The Transformed 00: Rising from the Rubble

by Trent Roman

Lieutenant Banevern investigates the fortress in the Obrig Mountains, and finds Administrator Osan badly wounded. Based on Micheal Jan Friedman's Star Trek: The Next Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X".

Disclaimer: A large portion of the characters and settings in the Transformed series are based on Micheal Jan Friedman's Star Trek: The Next Generation / X-Men crossover novel "Planet X", and are used without permission. This is done solely for entertainment purposes, and is not intended for profit or to undermine the fine work of Friedman, Paramount or Marvel. Star Trek: The Next Generation belongs to Paramount. X-Men belongs to Marvel. Osan, Rahatan, Tollit, Tessa Mollic, Xhaldia, Verdeen, Bellos, Cadriil and Obrig belong to Friedman. The rest are mine. The following prologue takes place during the events of the novel, only following Administrator Osan instead of the Transformed.

THE TRANSFORMED

Prologue: Rising From The Rubble

Trent Roman

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Administrator Osan Efah (Xhaldian male from Verdeen)

Rahatan Beag (Transformed male from Shupaar)

Corporal Onjia Wasd (Xhaldian female from Verdeen)

Security Minister Tollit (Xhaldian male from Bellos)

Lieutenant Afio Banevern (Xhaldian male from Verdeen)

Wove Erun, Medic (Xhaldian female from Verdeen)

Tessa Mollic (Transformed male from Cadriil)

Doctor Wriu Seriss (Xhaldian female from Verdeen)

Kjow Binjic, Assistant (Xhaldian male from Verdeen)

The Fortress in the Obrig Mountains

One year after "First Contact"

"This must stop!" Osan Efah called out, running onto the battlements of the old fortress. In the interior yard hedged off by the tall walls, the youths who were Osan's charge were wreaking havoc all over the place. Using their abnormal transformations, they had already taken out a goodly number of his guards.

It was no surprise, really. Considering the bizarre abilities that some of them had been endowed with, his guards – in fact, anything short of an army – were ineffective at dealing with the full extent of the Transformed's powers. At first, Osan and the others had hoped that fear – of themselves as much as fear of the guards – would keep the youths in check. After all, these were not criminals, only young men and women who had suddenly developed abilities beyond anybody's understanding.

And they were using those abilities to their full extend, it seemed. As Osan ran along the battlement, he could see the energy-wielders firing luminescent bolts, dropping blue-uniformed guards onto the chalky gray stone of the fortress. The twelve-foot-tall man, whose name Osan couldn't remember, swept the battlements clear of his men with a single sweep of his oversized hand. Another fought with an invisible opponent, and two were firing down into the yard, trying to hit a young woman who had become nothing more than a blur of speed. Osan could see that the guards were going to lose – and fast – if he didn't do anything.

"We need to speak, not fight," he called out. He then gestured to his guards to hold their fire. Hopefully, this gesture of trust would help appease the transformed.

It seemed to work. The yard suddenly fell silent as all combat ground to a halt. However, he noticed that those youths that could control their abilities had not deactivated their powers.

Osan looked down at his charges, making eye contact. His only hope now was to sweet-talk them into remaining peaceful.

"This is insane," he said. "We're not your enemy. We're here to help you – to protect you from the outside world." And them from you, he added silently.

His pleas were met with hooting and shouting from the Transformed.

"We've heard that speech!"

"If you want to help us, open the gates and let us out!"

"Or is it the outside world you want to protect from us?" a youth with luminous eyes called out.

Exactly, kid Osan thought, but he did not say so. Instead, he shook his head in a gesture of denial.

"You've got to trust us. Whatever the problem is, we can work it out together."

"You wouldn't let me contact my parents!" a young man with purple skin and bulging veins accused. Osan scanned the misshapen crowd below him until he found the source, and stared straight at the Transformed as he said:

"Perhaps we can change that policy. Perhaps it wasn't necessary in the first place," Osan lied. Communications blackout was part of his orders here at the old, nameless fortress in the Obrig Mountains. If the general populace of Xhaldia ever learned about the bizarre powers of the Transformed, the government would have mass hysteria on their hands. Already two fatalities had been reported from out of control Transformed abilities, and several near misses. The planet's population was not dumb. They would recognize, just like Osan did, that the Transformed posed an inadvertent but all too present danger to ignore.

