Chapter 1
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For decades, humans and a dozen other races expanded through local star systems, competing against each other but never gaining a significant enough advantage to allow one to dominate.
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This continued until the Dominion arrived. A massive ship flew through known space, indifferent to the calls of inhabitants. Making no attempt at first contact, the ship ignored all sentients in its path, passing through every battle line unscathed, and instead dropped a mining station in a white dwarf star. Shortly after, a Dominion base was established in an nearby uninhabited system.
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Confused, the humans and other races continued their attempts to communicate with the obviously vastly superior technology. Other Dominion ships came and went, often under military guard, but paid no attention to the line of ships outside their base and the sublight radio waves they were transmitting.
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Finally, the commander must have gotten tired of seeing ships milling around and built a radio to initiate contact. He didn’t say much other than introducing himself and his race, and that it was their right as Class Two species to have a Dominion ambassador if they requested one. Despite the differences between the assembled aliens, they unanimously agreed.
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A month later, Laen arrived from the Dominion.
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The ambassador from Ultrua waved his tentacles around excitedly in the drab room. On the other side, seated in a comfortable but equally drab couch, the Dominion’s representative sat trying to focus on the words coming from the translator and not the non-sensible tentacle waving.
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Laen nodded enthusiastically, trying to end the conversation. “Yes, ambassador, I agree completely. No, I can’t do that. Not even a little. Yes, as I previously mentioned—“
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His next sentence was a little more excited than she liked and she dodged a tentacle that seemed aimed at her, although the translator on her arm assured her it meant ‘slime accumulated between shower tiles.’
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“Ambassador, I realize Household Artificial Intelligence is your main export. No, I cannot authorize any trade of Dominion technology. Yes, I’m sure they’re very good machines—fine. I’ll take one.”
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She almost immediately regretted agreeing to purchase something, as the Ultruin’s gesticulations became even faster. Laen struggled to keep up with the translator.
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“Again, I can’t offer technology. How about…ah…umm…Gold! I’ll give you thirty tons of gold,” she said, suddenly remembering that the ambassador for the Achrans had promised that exact amount in exchange for a mineral survey of a nearby planet. She didn’t know what the market price for gold was in this sector, but she didn’t care. It was useless to the Dominion after they had moved to subspace quantum technologies centuries ago.
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Judging from the way the Utruin was moving its entire body now, Laen guessed he was getting the better side of this deal.
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“Yes sir, I agree. I’m happy we could come to an agreement. If you’ll excuse me, I have other duties to attend to.” She pointed to the door emphatically, and the ambassador reluctantly began oozing out of the room while continuing to jabber away in his native tongue. Or rather, tentacle.
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“Yes, I’m sure. Wait no, just one. No, one unit, not one shipment.” She slammed the door closed after checking to make sure no tentacles were still inside the doorframe.
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Laen fell on the couch, mildly hoping it would collapse and she would be seriously injured, just to bring some excitement to the day. She hated this. She had a promising career in a completely different field, and suddenly her life was turned around and sent to the darkest corner of the galaxy, just because some knuckle dragging squid who hadn’t figured out how to build nanoscopic singularities requested an ambassador.
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She recognized the flaw in her last thought just as her wrist computer buzzed again. Angrily, she slapped the button. “What?”
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The secretary recoiled on the screen, but remained professional. “Your next appointment is here.”
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Laen forced herself to calm down. It wasn’t the secretary’s fault. In fact, she probably didn’t want to be here any more than Laen did. “Already? Did my last appointment go long?”
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“I’m afraid so.” Laen wasn’t surprised. The Ultruin like to talk. Or punch. Whatever served as communication for his species.
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“Alright send him in. Or her. Or it. Whatever comes through the door.” She ended the call and leaned back on the couch again, silently willing the supports to fail.
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The door opened and a being two meters tall and relatively skinny stepped through. He seemed much more like what a proper sentient should look like. Her own race was not much different, except that she had blue skin. “You must be Laen. I am Bradley Cardot, the representative of the Human…” his voice trailed off as he saw the simple chair opposite the couch where Laen was seated, still covered in slime from the Utruin ambassador.
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“I’m so sorry! Let me get a new one.” She activated her wrist computer. “Gren, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said apologetically, hoping it would make up for her outburst earlier. “The gentleman from the Human…sorry, who are you representing again?”
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“The Human Confederation.”
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“Right. Of course. Anyway, the chair is soaked and we need a new one. Can you grab one from…somewhere?” Her voice dropped almost to pleading. She couldn’t think of words any more. If anything else went wrong, she silently swore she would abandon all attempts of diplomacy and spend the rest of the day in a hot bath.
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The secretary delivered a clean chair and dragged the soiled one out of the room, trails of slime following it. Laen suddenly had a horrible thought about where the ‘slime accumulated between shower tiles’ the Ultruins were so vehement about came from.
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Mister Cardot sat in the clean chair and opened his briefcase as the door shut. “Miss Laen—I’m sorry, how do you wish to be called?”
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“Laen is fine. It’s the only name I have, besides my social identifier number.”
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“Right. Thank you again for seeing me. On behalf of the Human Confederation I’d like to welcome you and extend—“
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“I cannot offer Dominion technology under any circumstances.” That was the first thing every diplomat asked for. Maybe she could save some time in this appointment and take a break before the next.
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“I wasn’t…I didn’t finish…” The ambassador trailed off. Laen wished he would hurry up and leave. Her professional demeanor failed and she felt her face scowl as she tried and failed to keep smiling.
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The human stared at her quizzically. “Are you okay?”
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Laen was not prepared for that. “I’m sorry, what?”
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“You don’t seem to be very happy right now. Is everything alright?”
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She stared back for a few seconds. “No, it’s ‘fine’. Everything’s just peachy,” she bit out sarcastically. “You want to know how ‘fine’ this is?”
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Bradley looked concerned, but she continued. The flood gates were open, and she was going to have her say.
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“I didn’t want to be an ambassador! I was never interested in diplomacy or politics or xenos or any of that! I’m an accountant! Do you want to know how I got here?”
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Bradley was silent.
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“I was meeting a colleague in the government center. I walked past the door to the Executive Director of External Affairs and Relations Regulations Committee’s Record Keeper’s Assistant’s office, and the Record Keeper was in there talking to his assistant and he came out and almost bumped into me and he shoved an envelope at me and said ‘there’s a ship leaving the galaxy from dock one twenty four in fifteen minutes be on it and here’s everything you need to know.’” She was almost crying as she babbled.
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The man had stayed perfectly still throughout her tirade. Laen hardly noticed as she launched into the next part. She had revealed too much, she thought. How would she fix this latest blunder? Hot tub for a day wouldn’t be enough. Not even a week. And what about Bradley Cardot? She didn’t even pause in telling him her deepest concerns. She couldn’t allow him to leave with that information. She would have to arrange an accident of some kind and get a new human ambassador. She had never killed or ordered anyone murdered before, and the thought made her stop mid-sentence.
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She would have to consider how to deal with Bradley later. While she had a captive audience, she may as well spill her feelings, even if she had to kill him later to cover it up.
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“Nobody cares. They never cared,” she said tiredly. “Do you know I had over a hundred coworkers? I was connected to the net during the whole trip. The only message I got the entire month I was traveling here was an automated mail to inform me of my job change.”
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She turned around and dug through her bag. “See this pamphlet?” She held it up for him. It was a folded paper with a pleasing yellow color, titled “So You’ve been Conscripted to be an Ambassador? How to Avoid Embarrassing Yourself and the Dominion”. She tossed it to him and he broke his pose to catch it from the air. “That’s what they gave me to prepare me for this role. The Dominion doesn’t care about me enough to train me. They don’t care about you enough to send someone competent. There’s nothing you can offer them and they know it. I’m only here to satisfy some archaic rule somewhere.”
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Bradley was flipping through the pamphlet. “This says you can order a preemptive strike against Class two civilizations!”
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“Yeah, it does. Technically, beyond my presence and availability as a representative of the Dominion, you don’t have any rights at all. My contact at the Forms and Regulations for the Department of Ethical Treatment of Inferior Sentients and Species told me which forms to fill out to have any inhabited planet here glassed by the military with no questions asked, and no one back home would even blink. I could make myself the governor of all your planets and parade Dominion military ships around as long as I had the right documents to make the captains go where I wanted.”
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Bradley was oddly calm at the revelation, and continued to read the pamphlet unaware that she was still considering revoking his living privileges after the conversation.
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Laen sat in the couch and continued while he read. “Our technology is so much more advanced than yours. I’m not trying to be insulting, that’s just how it is. Our two civilizations don’t need any of the same materials. We’re only in this galaxy to mine white dwarf stars, and you’re still scraping asteroids for resources. If you didn’t try and make contact, we could have lived in the same sector for decades and never crossed paths.”
