Interlude-Debrief

Yesterday evening, Ase Serralinitus had been delivered an absurd mess.

His rank, Ase, or Colonel, was high enough to have known about the Korbanok raid beforehand. Anybody with even a passing familiarity with any form of military history could have predicted the operation would go down in the history books. It had been a massive undertaking with dozens of objectives. Military scholars would dissect the decisions made on that day for decades, just considering the scope of the event. It would be weeks before anyone but the Admiralty Board knew the sum of the raid’s success.

Serralinitus was no exception to that.

But he knew the event’s scope was not what history would really remember Korbanok for.

First Contact.

There hadn’t been new contact with alien life for more than eighty years. Not since the disastrous clash with the Uriken.

But in the chaos that had unfolded in the hours and days following the raid, there had been whispers from Vorak controlled territory. Informants, spies, hints of some kind of biohazard leak.

Something had gotten loose.

And now that something was here.

The first rumors had reached Serralinitus’s ears just a few hours after the raid. One of the underground Coalition affiliated groups out in Rasi borough had wired about the Vorak response to the raid.

The teams whose plan had included escape to the planet’s surface had all anticipated landing outside Rasi or Emmok boroughs, after which they would be smuggled west via the oceans, away from Vorak controlled territory.

But the communique had talked about Rak teams scouring the roads instead.

Early this morning, there had been a public broadcast that the Sojourn tunnels had been blocked the day before, and would likely be impassable for months. Serralinitus had assumed the vicious winter storm had set off a collapse, or a landslide.

But now he was staring at the brief summary report from the very Coalition team that had destroyed the tunnel hours before the snow had started falling.

The team in question was in bad shape. What remained of the original fireteam had been shorn down to just two of the original members, joined by a living legend, and finally the single biggest disaster waiting to happen.

If the alien hadn’t been among them, this would have been a triumphant story that would inspire Coalition grunts for years. The battered and humble remnants of a rugged team, joining forces with the Warlock and narrowly escaping a horde of angry Vorak pursuers?

If Serralinitus hadn’t known better, he would have been inspired by the tale himself.

But there was more to the story.

The alien.

The Adept.

Serralinitus felt a bit like the ground beneath him were crumbling, bit by bit. Something he’d taken for granted, as simple fact, had been eroded out from under him and now threatened to cast him into some dark and hostile valley.

The last time First Contact had happened, the individual in charge had been prosecuted rigorously and spent of the rest of their life in prison. All because the poor thkei had returned fire when the newly contacted Uriken had tried to kill them all.

And even though the Coalition was already on frosty terms with the Organic Authority and had little reason to cooperate with them, he wasn’t eager to be the one responsible for this mess.

And yet he was.

His only consolation was the knowledge that, no matter how bad his mess was, whoever his Vorak counterpart was would be having an even worse time in the wake of the Korbanok raid.

Having the creature was bad, but losing it?

The team’s report on the two and a half days since the same raid were certainly informative, but they were glaringly incomplete. The reports had been written by three exhausted soldiers after a long time on the run.

Serralinitus couldn’t make the necessary decisions with incomplete information.

It didn’t matter if they were exhausted. He needed to know more.

He couldn’t even task this to someone else. Somehow, the team had hidden the alien during the entrance onto the base. The soldiers he’d talked to had seen four figures in the vehicle, but no one had realized the one wrapped in the tarp had been a new breed of alien.

The Colonel poked his head out of his office. His aide was busy at their desk, pouring over requisition requests from outlying bases in the region.

“I’ll be back.” Serralinitus said, exiting into the hall.

“Yes sir.” The aide replied.

There were only three people that could tell him more. And they were all technically in quarantine.

·····

Dyn was the only other person on the base besides Serralinitus that knew about the alien, although Serralinitus sincerely doubted how long it could possibly be kept secret. Dyn had been the one to arrange for the deep cleaning of all the hallways the alien had walked through on the route to the infirmary. The actual grunts that did the work had been perplexed, but not inquisitive.

Dyn had also been the one to build the measures they were quarantining with.

The Farnata’s work ethic was unimpeachable. He was doing alone work that normally called for half a dozen experts. Serralinitus’ chief medical officer had gotten to work immediately when the Colonel had first received the Warlock’s broadcast from the borough’s outer limit.

