The Report to the Kalik -- Short Story

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, inhabited by strange humanoid species 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 what they said was my ‘final report’. I am a bit disappointed that they have concluded it so early without an explanation. Of course, I keep such feelings to myself. The Ka’lik do not tolerate insubordination, especially from an inferior race such as us Twu’raq.

Walking 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 the Ka’lik in war. No one who has disputed it 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 were lucky that the Ka’lik prize 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 the noises of the attendees. The hall has been quickly filled with Ka’lik dignitaries, minor vassal kings, nobles and their slaves. All of them are waiting for me to give the 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 many 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 of his black scaly being .To mask their fear of him, they convince themselves that The Crown Prince 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 himself. No, he much preferred to earn his respect the old fashioned way .Although Ka’lik royalty are obligated to serve in the military ,few  have been deployed for combat . The majority serve as officers, overseeing the blood – drenched atrocities from behind their pristine desks. Not the Crown Prince. He volunteered for the most brutal missions available, risking his own life on the front lines. 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 he won’t stand so close to me when he gives me his duplicitous commendations.

In his walk, his supreme confidence is evident. For in his claws lie our fates. The right to live or die is no longer ours, a power he relishes. The stream of accomplishments and success coupled with his tender age has culminated in an unapologetic arrogance that is felt by all. Here is where the temperament of the Colonel and the General differ.

The General has never once raised his voice in frustration, nor has he ever screamed in anger. As a creature of few words he only communicates what he feels is pertinent to the situation at that very moment. The Colonel however is a different story. It is impossible to get a word in edgewise when he is in one of his daily mercurial moods. The General also rarely participates in gala events, being much more reserved. His son however, is always seen attending these pompous evening receptions, eager to be the center of attention.

Yet, no alien in universe would dispute that of the two, the General is the cruelest and most fearsome. His lack of feeling and his cold demeanor towards life has allowed him to exponentially kill, enslave and torture more planets than the previous Ka’lik rulers before him. A calculating lack of remorse is more terrifying than mere hot –blooded tantrums. The Crown Prince, brash as he may be, wouldn’t dare challenge this fact.

The loud thunder steps have stopped. Shaking, I finally raise my head and stare at the most powerful creature in this galaxy. No matter how often I see him, I still gape at his height. It would take no effort on his part to slash me to gooey shreds .Taking a moment I stare at the crowd gathered ,it is uncomfortably quiet .

But within our heads we scream as loud as possible ,cursing our oppressive overlords but, knowing full well we are powerless to defend ourselves. But no one will hear those voices for the audience stands silently straight in neat orderly rows. They remember to cast their eyes downwards to show proper respect as per the indoctrination – I mean instruction.

The Colonel takes his seat; the audience holds their breath as they now turn their attention towards me. All four of my eyes blink rapidly as I begin greeting my diverse listeners. As I introduce myself in the various languages of the region, I glance back at the Colonel.

His long tongue slides out of his mouth, touching his jawbone. Hissing, he motions for his servant to take note of what I am saying. I catch little whispers of him ordering the infantry, the artillery and the warships to be moved closer to the To’bu quadrant. My eyes widen as I realize that it’s the same quadrant where my pretty blue planet lies.

Ya’li, I mean Earth, I weep for you.