that? Especially now that the Arxur had been fractured so thoroughly.

    Isif¡¯s Arxur Coalition, Usliff¡¯s Seekers of The True Hunt, the Prophet-Decendant¡¯s fanatical Remnants. Not to mention the territory-grabbing warlords, mercenaries, and pirates roaming the fringes. All fighting for power, control, and survival while the rest of the galaxy watched on and threatened an extermination campaign. As if the Arxur had spontaneously gone mad. As if the prey didn¡¯t have anything to do with the Dominion¡¯s shattered unity.

    It was impressive. For all their vocal disgust of the practice of culling, the humans were weeding out the undesirables in their own, cunning way. A superior, more subtle form of Betterment. One that made the survivors pledge themselves to service out of gratitude and allowed them to gorge themselves like never before.

    No need for lengthy detainment in Betterment¡¯s facilities. All it took was a scan paired with questions and images that triggered the desired reactions. A test that couldn¡¯t be faked, tricked, or beaten. A way for humans to save the good, and cull the bad.

    The same techniques the humans used to reveal ¡°empathetic tendencies¡± would¡¯ve been a miraculous boon for unveiling ¡°defects¡± only a year ago. A glance through human, arxur, and prey history told a familiar story: this was simply the newest round of the same game played for eons. And as all three had proven, if you didn¡¯t like what history showed, you could simply bury it in the same graves as the losing side.

    Rasvai¡¯s stomach twisted with hunger. The aching emptiness was an all-too-familiar reminder that no matter where she ran, the agonizing rot in her core would remain. Curled up in solitude and silence, her exhaustion took its toll and drew her into a restless sleep.

    Scum. Defect. Liar. Deviant. Disgrace. Traitor. Betterment agents hissed the endless refrain in her ears. Mother joined in, her voice filled with twice the disgust.

    The drain gurgled, choked with blood. A cold cascade washed the flow of crimson off Rasvai¡¯s shuddering claws. Hollow, red eyes peered back from the mirror as she whispered the truth to herself, her serrated maw flashing in the low light between her strangled sobs.

    We¡¯re all nothing but disgusting monsters.

    <hr>

    Callie sighed as she unloaded another box. She really needed to get rid of some of this baggage.

    She¡¯d arranged her furniture how she liked, her bed was made, and most of her clothes organized. Books and decorations shared space on her shelves, and all her work material was stacked up on her desk for when she started again in a few days.

    The human leaned out to regard the silent door across the hall.

    Callie wanted to step up and knock. Offer her company, try to put some of the arxur¡¯s worries to rest. Rasvai wasn¡¯t some detainee or prisoner, she should sleep on the couch at least. It was arxur-sized for a reason. Did she even have a blanket in there?

    But Callie knew better than to be a busybody¡ªespecially to a big, cranky alien sleeping off the troubles of her first day on Earth. She had to respect Rasvai¡¯s choices. The arxur was a big girl. She could sleep on the floor if she felt like it. Instead of prying, Callie headed into the living room and flopped lengthwise onto their couch.

    She fished the small, covert panic signal from around her neck. All she had to do was yank hard and detach the chain to activate it. Two minutes later, a pair of exchange security would be kicking down doors to retrieve her. Like knights rescuing a damsel from some bloodthirsty dragon, but with tasers and guns instead of swords.

    No one who expected a mauling joined the Arxur-Human exchange, but there had still been incidents. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like a very nice thing to do to anyone,¡± she muttered. ¡°If she has some kind of episode, though¡­poor Varliss. Hope he¡¯s doing okay.¡±

    Careful not to accidentally trigger the panic signal¡ªnow wouldn¡¯t that add some excitement to Rasvai¡¯s first day¡ªCallie slipped the necklace off. She set it on the side table, leaned back on their couch, and blew out a long breath.

    It was funny; the arxur had been almost exactly what she¡¯d expected given their exchanges and the constant media coverage. Depending on which outlet you listened to, ¡°The Arxur Exodus,¡± ¡°Predator Invasion,¡± or ¡°Grey Tide¡± was all anyone could talk about.

    Huge, intimidating, dangerous, tough, alien? Check. Awkward, impatient, abrasive, closed-off? Definitely. But frozen in shock, completely flustered after a hug?

    That had been unexpected. And kinda cute.

    Callie smacked herself. ¡°Diplomatic exchange program. Not a dating app. Don¡¯t be creepy,¡± She muttered, pressing her palms against her eyes.

    ¡°Thank God she wasn¡¯t naked. Seriously, why are all the aliens naked? How does everyone else just pretend not to care?¡± She ranted quietly at the ceiling. ¡°Fur covers a lot, but nudist lizards run a media empire! Does no one get embarrassed?¡±

    ¡°They even have clothes, but they give us the side-eye for not letting it all hang out like cavemen. ¡®Wearing pelts.¡¯ Like human clothes aren¡¯t almost universally made of natural fibers and synthetic blends.¡± She massaged her forehead. ¡°Must¡¯ve been some real weirdos calling the shots back in the day.¡±

    Callie chuckled and put on a suitably perverse voice, breathing through her mouth as she mumbled. ¡°Oh um, actually, wearing clothes is considered predatory. So we have to be naked all the time from now on. Yeah, the scientists say so. Why? Um¡­if you¡¯re not naked, it makes you crave flesh. Everyone should probably strip like, right now.¡±

    Callie glanced again at Rasvai¡¯s door, hoping her rambling wasn¡¯t audible beyond it. ¡°Pants and underwear flying, alien fashion from every species flung all over the streets. Then everyone starts hardcore makin'' out.¡± She snorted. ¡°Bet the UN is keeping that section of The Archives to themselves. Hell of a bargaining chip.¡±

    Her stomach growled. She sighed. She¡¯d held off on anything since lunch, preparing for a massive welcome feast. What kind of arxur didn¡¯t have an appetite?

    That all-you-can-eat BBQ place she¡¯d picked out would¡¯ve been perfect. Their website featured a picture of a quartet of gleeful arxur and a trio of humans. The seven of them hunched with exaggerated menace over the equivalent of about half a cow. Meat Tornado BBQ knew exactly who their target customers were. Way to get in on the ground floor.

    ¡°Give it a few weeks and I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll be regulars.¡± Callie got out her phone and pulled up the delivery menu for an exchange-approved Italian restaurant instead. ¡°Cooking is a pointless formality my ass. Welcome to Earth; we¡¯re gonna knock those alien taste buds right back into orbit.¡±

    A big plate of bolognese sounded perfect, and some garlic bread too. Arxur-Style Pancetta Ragu? That seemed Rasvai¡¯s speed.

    No matter what she¡¯d said about not being hungry, Callie was certain the arxur would come slinking out of her room to drool over something that looked that good. Thick pork belly, drizzled with sauce, topped with chunks of¡ªCallie gulped.