"Perhaps you're lying through your teeth!" someone called out. Perspective bunch Osan thought. I must remember that they are strange, but not stupid.

Osan looked through the gathered group to identify this new speaker, and nearly gasped when he saw that it was Rahatan. The hot-headed young man had been responsible for the previous uprising, and damned if Osan didn't think that somehow Rahatan and his cohorts were behind this one as well, despite having been imprisoned and isolated from the rest of the fortress' population.

"You've kept us down and deceived us long enough!" Rahatan shouted, pointing a finger at Osan. "Now it's time to reap what you've sown."

A low rumble began building in Osan's ears, and he realized what was happening a moment before he saw the walls of the fortress begin to shake. Rahatan was using his seismic abilities to collapse the walls. And the epicenter was focused right on his position.

Before Osan could try and leap off the battlements and away from danger, the pavement under him splintered and cracked, and a large chunk of the floor suddenly fell away. Osan tried to leap away, but one leg plunged through a whole were solid stone had been a moment ago. Carried by his momentum, Osan kept on going until his trapped leg stretched to the limit and finally snapped, brutally dropping him to the floor. Unable to move and in a considerable amount of pain, Osan could only watch as the patch of stone he was lying on snapped and fell, taking him with into the inner construction of the battlements.

As the sight of Antiacus shining brightly in the sky was blocked out by debris collapsing down on him, Osan's last thoughts before the darkness swept over him were a burning fury and desire for revenge.

* * *

Verdeen Central Security Office

The next day

Onjia Wasd rested comfortably in her chair, which bothered her slightly. Although the fact that she had nothing to do meant that she was doing her job well, she still felt somewhat restless. She suspected that her need to stay active had been one of the motivations behind her enlisting with the Security Department. Her distaste for idleness and continuous hard work combined to boost her through the ranks until she was already a corporal and in charge of security for all of the city of Verdeen, and still only in her mid-thirties.

The only problem was, there was now very little to do.

She had reorganized the city guard upon taking the position until the administration was as efficient as she was. She had taken care of what little organized criminal activity there was, until the only thing that the local constabularies had to deal with now was petty theft and the occasional homicide. Most of the stuff that passed through her office now was routine paperwork.

Onjia sighed, and brought up one of the local news distributors on her terminal. She was halfway through an article detailing a local sporting event when the text was replaced with an incoming message notice. She activated the receptor and was greeted by the face of Security Minister Tollit.

"Minister," she said. "What can I do for you today?"

"Corporal, we've lost contact with our post at the fortress in the Obrig Mountains yesterday. When Osan didn't send us his daily update as scheduled, we tried to raise the fortress, but to no success. This is rather worrisome, because of the rather sensitive material being stored there, as you know."

"I'll send out a patrol to the Mountains to investigate at once, sir."

"Good. Remember our previous talks concerning their safety, but bear in mind that they have great potential for destruction."

"My officers will be forewarned, sir."

"See to it. Tollit out."

Onjia disconnected from her side of the communication, then patched into the barracks.

"Let me talk to lieutenant Banevern."

* * *

The Obrig Mountains

Shortly thereafter

Afio Banevern gazed at the rather mournful spectacle of the Obrig Mountains flying by the window of his Security hovercar. From a higher altitude, the Mountain chain looks gray and soaring, topped by yearlong snowcaps and shrouded by mists. From up close, they looked earthy and plain.

It only took a short while to reach the fortress thanks to their hovercars. It was an old leftover from the Seven Years War, fought centuries ago when Xhaldia had still been divided into separate governments. Despite it's age, however, it was still operable and sturdy, and made a great isolated outpost.

At least, until yesterday.

Banevern could hardly believe his eyes as he disembarked from his hovercar in front of what had once been the fortress. The entire eastern side of the building had been reduced to rubble strewn about the dusty ground. Unbelievably, when you considered the devastation of the former courtyard, the rest of the fortress was still standing with not a fallen brick or cracked wall to show for whatever disaster had befallen it's eastern wing.

Banevern signaled the rest of his party to draw their stunners. Corporal Wasd, his superior, had informed him that these were no ordinary Xhaldians that he would be dealing with. Apparently, something had happened to them that made some look different from what one would normally expect, and granted most unusual abilities. None of them have had criminal records up to now, but had the potential to be very dangerous. His instruction concerning them had been to use non-lethal force to capture and return to incarceration any Transformed that might have escaped.

