Long we have known of the humans, and it is written that they are the other children of the Ancients, our brother race, destined to share the Portals with us and explore the universe at our sides. But they are different from us as well as similar, and in this lies their peril…and ours. For where Tegeri seek individualism and freedom for personal reflection and the pursuit of intellectual growth, most humans crave, above all things, each other’s acceptance. They are quick to subvert their own judgment and morality to those who would lead them, to recklessly surrender their most basic freedoms. We came to know of this strange susceptibility firsthand when we visited their world centuries ago.
Gods they came to call us, though we had gone to them as brothers and counsellors only, to guide them as they built their civilization, to hasten the day when they could join us and explore the Portals. Blind we were for centuries to the effect we had upon them, for such is utterly alien to the Tegeri mind. When at last we saw what we had done, we left them, returned to our world to allow them to grow and mature and build their civilization free of our influence. Yet never did they change, for their history is written in the blood of the victims as they rallied to one evil, unworthy leader after another. We shall never know, perhaps, how much blame we bear for exacerbating this trait…how much responsibility we carry for the centuries of tyranny and oppression the humans have suffered.
“Taylor has been opposed by human forces with the same enhanced capabilities his own soldiers possess.” There was concern in T’arza’s voice, and uncertainty. “I greatly fear he may be defeated before he reaches Earth.”
The Council was assembled again in the Great Cavern, the ancient meeting place that had hosted such gatherings since the dawn of Tegeri civilization. The cavern was lit by hanging pots, filled with burning rocks, the red and yellow flames casting an eerie glow on the stone walls and dazzling crystal formations hanging from the ceiling far above.
The First of the Council bowed his head slowly. “Indeed, T’arza, your concerns have great merit. Yet, I do not know what we can do to assist Taylor. His mission is far more expansive than simply reaching Earth. He must enlighten his people to the truth about their leaders. He may utilize force in this effort, yet he cannot ultimately succeed only by strength of arms. He must persuade millions of his kind, a task that would become impossible if he were seen as our tool. Our overt aid would serve Taylor’s enemies more surely than it would assist his forces.”
T’arza bowed his head in acknowledgement of the First’s wisdom. “All you say is truth, Honored First. Yet, I must then ask, what next if Taylor fails, if his forces are destroyed on Juno and the Earth government is triumphant and entrenched in its power?”
“Then, T’arza, we will have little choice.” The voice came from the end of the table, from one of the Tegeri who rarely spoke in conference and whose words were always heeded when he did. C’tar was the Grandmaster of the Seminary, the closest thing the Tegeri had to a religious leader. C’tar was old, nearly as ancient as the First One, and his life had been spent in study and meditation. “If Taylor fails, we will be compelled to destroy the humans.”
There was stunned silence in the Cavern. Such a proclamation from the likes of C’tar was unprecedented. The Seminary was an institution dedicated to peaceful study and enlightenment. Genocide was the last thing any of the Council had expected C’tar to suggest.
“C’tar, please enlighten.” The First was as surprised as the others, and he bade the Master of the Seminary to elaborate.
“I speak harshly, for we are come to a time in our history where we must change who we are…or be destroyed without a trace.” The ancient Tegeri spoke slowly, his voice soft and hollow with age. “I speak not of personal destruction, nor the death of any on this Council. Nay, it is nothing so trivial that besets us. I warn instead of the extinction of our entire race, and of the many others that grow and move slowly toward sentience and civilization in the vastness of space. For the Darkness is returning, and there is naught but our strength to stand against it.” The room was silent, all eyes on C’tar.
“Long ago we sought to educate the humans, yet they are different from us, and our efforts met with little success. Quick to follow and pledge their allegiance to those who are unworthy and slow to question what they are told, they proved too susceptible to our influences. They styled us as gods, sought our direction in all things. They worshipped us instead of embracing us as brothers, as teachers. We saw this, yet perhaps too late. We left their world centuries ago, when we became aware of the extent of their malleability, yet we may never know how much blame for their continued susceptibility accrues to us.”
C’tar paused, drawing a deep, raspy breath. “For all of this, I suggest it matters not. For our own actions, we must bear the blame that accrues to us. Yet we have another obligation, a greater one, not only to our race, but to those that will follow us in the ages to come. We must turn back the Darkness or all light in the universe will be extinguished. For all time.”
T’arza felt his spirit sink. He, like all of the elders on the Council, held C’tar’s wisdom above that of all others, even the First. The Grandmaster of the Seminary had spent the long centuries of his life pursuing knowledge for the sake of knowledge, wisdom for the sake of wisdom. He saw truth more clearly than any of the Tegeri…even when such true sight revealed naught but despair.