    Maybe she¡¯d sneak a bite or two herself, first. Ought to make sure it wasn¡¯t poisoned or anything, right?

 Nature of Restraints 2 - Vocation Vexation

    ¡°Now, that sort of thing is usually more of a production assistant¡¯s duty than a technician¡¯s. But I think you¡¯ll benefit from some general responsibilities while you get accustomed to your role. Now this next set has a few quirks given the¡ªHello Angela! Have you met Rasvai? She¡¯s our new broadcast technician. Yes, she¡¯ll be with us while¡ª¡±

    The speaker was an underfed-looking male who seemed well past his prime. He had welcomed Rasvai as she arrived and introduced himself as Mr. Granger. As a member of the Executive Production Board for the broadcasting network, he was an authority figure with broad influence across the entire facility.

    Rasvai had felt a minuscule twinge of pride that someone so high in the chain of command had seen fit to attend her. Mr. Granger had explained he would personally see to her tour of the premises. He had escorted the arxur inside and spoken about their day-to-day operations. Helped her retrieve her ID badge. Explained the catalog of ¡°shows¡± that were produced and distributed here.

    In fact, he had barely stopped speaking since he met her¡­two and a half hours ago.

    Like most human males in positions of civilian authority, Mr Granger wore a colorful, patterned flap of fabric around his neck. The urge to wordlessly reach out, grab the makeshift noose, and use it to choke his constant rambling off at its source entered the arxur¡¯s mind for what had to be the hundredth time. He probably wouldn¡¯t even stop while unconscious.

    His endless chattering and the interactions it demanded of her pounded across her like a barrage of fists. Only it was her patience leaking away instead of blood.

    Mostly she nodded, grunted, or replied with one or three-word answers if she had to. Whenever her superior laughed, it reminded her to release a hissing exhale of hollow mirth too. At least the noise seemed to unsettle most of the humans she met¡ªuseful to discourage too much prattle.

    But even silence had a cost. Human conversations demanded unnatural gestures instead of speech. It took constant constant effort to maintain favor.

    She stood more upright than felt natural in an attempt not to look overly predatory. She inclined her head when introduced to others, baring the back of her neck in a way that went against every instinct she had. She bobbed her head or shook it to acknowledge things said to her. Ratcheted up her shoulders to ¡°shrug¡± when unsure.

    She allowed humans to clasp her hand and jostle it if they wished (most were too intimidated by her to touch her). She was expected to meet their eyes while speaking¡ªbut not for too long¡ªand to slot each face and position into the increasingly jumbled hierarchy of roles and titles introduced to her in a contextless slurry.

    Now she struggled to keep her tail from developing the same erratic twitch that had settled in her eye. Not that it would matter. So few humans understood tail language¡ªlet alone what the Arxur used¡ªthey probably wouldn¡¯t even notice. It was basically dead weight.

    Maybe you should cut it off? You¡¯re no True Arxur, after all. Might help trick the humans into believing you¡¯ll be loyal. Pathetic traitor.

    Rasvai¡¯s gaze flicked back down to her lanyard. The ID card against her scaled chest featured the broadcasting station¡¯s logo. Her portrait, name, and role were displayed, proving she wasn¡¯t some random intruder who¡¯d wandered in.

    Based on the security officers'' reactions when she¡¯d arrived to claim it, she wouldn¡¯t have been challenged with or without such documentation. How did such pathetic excuses for guards expect to maintain their territory, anyway? Cowering like¡­

    Such stupid, arrogant thoughts quickly expired. She was underestimating the humans. She knew firsthand all it took was one bullet to the skull to kill even the most desperate, vicious, and enraged arxur.

    The humans had admitted to tearing Chief Hunter Shaza to pieces, after all. Revenge for their treatment during that scuffle over Sillis. But no one liked Shaza¡­so no one cared.

    Pathetic sentiment. You stupid defect. It''s no worse than she¡¯d get from any challenger. Even the humans are truer Arxur than you.

    The arxur¡¯s lanyard held an additional laminated card alongside her ID. Another demand from the exchange she resigned herself to. It was annoyingly bright green; the color of fresh cattle feed. She couldn¡¯t decide which side of the damning leaf was worse.

    Hello! My name is Rasvai. I¡¯m from the Human-Arxur exchange program. Please direct any questions or concerns about my exchange-sponsored integration on Earth to the North American branch of the Human-Arxur Advocacy group. My emergency contact is Callie Strobel, who can be reached at¡ª

    The translators could shift the words all they wanted. She knew what the human text meant.

    ¡°I¡¯m a worthless waste of scales that deserved to be culled. But I¡¯m such a spineless coward that I fled to throw myself at humanity¡¯s feet instead. Ask my handlers, I¡¯ll take whatever abuse you give me in exchange for your scraps!¡±

    On the opposite side was a list of those sneaky little tests the exchange obsessed over.

    Things like: Confused? Ask someone for help; translators aren¡¯t perfect! And: Feeling a little overwhelmed? Take a break¡ªa few deep breaths never hurt! And finally: Don¡¯t be a stranger! Your partner or liaison is only a call away.

    Any arxur who succumbed to such feeble tricks might as well be begging to be thrown back where they came from. False mercies were nothing new. They could fool the weak-willed and desperate, but not her. As if she¡¯d ever be stupid enough to volunteer her defectiveness or failure.

    That was one mistake she would never, ever repeat.

    They came to a stop again and Mr. Granger¡¯s babbling continued. It had been reduced to an indistinct thrum in her ears as if she were underwater.

    Another human was being presented for introduction, hand hesitantly outstretched. No noose-flap, showing obvious signs of nerves, stinking of sweat. He must be some peon relegated to hard labor. Mr. Granger commanded a vast number, comparable to the [Virtuous Merit Holder of Civilian Authority] of Broadcasting Rasvai had occasionally reported to in her old life.

    ¡°Hey uh¡­I¡¯m Mike. Glad to meet you, Miss Rasvai. Oh er, sorry. It''s just Rasvai, huh? Haha.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± The arxur stoically took his hand, carefully squeezed her six clawed digits around it, and gave a halfhearted shake that rattled his whole arm. Rasvai turned to follow a shockingly silent Mr. Granger down the hall again. Both humans paused and stared at her.

    ¡°Um¡­Rasvai?¡± Mike asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Headed this way, actually. Gonna check out the equipment room before lunch. That right, Andy?¡± He directed the question toward Mr. Granger.

    ¡°I¡­of course,¡± the arxur said, reorienting herself. She took care not to whip the humans with her tail as she turned. Mr. Granger patted her on the arm and she tensed. She knew the feeble strikes were some human gesture, not a challenge. She still had to clamp down the urge to whirl and snarl at him in retaliation.