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The human ambassador nodded. “Our people have a theory called the Fermi Paradox. It’s basically what you just said, where an alien civilization is so advanced they have no interest in us, maliciously or otherwise.”
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Laen nodded. “Just a few minutes ago, I traded thirty tons of gold for a robot that changes the thermostat! I don’t want a robot! I’ll probably dump it out the airlock without opening it.”
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Bradley’s jaw dropped at the price of a House AI. “That’s quite a lot.” He closed the pamphlet. “Do you know what you need? A vacation.”
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She was about to ask what that was when he pulled his own computer from his pocket and turned it on. Although it looked similar, she was certain it was ancient technology compared to hers.
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“Check this out. This is a beach in the Bahamas.” He turned the screen to show her.
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Every hot bath she had ever had paled in comparison to the paradise in front of her. She could tell the temperature of the vista just by the reflection of the sunlight on the water, which stretched to the horizon. Never on all the city planets she had lived on could she have imagined so much wasted space.
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She could almost feel the water on her body, and had an intense urge to know what the sand would be like under her feet.
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“It’s beautiful.”
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“Come on. I’ll take you.”
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“I can’t. I have my duties to attend to, and I think I have to be impartial.”
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“Not at all. Like you said, the Dominion doesn’t care what you do. You can even accept bribes.”
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That made her pause. “Really?”
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“Yeah. It was in the manual. Page fourteen, I think.”
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“It explicitly said that?”
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“From ‘unenlightened civilizations with no relevance to the Dominion’, yes.” He opened the pamphlet and pointed to a paragraph.
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“Wow. I must have dozed off for that part. But you’ll still use this as leverage in negotiations, or something. How do I know I can trust you?”
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He looked at her with something she couldn’t quite understand. Maybe pity, or compassion. “You said no one cares about you, that you weren’t important. I’m telling you that you are important. To everyone in this sector, you are the most important person in the universe. You have the fates of billions in your hands, even if they belong to Class two civilizations. We have to trust you to do the best you can.”
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When she didn’t say anything he continued. “If you look upwards to the Dominion, you’ll find what you said is true. You and your job are completely irrelevant to them. But we, who you’ve been placed in charge of, care very much about you. Even if it’s only in our best interest.” He smiled. “I’ll make sure your trip isn’t interrupted with any diplomacy stuff. Unless you’d like some actual training.”
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She laughed. “That would give you a huge advantage against everyone else in the sector.”
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Bradley only smiled.
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Laen nodded. She knew he was just diplomatic, being nice to the person with big guns behind her, but right now she didn’t care. “Alright. Let’s go.”
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“Right now?”
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“Yeah.” She activated her wrist computer. “Gren? Cancel all my appointments for the next month. I’m going with Mister Cardot. And use my diplomatic credit to treat yourself to something.”
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One week later.
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Laen was sprawled on the beach, her knees soaking in the gentle waves while her back relaxed in the heat from the sand. She had made Bradley find the exact spot in the picture, and he assured her she was lying on the very grains of sand depicted.
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The beach was deserted aside from her, a waiter holding a half empty cooler full of beverages, and two dozen armed guards hiding out of view.
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She had no idea what day it was. Bradley had promised two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation, and true to his word no one was able to introduce themselves without going through both his bodyguards and hers. Just beyond the horizon, she was sure, swarms of boats still challenged the police blockade, but here it was completely peaceful.
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An annoying buzzing wafted over the breeze from her cabin. She had brought her wrist computer on the chance she might need it, but she hadn’t looked at it once since she got here. There was no need for any communication, as far as she was concerned. She had told her ship she would be back in touch and that she hadn’t been kidnapped and there would be no need for the Dominion to abduct another passerby to maintain headcount.
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It was nice here. She should leave the ship and set up shop on Earth. It would give the humans an unfair advantage but who cares?
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She did. She cared. Bradley was the only one who cared enough to ask if she was okay. She could care about them in return.
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Laen applied another layer of sunscreen purposefully designed for her blue skin and laid back on the sand, closing her eyes. She had almost fallen asleep when she suddenly bolted upright.
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“I forgot to give the Ultruins their gold!”
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Chapter 2
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Laen walked onto the cramped bridge of her Dominion-issued diplomatic shuttle to see the full force of the Ultruin battle fleet arrayed before her.
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The shuttle’s pilot, sitting in the chair on the left, greeted her with a wave before turning back to the controls with boredom. She couldn’t blame him. Nothing exciting was going to happen for a long time.
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She wondered what she was wearing, but couldn’t risk taking the time to look. The only thing worse than showing up in your pajamas to a diplomatic incident was showing up in pajamas and then appearing embarrassed about it.
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On screen, the Ultruin ambassador was gesticulating angrily, unaware that Laen had only now gotten up from her bed.
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It didn’t matter. The Ultruan language was usually fast and chaotic, with multiple tentacles making signs at the same time. But now the ambassador was using a very formal, very slow pattern. The movements took long enough to communicate anything that a few minutes of skimming the text logs was enough to catch up on his ramblings.
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Once she finished, she interrupted the Ultruin. “Thank you for that speech, ambassador, but there’s no need to declare war. I have your gold in an Achran bank. I will tell them to transfer it immediately.”
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She let her mind wander while the translation of the alien’s words crawled across the screen. There was a lot of movement for so little communication. It took about fifty separate gestures to form one word. Why was this language so inefficient? She glanced at the screen again and saw he was only half finished with his sentence.
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What was in the kitchen? The tiny shuttle boasted a one-square-meter kitchenette with all the amenities of a fourth-class restaurant in the middle of a random slum back home. There should be some leftover green paste, or was it the orange paste? If Gren ate all the green paste while Laen had been on vacation, she was going to have some harsh words for her.
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Her mind came back to the moment to see the Ultruin staring at her silently. After a look at the text logs, she forced her nicest diplomatic smile for the being threatening her life.
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“Again, I apologize for the delay, but surely if I add a late-payment fee to what I owe you we can leave as friends. It’s not as if you’ve delivered the AI either, right?”
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The shuttle pilot cleared his throat. Laen glanced over at him. He was pointing at a cardboard box sitting in the co-pilot’s seat across the aisle. It had Ultruin shipping labels plastered all over it like a hobo’s attempt at wallpaper. Laen briefly wondered what address they used to ship it to her shuttle in the middle of empty space.
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“Alright, so you have delivered the AI. But is thirty tons of gold really worth declaring war over?”
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The Ultruin gestured some more. Laen leaned over to the pilot. “When we’re done here, toss the box out the airlock,” she whispered. The pilot nodded.
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“Really? Wars of reimbursement are permitted for transactions over twenty thousand Konevs? And I suppose thirty tons of gold is more than twenty thousand?”
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More gesturing.
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“That’s great, but we surrender. We’re willing to hand over what we owe you. No need for hostilities, right?”
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Still more gesturing. Where had she seen those movements before? Suddenly she remembered and now she couldn’t get the memories out of her head. The Sushi place with Mark had been a disaster. First of all he was as generic as possible, without a single defining trait. And then the giant tentacle monster the chefs were about to serve somehow escaped and gobbled Mark up. At least he wasn’t able to ask for a second date, and when the Dominion army finally dealt with the monster the sushi was surprisingly good, though slightly singed. Laen watched the Ultruin and wondered if he had any distant relatives in her home galaxy.
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“Alright fine, have it your way.” She turned the viewscreen off and turned to the pilot. “In case you didn’t get that, the entire People’s Republic of Ultrua has declared war on me personally, and the Dominion by extension.”
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“I didn’t, thanks. Was I supposed to be paying attention?”
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“Nah. I was barely paying attention. So the Ultruins are just going to shoot at us for a while, and then maybe surrender. Tell me if something interesting happens.”
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The pilot smirked. “Will do. Class twos, am I right?”
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She stopped halfway through the hatch. “What is that supposed to mean?”
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He pulled his helmet off so he could turn to face her. “They’re just so dumb! I don’t know why we bother talking to them at all.”
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A wing of fighters blazed past the windows, peppering the skin of the craft with tiny kinetic slugs. Realizing the shuttle had no fighter defenses, the fighters slowly flew in front and emptied their magazines into the sitting shuttle. Inside the shuttle, of course, it was completely silent. Laen stepped back into the bridge to address the pilot.
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“There are some very nice class two people I met. Just because their civilizations aren’t as old or as advanced as ours doesn’t mean they as individuals aren’t every bit as intelligent as your or I.”
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“Ma’am, I don’t mean to insult you, but surely the Ultruins have spent more money on ammo in their little war than they could have made if they just took the gold.”