“The Darkness destroyed the Ancients many ages past, and for all our knowledge and science, we are but children compared to our old mentors. Yet, we must rise to the fight and face the challenge that is coming. We may do so with the humans at our side, as the Ancients intended, if providence so allows, or we may stand alone.” C’tar paused, for it was no easier for him to pronounce a call for genocide than for the others to hear it. “But we cannot stand against the Darkness while the humans also fight us. What chance we have to prevail in the coming struggle, small that it may be, would be lost utterly if we allow ourselves to be caught between two enemies.”
The emotion was heavy in C’tar’s voice, and his gaunt face, gray in the flickering light of the firepots, betrayed his great age. “If we cannot win the humans to our side, if they persist in doing the bidding of their evil and despotic leaders, we must destroy them. To not do so would be to abandon any hope for the hundreds of young species to survive. That is too great a price to pay, even for our brother race.”
The cavern was silent for long moments, each of the elders deep in thought, absorbing the words of C’tar. They all knew the Grandmaster was right, that his wisdom was true. But embracing such a reality was a nearly impossible task for the Tegeri.
Finally, the First spoke. “C’tar is out most learned scholar, our wisest counsellor. His words have reached me, and I concur with his findings.” The First’s voice was grim, the regret thick around his words. “Though I feel a spear stabbing at my soul at the mere thought of such a crime, we would be all the more damned, our guilt that much greater, were we to allow the Darkness to consume the galaxy because we were too weak to do what had to be done.”
The First looked out over the assembled Council, his once dazzling eyes clouded with age and watery with emotion. “I put forth to this Council the proposal that we accept C’tar’s words, that we resolve to do whatever we must, at whatever cost to our souls, to destroy the Darkness.”
His head moved slowly, and he shared a long gaze with each of the elders present in turn. “Yet, I also believe we must do all that is possible to prevent such from coming to pass, that we take every action at our disposal to aid Taylor in his struggle, to provide whatever covert advice and assistance we may.” He turned his head, his eyes resting on T’arza. “T’arza, my treasured friend and honored member of the Council, I propose that you go to Juno to advise Taylor and to assist him in achieving his victory. I know not what your counsel may achieve to aid his cause, yet I feel we must try.”
Before T’arza could respond, the First held his arms before him and continued, “Are there any others who would speak before this Council?” He paused, but the room remained silent.
The First wore a grim expression. “Then we are resolved. T’arza will go to Juno to aid Taylor…with counsel only.” A long silence. “If such aid is unsuccessful, if Taylor and his people fail and are defeated by their enemies…” The First hesitated again, so difficult were the words he’d resolved to utter. “…if Taylor’s cause is lost then we have no choice. We will destroy the humans as a race.”
The room was silent, every eye on the First as he spoke. After a long pause, he continued, “We find this action utterly repugnant. Our souls shall be scarred for all time if the blood of this brother-species should soil our hands. Yet, the obligation to stand against the Darkness, to hold back this blackest evil, is greater still and more sacred even than our kinship to the humans. Such we owe to those who came before us, the Ancients, wise and proud, who shepherded our race and left us the Portals. Such we owe to those who will come after us, the youngest children of the Ancients, still growing on their own worlds far away.”
The First bowed his head. “Long have I lived, for I am the oldest of our people, and I would have gladly passed on to the Great Next before this fateful decision was forced upon us. Yet, such is unworthy of the First of our people, to seek to avoid responsibility and obligation. I do, therefore, what I must…and may the spirit of the Ancients have pity upon my soul.”
He raised his head slowly, moving his gaze in turn to each of the elders standing around the great table. “It is therefore resolved that if Taylor’s forces are destroyed, we shall unleash our true might on the humans, that the Earth shall be consumed by the fires of the atom and of anti-matter. That the humans shall cease to exist, and naught will remain to testify that they ever lived, save for the charred and radioactive ruins of their world.”
The First gripped the polished stone sitting on the table in front of him. He raised it, and three times he slammed it down, the loud crash echoing through the cavern. “Such is resolved by this Council.” He looked out over the table. “Are there any who oppose?”
T’arza felt the words trying to escape his throat, but he remained silent. The thought of destroying the humans was more than he could be, but they would all die anyway if the Darkness prevailed. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but T’arza, the 80th of his name and the master of his House, stood motionless and remained silent.