    Mr. Granger chuckled, ¡°So sorry, Rasvai. You¡¯ve been very patient with me. I wanted everyone to get a chance to meet our company¡¯s first arxur employee with me right beside to field any questions.¡±

    ¡°This industry can be fast-paced, and it¡¯s always a bit of a juggling act. Only fair you see the equipment you¡¯ll be working on under Mike without any of that pressure. Especially given your nonstandard training. But the exchange feels confident you¡¯ll adapt quickly, and I certainly share the same outlook!¡±

    A few key words snapped the arxur out of the mire of banal sociability dulling her thoughts.

    Working under¡ªthis peon was her superior? She fought back a frustrated grumble. Why did humans bother wearing all these pelts and distracting baubles if they didn¡¯t properly convey one¡¯s status?

    Rasvai dipped her head and shoulders, back twinging from the effort of mirroring the humans¡¯ gestures again and again. She kept her tail especially still to appear meek and civil. ¡°Of course, sir. I understand your time is valuable. I will perform my tasks as¡­M-Mike directs,¡± she said, nearly slipping back into using habitual titles. No doubt these humans would react as poorly as her screening interviewers to explanations of the arxur broadcasting hierarchy.

    Mr. Granger snarled thinly. ¡°If you have any concerns related to your position regarding the exchange, drop by my office or give me a call. We can conference with your Advocate or liaison and chat about any issues that crop up. However, no need to be shy about your duties; Mike is an expert technician. He¡¯s been at the network nearly as long as I have!¡±

    Mike shrugged. ¡°Yeah well, helps that all the good telecom folks got snapped up by the UN for something or other during the war. I just keep getting raises to stick around.¡± He snarled. ¡°What can I say; I know where all the bodies are buried.¡±

    The two humans parted after a shared laugh. Rasvai followed behind Mike as ordered, working through the translated intent of what he¡¯d said. She wondered why the humans casually used the phrase [I am an invaluable asset] to imply murderous blackmail¡­yet seemed to react so poorly when the actual practice was brought up. She dragged her attention back onto Mike as he began speaking.

    ¡°So, we have 2 main equipment rooms¡ªmost of the stuff not in those is left secure on sets or in transit to remote studios. Once it''s out of your hands, it''s not your responsibility. The room¡¯s locked for a reason, so don¡¯t prop the door while you¡¯re moving stuff out. Your badge will let you in and we use an RFID program to maintain the equipment logs. Keeps any random thief from running off with a van load of equipment.¡±

    He pulled a face at the arxur. ¡°Which uh, that did happen a few years back. Some people, huh?¡± He pressed his ID to the panel and opened the door after a heavy click.

    Rasvai tensed. Despite everything, she still half-expected to see the familiar bloodstained concrete. The harsh lighting and the cable runs to keep blood from fouling her equipment. The shackles bolted into the wall and floor.

    She ducked inside after Mike and silently exhaled, flicking her tail. It really was only a storage room.

    The climate-controlled space was stacked with cases. A loose, frayed carpet covered the floor. Thick cables were neatly arranged in bins, and pieces of equipment adorned spots labeled with tape. Large shrouds of dark cloth and odd, reflective panels were stacked against one wall, sharing space with tripods and stepladders. A long table and workspace featured a computer display, bits of electronics, and small tools scattered nearby.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be nice to have someone else to help lug around equipment,¡± Mike said as he strode around the table and sank into a chair. He indicated the seat across from him. ¡°There was a bit of turnover for the position. Lotta graduates having trouble after the¡­bombings.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Anyway, you got the grand tour from the head honcho. That drum up any questions so far?¡±

    ¡°No, Mentor Mike,¡± the arxur hissed. She settled awkwardly onto a chair, feeling it creaking under her weight, her thick tail pressed uncomfortably tight against the back.

    ¡°Oh uh, just Mike is fine. I¡¯m the Senior Broadcasting Tech, but that¡¯s only for pounding my chest around pushy producers.¡± He waved his hand as if swatting away some irritating insect. He checked the time on a small device on his wrist. ¡°It¡¯s about lunch. You uh¡­bring in any food?¡±

    The arxur indicated a negative with her tail. She scanned the large shelves and counters of stacked equipment. Being away from the bustle, the stares, and the constant talking allowed her to collect herself slightly. If her duties meant time alone in this room, perhaps she would survive after all.

    ¡°Rasvai?¡±

    She realized she¡¯d reverted to Arxur mannerisms out of exhaustion. She shook her head slowly. ¡°No. I did not bring any rations.¡±

    ¡°Oh uh¡­sweet! I was kinda hoping to pick up something to welcome you but I uh¡­didn¡¯t really know what you¡¯d like. Dietary restrictions and all. The usual pizza order is probably out.¡± He chuckled.

    Why did all the humans constantly ask her about food? The UN had accused the Dominion of being ration-obsessed, but humans were just as guilty. All around her people were constantly eating and drinking. Snacking, slurping, chewing. It was a wild feeding frenzy with no discipline whatsoever.

    ¡°No need,¡± she grunted. ¡°I am not hungry.¡± Her stomach roared in protest, but that was something every arxur learned to ignore.

    ¡°O-oh? Okay. We¡¯ll take a rain check, then.¡± Mike cleared his throat, and the pair stewed in the awkward silence that followed.

    To the arxur, it was a blissful relief. A return to some fraction of solitude after hours of being bombarded with words, looks, questions, and alien ideas. At least Callie had the sense to leave alone for more than¡ª

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°So do you um¡­have any kids?¡± Mike asked.

    Rasvai hissed out a quiet sigh. She tackled the instinct to roar at the pathetic human to shut up. To mind his own fucking business and leave her in peace for a single, solitary breath unless he wanted her to end his for good.

    Once she had the urges clasped in her mental claws, she twisted them into a writhing ball¡­and swallowed them.

    ¡°I do not have any offspring,¡± she said, red eyes opening again. Placid. Calm. Highly social. Not betraying the blazing spark of ire that few arxur¡ªand even fewer humans¡ªcould detect.

    Because it didn¡¯t matter how she felt about anything.

    This was the only chance she had left to survive.

    <hr>

    Rasvai stormed through the apartment door, practically trembling with barely contained fury. After that single moment of refuge in the equipment room, her day had only worsened.

    It was one thing to be annoyed by some incompetent fool who she¡ªin any sensible world¡ªwould have knocked into line. To understand she was superior, but bound by the dictates of humanity not to prove it. She could be content enough as a mere servant.

    But it was another situation entirely to be utterly shamed by her supposed strengths.

    What kind of human who ¡°knew where the bodies were buried¡± took abuse from countless demanding, impatient challengers? He was a peon with the talents of a Prophet. It was clear that Mike was essential to nearly every broadcast, but he made no effort to claim any rightful ascendance!

    He became a different person. Confident. Commanding. His orders made her think her translator had shorted out, taking a chunk of her brain with it. He bewildered her with jargon and piece after piece of specialized technology, explaining concepts she could barely conceive of in rapid-fire bursts.

