Prove Me Wrong – When a Human Ambasador Confronts The Galactic Union [Short Sci-Fi Story]

The human ambassador slowly stood to his feet, all eyes of the Galactic Union representatives turning their gaze upon him, all the media drones from the various news outlets focused in on his face. There were bags under his eyes and he kept a hand on the table in front of him as if worried he might not be able to stand firmly with the support. This gathering had not been scheduled and the members only assembled at the behest of the human. The request was simple and polite, it merely asked for a short time to address the representatives and assured the recipients that the matter was not dire and if they could not attend there would be no issue. But they had all come. They had all come because they had been reminded time and time again that if you ignored humanity’s whispered words, you would not be able to block out it’s roar.

“I apologize if I’m not quite as eloquent as I usually am, but the last few days have brought sleepless nights in their wake. As much as I am here as a representative for my species, I must confess that my next words come from me as an individual though I sincerely hope that they resonate with the collective consciousness of my people.”

He took a deep breath and released an even deeper sigh before continuing, as if what he had to say was physically straining and the weight pressing him down would only be lifted when he said what he needed to.

“I am afraid. Not of conflict. Not of destruction. These concepts have been with my kind since the beginning and they will continue to be our faithful companions until we cease to be. I am afraid. Not of tyrants. Not of atrocities. We have seen and rooted out despots and sought to protect the afflicted with all we have no matter who is suffering as many of my colleagues could attest but will refuse to do so out of self-interest.”

His eyes sweep across the room as he pauses, noticeably stopping on the ambassadors of several warmongering species who keep their place in the Union through legal loopholes and technicalities. Many of them winced at his words, having felt humanity’s wrath in the past, not eager to feel that sting again but also unwilling to voice their anger and humiliation lest they be further condemned for the actions that prompted such a painful response to begin with. Others who had yet to test the limits of humanity’s patience or personally experience the breadth of their vengeance simply glared back at him in silent defiance.

“I am afraid…of being right. I am afraid every time another report crosses my desk that suggests the suffering of others because I desperately want to be wrong. I am afraid because every time I am right, a rage burns so deeply within me that I even I can scarcely believe I am the same person when justice is dispensed and the rage has cooled. Something stirs within the collective heart of humanity when we see wrongs being committed, be it amongst ourselves or by those around us. It is something that runs deeper than our genes and I suspect goes even beyond the bounds of our very souls. It is a primal urge, an eternal discontent at even the notion of injustice. It has driven us since the beginning and is the reason we stand proudly among your civilizations today. But it hurts. My God it hurts. During these past few sleepless night I’ve even toyed with the idea that maybe the only reason we fight injustice is to selfishly soothe our own pain. It horrifies me to consider that maybe in the earliest stages of my species existence we could ignore the ache and turn a blind eye to the wrongs around us. That the only reason we finally stopped to help our fellow man or beast was because we let the pain grow until it became unbearable. And that is why I have asked you all hear today. To make a plea. To beg of you that the next time a report crosses my desk, the next time I feel that deep rage stir at the thought of injustice…”

He let his back bend and his other hand join the other to support the weight of his upper body as he leaned heavily upon them as he trailed off midsentence, his head bowed as if the weight he felt before he spoke had somehow gotten even heavier. He was silent for a moment that seemed to stretch on for minutes when in reality perhaps 30 seconds had passed. When he finally lifted his head, the Union Hall, the most secure room in the known universe, was flooded with such a concentrated hostility from this single human that fear responses ran rampant. The ambassadors of the various prey species huddled together and desperately tried to force down the urge to bolt for the doors. The predators bared their fangs, flared their frills, and raised their hackles as they felt the instinct to defend themselves flood their minds.

What stood before them didn’t feel like a human. It felt old. As if a predator from the dawn of time itself had inhabited the body of the man before them, staring out at them from the ancient past.

Nothing had physically changed about the human ambassador, his hands weren’t balled into tight fists, his lips didn’t curl into a snarl, nothing about him displayed any intent of threat. Nothing except his eyes.

The beast that stirred within humanity’s heart stared out through those eyes.

The beast whose hunger knew no end.

The beast who knew no mercy for those it turned it’s fangs against.

The beast stared out at the media drones and the ambassadors and spoke with the human’s voice.

“…Prove. Me. Wrong.”

Republished with permission from the author, Reddit user u/IAmTheHypeTFS. Image created with Stable Diffusion.