Now the Warlock was sitting on the other side of a transparent plastic curtain isolating half the infirmary.

Serralinitus sat behind a makeshift desk with a portable computer loaded with three Coalition personnel files.

He didn’t need to look at Nai’s file though. He was more than familiar with hers.

Serralinitus had met the Warlock before. She’d been under his command a little less than two years ago, during the last series of raids on Paris’s moons. When the Vorak had assaulted one of the battery encampments, Nai Calyan-Ti had been the last one standing. She’d reported back a total loss of the battery crew, but she’d managed to kill the entire assault team. And the next. And the next.

A single person capable of turning the tide of entire battles, not many Adepts earned widely recognized epithets, but the Warlock had more than earned hers.

No one could deny the sheer tactical utility of a fully realized L3 Adept, but Serralinitus had a less than glowing opinion of her presence.

Last time, he’d ordered her to abandon the battery and regroup. He’d intended to demote her, but the Admiralty had quietly ensured otherwise.

It wasn’t hard to see why. If the Vorak had taken the battery, they would have gained a defensible foothold and a set of guns to shoot at anything in orbit. Nai had prevented that. But she still hadn’t followed orders, and in so doing, lives had been lost. Almost certainly fewer lives than if she’d acted differently, but not lives he was responsible for.

Now the Warlock was sitting before him again. Her participation in the Korbanok raid had been a given that didn’t surprise him. But he hadn’t been expecting any teams in the raid’s wake. The teams that had been planning on evacuating to Yawhere’s surface were supposed to have fled west via ocean routes. Not east toward him.

“Why take the land route?” He asked.

“Lorel’s suggestion.” Nai replied, “He formulated our plan, but he was captured when we left the university.”

“Whose idea was it to collapse the tunnels?”

“I accept full responsibility.” The Warlock said.

“Not what I asked.” Serralinitus said.

“…Lorel had the idea, but all of us agreed it was our best chance.”

The Colonel grunted and scrawled a note on his paper pad. It would be transcribed into his report later.

“Your report said you were incapacitated for long stretches throughout this. What happened?” Serralinitus asked.

“I had full engagement authorization on Korbanok. I went head-to-head against a ranking Vorak, a real headliner. Left its marks. I’m still feeling the worst of it. I won’t be completely recovered for months.”

Serralinitus’s head rose in surprise. Nai didn’t give her enemies praise. For that to change…

“I couldn’t kill it.” She admitted. “I’ve never seen any ability like it, but with it this Rak pushed me well past my mass limit. I’ve been feeling the accumulation sickness.”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. There was a Rak out there that the Warlock couldn’t kill?

“You couldn’t burn it?” He asked incredulously. If there was a new Vorak headliner, they all needed to know.

Nai nodded. “I caught it completely, engulfed it from every angle. The scrape only got bigger .”

“Some kind of growth Adept?”

“No, I’ve fought growers before. This one didn’t grow so drastically, just a few feet. But it didn’t matter how I modulated the fire. Nothing seemed to work. First time I ever ran away from a single opponent.”

“…And you ran right into our alien mystery.”

Nai looked over her shoulder at the alien, now asleep, in the makeshift quarantine cube. Tasser and Nemuleki were both talking with Dyn, who was dressed up in a full hazmat suit, trying to help accelerate his work to determine just what their biohazard risk was.

“The alien then, you spent days around it. Can you summarize your thoughts?”

“It’s dangerous. Don’t think for a second it couldn’t kill us.” Nai warned. “It’s heavy, strong, and fast. And I don’t know the extent of its Adept limits.”

“You think it should be kept under guard?”

“A heavily armed guard.” She confirmed, “I think there’s too many unanswered questions to risk otherwise. It cooperated with us because we had a common enemy, but even assuming that this thing isn’t affiliated with the Vorak in any way, that doesn’t mean it’s friendly.”

“But it did fight off the Vorak that attacked you?”

“It fought with us, but I believe that the Adepts we fought wouldn’t have been informed if it were an infiltrating agent. They would try to kill or apprehend it, just like us. We can’t trust anything about it until we know more.”

“You really think it could be a spy?” Serralinitus asked.