    Submenus, tweaks, attachments, adaptors, cables, settings, and data were all deployed at his whim. His contributions resulted in a constant flow of solutions to problems and the rapid completion of whatever task he pursued. Cameras, drones, and the footage within were laid bare before him like a butcher skinning a prime piece of prey for a banquet.

    She hated him, hated how completely inferior he made her feel. How he¡¯d pulled the camera she¡¯d struggled with all day from her hands and ruined everything she¡¯d done, claiming to have fixed some kind of error. Pushing her back during each crisis she attempted to fix, flooding her with terms and requests she didn¡¯t understand as he tried to teach her. Asking her to relay things from others, to talk and ask questions, make requests, and send demands on his behalf like she was some kind of glorified signal relay.

    And worst of all was the [research-based work tasks continued after returning home] he had assigned her. A binder of thick technical manuals for everything from camera equipment to explanations of data formats. Printed out with some stinging implication that she was probably too stupid to access the same information digitally.

    He thinks you¡¯re a mindless savage. A defective slave. It''s all for appearance. You¡¯re nothing but a hunting trophy. The humans are showing off their primitive predator pets. Regressed like animals to worshiping their claws and teeth. Your culture is a pathetic husk, your technology nothing but stolen scraps from the prey. You¡¯re nothing to them. Nothing to the Dominion. A pawn. Labor. Breeding sto¡ª

    The arxur¡¯s head snapped up in response to motion in her periphery, pupils constricting with violent focus.

    They landed on Callie and seemed to pin her in place.

    ¡°H-heeeya there, roomie.¡± The human waved meekly from her seat. ¡°Welcome home,¡± she said through a mouthful of something from a crinkly bag at her side.

    The human was curled up on the large seat in the common area, startled into silence by the arxur¡¯s sudden entrance and fuming. Rasvai rose from a combative hunch. She released a slow hiss and forced herself to recapture some sliver of the outward stoicism she had maintained all day.

    Waves of furious tension continued to roll off her body, her lashing tail clearly expressing her lack of interest in conversing. So of course, Callie asked, ¡°How was your first day?¡±

    ¡°It was¡­acceptable,¡± Rasvai growled, half-tearing the lanyard off her neck and dropping it with distaste onto the counter. She walked past the broad seat holding Callie and headed for her room.

    ¡°H-hey, wait. Wanna¡­hang out? Maybe eat something and chat a little?¡± The human patted the couch, indicating the cushion beside her.

    The arxur hesitated. There¡¯d been a message from Callie on her exchange-provided device when she¡¯d woken, but the disruption to her sleep cycles from traveling had left her too exhausted to care much. Not that she usually bothered to check anyway. No matter when she looked, there was always some unread message from the human.

    But this morning, she¡¯d done nothing but splash some water on her face and claws, drape one of the stupid modesty wraps around her waist, and summon exchange-provided transportation to attend her infuriating vocational training.

    Ironically, her driver was the only human today who hadn¡¯t tried to speak with her. Why couldn¡¯t she have been paired up with them for this exchange?

    ¡°Callie. I have spent all day¡­talking. Struggling to learn¡­so many things. I¡­I don¡¯t¡­¡± she hissed out a sigh and clicked her jaws in frustration. ¡°Speak with me tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Alright. You¡¯re probably still pretty jet-lagged too, huh? Well¡­at least have something to eat. I¡¯m a little worried you¡¯re starving yourself. My exchange partner before you had¡­trouble with that.¡±

    The arxur scoffed. ¡°Two days is hardly long to go unfed. But fine. Did the exchange deliver rations?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, they¡­¡± Callie blinked. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten in two days? Well no wonder you¡¯re cranky, Rasvai. What about the pancetta in the fridge? You didn¡¯t see my message this morning?¡±

    ¡°The what? Pork? As I said, whatever meat they provide is acceptable.¡±

    Callie sighed as she stood up. Something about her demeanor had suddenly shifted. ¡°Okay. I was willing to suck up getting blown off about your welcome dinner. But lying about having eaten at all is different.¡±

    Rasvai paused, eyes snapping to the human as she realized her mistake.

    ¡°You said you ate last night. Now you say you haven¡¯t eaten in days? Why not? Are you¡­embarrassed about getting food? If the exchange refused to feed you while you were traveling, that¡¯s not okay. We need to tell someone about that. And your workplace legally has to let you have a meal break, so if they¡¯re not¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, they offered. Mike was¡ªI am not some glutton!¡± Rasvai said, anger creeping into her voice. She said she didn¡¯t want to talk. Why couldn¡¯t the humans just leave her alone? ¡°I do not need humans shoveling meat down my throat. I will eat when I decide to. Understand?¡±

    ¡°W-what? Are you skipping meals on purpose? I don¡¯t¡­please tell me what¡¯s going on, Rasvai. I¡¯m your exchange partner. I just want to understand. You can¡ª¡±

    The arxur growled. Her patience was drawing dangerously thin. She couldn¡¯t explain. Not without dredging up¡­everything. And she absolutely couldn¡¯t allow that.

    Rasvai snorted. ¡°I¡­would like to invoke your offer. Shut up. Or was that a lie?¡± She managed to choke back some degree of her hissing malice.

    Callie pursed her lips and folded her arms. She opened her mouth with a glare, eyes scouring across the arxur¡¯s face. Then the human paused, unfolded her arms, and moved them in a strange, sinuous gesture that accompanied a deep breath in and out.

    ¡°Okay.¡±

    Callie stepped past the glowering arxur, opened the fridge, and retrieved the untouched container within. She held it out to Rasvai. ¡°Please eat. This is exchange-approved. Pancetta is fatty pork belly. Nothing sapient. It won¡¯t be as good cold, but I respect that you¡¯re not in a ¡®learning about the microwave¡¯ mood.¡±

    The arxur accepted the bundle only after a staredown with the stubborn human. Her eyes flicked away from Callie¡¯s intense gaze to the flimsy package in her claws. Her nostrils flared as a rush of rich scents invaded them, muted by the chill. She swallowed the instinctual rush of saliva it triggered.

    Callie took another deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry that I¡¯m annoying you. I¡¯m sorry you had a tough first day. Please let me know when you feel up to talking again.¡± She moved back to her prior seat without another word and turned the large screen on again.

    Pride prickling at being ordered around by the human but all too willing to accept Callie¡¯s terms, the arxur grunted in response. She entered her chambers, shut the door behind her, and locked it. She closed her eyes, finally able to drink in the soothing darkness and silence.

    Alone.

    She seized each troublesome thought that threatened to spill from her defective mind. Her burdens. Her disappointments. Her regrets. Her misery. Her anger. Her guilt. As always, she balled them up, stuffed them into her mouth, and swallowed them, no matter how extreme the effort.

    Unfortunately, the bleak, black, pit she tossed such thoughts down seemed fuller than ever.