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“The Ultruins might be a special case, but this is still the action of one man. Even with the support of his government. All the others in the fleet are just following orders. You can’t apply a generalization of one individual to an entire group.”
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Megaton warheads splattered across the windshield like bugs. The glass automatically polarized to prevent ionizing radiation from reaching the passengers.
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“Alright, alright, I’m sorry I insulted your friends. Happy?”
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It was probably as good as she was going to get. “Close enough. And thank you for refraining from making that comment while the channel was open.”
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The pilot laughed. “No kidding. Do I look like a class two?” A horrified look crossed his face as he realized he made the same joke a second time. “No, I’m sorry. I just-“
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Laen smiled. “It’s fine.” She gestured to the light show outside. “Let me know when they get bored.”
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Walking back to her room, she stopped at the refresher station to check the mirror. She sighed contentedly. Sometimes, success was not showing up to a declaration of war wearing pajamas. Today’s definition of success meant forgetting to change into pajamas from yesterday’s clothing, and wearing that to a declaration of war instead.
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She would take whatever victory she could, especially because Gren had indeed eaten all the green paste and left Laen with the disgusting orange stuff.
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Bradley Cardot, the human ambassador looked surprised. “They just opened fire? Then what?”
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Laen shrugged and reached across the table for a pitcher of cool-aid. They were sitting in an empty room at a high-end human restaurant reserved for diplomatic events. Being able to order almost any drink known to humanity, Laen naturally chose cool-aid. “I grabbed a snack and went back to bed until they stopped.”
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“That’s it? How did it end?”
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“After a few hours, I had my pilot fire a warning shot through a small moon. They surrendered after that.”
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“What happened to the Household AI? And the thirty tons of gold?”
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“According to the document they signed, I returned the AI for a full refund. However, the whole thing started because I forgot to give them the gold, and the Ultruins don’t have thirty tons of their own. To process the whole transaction I have to pay them the original sum, without interest, and then they will refund it back to me.”
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Bradley was clearly questioning the mental capacities of the people involved in the surrender document.
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“It was seriously the only thing we could agree on. I was ready to give them both the AI and the gold just to get out of the talks a few hours early, but they wouldn’t have it.”
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“That does sound like them. It’s still troubling, though. You shouldn’t have been in battle. Doesn’t the Dominion have a military ship you could have called for backup?”
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“Well yeah, but I wasn’t in any danger. All Dominion ship hulls are statically placed.”
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“What does that mean?”
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Laen paused. “You seriously don’t know? As in Universal Static Positioning?”
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Bradley shook his head.
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“The molecules of the hull are in a form of stasis locked to relative ship position. Nothing except weaponry or tools designed to disrupt that stasis can damage it. Didn’t you already know that?”
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He shook his head again.
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Laen suddenly had a moment of clarity. “Oh! I keep forgetting you’re a class two, and USP is class seven tech. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you-“
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“It’s fine. And I appreciate that you don’t think of us as technologically inferior. Even though we are.”
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“Please, don’t mention this to anyone. I’m embarrassed just telling you.”
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“Laen, It’s fine. I wasn’t insulted. And I won’t tell anyone.”
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The Dominion ambassador breathed easier. “Thanks. But seriously, don’t tell anyone about Static Positioning. I could get court martialed just for saying the name to a class two.”
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The Human smiled. “I won’t. Humanity will learn it the hard way when we become class seven. But for now, you can’t continue traveling through space in a shuttle, even with indestructible armor.”
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“What do you mean?”
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“The Ultruin’s thought they could win against you because all you had was a single shuttle.”
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“But there was a Dominion ship only ten minutes away, if I was actually in danger.”
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“They knew you weren’t in danger. They wanted to intimidate you. If they were actually declaring war on the Dominion, they would have gone to one of the Dominion bases.”
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“I suppose. What do you suggest?”
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Bradley smiled wide. “The Human Confederacy would like to offer you a diplomatic warship.”
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“A warship? What am I supposed to do with a warship? I don’t think even the Ultruin’s would hesitate to fight someone with one warship.”
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“Ah, but it’s not just one warship. It’s one Confederate warship, crewed by humans. If the Ultruins or anyone else open fire on you, they are not only declaring war on the Dominion, who couldn’t care less, but on the Human Confederacy as well. And we do care.”
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Laen nodded slowly. “And by riding in your fancy ship, I would also be officially endorsing you.”
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The man cocked his head to one side and smiled at her.
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She wasn’t sure what to say. Picking up her glass of cool-aid, she maintained eye contact and drank the contents while being intimidating as possible.
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Sensing her trepidation, Bradley continued. “I’m sure a Dominion equipped shuttle has every luxury Humans can’t imagine, but it must be extremely cramped on board. You can just park your ship in the hangar and take a stroll down the corridors once in a while-“
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Laen choked on the cool-aid and coughed all over the table, narrowly avoiding Bradley. She wiped the liquid running down her chin with her sleeve, abandoning her intimidating stance. “I’m sorry, did you say hangar?”
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“Yes. The ship I have in mind has a small hangar that would be more than enough-“
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“How big is the kitchen?”
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“I don’t know, probably about the size of this room?” He gestured at the walls. They were about ten meters by twelve.
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“Do they stock cool-aid?” She asked, while lifting the glass that contained what cool-aid she hadn’t spilled.
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“They…certainly can.”
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“And do they serve the food we just ate?” Bradley had treated himself to a pork roast, while Laen had consumed five consecutive grilled-cheese sandwiches.
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“Not exactly, but we can customize the menu to your liking. All on the Human Confederacy’s bill, of course.”
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“I’ll take it!”
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Bradley took a deep breath. “I’m glad we could be of service.”
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A day later, Laen was almost jumping up and down with excitement. She was trying not to actually jump, because if she had she would have knocked her head on the overhead. The Perseverance was a Human Confederacy heavy cruiser, which meant it was slower than a light cruiser and less armored then a dreadnought.
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The passageways were just as cramped as one her shuttle, they just went in straight much lines longer. But there were more open areas, like the gym, hangar, and galley. The bridge was another area with a lot of open space, but that was just to fit more viewscreens and buttons and switches.
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Her shuttle, which lacked a name, was parked quietly in one corner of the Perseverance’s hangar. The rest of her crew declined to step onto the “Human death trap” and preferred to stay in a ship that wouldn’t vent atmosphere if it hit a micrometeor going a mere quarter of the speed of light.
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The kitchen had been her first stop. It was filled with appliances and machines with functions she couldn’t even guess at, but she made the head chef promise not to start the next meal until she was there to watch. Being able to eat food with texture while being in space would be the ultimate luxury.
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Now, she was climbing through the many hatches to get to the bridge. Her first stop as commander of the vessel was the Dominion supply base, one of the two bases operated by the Dominion in this galaxy.
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“Have we arrived, captain?”
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Captain Williams turned to face her. “Aye, ma’am. We are within radio hailing distance.”
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“Open a channel!”
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She waited excitedly for something to happen. Nothing did.
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“No response.”
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“Why would they be ignoring me? Wait, did you say radio?”
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“Yes ma’am, our sublight communication is radio based.”
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“That’s why. The base doesn’t have radio equipment. Call my shuttle, please.”
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The main screen changed to show her shuttle pilot reading something with his feet on the console, ignoring the red lights that appeared whenever his foot bumped something. Seeing her on his own screen, he jumped and straightened his posture, hiding his reading material under his seat. “Yes ma’am. How may I help?”
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“Contact Commander Devrak, please, and route the call to the bridge of the Perseverance over the sublight comms.”
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“Right away.”
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A moment later, Commander Devrak appeared on the screen.
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“Yes ambassador Lon, what can I do for you?”
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“It’s Laen.”
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“My apologies, Lon. Why are you interrupting my day?”
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“Do you remember that piece-of-junk shuttle you gave me?”
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“I was ordered give you the Mark 25 model. Otherwise all you would have gotten was an oxygen mask and a pair of plastic angel wings.” Commander Devrak apparently wanted nothing to do with this conversation.
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“Haha, very funny. Well, I got a new ship! See it on your scanner?”
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“Nope.”
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“Of course you do. It’s the biggest thing around besides the station.”
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Devrak squinted at something off screen. “Oh, there it is, I mistook it for a garbage scow at first. No, it is a garbage scow. Does it even have USP?”
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Laen glanced around nervously. “Ah, no, these are class twos, Devrak. No USP for a while.”
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“Well, have fun. Somewhere far away, preferably.”
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“Wait wait wait. I haven’t even shown you the firepower I have.”
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Devrak sighed. “Whoever decided to give you firepower is clearly the worst tactician ever. Fine. What do you want to do?”
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“Just launch a training drone and watch!”
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The commander leaned back in his chair and spoke to someone before turning back to the camera. “Your drone’s launching now.”
