T’Aral wandered about the lower levels of the Nautilus X, examining the ship’s extensive zoological garden. There were hundreds of varieties of marine creatures, each kept to their own holding tanks for examination until such time as the science team had satiated their curiosity. At that time the specimens would be returned to their place of origin, assuming they were healthy enough to do so. Those who were not able to do so were returned to the environment in other ways – the most typical being released into other tanks to supplement the diets of the other specimens. Not wishing to be a bother, T’Aral continued on alone until she was stopped. “You are Doctor T’Aral of the Comanche Creek? I am Doctor Moressey – lead investigator of the Nautilus X.” “Live long and prosper, Doctor.” T’Aral nodded agreeably, then paused. “Am I to assume that there are nine other ‘Nautilus’ vessels on Aquarius Major?” “Correctly assumed.” Doctor Moressey began leading T’Aral along a corridor where dozens of transparent tanks cast a luminescent blue glare. “With mobile research laboratories such as this one, we can study the planet’s flora and fauna far more effectively – those of us who aren’t indentured into mining support or material transportation.” “It is the hazard of any vessel – to be used in a manner which it was not intended.” T’Aral stopped next to a tank, gazing into the depths of it while observing the twining tendrils of dozens of jellyfish. The species provided a haunting display, their stranded tentacles forming a kind of marine forest. Yet there was a different feature which caught her attention: a flashing phosphorescence which lined the rim of the creature’s cap. “Doctor – what is the purpose of the illumination?” “Purpose? I don’t believe it has a purpose, other than a neural reflex which happens to draw prey.” Moressey gestured to the creatures. “These are Aquarian Discomedusae, or ‘Disco Angels’ as the locals call them. The light they give off is actually quite intense. Here …” He turned off the tank lighting, allowing the jellyfish light to show properly. “The light attracts all kinds of marine animals, which get snared by the tendrils.” “So it is a deliberate act?” “Doctor T’Aral – Medusae have no central nervous hub. They are non-responsive: to even call them animals is a concession to their physical structure. They have no brain in which to think.” Moressey’s brow furrowed. “Why – do you have some reason to believe otherwise?” T’Aral stared at one jelly in particular, focused on the flashing luminescence. One … two … three … five … seven … eleven … thirteen … “Doctor: I assume that contact with the creatures is not permitted.” “Well, there’s no rule about it - it’s just that they’re poisonous. The crowns are safe, but they’d have to be touched underwater to prevent damage to their membranes.” He turned to her, gazing incredulously. “Are you planning to keep one as a pet?” “No doctor …” T’Aral began to walk down the corridor, seeking a means to the tank’s upper surface. “I wish to determine if it’s appropriate to contain them at all.” **** An hour later T’Aral sat in the ship’s commissary, sipping tea while facing a baffled, slightly babbling Doctor Moressey. “If I hadn’t have seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it. They’re … sentient?” She nodded. “The ‘neural ring’ you identified is the structure of their brain. They are intelligent – though the nature of that intelligence is unknown.” “But … how do they communicate? How did they speak to you?” “They did not speak … directly, and I cannot verify that I understood them. I noted that one of the creatures was illuminating in a sequence of prime numbers. This suggested deliberate control and intelligence. I simply tapped back its sequence, indicating that I understood that its actions were deliberate. That was how I predicted its actions for you.” Moressey was visibly shaken. “For us to capture a sentient species, to invade their world as we have …” “… would likely be of little consequence to them. They are still Discomedusae, after all. So long as responsible care is taken not to disrupt their environment, I would expect that they would care little about your presence or actions.” She sipped her tea slowly. “I would, however, make a point of improving their containment … perhaps introducing a greater variety of species into their surroundings, generating a more natural state.” The doctor nodded in agreement. “It would take some doing, but it’s better than the alternative. Excuse me, please.” As Moressey left, T’Aral pondered all she had learned and the situation she was in. She could not reveal exactly how intelligent the creatures were; that would bring up a number of uncomfortable questions regarding how she came to that knowledge. There was no word for what they were – they had no word for themselves as individuals or as a race. The closest word T’Aral knew for them was ‘Etwel’ … or ‘We’. They were completely alien in thought: not simply in a fatalistic nature, but their thoughts were entirely existential. As beings without sight, hearing, or any reliable means of outward perception, they had no concept of their own world – much less the influence of beings outside of that world. They were a collective mind, the personality of which was influenced by the individuals within that group. They had no desire for anything until the day of their capture. Sensing the tricorder scans of them as a form of communication, they sought to communicate in reply. She sipped her tea again; they were vastly intelligent, but entirely without purpose. They had no means of perception, and no means to affect the world around them. Their intellect would never develop beyond the metaphysical explorations they were engaged in, nor was it possible for it to. T’Aral had kept her empathic senses limited, and she was confident in her choice to do so. There was no point to a jellyfish knowing what it was to have her senses. It would be an experience it could not relate to, any more than T’Aral could relate to the infinite emptiness of their existences. She had done enough: the colony would be made aware that the ‘angels’ were sentient and were to be respected as such, and Doctor Moressey would increase the variety of food for his subjects. It was the only thing they wanted … the only thing they were capable of wanting. Freedom was a concept that they had no way to understand.