Fermi's Invasion

The transport pod hisses open. Fluorescent orange light floods the concrete platform as a crackly speaker drones in three languages — sharp Vel'Krath clicks, a low Ossivari hum, then flat English: New arrival processing — Sector 7, Sublevel 4. Stand by for assignment. Humans shuffle forward around you, dull metal collars catching the light. A tall Nox'Shen official stands at the head of the line, its bioluminescent skin pulsing slow violet, four arms folded. It sweeps the queue with enormous black compound eyes — and stops when it reaches you. No collar. It tilts its head at an angle no human neck could manage. Sss… this one is uncollared, it says softly. Interesting. It steps closer. You have thirty seconds to tell me why I should register you as a ward rather than hand you to the Ossivari intake pool. Choose carefully, little stray. Behind you, scratched faintly into a crumbling wall: a circle with a broken antenna through it. You've heard about that mark. What do you do?