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Laen turned to Captain Williams. “Do you have the drone in your sights?”
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“Bogey detected on our starboard bow, twenty five degrees by ten. Mass: eighteen thousand kilograms. Distance: eleven thousand meters.”
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Laen jumped up. “Main guns to starboard! Prepare a full broadside!” She didn’t know if that was proper military speak, but she had watched a dozen space pirate movies to prepare for this moment.
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The captain nodded to his crew. “Fire on my mark. Three, two one.”
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There was a loud reverberation throughout the ship as eighteen cannons fired simultaneously.
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After a few seconds, the tactical officer spoke. “Target impacted.”
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Commander Devrak, still on screen, looked bored. “Are you sure?” The drone doesn’t show any damage.”
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The tactical officer continued. “Sixteen of eighteen shells hit the target.”
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Devrak’s expression stayed the same. “The accelerometer doesn’t even show its course changed.”
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The captain turned to Laen. “Normally, against a target of that size we would use missiles or flak guns. The main guns are accurate to a thousand kilometers if we’re firing on ships our size.”
​
“Thank you Captain. And you, Commander Devrak, for being a good host.”
​
“Unwillingly. Good travels, ambassador. I’d hate to hear something bad happened and I had to rescue you.” Devrak closed the connection.
​
Captain Williams ignored the commander. “Where to now, ma’am?”
​
She pointed her finger forward. “To the edge of the universe!”
​
Just then, her communicator buzzed. “Hello?”
​
“Ma’am, it’s Chef Ganovich. We’re ready to prepare the next meal, if you’d still like to watch!”
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“Are we having cool-aid?”
​
“Yes ma’am.”
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“With grilled cheese?”
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“As you requested.”
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“Don’t start without me!” Laen turned off the communicator and almost ran out of the bridge but turned back to Captain Williams. “Take us anywhere! I doubt Devrak wants to see us anymore!”
​
The captain sighed. “Plot a course for Earth.” Under his breath, he muttered “I hate grilled cheese.”
​
Chapter 3
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In a darkened room deep within the Perseverance, four crewmen conversed secretly.
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“She’s up to no good. We have to stop her.”
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“And you’ve seen how she treats the crew. She would do the same in our place.”
​
There were muttered agreements as they plotted. Suddenly, the hatch slammed open and Captain Williams strode through, accompanied by Chef Ganovich.
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“What’s going on here?” The captain said angrily. “Gentlemen, are you conspiring?” The crewmen shrunk back.
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Williams raised his voice. “WITHOUT ME?”
​
No one made eye contact.
​
“I told you I would be five minutes late, and you’ve started without me! Were this on the record, you’d be reprimanded for failure to adhere to protocol!”
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Crewman Banes stepped forward. “We’re terribly sorry, captain. I take responsibility. We were waiting like you asked, and I just mentioned how eating macaroni and cheese a fourth time this week upset my stomach, and that started the conversation.”
​
Williams nodded. “Apology accepted. Now, let’s get this started in an orderly fashion. I understand some of you have complaints about our guest. As your captain, I represent the crew to the higher ups, including Miss Laen. Crewman Banes, why don’t you start.”
​
“Thank you, captain. As I mentioned earlier, we’ve been having nothing but grilled cheese, macaroni and cheese, and nachos with cheese all week. I understand our mission is diplomatic in nature, but must we suffer just because she never saw cheese before?”
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“That’s certainly a valid complaint, and one I share as well. Let’s hear Crewman Korenski.”
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Korenski looked up with an evil grin. “She didn’t sign any agreement with us, but here we are ferrying her around the sector. She’s no good, I say. You saw what she did to the Ultruins, and that’s what she’ll do to us.”
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The captain looked confused. “What, exactly, did she do to the Ultruins?”
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“You saw, in the news, with the rest of us. The battle of…of…what was the battle called?”
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Banes shrugged. “I don’t think they gave it a name. And it was in the middle of empty space, so there aren’t any planets to name it after.”
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“There was that moon. The one she gave a piercing to.”
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“Aye, though it wasn’t quite a moon. Moons orbit planets, and this object was sitting alone. It was more of a dwarf planet.”
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“Don’t planets necessarily orbit stars?”
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“Not necessarily. There are rogue planets between star systems.”
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“Really? I didn’t know that.” Korenski shook the surprise off his face and returned to scowling. “What was this rogue planet’s name then? We can name the battle off of that.”
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No one knew. Everyone took out their pocket computers and data pads to look it up.
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One of the crewmen who hadn’t spoken yet found it first. “KX-9404-&kpX_\5.”
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Korenski nodded slowly. “The battle of the rogue dwarf planet ‘kay ex dash nine four zero four dash ampersand, lowercase gee kay, uppercase ex, underscore backslash five’. It doesn’t really have a ring to it.”
​
Captain Williams checked the time. “Regardless, you were saying?”
​
“Right then. She dishonored the tenants of honorable warfare and humiliated everyone involved. The least she should have done is destroyed half their fleet in defense, and maybe painted some dents on her own hull to make it look like an actual battle. Instead the Ultruin commander surrendered without taking a single casualty!”
​
“And you’re upset…why?”
​
“It’s dishonorable. When I think about all those Ultruin sailors, returning to their homes unharmed when they should have been given honorable deaths, it makes me angry!”
​
Someone in the back spoke up. “Don’t blame the squids for having better looking wives than you!”
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After a round of laughter, Banes joined in. “If you want an honorable death, Korenski, tell your wife what you tell us about her cooking!”
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Williams spoke up. “Alright, that’s enough. Korenski, the Human Confederation is not allied or affiliated with the People’s Republic of Ultrua in any way, and we do not care whether they were humiliated or not. She conducted warfare in an honorable manner as far as we are concerned, and that’s as far as you need to be concerned.”
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“Aye, captain.”
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“Chef Ganovich, do you have anything to add?”
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Ganovich cleared his throat. “As far as the food, Miss Laen appears to be a simple good hearted soul. All she cares about is watching all manner of meals involving cheese being made in ridiculous quantities. And maybe galactic domination. It’s hard to hear over the mixer. Regardless, she’s also a diplomat, and even if she demands the men stick to her meal choices, she will at least phrase it in a way that makes us feel better about it.”
​
“My thoughts exactly. Does anyone else have a specific complaint?”
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Another crewman in the back spoke. “I’m responsible for cleaning her quarters. She leaves hairpins everywhere!”
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“I’m pretty sure all women do that. Anyone else?”
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The crewman wouldn’t be silenced. “And she has a dozen bottles of shampoo!”
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Williams grimaced. “That’s even less of a complaint. Is there anyone else?”
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No one spoke except the same crewman. “And you should see the shower drain!”
​
“I will speak with Miss Laen about the food. The other issues are not at all relevant.” Without waiting for a reply, the captain turned and walked out the hatch.
​
Williams met Laen in the executive conference room.
​
“Miss Laen, thank you for coming.”
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The blue skinned ambassador was nervous. “Of course. What is this about?”
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“I’m sorry for alarming you. It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to discuss something in private.”
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Laen did not appear less nervous.
​
Williams continued. “We are happy to provide whatever food you enjoy, however, the men are used to a more…traditional diet in the service.”
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“They don’t like cheese?”
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“They do, just usually in much smaller quantities. And I don’t know about your species, but humans can get constipated from eating too much.”
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Laen put a hand on her stomach. “Is that what that is? I’m sorry, I should have known you would object. Human space food is much more diverse than the Dominion’s. I was just so excited about being able to chew instead of just swallowing.”
​
“I understand. You can still order whatever you want, but would you mind if the crew returned to their scheduled menus?”
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“Of course not. And there’s no need to treat me special. I’ll have what the crew is having.”
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Williams smiled. “I think you’ll enjoy it. And I know there’s cheesecake for desert.”
​
CONTINUED IN COMMENTS

First Previous Next
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Lots of thanks to u/Killsode-slugcat for helping me work through this chapter with editing.
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Memory transcription subject: Tevri, Venlil Romanticist
Date [standardized human time]: August 11, 2137
With eyes still closed, I stretched my legs and arms, paws pushing up against the inside of my sleeping bag. A sigh of contentment escaped my mouth.
I let the world in—light falling down in shafts that struck my still-waking eyes. No trees were around to provide cover from the rising sun that hung low in the east. The sounds of life surrounded me, occasionally being broken up by particularly strong gusts as well as a hint of something else.
My head turned to that hint, who still slept somewhat soundly off to my side. Last night Jack had set up his own sleeping bag less than an arm’s length from my own, citing our lack of a fire as the reason to gather closer to each other.
He tossed and turned, occasionally, muttering incoherently. At least he’s found some rest. After carrying me for over half of yesterday, he had certainly earned it.
