Dhfreze's scent kissed Kvir's receptors, the preserved blood in the capsule rich with her essence. Soon, thought Kvir, when they hatch, the two of us will usher in a new and better era.
So he dreamed and so he hoped, even as each batch of eggs shrank in size. The Lesser Mothers could only do so much. Nothing remained of the Holy Mother Crouched Behind the Throne, her blessed atoms scattered across the irradiated husk of Pfhor Prime. The s'pht saw to that, only giving the humans one week to evacuate the pfhor before erasing all life from the world's surface.
But as long as his crèche lived on, Kvir knew, he could rest easy. Such was the promise written in the pfhor genetic code, instinctual and eternal. For this his ancestors fought to expand their hives, giving everything to survive through descending generations. When the Holy Mother Crouched Behind the Throne at last united the hives, this urge propelled the race as a whole into the stars, to find more worlds for their progeny.
Kvir took another draught of Dhfreze's smell, deeper than the last, cherishing his lifeline to home as the human troop carrier folded through the stars. No matter how many times he went on board he'd recoil in disgust at the first sight of the endless gray corridors, the air so cold and dry, more like a place built for robots than for living things.
"When I reach Attentive, our imprint shall be on a generation. This I promise to you, my one, my only," he uttered.
A loud ping yanked him back to unwelcome reality. A sharp green light blinked at him from the desktop terminal, and he flipped the switch.
"Kvir, Liaison Officer Bastos wants to see you," emerged the bored voice at the other end.
"Willful 1st Class Kvir is en route," replied Kvir, a flat mechanical voice translating his words to English. He always wondered what nuances the translation might lose.
Leaving the comfort of his room he entered the hallways of the TUS Blake, kept dark for the sake of its majority Pfhor crew. A small touch, but one he appreciated. Most troop transports kept their lights at human levels, inflicting awful headaches and dizziness on his kindred. Even so, the place felt unnatural. What did humans love so much about 90 degree angles? Their aesthetic resembled nothing from nature. But perhaps that made sense for a species so enraptured by machines and dreams.
Reaching the upper decks (brightly lit, for the officers and technicians who lived there), he made haste to Bastos' office. He repressed his fear passing the humans, even though he knew they'd never detect the smell of his dread, that they didn't even know how. Their blank faces always terrified him, the tiny eyes and vague scents like machines trying to imitate life.
Captain Adriana Bastos invited him inside, and he saw the lights go down as the door slid open. Her vast mouth turned up at the corners as Kvir entered. If a human smiled, he meant no harm. Except when he did, and just smiled to put someone off-guard. Or when a human smiled for no reason at all. You could never really tell, and Kvir found it remarkable that such a confused species could ever achieve space travel.
"Willful Rank 1st Class Kvir. Thank you for appearing at such short notice."
Always the thank yous. Kvir knew that human officers never thanked subordinates for following orders, that this represented the government's efforts to uplift the pfhor. Still, he respected Adriana. She helped the hive, in her own way, and did more for it than most humans. She also met with the pfhor in person, even though she lacked pheromones to impart. Such was the way of the pfhor, except when distance necessitated long-distance conversations. Most liaison officers preferred to keep communication strictly in the digital realm.
"Yes. Your orders?"
"No orders yet, Kvir. I wanted to ask you about your troops. What is their level of readiness for the assault?"
"Sufficient. I will forward a report."
"I meant psychologically. Do they feel misgivings about fighting other pfhor?"
"No. Other pfhor are the enemy of the hive and are to be treated as such unless they surrender to our superiors. We understand that."
"Good. Why do you think we want them to surrender?"
"Is this a test, Captain Bastos?"
"No, no tests. I want to know what you think."
"We wish to incorporate them into the hive, so that pfhor numbers may improve. By offering mercy, we demonstrate that they are not slaves." Though they will be obeying the pheromones of the higher ranks in our hive, just as they do to theirs, thought Kvir, the very definition of slavery. Humans tried to change the definition of that and other concepts, introducing a whole host of pfhor-English words that no one used.
"Correct. The other liaison officers and myself convinced Admiral Nakajima to flood the pirate base with assault drones before your people are sent in. With any luck, they'll surrender before you even have to attack."