Nai stared at the alien a little longer, eventually shaking her head. “No, not really,” She confessed, “The possibility exists, but if it were somehow just a Vorak ploy, I would actually feel better. It would be more of a known quantity then. But as it stands, we know nothing about it. We don’t know how it wound up on a Vorak station, we don’t know what they want with it. That kind of uncertainty isn’t any kind of reason to lower our guards. It’s the opposite. We need to be prepared for it to bite us at any moment.”

“Paranoia played its part in ruining the last First Contact. If we do the wrong thing, we could make a new enemy of its people. And we’re already fighting enough wars. We won’t win another.” Serralinitus pointed out.

“Still, I stand by what I said. It’s Adept, so if it needs to die, I’ll be ready.”

“I’d rather you focus on our more immediate enemy than make new ones. If it is a Vorak plant, I think it will bide its time further. And if not, then you have nothing to worry about. Stay off your feet. Recover.”

“I’m ready to fight if I have to.”

“Not if I can help it.” He said, “If you die because I pushed you while you’re drained, the Admiral will have my head.”

Nai reluctantly nodded.

“Alright.” Serralinitus said, “You realize you’re going to be under my command for a while, right?”

Nai frowned. “Why? I’d thought we were going to be here a few weeks to recuperate, and then get in orbit.”

Serralinitus clicked his tongue. “Prowler teams destroyed the spaceport we had in Naggard a few hours before Korbanok. Someone saw the raid about to happen and thought we might be vulnerable while we attacked elsewhere.”

“I didn’t know the Prowlers were in this system.” Nai said, “I was only briefed on the Red Sails and Deep Coils.”

“We didn’t either.” Serralinitus grimaced, “It’s why their attack worked. The bottom line is, Coalition heads aren’t making it off this planet any time soon, and this is probably the most secure facility on this side of the planet. So you’re all staying here for now.”

The Colonel noticed the time, and decided to cut short his conversation with Nai. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, and he had two other soldiers to consult.

Still, half measures wouldn’t do. He needed every scrap of information he could get about this alien.

“The alien then,” he said, “You confirmed it was Adept how?”

Nai took a weary breath and continued their story.

·····

“I suggested to our commander that I had a local contact who could help. They suggested we examine its blood to try and learn more about its biology. We found meta-microbes.”

“This local contact, at the school. They were in biosciences?”

Raho Diar Nemuleki could have been the poster child for Coalition recruitment efforts.

She’d suspended her aspirations of a higher education in favor of picking up a rifle and kicking the Vorak out of Casti colonies.

Years ago, Serralinitus hadn’t been so different. It had been a long time since those days though.

“Yes sir.” She said, sitting on the other side of the plastic film.

“Do I need to know their name?” the Colonel asked.

Nemuleki shifted nervously. She seemed like she was mortified at even potentially hiding something from a superior.

“Yes sir, I’ll answer any questions—”

“I know you will Officer, I need—” Serralinitus cut himself off before he let his exasperation show. He didn’t have nearly the same love of the Warlock that most of his peers did, and even so he hadn’t found the Adept’s debriefing to be so stiff.

Nai wasn’t Casti. She didn’t follow the Casti convention.

Nemuleki wasn’t Nai.

If he had to hear this soldier start every phrase with ‘yes sir’, he was going to shoot himself well before morning.

“Dispense with the formalities.” He ordered wearily. “I don’t have the energy to go through the proper motions. We have what appears to be a First Contact situation, let’s move as quickly as we can.”

“Yes si—” Nemuleki bit off her automatic response, “—Ask away.”

“I’m looking for your opinion.” He said plainly. “You’re one of three people who have the most experience out of anyone with this alien. What are you thinking about it?”

“This biohazard seal is redundant...” Nemuleki ventured, “exposure is already outside the seal.”

“But the potential sources for new and continued exposure are isolated,” Serralinitus said, “We’re going to do as much testing as we can before you guys are out, so get comfortable.”

Nemuleki nodded to concede the point. She probably would have thought of that on her own, but she’d apparently been through a long day. Dyn had mentioned she’d been hit with a bomb this morning. She didn’t look like she was in bad shape despite it.

“But if Caylab doesn’t know that it might try to get out on its own. We need to devise more communication with it.”

“Now that you don’t have Rak on your heels, there will be more time for that. But I need to know as much as possible about the alien itself. I understand you have a partial background in bioscience. What can you tell me about it?” Serralinitus asked.