    Reopening her eyes, she discovered a piece of furniture in the room that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    Her bedding. Not only had Callie assembled it, but she had also neatly arranged a set of coverings across it. Every bit of fabric was tucked so tightly into place that it felt mildly treacherous to disturb.

    At the foot of the bed was a large box with colorful adornments. It wasn¡¯t clear if this was something from Callie or the exchange.

    ¡°Perfect. Even more trials and tests to sort through,¡± the arxur spat. She took a seat on the edge of the bed¡­and then suddenly found herself eagerly reclined. A soft sigh of pleasure escaped her jaws as she sank gently into the surface. It firmly supported her back, easing much of the tension she¡¯d built up through the day.

    The arxur let out a quiet groan of amazement, stretching out her dangling legs, splaying her toes. Her back popped gently, tail shuddering as she worked her ridges deeper into the cradling cushion.

    The interchangeable, foam-lined bunks aboard the processing station had served adequately for sleep. For some, they were even an upgrade from the thin comforts offered by the Dominion. But this¡­

    The sensation against her scales was unreal. How did the humans make bedding so soft? Newborn venlil wool? This was the kind of fabric reserved for ceremonial garb on Wriss. The Prophet-Descendant or members of his inner circle might enjoy such a luxury.

    Only her ravenous appetite and the fact she was holding a set of rations in her claws kept her from crawling up and drifting off completely. Not wanting to taint the bedding with blood or lingering scents, she rose again, eyes already sagging. She slid downward onto her haunches, back pressed against the bed frame. She fiddled with the flimsy container¡¯s flaps, before simply jabbing her way inside.

    It was a sizable portion. Enough to banish much of her appetite.

    She lifted one of the plump medallions of fatty meat. It had been lightly charred, and time sitting in the refrigerator had dried some of the moisture from it. She sniffed it, swallowing the deluge of strange scents from the reddish coating and the cold flesh. It made her stomach churn eagerly. She tossed it in her mouth and chewed.

    And every ounce of her self-control abandoned her.

    The arxur buried her snout in the container and bolted pieces down in a desperate frenzy of gnashing and swallowing. Her tongue was bathed in flavors she¡¯d never imagined¡ªsomething beyond the rich meat itself had almost been injected into it. It was something more, fuller and better than simple rations meant to stave off hunger or drum up loyalty. This was¡­she didn¡¯t even know if she wanted to taint something so wonderful with Arxur words.

    Thirty seconds later, she was licking the interior of the empty package and gathering whatever morsels remained, lapping tiny remnants and smears of sauce off her claws and face. Swallowing. Panting.

    Gentle tingles of satisfaction and relief rolled down her spine, trickling to the very tip of her tail.

    The same tail that was jerking and lurching in a way she had forgotten it even could. It expressed something that only ever invited punishment, jealousy, anger, or dangerous questions¡ªbut she found she couldn¡¯t stop herself.

    The arxur¡¯s sweeping tail struck the box atop the bed and knocked it to the ground with a dull thud.

    As she went to shove it under her bedding and deal with it later, she paused. An envelope with her name was attached to the exterior. Given it was the same name scrawled on the ration container¡¯s flaps, it seemed to be Callie¡¯s handwriting.

    They already had so many ways to communicate. So¡­why would Callie write her a physical message and hide it in her chambers without mentioning it?

    Delaying such a message had already caused trouble. Before her rational mind could protest with worries about some trap or trick, she flicked the envelope from its moorings and sliced it open with a claw.

    Inside was a flimsy fold of paper that displayed an illustration.

    It featured a predatory reptilian animal in a wavy, blue body of water. A familiar creature. One Arxur were compared to insultingly often.

    The animal wore an ill-fitted pair of dark eyeshields that hid its gaze, an odd human garment atop its head, held a colorful drinking vessel in one paw, and appeared to be draped awkwardly atop some kind of floating cushion.

    Its mouth was open, displaying a crude depiction of sharp teeth. A branching line of color extended from its jaws to imply utterance, leading inside the folded section.

    Rasvai opened the paper flap.

    Within, a mass of the toothy creatures were in countless positions of leisure and relaxation, occupying a vast territory alongside and within the water. Their serrated jaws were universally curved into gleeful snarls.

    ¡°Welcome! Come on in, we don¡¯t bite!¡±

    Below the printed words were less tidy ones, handwritten in dark ink.

    Welcome to the party, Rasvai!

    Unfortunately, there aren¡¯t many beaches around here and we get more snow than we know what to do with.

    But I¡¯ll take any excuse I get to snuggle up with a good book!

    So come rain or shine, here¡¯s something from me to you.

    Kick back, relax, and enjoy yourself.

    I promise we humans don¡¯t bite much, either.

    ~Callie

    The arxur stared at the illustration, then set it silently aside. She began clawing strips of the flimsy paper away from the box. Splitting and severing the tape sealing it shut, she revealed a thick, soft bundle of fabric inside. A blanket. The blue material was a deep shade the color of dusk. Rasvai lifted it from the box and held it loosely in her claws.

    What a pathetic tribute. What sane arxur would accept this garbage? You¡¯re not some weak, shivering cattle mewling for warmth. It¡¯s worthless.

    You¡¯re a predator. A monster. You don¡¯t deserve this. You have claws, teeth, and scales. By the time you¡¯re gone from here, it¡¯ll be nothing but tatters.

    Yes. This was surely another nefarious human manipulation tactic. An insult. A test. A trick. A¡­a¡­

    Rasvai closed her eyes and squeezed the bundle of worthless, defective softness against her chest. The arxur¡¯s tail resumed the same motion from moments before.

    A wordless expression of simple, shameless joy.

 Nature of Restraints 3 - Relaxational Hazard

    Rasvai stepped around the long, cushioned seat that dominated the apartment''s common space.

    The daylight had faded and Callie had only turned on a small lamp in the corner to combat the darkness. The arxur loomed as a massive, shadowy silhouette against the soft pool of light. In her opinion, the dim lighting made the place seem much more comfortable.

    "Hey," Callie said, raising a hand. The arxur grunted in reply.

    Rasvai had mulled things over for nearly an hour, pitting her desire for sleep against the disquiet of her thoughts. She wanted to leave the pushy human in silence for as long as she could. Callie might be angry, but who cared? She was sick of being obedient to whoever held her life in their hands.

    But instead of feeling prideful and superior that she''d gotten the human to submit to her demands¡ªeven offer her tribute¡ªshe felt worse. The misery and guilt had grown until she had no chance of brushing it aside. Why? She''d pushed down far worse things in the past. Why was this keeping her from sleeping?

    Worthless defective. Sentimental scum. You''ll never change.

    Some vital chunk of her defective brain must have finally snapped. No matter how much she tried to pick apart the nefarious purpose behind the message in the envelope and the soft blanket¡ªthe humans'' plans made no sense.