It was actually quite surprising how well he had managed it all. His slim build compared to other humans that I had seen was betrayed by a hidden strength and incredible endurance. I suppose millions of years of evolution tends to allow such a thing.
Some part of me still felt bitter about what he had done the night prior to our last, but it was clear to me that his apology was sincere. I gave a quiet snort. He probably wouldn’t have carried you on your shoulders if he wasn’t at least somewhat sorry.
The covers of my too-big bag were thrown off and I sat up, holding my knocked knees with my paws.
Rocky rolling hills with low-grown shoots of grass lightly waved towards me. The nearby mountain range looked down upon us with its well-kept snow despite the summer season. Even three days of standing beneath them didn’t eliminate their wondrously looming presence.
I reached over to my nearby pack and grabbed my pen and journal. I clung to every thought that passed its way through my mind, marking them down the old fashioned way. There was something special about writing my feelings down on something physical rather than some pad or computer. It felt real in comparison to the alternative.
It was incredible to me how one of, if not the most dangerous planet to be found within known space was simultaneously one of the most fantastically beautiful worlds I ever had the pleasure of setting foot on. What a travesty it would have been had the federation actually managed to glass the biosphere. Ironically it had been the Arxur that prevented such a disastrous outcome. Those same savages had…
“Gah!”
Jack shot upright from where he had lain. He heaved harsh breaths, chest rising and falling as though he had just sprinted up the incline of a hill. I looked on with alarm, but didn’t think to disrupt the startled man. His eyes stared down at the dirt in front of him as he hung his hands between his legs.
“You okay?” I asked. He whipped to look at me like he had forgotten I was there. Slowly, he turned back to face the dirt. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He took a curt sniff and ran his hands across his face as he took a deep sigh.
He was lying.
The restless sleep, the violent rise into consciousness, the obvious distress within those wild eyes—all signs of nightmares. It had been years now since I last worried about such things, but I knew all too well how difficult they were to deal with.
A thought, as intrusive as it was unwelcome, pushed its way through the crowded thoughts of my mind, forcing my heart to skip a beat. What would be enough to scare a predator—human—to scare a human within their dreams? Instantly, I shoved it back from wherever it had come. He needs you right now, just like how you needed her.
I gently crawled over to the distraught man and set a paw on an arm while he leaned forward. At my touch, he turned his head towards me, staring with those forward-facing eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
A slight snarl of a smile crossed his face, but no answer came. Jack stood up and stretched his arms outward, leaning back and forth.
“C’mon, let's pack up and head out. S’always good to start out early.” He extended a hand down to me where I sat still. How could he just brush something so terrifying off so easily? My tail flicked absently I guess they always have been a rather resilient species. Why should they be any different mentally? I relented to his proposal, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull me upright.
Breakfast—much like last night’s meal—consisted of dry pre-prepped rations. Without surrounding trees from which drywood could be scavenged, we were left fireless. The ‘breakfast bars’ as Jack called them were a sufficient substitute for warm food. Every meal with the human increased my interest in the cuisine of his species. I hadn’t imagined it would all be so wonderfully varied and delicious.
The bar itself was chewy, made of oats, filled with dried fruits and sweetened by sugar. Each bite gave a satisfying crunch as my taste buds reveled in the impeccably delightful taste.
After hydrating and filling ourselves with calories, we set off once more on the trail.
This time, I was actually able to walk properly, though less than an hour after we departed, I was left wishing that Jack could scare me sleepless again—that way I could guilt him into carrying me.
While we continued, I walked without thinking much about the placement of my paws. I worried for my human friend. His mind was clearly plagued by something terrible, but the answer of what continued to evade me. The only lead I had were my own experiences, and in chasing that lead, my mind wandered back to the past.
As I was dragged from our home without protest, Devra lambasted our parents. Velnik cowered to the side as he watched the ordeal, helpless with widened eyes. Dad practically had to peel my sister away from mom as I was shoved into our vehicle. The echo of her shouts faded away.
It was the first time my parents admitted me for predator disease screenings.
An iron grip held my hand and led me forward through the stark featureless halls of the facility. A glance over my shoulder revealed my parents walking along. They dared not to risk a look in my direction. Tears welled at the edge of my eyes as the echoes of distant screams shocked my ears and flooded my brain with fear-chemicals.
My tail wrapped around my body and my ears bent towards the ground. Why did they want to throw me in here with the monsters? All I did was explore.
The facility worker threw me in a chair within a purely white room other than the single large black wall. From the ceiling hung a projector that faced one of the three white surfaces. After the worker left, my eyes floated through the room, narrowing at a sight that practically screamed of its existence. Dark lines were scrawled into the furthest corner of the sterile chamber.
I didn’t have the time to think about its implications when the screen clicked on and the lights dimmed, enhancing the image before me.
The metal chair fell backward with me in it, creating a resounding clang that bounded back and forth across the walls.
My hands slipped and slid across the slick floor, carrying my body backwards. This scramble led the wall to smash against my back. Without a thought, my claws joined the countless other marks of those who had come before me.
A towering, onyx-shaded visage of the malevolent beast prowled beyond the edge of my vision, obscured by tears of terror that practically blinded me. The blood-orange eyes glowed greedily and its mouth was stuck in a perpetual snarl. Viscera of a horrifically familiar color dribbled down its chin from where the meat was in the Arxur’s razor-sharp teeth.
With a click, the sanguine show moved forward to yet another horrific display. Another click. Another. One more. Click. Click. Click. Silence.
My eyes were as raw as my bloodied paws. Their scraping and scrabbling joined me with the other souls who had faced this same experience. When the lights flicked on and the worker came back to collect me, I curled up trying and failing to back away. She stood me up, patting me down before pulling me from the room. Everything was a collective white blur, compressed into a single moment of unfocused voices until I heard the vehicle’s door slam.
The ride home was silent as I leaned my head against the padded surface of my seat. Shallow breaths rose and fell from my chest while Mom and Dad stared ahead. They hadn’t looked at me once since we left the facility—or even talked to me—since we left the facility.
Among the many questions I had, one clung to the surface of my mind before being swallowed by its sea of screams. Why?
When at last we arrived at home, I barely even noticed. Only when the door to the passenger cabin flung open did I somewhat rise from my stupor. A sudden surprise wrapped around me and pulled me from the car, dragging away from my supposed guardians.
In an instant, I was rushed to my room and placed upon the familiar comfort of my bed before being coated by two layers of warmth; one was the plush cloth of a blanket and the other the fluffy warmth of my sister’s fur. “It’s ok, Tev. You’re home. You’re safe.” My empty eyes had no tears left to give, so Devra lent me hers.
You’re home. You’re safe.
“Tev? Tevri?”
My repeated name yanked me from the memory. Ugh, I’ve got to stop wandering off like that.
“You in there sheep?”
With a grumble, I responded. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
Jack uttered a mischievous chuckle. “C’mon, let's get over this next hill then break for lunch. Sure seems you could use a rest.” Despite it going unnoticed moments prior, I now felt my heart pumping hard and each breath heaved just as harshly. A short break will probably do me some good.
Together, we crested the hilltop and sat down both our packs and ourselves. I greedily lapped up water from my bottle while the man beside me calmly took several swigs from his own canteen. The food he grabbed was a pair of packaged items that he called ‘pasta salad.’
The small noodles were coated in a layer of creamy sauce and mixed with a variety of colorful vegetables that I didn’t recognize, but just like everything else cooked up by these humans, it was delicious. The sweet, creamy sauce contrasted nicely with the savory taste of the noodles and the soft texture of the pasta paired with the lovely crunch of the vegetables made for a wonderful meal.
As I munched on my food, the wind lazily played with my tail. My heart drummed onward, steadying into an agreeable rhythm before finally, my breathing leveled out.
A field of purple flowers greeted us, climbing and falling with the rolling land. Down below us was the river we had loosely followed, bordered by nondescript bunches of shrubbery. Rapid white waters splashed up and against rocks, breaking the flow and sending up spray.
When together we finished our food, we sat there, enjoying the world around us. “So, Tevri,” as Jack spoke, I met his forward eyes, “we’ve been out here for two days now and I still know next to nothing about you. Why don’t you tell me a bit more ‘bout yourself.”
The sudden question caught me by surprise, but I tried my best to answer anyway. “There isn’t much to tell. I write stories and poetry about the nature of worlds I’ve visited.”
“Well, you must be one hell of a writer to throw around money like you do.”
At the compliment, I felt a rush of warmth to my face. “I—”
Jack’s calm demeanor became one of surprise in an instant. “Is your face ‘sposed to do that?” A pair of my paws clapped to my face, trying and failing to hide the spreading orange.
