|The Report to the Ka'lik (standard:science fiction, 1169 words)|
|Author: FlutterWrites||Added: Mar 17 2013||Views/Reads: 3397/859||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|An alien waits for his turn to give a report on a recent expedition to earth.|
The Report to the Ka'lik We are strictly confined to watch them from the shadows so as not to alarm them. However, I long to be able to communicate with them face to face. That would give an entirely new perspective to our research. For one, perhaps we'd understand why we've had to study them so intently in the first place. Although it has been one hundred years, the humans are still fascinating to our kind. My masters, the Ka' lik, assigned me to planet Earth when I had just graduated from my biological studies. I had heard only urban legends about that blue planet, about those strange species that were capable of great things. The planet was on the far reaches of the galaxy, yet a rather large expedition party was arranged. No explanation was given as to our objective, our orders were simply to study the homosapien way of life and meticulously document all our findings. Today, my masters have summoned me to hear my ‘final report'. I am a bit disappointed, if it is to be a final report, then it means that the study has concluded. Of course, I keep my feelings to my myself. The Ka'lik does not tolerate insubordination, especially from an inferior race such as us Twu'raq. As I walk toward the chamber of the grand conference hall, I admire the splendid etchings of various Ka' lik military victories. No one would dispute the acumen of Ka'lik in war. No one who has disputed it has survived. Gleaming sculptures of famous Ka'lik generals adorn the walls, while the wide sweeping architecture clings to the ceiling, and vibrant paintings of Ka'lik folk tales line the corridor .It took the Ra'mu slaves weeks and weeks of endless toil to turn this once bare hall into a masterpiece. The Ra'mu was lucky that the Ka'lik prized their artisanal skills; it saved their planet from complete destruction. We Twa'raq weren't so fortunate. I am put into the adjacent waiting room, though the doors are closed, I can hear the hall filling with noises of the attendees. The has been quickly filled with Ka'lik dignitaries, minor vassal kings, nobles and their slaves. All of them are waiting for me to give my report on my observations of Planet Earth, or Ya'li as we call it. Finally I am permitted to take the stage; I nervously go over the key points in my head. Did I remember to bring the appropriate images? It's too late now. I always fear what comes next .We all must wait for HIS entrance. It's a visual reminder of who still rules this universe. Well, at least he will rule it soon. Crown Prince, Official Ruling Regent of the Kal'ik, The Colonel .Sounds of footsteps gradually get louder and louder as he approaches the long runway in the middle of the conference hall. Although he wears boots to cover his claws, the noise is pronounced enough to sound like the beatings of a war drum. The countless war medals pinned to his uniform catch the light as he passes by, reminding us of the countless ceremonies where the Colonel was honored for his bravery. Although, ruthlessness would be a more accurate term. He enters into the auditorium trailed by his lower ranking officers and his attendants. They would never dare admit it, but they hate every fiber every of his black scaly being .To mask their fear of Colonel, they convince themselves that The Crown Prince has gained his power solely by the privilege of being the Generals' son. But that is entirely inaccurate . The Colonel never relied on his father's position to make a name for him. No, he much preferred to earn his respect the old fashioned way .Although Ka'lik royalty are required to serve in the military , not all have been deployed for combat . The majority served more as officers, overseeing the atrocities from behind their desks. Not the Crown Prince. He volunteered for the most brutal missions available, risking his own life many times on the front. His medals were earned in blood, sometimes that of his own. He is almost to the podium, although I don't dare make eye contact. Keeping my eyes staring at the floor reflection, I see the outline of his massive body. Spikes protrude out from the curve of his back, sharper than a swords blade. My tentacles begin to shake as I pray that Click here to read the rest of this story (45 more lines)
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