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Caitian evaluation of the FederationExcerpt from the Ministry of Diplomacy, Caitian Republic
Evaluation of the United Federation of Planets
Recently one of our starships encountered a vessel from a previously unknown alien race. These aliens represent a larger interstellar alliance known as the United Federation of Planets. From what we have gathered this Federation is a group of around 80 races (as of this entry) spread over several thousand light years of space. The Federation claims to be dedicated to the interests of peace, interspecies cooperation, mutual defense and the exploration of the galaxy.
While the Federation's ideals are not all that dissimilar to our own, we believe that it would still be wise to err on the side of caution. As any good predator knows, one of the simplest (and most dishonorable) ways to catch your prey is to set a trap for them, and the Federation may not be all that it seems.
There are a wide variety of races that are members of the Federation.
Caitian PhilosophyNever kill anything unless you have no choice.
Help strangers, but never let them know too much about you.
Strength comes from unity; the pride is stronger than a lone predator.
Know your prey's weakness but do it no harm.
Loyalty is its own reward.
Offer to assistance wounded prey, do not take advantage of them.
All life has the right to exist by virtue of existing.
Nature is cruel, that dose not mean that we have to be.
Always take an enemy alive if you can.
Sadism is never acceptable, no creature is a trophy.
Only act as a predator out of necessity, never by desire.
There is nothing more precious than life.
You are worth no more or no less than your prey.
Traditions that cause suffering and death are not worth preservation.
It is always a good idea to have someone watching your tail.
Open aggression is always your last resort.
The mind is more powerful than the stomach.
Be calm, but make sure that prey has a healthy fear of you.
Let others know that you can be trusted, never betray
Blue Eyes in FlamesWhen the prince sees the flower bloom from the palm of her hand, he orders her arrest.
She is only seven years old.
He takes the flower from her and keeps it, even though he knows he shouldn't. He puts it a vase, or, rather, his servant does that for him. The flower doesn't ever die, even years later.
It's dawn of a December morning, and he's cold. But still, he stands next to his father dutifully and looks at the little girl with blue eyes that are now black from seven nights sleeping on a cold, dungeon floor behind bars. They cut off her dark brown hair during that time. She's tied to the pyre, and there are seven guards around her, holding sharper swords than normal, not that she could get away. There's one man dressed in black holding an unlit torch, with a mask over his face to prevent his death. His father raises his arm, and the torch is lit.
She locks her gaze to his, and he blinks at her. It's like she expects him to prevent it. He couldn't, though, he can't. She scares him, w
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