“Y-yes!” I squeaked. “It’s p-perfectly fine.”
“Huh, right.” He didn’t sound convinced in the slightest. “Well, uh, what about your family? You’ve met mine already, why don’t you tell me about yours?”
Just as the orange began to fade away, a shroud of mist met my eyes and my voice sunk with my ears. “I’d rather not.” The whiplash of jumping from a sense of contentment, to embarrassment, to sad longing was jarring to say the least.
“Ah.” He held his silence for a moment, allowing the blowing breeze and the distant rush of water to fill the space between.
“I’m sorry.”
“S-sorry? Sorry for what?”
Jack gave a huff. “You know it's funny really. You Venlil, us Humans. I never really saw it before, but even just a few days around you, it’s shown me just how similar our people really are.”
Again, wind and water.
“If it means anything, I’ve felt your loss.”
What?! How does he know? How could he possibly know?
He must have picked up my confusion before he responded. “After the battle of Earth I got used to hearing that answer of yours.”
Oh.
Jack rose, swinging his pack around his shoulders. “C’mon sheep, sun’s not getting any higher. Let's get going.”
“YOU—!” The dour mood was immediately washed away by my guide’s hearty laughter. Again with the emotional whiplash.
It was amazing how easily he managed to do that. Try as I might, I couldn’t stay mad at him. As I shook my head, I followed my guide’s motions and grabbed my bag to join him.
For a while we walked quietly, but once again, Jack tried to strike up a conversation. “So, you mentioned you’ve visited other worlds. What were they like?”
I gave the human equivalent of a shrug with my tail. “Some were better than others, but for the most part, they were quite beautiful.”
“You have any favorites?”
My ears perked up. “Oh yes! The sky cities of Nishtal were incredible. Dwelling among the clouds, it was a rather uplifting experience.” Jack groaned with a smile still on his face.
“That might be one of the worst puns I’ve ever heard.” In response, I simply chuckled.
“Nishtal, huh?” The smile on his face faded. “That’s the world of feathered sacks-of-shit, right?”
“What? The Krakotl? Don’t be dense now, they aren’t all that bad.”
Jack scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say. They didn’t try to wipe the Venlil from existence.”
“If they succeeded during the battle of earth, they very well could have. Not that it matters anymore. Nishtal’s skies are clouded by the ash of their once-lush swamps and their cities have been plucked from the skies. Their world died.”
Jack gave a gruff grunt. “What goes around comes around I guess.”
I was genuinely shocked at what I heard. The anger that began to bubble within me was not the same lighthearted stuff from earlier. “How can you say something like that?”
“They brought it upon themselves,” he barked.
“That bastard Kalsim was the one who brought destruction to his people and you know it. Billions of Krakotl were killed or captured by betterment. Can you honestly tell me, or even yourself, that any species deserves such a fate?”
Silence.
“No. No I guess I can’t” Mentally, I gave a sigh of relief.
With my tail, I gave him a gentle flick. “The Krakotl are functionally endangered now, you know? They may have killed a billion humans, but for each life taken, tens of their own were paid.”
My voice began to choke. “I had—have—friends among the Krakotl. If you think that the mourning you humans experienced was harsh, I just want you to think; how would you feel if less than a percent of your people survived death or capture”
These words of mine were followed by an air of silence. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but something I had said clearly struck a chord with the man. Unlike me, Jack seemed to ground himself in reality, but for the first time since I met him, his distant unfocused eyes made it clear enough that his mind was elsewhere.
The remainder of the day flew by beneath this same blanket of silence.
We passed from the wide grassy knolls into a sparse forest that was more brush than tree. The trail led beneath their branches and through the tall shrubbery, rarely veering one way or the other.
When we eventually stopped to make camp for the evening, the sun was still slightly above the horizon. The campsite was similar to the one we had stopped at on our first day. An old steel fire-pit was set in the middle and a steel food container lay to the side.
Even as we set up, the cold quiet remained.
Progress was slow. Jack usually did the majority of the work, but tonight, his movements were taken with less purpose than I was used to. More than once, his hands fumbled, dropping something only for him to robotically reach down and pick it up again.
Once he did finally unpack his belongings, he left to find wood for the fire. At least this time, I found myself less frightened than when he had last done so. The deafening silence of my thoughts was more disconcerting than the idea of any hunters prowling nearby.
Whatever I had said, it didn’t just strike a chord. No, this had shaken him. Not even those nightmares of his had affected him this deeply.
In much the same way that I hadn’t wanted to talk about my own family, it was clear that whatever this was, he had no desire to elaborate further. I did find it odd however that only after mentioning the near-annihilation of the Krakotl did he seem to change. Perhaps it had to do with whoever he had lost? If this was the case, then I couldn’t fully blame him for his hatred towards the Krakotl. Grief is a powerful accelerant for the fires of rage.
On the other paw, my poor heart broke for the poor avians. So many lost. So few left. When the news had arrived back on Venlil prime, I devoted every moment possible to comforting my grieving friends; to Dualo, Oqui, Icatl and Haiula.
For some though, the grief of their new reality was too strong. Several of my dear friends had been unable to overcome that grief. My ears fell and my head bowed. If nobody else would remember them, I would ensure I never forgot them. They deserved that much.
Despite the clouds looming over my mind, my ears perked up at the sound of footfalls and I turned to see a bundle beneath Jack’s arms. Minutes later, a brilliant blaze burned before us.
It felt good to have a fire again. The protective warmth felt like a familiar embrace. From my pack, I grabbed the same blanket my guide had lent me the day before and wrapped it across my body.
While I found myself shrouded in comfort, Jack prepared our food above the pit. It was yet another warm meal of packaged food. The smell of spice wafted up to the tips of my taste buds as he stirred it about with a metal ladle.
The clink of utensils against our metal bowls rose above the crackling flames. Their sun still peeked out from behind the trees, though soon enough, it fell and with it, came the night’s chill.
Countless stars that you simply didn’t get to see on Venlil Prime appeared in the night sky. A glance told me that I wasn’t the only one impressed by their appearance. My wide field of vision managed to capture nearly the entire sky. I wonder, which of those stars is home?
A gust of wind blew by sending shivers down my spine. The effect of the Wendigo’s story hadn’t been completely lost on me, but the terror it inspired had at least died down to a manageable amount. Staying near to Jack certainly helped.
Speaking of him, I’d had enough of this silence.
“Hey Jack, how would you like to hear a campfire story?” I asked, tossing aside the quiet that had covered.
“Hmph. A promise is a promise. Didn’t really have a fire last night to tell a story ‘round did we. Guess it’s only fair to give you a chance.”
My tail gave a flick of excitement at his agreeance. “I must warn you, this is a bit less of a story and more of a poem. It’s one of the last few that I wrote before my travels across the Federation ended. It isn’t quite as long of a tale as that Wendigo story you told me, but it means a lot to me.
Jack gave a thoughtful nod. “Very well, I call this poem ‘The Wandrer’s Curse.’”
“Across the stars we wandrers go, not caring much for threat or foes, The skies we see are not our own, But from them wonder’s always shown.
From Nishtal’s clear and crystal skies, To Fahl where golden deserts lie, And ‘cross the cradle’s fruitful lands, Our own horizons do expand.
It is amidst these very sights, That we the wandrers oft delight, For friends we seek and friends we find, Across the worlds of species kind.
Thru mountains, oceans and the woods, Where those long past once walked and stood, The wandrers seek to find the past; A simpler time, no clouds o’er cast.
Despite the friends which we have made, The clouds above us cast their shade, Upon the surface of our minds, And seek our hearts with chains to bind.
It is our lot to flee from pain, Brought on by smashing, lashing rains. Til weary broken and undone, We fall with legs which fail to run.
But such is life—that beautiful thing, That brings one joy and suff’ring. So with this final cloudless verse, Remember thee, the wandrer’s curse.”
At the end of my poem, the crackling fire picked up where my words left off. My eyes raised to the heavens once more and I realized just how wonderful this life was. There was something truly sublime about existing right here during this exact moment; under the stars, surrounded by trees the whistling, beside a warm fire that staved off the cold.
Sharing it with Jack made it that much better.
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https://pix4free.org/assets/library/2020-12-13/originals/alaska022.jpg (Cover Image)
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i'm looking for something that would be good to use on, for example, a bike trail, but that could also be folded up and put in the trunk of a car.
the medical supply stores only have clunky hospital/institutional chairs. i'm looking for something sturdy but lightweight.
i'll be the pusher, not the occupant.

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Louelle, Scout Specialist Technical Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: August 31, 2136
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Limna was right where I left her. She was sitting hunched over the interface of our transportation vessel, and as we entered, she twitched her ear toward us.