    How would such useless things indebt her to the human? What would Callie demand of her in return? Why did Callie think she wanted a stupid flap of paper covered in insulting depictions of predators and¡­stupid words? A soft little bundle of cloth? Did Callie think that would buy her loyalty? She should just stuff them into the trash and forget all about it.

    So why didn''t she?

    A True Arxur would.

    Rasvai eyed the human occupying the apartment''s common space. Callie had turned off the broadcast and shifted slightly, directing her full attention toward the arxur. The human was still silent, but her lips curled up when Rasvai''s gaze met hers. Not a snarl¡ªthe challenge or threat she was so used to¡ªbut the soft shifting of the lips so common in humans.

    Callie gestured at the opposite end of the couch. It was a clear invitation for the arxur to join her.

    Rasvai hesitated, then sat. Once again she was ambushed by luxurious comfort as the cushions enveloped her. She leaned back, resting her neck against the crest of the cushions, her eyes closing as she allowed some of the tension to leak from her body again. She sighed quietly.

    "I¡­would like to talk now," the arxur eventually grumbled. She opened her eyes and sat up, hunching forward so she wouldn''t give in to the softness again.

    "Sure," Callie said.

    "You were right. I was hungry. Very hungry. It made me¡­quarrelsome. Impatient. Angry.¡± The arxur hissed. "And enduring the demands of my new superiors drained me of all patience." She pondered for a moment and then growled. "Avoiding social contact will only cause trouble. But more than that, I¡­I hate lies. Lying to you was a mistake, Callie.¡±

    Callie smiled. ¡°It''s okay. I''m sorry I got so pushy about personal stuff. This is all such a huge change. I should''ve given you at least a week to acclimate properly." They shared a moment of silence.  "Um¡­how was the pancetta? They have other stuff too, if you didn''t like it."

    Rasvai licked her chops again, swallowing the wave of saliva that filled her mouth. "It was¡­delicious. I''ve never eaten¡­anything like it."

    "I''m glad you liked it." The conversation stalled once again. Callie cleared her throat

    "Rasvai, I''m just excited to have you living with me. Like¡­you¡¯re here. An alien. A few years ago, aliens were¡­ theoretical. Imaginary. Sci-fi. Metaphors for imperialism or existential dread or¡­whatever.¡± She rolled her eyes and waved a hand.

    ¡°And now I have an arxur roommate. How cool is that?¡± She grinned. Then her expression sombered a bit. ¡°I mean¡­I know it''s not about me. Everyone''s heard about the Dominion. The horror stories about the raids¡ªthe cattle and cruelty. It''s almost unimaginable."

    "But for so many of you, Dominion life was probably just this¡­awful struggle for survival. I can''t imagine enduring all that misery. And then you find out it was nothing but mass manipulation and power games." Callie sighed. "None of you should go to bed hungry ever again. So¡­why were you starving yourself, Rasvai?"

    Rasvai hesitated. Revealing her perspective probably wouldn''t invite punishment. Other arxur had already shared many of the same concerns¡ªthough few were as distrusting of their new situation as she was. Most were so happy to be freed from rationing that they didn''t care about anything but being fed.

    "It was important to know that I was not beholden to an authority for survival. I was¡­surprised when Isif revealed that our starvation and rampant cruelties were nothing but brutal methods of control. It made no sense, otherwise."

    "How could we be starving in a galaxy filled with prey? Worlds worth of cattle conquered? Yet, there''s always enough for the meritorious. For the elites. For those in power to tempt with favors and [fattening positions]."

    "How could Betterment operate with total freedom for centuries, yet still have to cull defective arxur constantly? How¡ªafter all this time¡ªcould they insist their doctrine was still necessary? At what point would Arxur be¡­Better?" The arxur sat heavily.

    "Yet, when our entire culture shattered, you humans allowed us to come to you in droves. Gorge ourselves on your ''cruelty-free'' meat. Indebt ourselves to you. Integrate in your territory. Be overseen, scanned, sorted, shipped off."

    She raised her leg, the blinking band snug around her ankle. "Tracked. Studied. Imprisoned. Re-educated. How lucky for us, when our human ''allies'' won''t even give us a seat at the negotiation table they created."

    "I have been waiting every day for the same demands I heard all my life. Demands of servitude and loyalty for the privilege of living." She let out a rumbling hiss from deep in her chest.

    "I won''t allow myself to be some kind of starving animal begging for scraps. Never again. To make sure I wasn''t being¡­tamed, I refused to eat until I decided to. Rations only. Food to survive. Enough to live, until I was free of any hint of influence."

    "I refused anything I felt was a temptation. Gifts and tributes. Offers from any, including other arxur. Solitude was¡­is safer. The exchange makes requests, or ''suggestions.'' But they are just orders. Ones that cannot be refused without losing face, or a ploy to demand favor in return. And favors are dangerous things to owe."

    Callie shook her head. "But I wasn''t trying to push food and stuff on you. It''s just fun to go out and eat. To relax and get to¡ªah, shit." The human took off her glasses and massaged her eyes. "But the whole time you were worried about¡ª

    "Oh God, of course you were. You''ve been living through hell. Every arxur was scraping by, competing for food, out to¡­to get each other. Trying to catch any slip-ups and "defects" to claw a little more for themselves. Why the fuck would you think everything would magically get better?"

    Rasvai stared. The human had unearthed her underlying worries just like that? How could Callie have possibly known¡ª

    You idiot! Worthless fool! You just had to open your mouth and let your defective thoughts out again, didn''t you? Now they''re going to get rid of you! Should''ve just slept in your fancy bed like a good slave.

    Callie blew out a breath. "Rasvai, I''m so sorry. It''s awful you thought all that, but¡­also really smart. You should be one of Isif''s advisors, seriously! And I bet nothing I say would reassure you, huh? It''s just too convenient. Too unbelievable that anyone would just¡­help you."

    Rasvai remained silent. Her stomach churned the rich meal within it. She''d stupidly revealed she knew too much. There was only one thing to do with anyone like that.

    "You''re suspicious and you should be! We''re all so fucking terrible!" The arxur flinched as Callie laughed, wiping an eye.

    "I bet no one told you that in the first months of integration talks, a whole section of ''experts'' demanded we put tracking implants in every arxur that came to Earth. This other crazy politician group pushed this whole bill about shock collars that''d trigger if your heart rates spiked too high. One pharma-backed psycho recommended having sedatives on hand that could be¡­" She trailed off as she saw the arxur''s wide-eyed stare.

    "Yeah. But the rest of us shut all that talk down hard. Whenever someone mentioned shock collars, or muzzles, or anything else crazy inhumane, the Advocates said the same thing." Callie scooted closer to the tense arxur. "You''re people. You deserve dignity and you need help, not more¡­fucking oppression."