“It’s a monster.” Nemuleki said. “It’s as strong as a Vorak, but as big as a Farnata. Unarmed, I don’t think it would need Adept powers to kill me.”

Serralinitus frowned, realizing what she’d said a bit late.

“Caylab? ” He asked.

It had been a long day for Serralinitus too, he was bound to be late picking up some details.

“It’s the alien’s name, we’re pretty sure. It responds to the name, at least.”

Serralinitus nodded. That was promising on the communication front.

“It’s not the name of its species?”

“No sir, we didn’t think so,” Nemuleki said, “I actually talked to it about different species. We’ve been limited to one-word conversations. Officer Tasser found that single words reduced complexity enough that it could understand a little bit.”

“Can you tell me anything about it that I might need to know?” He asked.

“It doesn’t seem to have a problem drinking standard purified water, so I don’t think it has any really esoteric mineral demands. But Dyn noticed we should analyze its food immediately. It has some rations in the satchel it’s carrying, but it’s a limited supply. It’ll begin to starve soon if we can’t produce more food for it.”

“Since you’re one of the few in the know, Dyn will be needing your help on the procedural side of things.”

“We’ll be staying here even after the quarantine clears?” Nemuleki asked.

Serralinitus nodded, “We have the bunks, and everyone knew the station assignments would get messy following Korbanok. Your team is under my command until further notice.”

“Yes sir.”

Serralinitus gave up trying to quash the Officer’s formality with a sigh.

“Moving off the technical details, care to speculate as to the alien’s relationship with the Vorak?” He asked.

“It’s definitely not friends with them, but…” Nemuleki hesitated to continue. She was visibly uncomfortable talking on equal footing with a Colonel.

“Don’t make me guess Officer, no suggestion is too outlandish right now.”

“I think it’s a sucker.” She said, “The fact that it was roaming free during the raid, when it doesn’t understand any language? I think the Vorak let it out. Why? I have no idea, but it can’t possibly be a coincidence. Some Rak in charge tried to get clever, and now it’s spun out of control.”

“The Adepts your reports detail… it wouldn’t have been easy to mobilize them.”

“They scrambled a team after us, specifically, even after we brought down the tunnel. It couldn’t have been an ordinary team either. Four Adepts ready to track targets through mountainous terrain? They were specialists.” Nemuleki said. “Whatever Caylab is to them, the fur-fish want it back bad .”

Serralinitus understood what she meant, possibly even better than she did. He was privy to a handful of Coalition reports speculating on the contents of some of the Korbanok labs. Judging how jealously the Vorak liked to guard their secrets…

“You think they’ll try to reclaim the alien? Even if it’s here?”

Nemuleki nodded, “Yes sir. They won’t just come once either. I think they won’t stop as long as they think there’s a chance to stop us from learning what it knows.”

Serralinitus scrutinized the young officer. Her tone didn’t match her words. She didn’t sound worried. She sounded like she anticipated the confrontation.

“They might come after you too, if they identify you. You’re not worried?”

“No sir.” Nemuleki said, “I know it’s above my pay grade, but something like this? Caylab? The Rak are desperate about it. It probably won’t be me, but someone can make them bleed for that.”

The Colonel nodded slowly. It seems she wasn’t such a conventional Casti after all.

·····

The last one was…Tasser.

He had one of the best service records Serralinitus had ever seen. Eight active missions as a counter-Adept with three confirmed kills. Casti counter-Adept tactics had come a long way in the century since they first had to devise answers to soldiers that could weave matter out of thought. Even so, their survival rates were pitifully low.

Serralinitus’ own counter-Adept teams were exceptional, and only one of them boasted a confirmed kill count above one.

According to his file, Tasser hadn’t just gotten lucky either. All three were from different missions. At first glance, it seemed like that was the most impressive part of his file, but what caught Serralinitus’s eye was the number of missions.

Eight missions as a counter-Adept, seven of which had been successful. That was the more impressive metric. Being able to kill an enemy Adept was valuable, but being able to accomplish goals regardless of the Adept’s presence was the real value.

Tasser’s efficacy in his service record read more like an Adepts than several of the actual Adepts Serralinitus commanded.

So why was he ranked only as Raho , the lowest officer rank?

Serralinitus turned the page and saw a certain notation code under ‘psycho-social-evaluation’ section.

He scowled.