And with the walls of the fortress reduced to such much debris, Banevern wondered how they could not have escaped.

Moving low against the ground at the head of his squad, Banevern approached the nearest pile of rocks. Hiding behind an especially large piece of wall, the lieutenant popped out of his hiding place just long enough to scan the area. When it appeared clear that there were no hostiles in the courtyard, he sent the rest of his squad on ahead to the other fallen walls while he kept his own weapon bracketed upon the entryway to the rest of the fortress.

As soon as the other detachments gave the all clear signal, Banevern and his troops moved into the courtyard, keeping their weapons up, alert for anybody they might have missed. However, it soon became clear that this section was long deserted.

Banevern was about to continue inside the fortress when Wove Erun, the squad medic, called out:

"We've got a live one over here!"

Turning quickly to one of his officers, Banevern instructed him to establish a defense perimeter around the entryway but not to go in without him. He then jogged over to Erun's side.

"It's one of ours," she said.

Glancing down, it took a moment for Banevern to locate the man whom the medic was referring to amongst the debris. He wore a blue uniform, like theirs, indicating he was part of the Security Department. From the parts of him that were intact, he looked like a thickset man who worked out regularly.

From the parts of him that weren't intact, however, Banevern could tell that he had been through what looked like a rock storm. He face was gashed in several places, most notably a large wound that split his bronze skin from forehead to lower jaw on his right side. No doubt the debris that had caused the gash was also responsible for the pulpy mess that used to be an eye in his right socket.

Banevern didn't need to be a medic to know that the man's right leg was broke, because he could see pieces of bone covered in purplish blood sticking out from his torn flesh. And Banevern didn't even want to consider what might have become of his left arm, concealed from view by a large chunk of wall that looked like it was resting flat against the ground, as if there was no obstacle between the two.

Banevern returned his gaze to the man's disfigured face.

"It's Efah," he finally said. "Osan Efah, the administrator of this facility. He looks like…" Banevern trailed off, unable to find a suitable comparison.

"Oh… hurts…"

Erun glanced down at Osan in shock, and then looked at Banevern with that look of outrage only a MD could muster.

"He's conscious? Through all that?"

"Give him some painkillers," Banevern suggested.

"And then some," she answered. Actually, she opened her first aid kit and started making careful measurements regarding the dosage. In his condition, even painkillers could send his system into shock.

Osan moaned again, and Banevern leaned down next to him.

"Who did this to you?" he asked.

"Do you mind?" Erun asked. "There will be time for an interrogation later."

Nodding, Banevern began to rise to his feet when Osan reached out with his good arm and grabbed hold of his uniform.

"Was… the Transformed," Osan stammered.

"Lieutenant, you're exciting my patient and I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Erun said sternly.

"Right," Banevern acknowledged. He rose without interference this time, and jogged towards the entrance to the fortress. His men that had been guarding the entrance nodded at him. Banevern returned the nod, and then gestured towards the gaping opening.

The column of soldiers began slipping in. The corridors were gray and dark. Whatever had hit the courtyard must have also taken out the power because the overhead lights were dead, plunging the corridors into shadows.

This fortress had been built in an era where mistrust and deceit were often a part of politics and warfare, and so the pattern of corridors opening themselves to the soldiers was a confusing labyrinth of intersections and cross-passages. Ordinary, Banevern would be able to tell what sections of the fortress were being used by Osan's detachment because the others would not be powered. But with the main circuits apparently offline, it was anybody's guess where to go next.

Banevern decided to split up his group at the first intersection, and then again at the second. When he reached a third branching with only two of his men left backing him up, he decided that they shouldn't risk going off alone in these corridors. It was easy to get lost, or even worse get taken out by an enemy – maybe one of those Transformed things – without anybody else ever noticing.

The three of them descended a flight a stairs and reached an area that looked like a goal from ages past, like one would see in historical holodramas. The first thing Banevern noticed was that the floor had been cracked slightly. The lieutenant immediately flashed to the ruined courtyard.

"Be wary," he instructed his men.

As they took a corner in the series of cells, they came across a group of goals that had been reduced to rubble. There seemed to be at least three that had completely disintegrated, making gaping holes in the masonry through which one could access yet another series of corridors. The two cells on either side of the three ruined ones were slightly cracked, but there didn't seem to be any more damage other than the occasional tremor fault here and there. Again, Banevern wondered what kind of weapon could annihilate centuries of stonework without even searing the surrounding masonry.