    Callie fished a small chain from around her neck. "Rasvai, I don''t want to hurt you. I''m not here to be your minder or spy on you. I''m here to help you navigate all this¡­new stuff."

    "I''m here so you have someone who''s not a government-appointed worker to talk to. Someone on your side. I''m just some twenty-eight-year-old gal who wanted to meet an alien. I''m someone you can talk to, and trust."

    "But trust is a two-way street."

    Callie held the necklace out. "Some arxur have¡­episodes. The exchange has had incidents before. A lot of the time it''s not their fault. They get overwhelmed or¡­I dunno." She sighed. "Just because you''re empathetic enough to pass the screening doesn''t mean you can''t be violent. Trauma is hard to deal with."

    "The exchange gave me this. It''s a panic alarm for if you acted like¡­violent. But I don''t want it. You should have it instead." She gently curled the arxur''s claws around the small chain. "I trust you not to maul me, Rasvai. All I want is for us to be friends. Okay?"

    Rasvai''s mind raced as she held the small trinket. It was an alarm? What other secret contingencies were in place? By revealing this, was Callie distracting her from something even greater? Dammit, she still hadn''t properly checked her room. The scent of any meddling humans would probably be gone by now. She¡­she¡­

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    She was so exhausted. So tired of feeling like she''d be slaughtered for a single misstep. She sagged in her chair.

    Callie smiled, misreading her posture as a sign of relief. "The Arxur deserve a second chance. It''s all just¡ª"

    ¡°No we don¡¯t,¡± Rasvai snarled, squeezing the chain in her hand. Her bitter, self-loathing fury practically flooded the room. The dim backlighting from the curtained windows cast her baleful red eyes and hateful snarl with a glint of pure, predatory malice. ¡°You don¡¯t believe that. That¡¯s why you¡¯re culling us. Slowly. Secretly. You think I don''t understand the way things work?¡±

    Callie drew back in shock. ¡°What? Rasvai, we¡¯re not culling anyone! The integration screenings cut through all the quackery and nonsense from the Federation and Dominion. That''s all!¡±

    ¡°The arxur rejected from your territory still die. Killed by loyalists as traitors. Conscripted by warlords. Dragged back into their old ways, despite Isif''s promises and efforts for reform. Taken by Ex-Federation members for revenge. Thousands just¡­vanish!"

    "Those that aren''t killed join some roving mercenary outfit¡ªsomewhere monsters are celebrated instead of punished. Used as bloody, vicious pawns all over again!¡± Rasvai slammed her fist against the cushions.

    ¡°Are you scared that¡¯s going to happen to you?¡± Callie asked, gently. "It''s not, Rasvai."

    ¡°Why not? What was once defective is now desired. Before¡­with Betterment, we¡­¡± Whatever the arxur was trying to express fell to pieces. She fell silent.

    ¡°Rasvai, they lied to all of you. The Dominion¡ª"

    "I know they lied!" The arxur snarled. "It was never anything but lies! But I swallowed their lies all my life because I wanted to eat! To not have my throat cut, or my skull smashed, or allow some fervor-filled Betterment agents to¡­" Rasvai bit back her next words and slowed her furious breathing.

    She let out a scornful growl. ¡°If I wasn¡¯t defective¡­I would have lived a far better life on Wriss. I would have done my duty. Eaten the new rations and grumbled about our pride as predators. That the lack of cruelty was making us soft. I would''ve been¡­¡±

    Her eyes flashed. ¡°But what happens when Isif decides the cruel don¡¯t deserve a place in his regime? The defects I have mean I would survive that cull, even though I would''ve already been dead for revealing them."

    "Across Arxur space, Usliff¡¯s True Hunt is growing. It might rival Isif''s Coalition one day. He claims to welcome all arxur, defects or not. But he demands loyalty and zealotry and is ready to settle into an endless cold war against the entire galaxy. Like in our past. The same conflict that invited¡­" She looked around the apartment. ¡°Alien meddlers. The same type of conflict that led us here.¡±

    Rasvai let out a chilling laugh. ¡°So? What do I do to survive the next cull? What is the defect, and what is the True Arxur way? How do I conduct myself? Where do I pledge my loyalty? What do I do?¡± She hunched, curled tight as if defending from unseen blows. "In the end I¡­threw away my loyalty. Fled like¡­" She let the words die in her throat.

    Just like your pathetic, cowardly Father. That waste of scales that filled your soft little skull with weak, pathetic nonsense instead of teaching you to be strong. What it takes to survive. The same defect who left you to save his scales.

    The arxur withdrew into herself. Sitting in empty, stoic silence.

    Callie spoke hesitantly. ¡°I-I think you¡¯re free of all of that. It¡¯s all going to be okay.¡± Callie shifted in her seat. ¡°Hey.¡± Rasvai''s eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to the human. ¡°Thanks for sharing all that with me, Rasvai. Really.¡±

    The arxur curled a lip into a snarl as she realized how weak she seemed. She puffed out her chest, lashing her tail, regaining her prideful posture.

    ¡°Bah. Pointless whining. Scars are nothing but lessons the body holds for the mind.¡± She fought the instinct to touch the marks dug into her shoulders. "No matter where I go, I am beholden to some authority. That is life."

    "Yeah," Callie said with a sigh. "What do arxur usually do to take your mind off that stuff?" The arxur stared. "To¡­relax, you know? Have fun?"

    Torture and eat prey. Torment the local defectives and weaklings to feel superior. Fight and compete over pointless status. Find some sterilized tail-twirler and tempt them with a few morsels of hide or scraps of flesh to¡­

    Rasvai stared at the carpet. "The Dominion allowed little time for leisure. Being judged for merit was everything. There was constant competition for standing. When finished with our assigned duties, we would toil on some task or other so we might receive more consideration for rations. Besides that, broadcasts passed the time. Messages from the Prophet Descendant, military material, or¡­Betterment."

    "You said you did broadcasting back in the Dominion too, right? What kind of stuff did you make? Is anything like what we have?"

    Rasvai sat silently, claws curled into fists, hunched in her seat with renewed tension. "I read reports and studied manuals. I followed the dictates of my superiors. Captured and packaged what was ordered with the broadcasting equipment. My work was...propaganda," She spat, trailing off.

    "Oh," Callie said. "Like¡­bad stuff?" The arxur hesitated. Then she nodded, slowly. "I''m sorry, Rasvai. You can do all kinds of stuff to relax, now. Whatever you want."

    Rasvai averted her eyes. "You said something about books in your message? Most are ''stories,'' yes? Fanciful lies meant to entertain?"

    "Yeah! I can recommend some if you like." The arxur hissed out a doubtful sound. "Well, there''s all kinds of stuff to watch and read. Nothing like a good story for getting your mind off your troubles."

    "I don''t understand. What use is wasting your time with such¡­falsehoods?" the arxur scoffed.