His people could be idiots.

But after reading the file, Serralinitus was convinced that even if the APS code were correct, it wasn’t something holding Tasser back, likely the opposite.

“I’m impressed.” He admitted.

Tasser didn’t blink, simply remaining seated across the Colonel’s desk. Serralinitus realized he probably wouldn’t speak unless directly addressed or posed a question. Had the Officer’s lips pursed for a second? He’d forced himself to stay silent against his first instincts.

I wonder why that was ingrained? he wondered, wryly.

“Not many Casti would stay silent while I looked through their service record right in front of them.” He continued.

Still, Tasser sat expectantly, watching the Colonel.

Oh, yes. Someone ranking snapped at you for speaking out of turn, enough for you to learn.

His people could be exceptional idiots.

“Does it bother you that I’m reading your file?” Serralinitus asked plainly.

“No, sir.” Tasser replied.

“Do you care to elaborate?”

“No sir.” Tasser said.

“Please elaborate anyway.”

“I think you’re wondering if I feel criticized or under scrutiny, because you’re personally reading our records. I don't feel criticized, and I am under scrutiny.”

Serralinitus nodded, conceding that last point. All their actions would be reviewed thousands of times. It was hard to say where on the chain of command would receive the most criticism.

“Because you brought an alien that no one has ever seen before to our doorstep.” Serralinitus supplied, trying to disarm Tasser’s tension.

“Our commander was adamant that it should stay out of Vorak hands.” Tasser said.

“Assuming things are as they appear, your commander would be correct. And yet…”

Tasser seemed to relax enough to pick up the implication.

“You don’t think this alien is what it appears to be.” He deduced.

Serralinitus hesitated, “I’m not sure what to think. Evidence is thin right now. We’re either looking at a bomb about to go off in the form of an actual First Contact event, or we’re staring down the barrel of a Vorak spy insertion that’s so perfectly implausible, it can’t be dismissed.”

“I already submitted my formal report, sir.” Tasser said, “Is it really necessary to talk with us directly?”

“Like I said, evidence is thin. The three of you have exposure to it. What’s your judgement of the thing?”

“I’m not finding myself to be particularly objective, sir.” Tasser admitted, “It saved my life, at great risk of its own, for seemingly no other reason than because I was the one that talked with it.”

“But it did save your life.” Colonel Serralinitus confirmed.

“It did.”

“Then I still want to hear your recommendation.” Serralinitus said, “biased or not, I want it.”

Tasser stared at the Casti without blinking. It seemed like he might be trying to stare his way into the Colonel’s mind.

“…You have no idea what to do. Do you?” Tasser said quietly. “It’s why you’re asking for our advice. You have no more clue how to handle this than we did.”

“This alien could die immediately, crumble to dust, and never affect anything more. But even then, it’s already too late.” Serralinitus had a hollow note in his voice, it was the faintest hint of fear in the soldier. “Even if it is an imposter, just knowledge, even the mere rumor of its existence is going to shift events on a galactic scale.”

“I think we need to wait.” Tasser said.

“Oh?” Serralinitus mumbled. It was certainly a safe answer.

“You want my advice with it? I say take things slowly.” Tasser shrugged. “I think the likelihood it’s genuine far outweighs the chances of Vorak manipulation. So, focus on one problem with it at a time and follow procedure. It’s presence intuitively inspires panic, but we don’t have enough information to justify any drastic actions. It’s tempting to try and take definitive action because we convince ourselves that if we do nothing, something worse will happen.”

It was odd, hearing such a conservative, classical Casti response from such a perfectly unconventional Casti. And yet, Serralinitus still found himself agreeing.

“Is there anything in your time with the alien that’s generating this advice?”

“Not on its own.” Tasser admitted. “The alien actually seems high strung and impulsive. But I’ve been thinking about what I did remember of First Contact procedure, and the thing I keep coming back to is retroactive comprehension.”

“It will understand everything we do eventually…once communication is established.” Serralinitus recalled.

“The first breakthrough I made with it was explaining the quarantine. It wasn’t easy, but once it knew the word for germs it got a lot more cooperative. I think it was intelligent enough to know we weren’t trying to kill it.”

“The Warlock thought it was intelligent too. Enough that she was worried about the security risk.”