"We await further orders. Thank you?"
"You're welcome. Dismissed, Willful Rank 1st Class Kvir."
*********
ADMIN. MARQUEZ: Admiral, do you have any idea how much a single Centurion-class costs the taxpayer?
ADMIRAL NAKAJIMA: Cost's not the issue here. I've made my decision, and I'm sending in the assault drones first.
ADMIN. MARQUEZ: Yeah, get a few of them blown up and the government spends a fortune replacing them. Barely costs a thing to train new pfhor.
ADMIRAL NAKAJIMA: Those pfhor are under my command, and I'll use them as I see fit. The Terran Union wants to keep as many alive as possible, and I aim to do that.
ADMIN. MARQUEZ: The Pfhor Laws have dozens of loopholes. Everyone else just throws pfhor at the bad guys to soften them up. Thins the alien crowd, makes things easier. Assault drones are for big operations, not housecleaning. Look, reelection's coming up, costs need to stay down. It'll help you-
ADMIRAL NAKAJIMA: The other day you suits were telling me how I needed to teach the pfhor about second chances and rule of law. Now you want me to use them as cannon fodder to save money. This is my jurisdiction, so I'm running the show as I see fit. Goodbye.
- Transcript of conversation between Admiral Joe Nakajima and Alpha Level Administrator Sandor Marquez
*********
"Inform them that they will be enslaved. Anything else will cause alarm."
Kvir and the other four commanders stood around a holographic display of their target, U-382, a rocky planetoid wreathed in a primitive atmosphere of noxious gas. Areas occupied by the pfhor pirates glowed green like beacons on the surface.
"Slavery is no longer permitted," said Kvir, correcting his compatriot, Ulrit, who knew little about humans. Probably not Attentive Rank material.
"Humans cannot forbid a law of nature. Humans are also slaves to those higher than them, even if they do not use pheromones to enforce obedience. If we do not explain to the pirates that they will be made slaves, they will be afraid. You know this."
"They must know that slavery is not permitted," said Kvir, adamant.
"You confuse me. All species are slaves. The s'pht clan leaders of old enslaved those beneath them. The strongest of the drinniol enslave the weaker. The needs of a race enslave its masters."
Kvir paused, a bit confused himself.
"Obedience is not the same as slavery. There is always the option to disobey, though there are consequences." He spoke with care, sensing that he was losing ground. "Humans can be rewarded for disobedience, for instance."
"Only by appealing to an even higher authority, or taking control, perpetuating slavery." Perhaps Ulrit knew humans better than Kvir believed. Then, in a flash, Kvir understood why the humans wanted to introduce a new word for pheromone obedience. A new word created a distinction between the forcible enslavement of other races and the natural state of affairs for the pfhor.
Even if no distinction existed.
"Your point is taken. I will relay these concerns to Liaison Officer Bastos."
With that done, they returned to matters of strategy.
*********
The animated children's program, Frontier Adventure Squad, presents a uniquely positive example of the Pfhor. This show follows a group of six youthful protagonists exploring a strange and dangerous world on the edge of known space. Included in their group is Vdron, a young pfhor who interacts with his comrades as an equal, at least supposedly.
In reality, Vdron is a comic relief character, frequently misinterpreting his friends' intentions and behavior. Real pfhor often find themselves confused by human actions. However, Vdron's misinterpretations are not the kind that an actual pfhor would ever make.
For instance, one episode has Vdron observing a holiday that commemorates the pfhor conquest of Lh'owon, only to be chastised by his fellows (and later introduced to a recurring s'pht character who teaches him sensitivity). In reality, the initial conquest of Lh'owon warranted no particular attention among the pfhor, being seen as a fairly unremarkable operation.
Other errors abound, like giving Vdron "male" personality traits, despite pfhor gender relations having little in common with the human equivalent, not the least because the pfhor have three sexes: egg-layer, caregiver (both erroneously considered analogous to female), and fertilizer (erroneously considered analogous to male).
For all intents and purposes, Vdron is simply a human with three eyes and a funny accent, rather than an actual pfhor.
- The Treatment of Pfhor in Popular Media, by Andrew Jefferson, University of Liberty Prime Press, 2865
[Edited on 06.17.2010 12:50 AM PDT]