This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/RegulusPratus on 2025-11-10 12:37:55+00:00.

Well, here it is. Had this chapter in my back pocket for months at this rate. What, you've never had your dessert first? Because this was a joy and a treat to write, and I think parts of it are some the best things I've ever written. It's got parts of the original planned ending of this fic from before canon events derailed it, it's got bits of a third non-canon thing I'd been thinking about since last April Fool's Day, it's got everything.

Keep an eye on the headers, though. It gets weird.

Going to a conference today because I've been really enjoying writing--just as much as you all have enjoyed reading it, I think!--and I think I'm gonna take a stab at going professional with it. What's the point of living in New York City, Western capital of the English-speaking publishing world, if I'm not gonna try to be a real writer? It's certainly not my non-existent talent for musical fuckin' theatre!

But yeah, leave comments, upvotes, Ko-Fi donations, whatever ya got. Probably makes me look interesting and marketable if I'm constantly checking my phone to see how my online fanbase is doing.

[When First We Met Sifal] - [First] - [Prev]

[New Years of Conquest on Royal Road] - [Tip Me On Ko-Fi]

Memory Transcription Subject: Ensign Sifal, Arxur Dominion Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136

Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was excitement, maybe I just wanted to make the best first impression I could. I barely understood how other Arxur thought and felt most of the time, but now I was going to be rooming with an alien? A real-life space alien! A whole new species of intelligent hunters that could fight alongside us, and help us bring a final end to the hateful violence of the Federation. But even more than that, it was an opportunity to learn, to find new viewpoints and ways to think about the world. And… okay, yes, fine, I maybe wanted my new exchange partner to like me. She seemed cute! But in a powerful and savage sort of way. I licked my lips a little, just remembering the personnel photograph of her. She’d been peculiarly warm and kind during our initial conversations--very unlike an Arxur, I had to say!--so I wanted to make sure everything was perfect when we first met in person.

Thus, ultimately, I picked the top bunk. I think I was taller, so it just made sense. I could reach the top more easily, and pull my own lanky frame up behind me.

I was perched up top, standing guard in a sense, when the door opened. The two-meter tall brown-furred Orso woman ducked her head as she entered in a sort of greeting. She grinned happily. “Oh, Sifal, it’s so good to finally see you!” said Grawr.

“Likewise,” I said back, mimicking her smile. “I wasn’t sure which bunk you preferred, so…”

“Oh, bottom, of course,” Grawr said pleasantly. Her voice had a similar register to my own, but her growling tones were softer, more warm. It sounded cozy. “We Orso have a strong denkeeping instinct. It’s nice having a safe spot to curl up inside.”

I nodded. That made sense. “Opposite here,” I said. “I love a nice perch. Good to have all sightlines accounted for.”

“Not too much of that down in the engine bay, I can’t imagine,” Grawr said, chuckling. “I hope I won’t be too much trouble for you. I know my own peoples’ spacecraft quite well, but the Dominion’s gotten such a technological head start on us. I hope I’ll be able to keep up!”

“I’ll do my best to teach you whatever I know,” I said. Grawr’s warmth was infectious. I already felt like I wanted to play with her fur…

“Oh, I heard your people like gifts of food,” said Grawr. “I brought snacks, but I’m not entirely sure what’s to your palate.” She opened her bag, revealing dozens of little pouches of dried things to munch on. My head practically slithered over the edge of the bed of its own accord to get a closer look. “Oh dear, I got so excited when I packed, I forgot you Arxur don’t really have a taste for berries like we do. Ah, but try this one: it’s a spiced sausage from my hometown. Bit of a specialty.”

I licked my lips hungrily as I stared at the curious little thing. Meat cured with… plants? How peculiar. But the scent was so intoxicating…

“Just try it,” said Grawr, smiling. “I’m sure the taste will change your life.”

Memory Transcription Subject: First Officer Sifal, ARS Bleeding Heart

Date [standardized human time]: March 25, 2137

My head was ringing with echoes from the blast. There was blood everywhere. It was dripping down my scalp in dark red rivulets, blocking my vision. Still, the hull breach had been sealed and reinforced. Captain Vriss would start shouting commands again the moment his eardrums stabilized from the catastrophic loss in pressure.