Suddenly, he stopped short. He cocked his head sideways, trying to listen for a sound that he wasn't certain he had heard.

Then he heard it again. It was a low, guttural sound, almost like a croaking. He turned to his two officers, who nodded: they heard it as well. Proceeding slowly, carefully, the three men in the blue uniforms slinked along the wall towards the source of a sound. When they had assured themselves that the corridor was clear, Banevern stepped up to the door of the cell from which the sound seemed to be emanating.

The cell door was locked, and he didn't have a key, so Banevern took out a pocket pistol and shot the lock. The small burst of plasma sparked against the old iron, and the door unlatched and drifted open a few centimeters.

Banevern cautiously stepped into the room, sweeping his flashlight across the cell. He had almost come to the conclusion that the cell was empty when the light caught something odd in the last corner of the cell that he scanned. It looked like an ovoid bulge, colored in skin-bronze but rayed with vertical razor-thin black stripes.

Suddenly the shape turned around, and Banevern saw with surprise that the thing was Xhaldian… or at least, used to be. He looked basically humanoid, but aside from the bizarre black marks on his skin he had what looked like sacs on the side of his head, which inflated and deflated like a pair of lungs. His eyes were larger than usual, and they looked unfocused and wild.

Both of his men raised their stunners towards the misshapen man. The Transformed's eyes flashed in the soft light, and before Banevern knew what had happened his men screaming behind him and the lieutenant felt an odd sensation of warmth against his back. He spun around quickly, and saw to his shock two flaming, Xhaldian candles where his men had been moments before. Their uniforms were on fire, and the blaze had quickly spread to their hair and skin. Within seconds, Banevern watched powerless as their features melted and burned in the heat of the localized inferno. Soon there was little left of them except a pile of ashes.

Banevern turned around wide-eyed towards the creature before him. From what he had been told by his superiors, and the devastation he had seen at the courtyard, it was no great leap of logic to deduce that the Transformed crouched in the corner had somehow set his men ablaze without ever going near them.

The Transformed turned its overly large eyes towards him, and croaked out two words:

"Mollic Mollic."

Banevern let both his pistol and stunner drop to the floor, and he raised his hands slowly, well spread to show that he was unarmed.

"What is Mollic?" Banevern asked.

"Mollic," he croaked again, tilting his head at Banevern. "Mollic Mollic."

Banevern began to back away, slowly as to not appear threatening. He didn't know if it was because of whatever transformation the man had undergone, but he seemed to be somewhat disjointed from reality.

The Mollic man rose from his spot in the corner, and since he had apparently decided that clothes were no longer relevant to him, Banevern could see that the thin black stripes went all the way down his body, from head to toe, giving the Transformed a bizarre look as if he was only half there, and half somewhere else.

Mollic began walking towards Banevern. The lieutenant froze, resisting the urge to turn around and run away as fast as he could. Any sudden moves, and the Transformed could set him on fire as easily as he had the two others.

But looking into the man's feral eyes, Banevern wondered if that wouldn't be his fate anyhow.

"Banevern? Lieutenant Banevern?"

Frozen as he was, Banevern didn't turn to see where the female voice had come from. However, it had certainly caught Mollic's attention. The sacs on the side of the Transformed's head began rising and falling more rapidly. He cast one last, accusing glare in Banevern's direction, then quickly ducked out of the cell by the hanging door.

As the black striped man fled down the corridor, two rippling blue bolts lanced out from somewhere out of sight after it. Banevern didn't hear any of the characteristic cries that accompanied a hit by a stunner, so he assumed that Mollic had gotten away.

"Damn. I was never good with these things anyway," Wove Erun's voice floated down to him.

"We have no time for this," a male voice said, sounding both steely and weak at the same time.

Finally able to move again, Banevern walked out of the cell in which two of his men were cremated, and into the corridor. Squad Medic Wove Erun was there, holding a stunner, and with her other arm she supported… Osan?

Despite have just seen two men burned alive with no clear source for the combustion, Banevern was astonished to see Administrator Osan come limping down the corridor, hefting a stunner of his own in his remaining hand. Both his left arm and right leg were clearly unusable, and the right side of his face was a bloody mess. And yet there he stood.