    "''Cause it''s entertaining. Even if it''s not real, you can still get invested¡ªhell, sometimes you get even more invested because it''s not real. You get to think about the characters, the world, the plot. All the details and drama. If their creators do good enough, you can''t think about anything but. It lets you explore your feelings and¡­I dunno. It''s just fun." The human shrugged.

    "Delusional nonsense. How typical of humans," Rasvai grunted.

    "Imagination." Callie grinned, sweeping her hand out, fingers twirling. "If you wanna try and unwind, let''s watch something! Bet that''ll change your tune."

    The arxur rose. "I am not interested in such things. And I still have work tasks to complete¡ª"

    "Ahhh screw that! You have months to figure things out." Callie flapped a hand. "You''re working at LBN, right? Then let''s watch some trashy TV. Trust me¡ªthat''s plenty of work!"

    Rasvai remembered the binder of technical manuals and reference material waiting in her room. Buckling down to decipher it sounded¡­less than appetizing. And Mike did say she had the next month to familiarize herself with human standards.

    The arxur hissed, then sank back onto the couch. "Fine. I will watch one of your broadcasts. To understand what sort of footage my superiors expect me to prepare. Today was¡­needlessly confusing."

    "That''s the spirit! Seems like a good time to order some dinner, too. I''m pretty hungry." Callie craned to look over her shoulder. "We could consider tonight your welcome dinner. Get some takeout delivered? My treat?"

    Rasvai licked her lips. "If it is like that pork then perhaps I could¡­eat another portion."

    "Great!" Callie stood. "I''ll grab the delivery menus the exchange dropped off." She offered the arxur the remote as she passed. "Flip through a few shows and see if anything grabs you. If not, we can just close our eyes and pick at random."

    "A-alright." The arxur awkwardly tapped at the flimsy buttons with her claws.

    Numerous titles, descriptions, and ratings filled her vision as everything clamored at once for her attention. Flicking her gaze across the offerings, something called Our Stars Dark Horizons stood out thanks to a cosmic-themed background in a sea of brighter colors.

    Selecting it displayed a more focused page. Strange, human-like figures were presented in a loose cluster. Their features were shaped in various monstrous imitations of the Terrans. Each¡­creature was outnumbered by more normal-looking humans. All clutched each other tightly. One pair was even doing the odd¡­mouth-joining thing that signaled human affection.

    What was it called? Kissing? The arxur looked closer. Such an odd activity. She wondered exactly how¡ª

    A shudder of frigid disgust ran down her spine.

    Her head and neck were submerged in freezing water, the same frigid spray that left her shivering desperately. She coughed and gasped as her head was jerked up and she was allowed to breathe again, wrists yanking against her shackles without progress as she choked up water.

    The screen flickered, harsh and bright in her eyes. Images. Video.

    The cruel voice snarled. "Do you like what you see? Of course you do. You worthless, disgusting, defective¡ª"

    The arxur hissed, heaving the memory away, trying not to let herself tremble as her stomach roiled with echos of terror and disgust. She fought down the urge to vomit that had been gouged into her mind. Clenching her jaws, she twisted her tail so tightly in her claws that she was in danger of drawing blood.

    Fucking childish coward. Put your tail down girl¡ªor are you still some mewling hatchling? You''re a disgrace to our kind. Pull yourself together!

    She released her tail, hunching lower, shifting her gaze habitually to the ground.

    The overhead light clicked on.

    Callie was standing over her. Looming. Better than her. Holding her fate in her little soft digits and lying like all the rest. Trying to get her to slip up and drop her guard.

    "So these two places come recommended¡ªyou did just eat, though. But if you''re feeling full, you can always toss the leftovers. Waste a little food, who cares!" She laughed.

    Forced nausea filled her to the point she lost control. She vomited, the chunks of half-digested meat passing in a slurry of bloody bile. The pain of her bruised body made each heave even more painful.

    The hissing laugh rang out again over her coughs. "Wasting rations? Here I thought you wanted to live. Or would you rather go back to starving?"

    The instinct to lash out in fury nearly overwhelmed her. Rasvai''s chest squeezed so tightly she could scarcely breathe as she drew tense, about to seize the looming shape and¡ªand¡ª

    The cool metal of the necklace pressed against her scales.

    "I trust you not to maul me."

    Rasvai inhaled sharply, turning her lunge into a slow, shaking stretch in her seat. She jerked her tail in the affirmative, stonily accepting the pamphlets being offered. She stared down at them, pretending to read.

    The fit of emotion passed slowly. Too much to swallow all at once¡ªshe had to tear her pain to pieces and choke each bit down. Slowly. Silently. Stoically. Filling the dark pit inside to the brim.

    Eventually, the storm of smothered rage passed. The sharp edges of her memory dulled. A familiar ache settled in her chest. The empty, cold numbness was almost a relief.

    She had to be strong. She had to survive. Otherwise¡­what had it all been for?

    "Callie?" Rasvai asked once she was sure her voice was steady again. She blinked, the words onscreen almost nonsensical.

    "Yeah?" the human replied. The human followed the arxur''s gaze to the screen. "Oh, I''ve heard this is¡­I mean, it''s a pretty paint-by-numbers soap opera. Typical character drama. But the writers tried to keep things interesting, and the effects are decent. It''s watchable."

    The human turned to catch Rasvai''s bewildered stare. She laughed. "Oh yeah. This''ll be the perfect exposure to the excesses of modern network television. Good pick." Callie kicked her feet up.

    At a loss¡ªand unwilling to plunge back into the sea of choices¡ªthe arxur hit play.

    A string of characters was introduced with enough strange names and titles to be needlessly confusing. They spoke at length, back and forth, forging alliances and revealing allegiances. Fake locations from space mixed and mingled with falsified Earth factions, as Callie explained.

    Then, several of them had a nonsensical fight with impractical weapons over a pointless bauble. That was followed by a rapid-fire trial of some kind that ended when a shuttle crashed into the building. A trio of false deaths caused two real ones¡ªoffscreen, at that¡ªonly to have one of the slain be revealed as a nefarious copy brought about by some sort of insane¡­nonsense and the real character was apparently¡­fine?

    By the time the credits rolled, the arxur was reeling. Doubly so when she saw a familiar name scroll by under Senior Broadcasting Technician. Also¡­Digital Effects Artist? She grumbled.

    Such mastery of his craft, and for what? The entire pursuit was the definition of pointless. It was a confusing mess. A waste of time and effort the likes she''d never even conceived. The humans really were all defective freaks.

    But they knew how to prepare a meal. She dropped another morsel of "stir-fried beef" on her tongue, savoring it slowly.

    "So what do you think? Next episode?" Callie asked, speaking through a mouthful of noodles.

    "Rhhgg¡­if you must," the arxur sighed, licking the thick, flavorful sauce from her claws. She settled back, resigning herself to the human''s company and the theft of her otherwise quiet evening.

    Maybe human broadcasts weren''t so bad.