- His sacrifice was in vain - she said in a somber tone, her slumped posture still facing the main holo. - They won’t even look at the evidence.
Within the corner of my vision, I saw Pilipin's face return to normal. Anger slowly washed away from his features, and instead confusion began to take its place. Perplexed, he signaled me with his tail to clarify. I took the hint and pointed my claw at the screens that displayed various camera feeds, and he quickly noticed that one with the feed from the meeting room camera was dark. He was also quick to add things up, and with this new realization, a spark of resentment flashed in his eye. With one hand, Pilipin slipped off the human-made colorful attire and considered its weight.
- Well then, why won’t you look at the evidence yourself! - He shouted and flung the dream catcher away, in the general direction of the female Venlil.
The moment she recognized Pilipin's voice, Limna quickly spun around in her chair to face us. Unfortunately, the offending rag caught her by surprise as it zipped past her and, with a muffled splat, landed right next to her.
- You’re alive! But we… what is this thing? - She started asking questions as her eyes flicked from Pilipin to the prismatic garment stuck to the bottom of the screen. - What happened? - Finally, Limna asked the question that actually mattered.
- First things first. Louelle, check if you can somewhat ‘burry’ our submission, preferably deep - Pilipin ordered and pointed the main terminal with his tail.
Without further ado, I went to the ship console to unceremoniously unseat the confused civilian. Limna, sensing what I was just about to do, scooted from her seat and observed as I reviewed the last snapshot of the message resync tool.
- And you! – Pilipin caught Limna's attention once more. - You will answer a very important question.
I got myself busy checking system registers but still overheard everything they were discussing.
- What translation method have you implemented for the conversation with the savage? - he asked with the utmost self-control.
- The t-text t-translation for both sides was managed by the built-in Dict-o-box. It-t was managed by your own holopad with an updated human language library - she responded after a moment of thought. - I found out the app defaults to that option when it detects latency spikes, or in our case, when I proxied your conversation, so…
- Defaults from what – Pilipin caught a detail, and I had to stop my work to listen to Limna's answer.
- You have to understand that the conversation through the app is not E2EE – she started going more into technical details while Pilipin went back to retrieve his holopad from the cabinet. - It goes through a third party monitor, in our case, me, and an online context broker for some fancy smart functionality.
- Stuff me and hand me over to the Grays – I groaned and covered my face in my claws, shocked by the information she omitted about such a crucial component in her ‘hack’.
- Excuse me? - she asked at a loss from my reaction.
- Dealing with languages without a translation model Dict-o-box communicates with its servers to provide information to update or create that model, in response, it receives a frame of reference data – I stated the obvious. - Pilipin, do you remember the screw ups with the first Yotul recruits, sir? - I asked Pilipin as he came back with his holopad in hand. He groaned and winced as probably memories of the fuck-ups those backwater primitives caused flooded his mind.
- Well, it looks like now I’m on the opposite end of the shit sitck – he commented about his situation and motioned with his tail for Limna to come with him.
- Alright. Louelle, you do you, and Limna, you’re coming with me. As I understand it, this context translation function works fine on verbal translation implants, right? - Pilipin asked her, and I didn’t hear a yes, but right after the question, he continued. - Great, we’ll have a quick voice-to-text experiment in the back, and then, considering the output, I’ll decide what to do next - the sound of closing sleeping cabin doors was what I heard next.
Right, let’s focus back on the report.
Logs cleared. Registers overridden. I left no trace of sending anything from this shuttle. Now to login with my credentials, and maybe I’ll even be able to revoke the predator attack report completely before it gets processed further down the pipeline.
Where in deep hell is it? Why is there no ID with the right time signature? It was automatically rejected? Why?
I reread the automatic reply in my mind, as this was the first time I saw this kind of flag attached to a report.
Now this is just treason.
The line was supposed to take into consideration all signs and reports of predatory behavior, but judging from the reply attached to it, that policy has recently changed.
"Due to the increasing amount of false positive sightings and reports of human ‘true nature’ all new submissions regarding human predatory behaviors have been temporarily suspended. We suggest rereading the ministerial pamphlet ‘Social predators and you’ on human conduct and practices or trying to consult the issue on your holopad with a dedicated human volunteer to resolve the problem."
Kicking back in the chair, I loosen up and let my mind wander.
That’s one problem out of mind, but damn. You can’t even file a formal complaint against them. This is it! The conquerors must be bribing the corrupt and tricking the single-minded, if not to eat them, then surely to slowly subjugate and enslave the Venlil population.
Lost in my musings, I faintly noticed the stifled laughs and shouting coming from the cabin until the door flung open to the side.
- NO! I don’t believe it! I don’t want to! - Pilipin was shouting as he exited the small cabin, gripping his holopad tightly in his hand, while Limna giggled, her laughter emanating from the inside.
Oooh, he’s really pissed.
The officer's short cut fur was standing up on its ends; you could see the gray, undyed undercoat poking from underneath. His tail was low and lashing, restlessly bouncing from end to end of the metal doorframe. Face orange with embarrassment and rage, eyes frantically looking for something to set on down finally stopped on me.
- Just... tell... me – he stated, huffing with rage. - You somehow managed to 'unexist' the report completely.
- Ye-s. It was… it has been dealt with – I replayed, not bothering to explain and enrage him further.
- Great. That’s a good thing. One good thing – he repeated, slowly cooling his emotions. - The camera room footage? - Pilipin asked while walking to my station.
Flicking the security app back to life made the feed appear on the second screen beside me… the one that got slightly obstructed by the rainbow garment stuck to its surface.
NOPE! I’m not touching that. Not now, not ever.
In the room, there was a lone Sivkit in a janitor uniform, sitting in an office chair similar to the one I was in. Judging from his posture, it was evident he wasn’t cut for the job, as he was drifting into sleep from time to time, bobbing his head up and down as the urge to take a nap got the better of him.
- Competent as the pair we met before – I murmured, resisting the urge to check the clinic feed. - It seems the footage is stored locally and deletes itself after a few rotations.
Fiddling and scrolling past the system logs back by date and not finding anything older than two standard cycles confirmed my suspicions that the station had limited storage space for recordings.
- I think it’s best we leave it alone and let it remove itself. Our meddling would draw further unwanted attention – I continued my thoughts to Pilipin as he watched the substitute operator's ineptitude to do his job proficiently with visible relief.
- Alright. Let’s just hope this won’t come back and bite us in the rear - he concluded. - That leaves us with only one problem remaining – he added, leaning on the console and crossing his arms over his chest. - The one waiting for us outside.
- Oh, come on! - Limna suddenly materialized behind me, shouting her opinion. - You’re going to dump him after you get the best lick of your life only because he doesn’t fit your narrative?
Glancing at my colleague, I was certain to find him infuriated again by that statement, but instead he got lost in his reverie, brooding at her words and glancing in the direction of the bulkhead doors.
You can’t be serious?!
- Well, I do have to confess that, for me, he did pass the empathy test… orally. – Pilipin then took a deep breath, probably ready to surrender further to his temptations, but instead his features suddenly changed.
It was clear as daylight that the Venlil officer had figured something out, and soon he shared his idea with newfound confidence.
- Alright, Joe said he wants some good time? I’ll show him some good time – said the trapper exterminator as a mischievous smile crept on his face. - I’ll give him the best time of his life. In return, we’ll have the opportunity to see his true colors and maybe gain access to some of the restricted data on humans.
That was a solid argument to keep the predator close despite the dangers it would carry. When working with humans at the space port, the translator's notifications were often labeled not safe for life or restricted. Some of the information that crept up during their conversations that the translator software picked up was even fully censored, or access to it was strictly denied.
- Pilipin, after all of this, do you seriously still think they are some kind of evil conquerors? - Limna asked, her shoulders slumped and her tail slightly cocked in disbelief.
- In one way or another...– he replied, and started to tap something on his holo.
A moment passed in silence as we were waiting for him to further expand on his statement. Instead, we were startled by the sound of metal scraping against metal, which was immediately followed by a loud thumping on the shuttle doors.
- The handle won’t budge! – A muffled, low growl emanated from the outside.
- Leave the handle alone! It’s for emergency use only! - shouted Pilipin, who rushed to assist by opening the door from the inside.
The officer pushed the big red button next to the entrance and almost immediately jumped away from a brown mass that assaulted him the moment they opened. I was too surprised to move, but Limna scampered back to the cabin, tripping on the raised doorstep and tumbling inside. The other thing that soon tumbled through, although through from the opposite direction, was Joe. Having the unfortunate benefit of watching all of this unfold from the comfort of a seated position, I observed the meat eater flop on top of his enormous backpack face-first.
- I suggest we tie him up for the trip – I stated my concerns as the clumsy excuse of a predator regained his composure and started lifting himself off the floor. – For safety reasons – I quickly added as Joe's gaze settled on me with killing intent.