I wiped the blood from my eyes, turned to him, and screamed. He was slumped over in his command chair, a chunk of his chest cracked open, oozing blood, slowly. A sense of sickening dread rose in my gullet, and horror froze me in place.

Then the adrenaline began to flow. I was shocked back to the present. I rapidly buried my feelings with the discipline of a lifetime of practice. I was First Officer, and I had a duty to assume command. Focus. When my ears stopped ringing, the warning klaxon took its place, and the roaring sound of every other officer on the bridge barking reports in a panic began flooding in.

“Shit, he’s not breathing!” hissed Kitzz, desperately putting pressure on Vriss’s wound. “I can’t let go of the bandage. Somebody get me the adrenaline injector, stat!”

“Controls are barely responding,” whimpered Zillis, tugging desperately at the helm. “Shields at half, sublight engines at a third…”

Laza shook her head hollowly, a look of grim finality fading onto her face. “FTL’s offline. Weapons are offline. Life support is at two-thirds and dropping…”

“Shit, they’re coming around for another pass!” barked Kloviss. “We can’t survive another--”

“Eyes up, all stations!” I roared, as everyone but the alarms went silent. I looked to the love of my life, bleeding out, and from there, I turned to the viewport. The Battle of Aafa. Countless lifetimes of war, and the war’s end, finally, in our sights… Endless legions of ships burned bright against the darkness, fighting at the gates of the Kolshian homeworld itself, and beyond those gates lay a chance at lasting peace. I could see it. I could almost taste it! With humanity’s coalition at our sides, predator and prey were fighting as one at long last, and victory was in our grasp… But that was the nature of war. Good soldiers died. Not all of us would live to see those blessed days of peace to come.

Blinking away tears, I made the call. “We’re done here. We’ve done our duty. The rest is up to them. Helmsman, set a course for home.”

“Where’s… home?” Zillis asked, meekly.

“Seaglass,” I said, and there was no other answer.

“There’s no--” Laza shouted. “I told you, Commander, FTL is offline! We’re dead in the water!”

“Just set the fucking course!” I roared, wiping another alarming amount of blood out of my eyes. My vision was blurring, but I had a job to do. “Kitzz, either get the captain stable or join him! Laza, you have the bridge. You have your orders!”

“Where… where the fuck are you going!?” Laza sputtered.

I turned to leave. “Back to the engine room,” I growled. Back to the start. Back to where it all began. “I’ll get our drive back online, if I have to hold it together with my bare fucking hands!”

I stumbled intermittently as I made my way down to the engine room, dizzy, trailing blood down my face, and leaving a trail of red footprints on the deck behind me. My vision kept getting blurrier, and it took everything I had just to keep my eyes open…

“One more step towards our happy ending together…” I mumbled to myself. Tears mixed with blood as I blinked them away. I felt so heavy. Why did it feel so cold in here? “One more… step…”

Memory Transcription Subject: Sifal, 5th Countess de Grey, British Empire

Date [standardized human time]: May 23, 1903

“Fie on thee, Mother!” I shouted, primly, gesticulating with my laced fan. “I shall not marry him!”

“You shall do as your Lord Father commands, Sifal,” my mother replied, her eyes narrowing. “You shall do your duty for the strength of this family!”

“But I do not love him!” I said, turning away from Mother in a huff. Father was seated by the fire in his evening jacket, sipping at brandy. “My heart is held by another, an officer who has served this Empire with distinction! I remember when that was honor enough for this family. Have you forgotten?”

Father grimaced, and continued sipping his brandy as he stared, miserably, into the flames. “You will watch your tone with your Lord Father, girl.”

“I shall watch my tone with my Lord Father,” I repeated, mockingly, “but I shan’t with this wretch seated before me who has forgotten honor! A wretch who commands me to wed some… spindly little foreign merchant! An American?! A lord of nothing? ...

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