Aisha Starblazer: Space Racist

Aisha Starblazer stood in the packed spaceport elevator, struggling to not have any racist thoughts about the Mantidraxian in front of her.

It’s not that she was racist against Mantidraxians. After all, some of her best friends at the Academy had been Mantidraxian. Why she even dated a Locustan once, which was practically the same thing!

Wait. Was that racist?

Ding! The elevator doors opened and out filed half the passengers. But not Aisha. And not the Mantidraxian.

It remained before her, its backside a landscape of interlocking chitinous plates, all sickening shades of green and brown. Its scythe-like arms gleamed under the fluorescent lights, no doubt yearning to bathe in the blood of every man and woman trapped in this small metal box. And its wretched mandibles, twitching, shifting, merely waiting for the opportunity to-

Oh, this was unbearable.

As a citizen of the Pan-Galactic Federation, Aisha believed in the prosperity and peaceful coexistence of all races. Except for the Gabagoolanoids, of course, who deserved to be purged to the last, wiped clean from the face of the cosmos. Filthy Gabagoolanoids.

Anyway, Aisha wasn’t racist. She was nothing like Ronald Bigsby, the infamous captain of the USS Venture, recipient of countless sanctions for improprietous conduct against non-human races.

How he hadn’t been court martialed ten times over, she had no idea.

Ding! The elevator stopped at another floor. The remaining passangers exited, leaving only Aisha. And the Mantidraxian.

They now stood side by side. Aisha kept her eyes locked to a single panel on the floor, desperate to stem the vile torrent within.

Why was this happening? As a communications officer for the starship USS Endeavor, she kept up-to-date on all required and optional racial sensitivity training modules. Through a series of hologram exercises, where she lived the countless lives of the oppressor and oppressed, she learned of biases, slurs, and degradations she could hardly fathom.

On many a night, she had been driven to the floor, her body wracked by incoherent sobs.

In the most recent module, she played the role of a shock trooper in the Terran Purity Front, raiding the nests of the Mantidraxian home world.

Horrific, simulated memories forced their way into her mind: the heel of her black boot pushing through the soft foam shell of an egg, crushing the half-formed head of the grub that grew within.

Aisha shuddered. Almost imperceptibnly, the Mantidraxian beside her twitched as well.

She hated this. It was as if that shock trooper now lived inside her, hellbent on carrying out his terrible mission. Where once she was invigorated by the interstellar intercultural interactions that were inherent to her role as an officer, she now felt exhausted. She found herself unable to hold back the odious thoughts that crawled through the folds of her brain like vile, skittering insects.

Dammit! She shouted internally. Now that is racist!

A nausea swept over Aisha as a truly hideous thought occurred: What if there was a telepathic Mantidraxian who could hear her? Who could see the terrible visions in her mind’s eye? What would she do then?

They’d court-martial her for sure.

Wait. A chill swept through Aisha, the hairs of her neck standing on end as the realization dawned: Mantidraxians are telepathic.

Quivering, she glanced to the side. The Mantidraxian remained standing, staring ahead with its unsettling compound eyes.

Can you hear me? She whispered in her mind.

A moment passed.

-Yes- A chittering voice came back. -I can-

“Oh my god!” Aisha put a hand to her mouth. “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-”

-It’s alright- The Mantidraxian turned to her. -More than any other race, you humans seem particularly afflicted by your thoughts-

“Gralinok!” Aisha gasped, recognizing the Mantidraxian in an instant. She was the communications officer of the USS Venture. They had even gone to the academy together.

Wait! I can tell Mantidraxians apart! Aisha thought, jubuilant with relief. I can’t be racist!

Gralinok’s hissing laugh reverberated in her mind.

“Oh my god!” Aisha put both hands to her mouth.

Stop thinking! Stop Thinking! STOP THINKING!

-It’s alright- Gralinok waved her scythe-like arm. -I was going to say hello but you just kept going and going and-

“I forgot what this was like,” Aisha muttered. “You’re eyes aren’t unsettling and your carapace is a verdant, beautiful green and-”

-Oh stop- The chuckling, chittering voice came back. -I always knew you were a bug-jumper-

The Mantidraxian bumped her shoulder with its massive frame.

“Yeah, haha,” Aisha forced a laugh. “I guess I am…”

Another moment passed.

“Wait!” The human perked up. “You’re on the USS Venture! With Captain Bigsby!”

Gralinok nodded. -That’s right-

“Gosh,” Aisha said. “You have to listen to him all day. He must be thinking thoughts a hundred times worse than mine!”

The Mantidraxian tilted its triangular head. -Not really He mostly tries to work up the courage to ask me on a date-

“Really?” Aisha gawked. “That’s what Ronald Bigsby thinks about?”

-Yes- Gralinok wiggled her antenna in amusement. -Well, that and inseminating me while I devour his head- Ω