Tasser weighed that. “Nai is… not incorrect. But I don’t think it realizes how dangerous it is. It’s plainly obvious it hasn’t been Adept long, but I still think we should do everything we can to avoid antagonizing it.”

“It could still be a Vorak agent.” Serralinitus pointed out.

Tasser smirked, “I watched it refine a relatively simple Adept power for hours, it saved my life at least twice against trained Vorak Adepts. When it landed on the planet, it didn’t know why it was suffocating. Everything it has done screams ignorance to me. If it is some kind of agent? It has no idea.”

Serralinitus gave his fellow a knowing look, “It wouldn’t be the first time the Rak pulled a trick like that.”

Tasser leaned forward for the first time, a little more engaged now. Of course hearing more about classified Vorak Adepts would catch the attention of a counter-Adept specialist.

“You’re in an unenviable position, Raho Tasser,” Serralinitus said, “None of you are, but you and Raho Nemuleki especially. You’re careers are likely going to be shaped by having encountered this alien.”

“I’m not in the Coalition for a career.” Tasser said plainly.

“Why are you then?” Serralinitus asked.

“Are you ordering me to share why I signed up?”

Serralinitus regarded the young Officer for a moment. For a moment, the Colonel understood why his file had been marked. He quickly dismissed the thought. It was a darkly uncharitable thing to think about any Casti, even more so for a soldier as dependable as Tasser seemed.

“No,” Serralinitus said, “But you should be prepared to be one of the people assigned to work with, learn about, and otherwise generally interact with the alien.”

Tasser nodded slowly. The news was not unexpected to him. He’d already given this some thought and realized something similar.

“Moving on then, the Adepts you encountered. Tell me more about them. I’m in utter disbelief that you encountered anybody east of the tunnel, much less four Adepts.”

“Well, the alien was actually critical when we ran into the first one…” Tasser continued.

They were all in for a long night.

·····

Two days, and endless questions later, Dyn still hadn’t cleared them from quarantine. Serralinitus wasn’t about to countermand his medical officer on this.

Even after follow-up discussions, the Colonel was ultimately disappointed in what little he’d gleaned from the three of them.

He understood the basic chain of events.

The team ran into an alien during the raid, brought it with them in their escape and fought, evaded, and slipped past every Vorak between them and friendly territory, with no small amount of help from the same alien.

But none of them actually knew that much more than he did, which was nothing. Any insight they had into its behavior was simply undependable and they all knew it. As things stood, he needed to make countless decisions about it, blind. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Serralinitus was a Colonel in one of the largest interstellar militaries ever raised. There were maybe ten people in the star system that held any semblance of authority over him.

And these decisions were still so far beyond him.

What was he supposed to do? It would be another week before even a short broadcast window opened to contact Paris and Admiral Laranta. Even then, was just one Admiral enough to actually steer a First Contact scenario?

Already, there were whispers around the base around the team that had rolled in. Even if he got to clear the Coalition heads from quarantine, there were only three of them. The grunts that had seen the group’s entrance might have missed that one of them was a new alien, but they hadn’t missed that there was a fourth occupant.

Even without considering the alien, there was only so long they could keep their new arrival’s quarantine secret. They had arrived conspicuously, and his own soldiers would start to wonder where they wound up.

Those were the immediate concerns. But it wouldn’t be long before the Vorak came poking around. Even if the pursuing team had given up the chase, there were only a handful of safe destinations for Coalition troops to flee.

The Demon’s Pit generating station was one of them.

But Serralinitus had been too optimistic. He thought he’d be able to address his problems in order. Some naïve part of him had hoped the alien’s arrival would be the worst part. That, everything afterward might slowly improve as they communicated more with it.

Instead, his aide poked their head in the door.

“Borough limits just reported two Rak convoys. Estimated at least a hundred heads between them,” they said.

Serralinitus took a deep breath. It was during moments like these that he earned his commission.

He’d been fortunate leading up to the Korbanok raid. The Rak had been hesitant to try worming their way into the province. What few attempts there had been were repelled easily. None of them had been relatively recent…so, they were overdue.

The Vorak were coming in force, likely having exploited the lull in action over the last few weeks. They were probably stuffed to the gills with scouting intelligence.

This offensive would be an informed one, a carefully planned counterassault for the raid.

Demon’s Pit was under attack.

The Vorak wanted their alien back.