"Should he be walking?" Banevern asked.

"He shouldn't even be breathing, as far as I know," Erun answered. "His adrenaline system has gone completely overboard, which is keeping him alive and able to function. But as soon as it stops pumping – and it will – then there will be nothing to keep him going."

"Which is why we must hurry," Osan said, flinching. "I need you to take me to Seriss Biocybernetics in Verdeen. They can help."

Banvern looked to Erun. "What do you think?"

"I think that even the Chancellor's personal doctors couldn't help him now." She shrugged. "We might as well check it out. Nothing we can do could help him – maybe this company can."

"Yes, they can. But I'm not certain how long I can hold out like this. I need you to take me there."

"We will," Banevern assured the administrator. He slipped his arm under Osan to help Erun support his weight, and the trio began walking back towards the exit.

* * *

Banevern was driving the hovercar heading towards Verdeen's Industrial Quarter while Osan lied on the back seat, with Wove Erun keeping an eye on his vitals. Twilight had settled in as Antiacus sunk behind the Obrig Mountains, giving it an aura of beauty and serenity, when Banevern knew that it was actually the home of destruction and death.

Osan was still conscious, and if he was in any great amount of pain from his lacerations, broken leg and crushed arm, he did not show it. In the rearview mirror, Banevern could see that his remaining eye stared fixedly at the ceiling. The silence in the hovercar was oppressive. It felt like a morgue.

"So," Banevern started, trying to fill the emptiness. "What was that… thing we saw?"

Erun gave him a scorching glare for making her patient talk, but Osan didn't seem to mind.

"One of them. One of the Transformed. A man named Tessa Mollic, clinically insane, and dangerously so, considering that he developed pyrokinetic abilities when he Transformed. But the sane ones are no less dangerous – maybe even more so. Until the last one is wiped out, this planet will always be at risk from their rampant aberrations. We have to exterminate them all."

Banevern flew past the first outlier buildings of Verdeen as Osan fell silent once again. Suddenly, he wished that he had kept his silence before. Ignorance was bliss, as they say, and there was no way he was ever going to be able to rest easily now, knowing what he knew.

* * *

SERISS BIOCYBERNETICS, VERDEEN

Banevern felt like a criminal, slinking around the empty streets of the Industrial Quarter after hours. Having spent most of his adult life with the Security Department, it was not a pleasant feeling.

Seriss Biocybernetics was not a flashy building on the outside, unlike many of the other companies in the Industrial Quarter who made sure they caught the attention of other companies' workers with big script and eye-catching colors and patterns. The lettering on the side of the building was done in a plain type like one might find in the news vids, and was a demure black against the featureless brown of the building.

Banevern fully expected the building to be locked at this late hour, and indeed it was. Osan told them to try an entrance around back.

Antiacus had set, and the alleys between the buildings were engulfed by shadows. Banevern knew it was paranoid to think that some of the Transformed might be lurking in the darkened corners, but he wasn't about to forget his encounter with Tessa Mollic anytime soon.

The back door was raised in the wall, and Banevern and Erun has to struggle to get Osan up the stairs without bumping the wounded areas of his body against the railing or the wall. This door was locked as well, but it was protected by a simple bolt mechanism instead of the lock-down security systems he had seen on the front door. Banevern took out his pocket pistol and fired at the bolt, turn it into slag.

Breaking and entering! the Security Department part of his mind screamed at him, but Banevern quelled it. He'd pay for a replacement lock later.

The door gave onto a gray, dimly lit corridor. Banevern staggered with Osan leaning against him, limping down the corridor.

"Hello? Is anybody here?"

A figure stepped into the corridor from a room beyond. Because of the poor lighting, Banevern couldn't make out any details, but he could tell that the figure was pointing a weapon at them.

"This is private property. Leave now, or I'll be within my rights to shot you."

"Security Department!" Banevern called out as answer.

The figure hesitated.

"Do you have a search warrant?"

Banevern was uncertain what to answer. He was saved from doing so when another figure entered his line of sight, and pushed the first one's gun arm gently downwards.

"It's okay, they can come in. I recognized one on the security monitors."

Banevern frowned. He didn't remember seeing any cameras.

The second figure pressed a button set in the wall, and the illumination rose to its full level. Banevern blinked back against the light, then refocused on the pair at the end of the corridor.

