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Her rage was broken by the arrival of others, as Nathan and Jessica entered the observation room.

“Jalea, thank you for meeting us,” Nathan said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we might need a translator.”

“Of course,” she said, her chin dipping slightly. “However, this one is Ybaran. And although young, he is old enough to have learned Angla in his youth.”

“Ybaran?” Jessica asked.

“A small system just outside of the Pentaurus cluster. It was conquered just recently by the Ta’Akar-maybe ten years ago. Before then, all children were taught Angla, just as I was. It was only after the Ta’Akar came and enforced the Doctrine of Origins that the use of Angla was discontinued on Ybara.”

“Then he can understand us?” Jessica asked.

“Most likely, yes, although he will not admit to such. To do so would be admitting doubt in his own faith.”

“I’m not following,” Nathan admitted.

“Ybarans, like those of any other Ta’Akar controlled world, are required to serve in the legions. The best and most devoted of them join the Ghatazhak-a specially trained group of elite warriors. They have been brain washed into believing that Caius is a God, and that all humanity comes from Takara, not Earth. They are fiercely loyal to Caius. Admitting that he understands Angla would be like denouncing his belief in the Doctrine of Origins, which would disqualify him from service in the Ghatazhak, bringing him great dishonor.”

“How do you think we should handle this?”

“He will not respond to questions. He might give you some simple answers meant to placate you and to feed his feeling of superiority. But he will offer no information of substance. To obtain such information will require more direct persuasion.”

Nathan had a pretty good idea of what she meant by that. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to go to that extent just yet. After all, being from Earth, they really had no quarrel with the Ta’Akar. Whatever skirmishes they had been involved in thus far could all be attributed to a galactic misunderstanding, stemming from being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Let’s just start with conversation, shall we?” Nathan turned to Jessica and nodded. Jessica moved to the door and pressed the intercom button.

“Hands on the table!” she ordered through the wall-mounted intercom. The prisoner looked up, indicating that he heard her words, but made no movement indicating compliance.

“I said, hands on the table!”

Jalea leaned over to the intercom and shouted something into the intercom in her language-presumably the same thing that Jessica had just said. Reluctantly, the prisoner put both of his hands on the table in front of him.

Jessica turned a small dial on the control panel and flipped a switch. The prisoner felt his hands suddenly being held tightly against the table, as powerful magnets built into the tabletop secured his metal-clad wrists against its now magnetized service, thus rendering his hands immobile.

“All clear, Captain,” Jessica assured him.

Nathan unlocked the door and entered the room with Jalea and Jessica close behind, closing the door as she entered.

The prisoner’s eyes narrowed with hatred at the sight of Jalea. “Karuzari,” he seethed, as if describing something quite vile. A string of unintelligible words followed, to which Jalea responded in kind, although far more calmly.

“What did he say?” Nathan asked.

“He described a quite distasteful sexual act he was going to perform on me before killing me.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him he would require a bigger weapon.”

Nathan smiled. Again, it didn’t seem to matter where you were in the galaxy; people were people just the same. “Feel free to translate at will.”

“Why did you attack this ship?” Nathan began. Jalea immediately translated his question. The prisoner answered without hesitation.

“The Ta’Akar kill the Karuzari. You are with them, so we kill you,” Jalea translated, offering nowhere near the tone and inflection that had been used by the prisoner.

“Guilt by association,” Nathan muttered.

The prisoner continued his rant, each sentence becoming more enraged than the previous one.

“Because of your actions, you are doomed. You cannot help them,” Jalea continued to translate. “Soon the Karuzari scum will be exterminated, as will all who dare to help them.”

“I wouldn’t count on that just yet,” Jessica spouted off, unable to control herself.

Nathan, standing beside Jalea with his arms crossed, glanced at Jessica, one eyebrow shooting up in disapproval as he held up one hand, motioning her to control herself. “Easy, killer.” Nathan turned his gaze back to Jalea. “What if we told him where we’re from?” he suggested as he turned to his left and took a few casual steps forward, as if deep in contemplation. The steps took him just behind the prisoner’s periphery, where he could no longer see Nathan without taking his eyes off Jalea. Nathan turned slowly back to face Jalea. “What if we went ahead and admitted we’re from Earth?”

The prisoner’s eyes darted to his right, to look briefly at Nathan, then back again at Jalea to watch her response. The prisoner’s eyes had gotten a bit wider. Just as I suspected, Nathan thought. You’ve heard of Earth as well.

“But Captain,” Jessica protested, “You-”

Nathan held one hand up again, gesturing for Jessica to stop talking. He locked eyes with Jalea, winked, and said, “What harm could it do?”

“Nathan-” Jalea began to protest, purposefully using his first name. The prisoner’s eyes became even wider.

“Go ahead,” Nathan urged

Jessica had been watching Nathan’s eyes during the exchange, and witnessed the wink. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it was obvious that he had a plan. She only wished he had let her in on it before hand.

Jalea sighed. “As you wish, sir.” Jalea turned to the prisoner, and began speaking in low, calm, even melodic tones. It was as if she were reciting a passage from a book, a poem, or even a psalm. She circled the prisoner, from his right side, around behind him, and to his left, talking softly as she did so. The prisoner appeared disconcerted, growing ever more so with each lyrical phrase that rolled off Jalea’s tongue.

Despite his inability to understand the Ta’Akar language, Nathan had a feeling that what Jalea was saying to the prisoner was familiar-to both her and the prisoner-as his eyes continued to widen with a mixture of doubt and fear. More than once, Nathan heard reference to ‘Earth’, and each time it seemed to make the prisoner slightly more uncomfortable. Finally, her utterances came to an end with a slight pause, and then the word ‘Na-Tan’.

The prisoner objected, calmly at first, but soon his objections grew more pronounced. Jalea continued to preach to him, repeating the same phrases over and over. As his objections grew louder, so did Jalea’s. Within moments, they were shouting at one another.

Suddenly, Jalea’s preaching’s broke into Angla, still at full volume. “The Legend of Origins is no longer a legend! And soon all the people of Ta’Akar shall know the truth! That your king is a liar! That we are all from Earth!”

“No!” the prisoner protested yet again. Only this time it was also in Angla, and with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“This ship is the ship of legend! These people are the warriors of God! And this man is Na-Tan!”

“No!” the prisoner cried out, his words rising to the level of shouts, spit flying from his lips as he screamed. “It is not true! Caius is a God!”

Jalea’s voice raised with the prisoner’s, matching not only his volume but also his level of emotion. “Caius is only a fool pretending to be a God!”

“No! No! No!” the prisoner repeated at the top of his lungs. “Soon our new reactors will be available and our ships will be invincible! There will be no stopping the mighty Ta’Akar legions as we spread across the galaxy! Caius the Great shall rule supreme over all the stars in the sky!”