The second figure turned out to be a middle-aged woman wearing the long, unstainable black coat typical of most research scientists. The other was a young man dressed similarly. His face was flushed, and he was now staring at the pistol in his hands as if he didn't know what to do with it.

"I'm doctor Wriu Seriss, and this is my assistant Kjow Binjic," the woman said, stepping forward and motioning at the young man. "Now, why did you come here, Osan?"

Seriss stopped short as she got a better view of Osan and his injuries.

"Blood of the ancients, what happened to him? Kjow, get the stasis chamber prepped and ready, now!"

The young assistant jogged off, and Seriss turned back towards the trio in the corridor.

"Come with me," she said, leading the way. Soon, they had left the corridor and entered a room of massive proportions. It was easily half the size of the building, and bristled with all kinds of odd-looking machines, protruding from walls and mechanical stands like a technological abstract sculpture.

Conduits of energy ran along the ceilings, walls, and through the equipment. The power inside pulsed and crackled, lending the entire complex a bluish tint. The glow was a little eerie, Banevern admitted.

Kjow was leaning over a large cylinder in the center of the mess of machines.

"It's ready to go," he said.

"Good," Seriss answered, reaching the cylinder's height. The top was transparent and slid off when she pressed a series of buttons on a side panel. "Help me lower him in there."

Banevern and Erun placed Osan inside of the chamber. He had finally lost consciousness, and had become dead weight. Whatever it was that these people were supposed to do, they had best do it fast.

The cover slid back over Osan's lying form.

"Release the valve!" Seriss called out. Further away, standing on a raised platform, Kjow turned a metal circle around. There was a slight hissing of air, and the pulse of the energy in its conduits seemed to speed up.

Banevern watched as the cylinder with Osan inside began to fill with a blue, gelatinous liquid.

"What is that stuff?" he asked.

"Biomnemonic gel. It will completely surround him, and the electrical energy contained inside can be programmed to act as a biological agent of our choosing. This stuff has been designed with neuronal and cellular transmission in mind, so that it effectively acts as an extension of the patient's body, communicating information from the deepest internal organs to the receptors aligned on the side of the chamber at blindingly fast speeds and without regards for boundaries like skin. The gel and the patient consequently become like a single organism. Thanks to it, we can regulate all of his characteristics like heart rate, hormonal output, brain activity, blood sugar level, whatever. So no matter how extensive his… injuries are, we can keep his heart pumping and his brain oxygenated and functioning."

Erun looked up, fascinated but also puzzled.

"How come I've never heard of this before?" the medic asked.

"It's still in the experimental stages," Seriss answered.

Banevern found her voice was a little off, and remembered the assistant questioning him about a search warrant.

"Exactly how legal is all of this, anyway?" he asked.

"It's still in the experimental stages," Seriss repeated icily. "This will be our first human trial. Technically, we're supposed to consult with the Science and Medical Departments before performing experiments on anything smarter than a rodent, but these are extenuating circumstances."

Seriss glanced back at Osan, who has now half immersed in the biomnemonic gel.

"How do you know Osan? You said you recognized him."

"Of course. He's my cousin. And, he's also an investor in this company. Since we've always been close, I've kept him up to date on all the developments here. Which is how he knew that we could keep him alive where traditional medicine would fail." She shook her head. "What happened to him?"

Banevern hesitated, unsure about how much of the Transformed he should reveal to her.

"He was caught in a rock slide," he said, figuring it was close enough to the truth.

"My Osan? I find that very hard to believe. He's always been a prudent and stalwart man."

"Well… let's just say that I doubt that the causes of the rock slide where natural."

Seriss nodded in understanding.

"I hope you catch the bastards that did this, and take them out."

Looking at the shattered body of Osan, now fully immersed in the gelatinous blue liquid, Banevern found himself in complete agreement with her.

Endnotes: Just to clear things up for those who might not have read the novel, the Transformed are actually the heroes of the series, save for a few rogue elements like Rahatan and Mollic. All the characters in this prologue (save Wasd and Tollit) are going to end up as antagonists to the main cast. The reason they don't appear as obvious 'bad guys' is because I believe that conflict in situations like these arise from differing points of view, and I wanted to illustrate this by making my opponents human (well, Xhaldian) and rational, with motivations that are important to them. Thanks for reading!