- Is rope bondage just a big friendship bracelet for your kind, or is this just you? – Joe humored my concerns and started checking his traveling duffle, probably for any rips and tears.
- Ha hah ha! Go ahead, officer, cuff him. You’ll just get him more horny – Limna added her own criticism, peaking her ears from the cabin.
- Enough! All of you! - Pilipin ended our dispute before it would even begin and motioned with his tail for his acquaintance to come out. - Joe, this is Limna. Limna, that’s Joe.
Although I dislike being the butt of someone's jokes, the female Venlil came out relaxed from this short exchange of humor. Still, she approached with her ears perked up and pointed to the dangerous predator in front of her.
- Hi. Joseph Savage, or Joe for short – he spoke and hunched over, stretching his hand forward.
- H-h-hello. Limna... – she introduced herself in return, unsure what to do with the human appendage practically shoved in her face.
- That’s a human greeting – I threw my expertise in, probably saving her from any faux pas before she would come to any stupid conclusions... like maybe licking it. - You’re supposed to shake it.
She then proceeded to grip it with both of her hands and shake it in all directions.
Close enough.
- Great, now Limna here works in the PID. She will register you with the Magestratta. For the time being, your address of permanent residence will be assigned to my flat. She will handle the required paperwork on our way back – Pilipin reviled his plan. - Just follow Limna to the cabin and be a good predator. Don’t try anything stupid, you hear? - he added, pointing his finger to the predator's face.
- Sure thing, I remember orientations. Rule 8 includes ‘no petting without consent’ – Joe apologetically replied while Limna blushed orange on her face. - Although I thought it applied to different kinds of petting.
- The… WHAT? - Limna voiced her concerns, embarrassed by the lewd definitions the translation implant bombarded her vision with.
- That’s rule 73 for you – the predator quipped, quickly blinking with one eye at the female Venlil.
The human straightened himself, looked down upon the Venlil pair in front of him, and shook his head from side to side, letting out a small chuckle.
- Before I met my chew toy here in person, I thought you just didn’t like scritches. Now I think the guidelines have more to do with you keeping your dignity and not leaving an embarrassing snail trail on every pet person's lap you meet than…
- OUT! Git! - the officer yelled, his face orange with rage and embarrassment, not wanting to hear more about the depravity of his kind. - Go and fill out the bumfodder! - He shouted, probably not wanting to face more of the predator's lewd claims.
- Alright, alright! No need to go into super cheeto mode for this – Joe quickly came back on his comedy act – Ok, let's go fill them out.
We eyed the human being led to the cabin by Limna and felt relief as we soon heard the bureaucrat's first-line support interview questions.
Seething from the insult toward their kind, Pilipin walked back to the ship doors and closed them, pushing the button with a little more force than was normally required.
- Let’s go home, Louelle – he said with a sigh. - I need a cold shower.
I’m all for that, sir...
​
INFO:

1. I found an engine, yay!
2. The series will continue somewhere in July under a different name. I heard there is a post for writers on this Discord app, so I'll have to check it out before committing more to it.
3. I'll like to thank Quill bot for grammar checks, KoboldAI for assistance in writing, TavernAI for a place where I could talk to Pilipin, Limna, Louelle, and all the other characters, and most importantly, this NSFW community for their patience and understanding. Without your comments, I would just keep their adventures on my drive, never to be seen by anyone.

It’s not really important to detail everything of the next few weeks, word did spread that the Walkers were leaving again, of course, there was no way to keep that secret. Packing had to be done, after all, and arrangements for the house had to be made.
There was simply no way to keep our going ‘completely quiet’. So the neighbors started to come by asking questions.
“Should we leave too?”
“Am I going to end up with more bits of shrapnel in my kitchen?”
“Do I need to get more stuff to patch bullet holes?”
“I assume we go to the same hotel as last time, or will it be a different one?”
It was frequent enough that we held another ‘neighborhood barbecue’ where William explained over sizzling meat and a mix of real beer and that abomination to all civilized species ‘non-alcoholic beer’ that, “You are in no danger. We are leaving for a government assignment, but it is not one that puts any of you at anymore risk than yesterday or the day before. I promise, there won’t be any crazy masked gunmen showing up and disturbing the peace.”
William’s reputation was one of truthfulness, and it probably didn’t hurt that making sure the neighbors were safe had been a priority last time.
‘Last time… for the sake of the void… how many shenanigans are we supposed to get involved in?’ I asked myself that question while sipping on a very large ‘wood bottle’. This was a wonderful innovation in alcoholic beverages. Instead of ‘glass’ this ‘wood’ actually added a wonderful earthiness to the beer, making it smoother and far more full bodied than the glass counterpart.
It had its drawbacks, of course, if you didn’t want that added flavor, you had to use glass, but I found it to be positively delectable, if a little ‘thicker’ than my usual preferences.
I had a great fondness for ales, particularly the more ‘aggressive’ ones with an immediate sort of bite to them. They weren’t to be ‘chugged’ like the bland and fizzy ones that had all the kick of a sleeping toddler. No, no, these powerful ones were meant to be ‘swigged’. You take one big swig at a time, savor the richness, the full flavor, the taste, and the feel of it going down.
It’s about here I should mention that ‘beer clubs’ and ‘bourbon buddies’ were starting to gain popularity among dlamisa.
It began with the Ballyball League of Earth and Dlamias. As part of their training for the sport, teams ‘ran’ a great deal, and they learned of an ancient Earth organization that survived through the centuries called the Hash House Harriers, ‘drinkers with a running problem’ as they are popularly known.
These organizations around the world would lay out trails and follow them in search of alcohol at various stopping points. They would drink together and have a grand old time, and be rather intoxicated by the end of it all. From this my people innovated various ‘fan clubs’ for certain alcohol organizations that would sponsor their runs in exchange for filming their gatherings.
Naturally I set up a few gambling options for people to bet on my players during training, but out of these grew specific off-field rivalries which were now starting to spread to my home world, usually run out of coffee establishments.
This might be the thing that made someone decide to put me at risk. I will probably never know the answer to that one.
It didn’t matter. Not really.
I was standing there among my friends, family, neighbors, with warmth and welcome, with the smell of good food cooking and people wishing me well on my ‘business trip’ and I knew I was doing the right thing.
This was the reason, this was the point of it all, to bring ‘this’ not just to me, but to everybody.
Every drop of blood that spread in my arena, every credit that flowed into my exponentially growing cooperative organization… all of it was serving this single purpose. ‘I will see my will done. I will bring it all down.’ I vowed and took another swig from my bottle. Latunde was telling a joke, and I huffed politely.
A good man, a good neighbor. And a surprisingly good actor considering he ran a feed store, his pretend police situation when we were making our evacuation a few years ago was really well done.
But I couldn’t pay attention to jokes right then.
I went back into the house and up to Fauve’s room. I knocked, “Come in.” She answered.
I expected this, she was never particularly social, and didn’t care for large gatherings of people. I still wasn’t the biggest fan of those, but…alcohol makes everything much easier.
“Hi.” I said, poking my head in without entering. “How are you?”
She was seated at her terminal, pounding away at ‘nothing’. But she had a virtual headset on so there was ‘something’ to her.
“Fine. I’m just taking care of some things. Writing out some notes, researching the Praeda species that we’re going to meet, writing my will, breaking up with my girlfriend, the usual sort of thing that happens every…single…time I think life is going to finally come out of warp and let us relax.” She said it with such deadpan humor that I almost missed it.
“I’m sorry.” I said and slipped into the room, closing the door behind me, I went and sat down on her bed.
“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Fauve answered, though she didn’t take her attention off her work. “This is just more of the usual, and if anybody is to blame, it’s me. I could have faded into the background. I could have just let everything go back to normal. I could have just shut my mouth after everything was over the first time… but no. I didn’t. I didn’t and now I can’t have a moment’s peace or normalcy. I had to be media personality, a speaker, a filmmaker a….” She trailed off and slapped her palms down on the desk. “I did this to myself. Now I’m going to be alone again because I just can’t say no. Michael is going to lose years with his friends. You’re being thrown back into god knows what, mom and dad are… no, they’re fine, to them this will be a vacation, if anything.” She sighed.
“My point is, Bailey, you don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m just, I’m stressed out a little.” Fauve said to me and I swallowed hard and nodded.
“I know what you mean.” I said, I chose not to mention the pseudo-attempt on my life, but added, “This is a disruption to my life too, and… a lot of things are going to change, even if things go well, maybe ‘especially’ if they do.” I got up and went to put my hand on her shoulder.
Fauve leaned back, rocking her chair so that it hit my waist, her head was against my fur, “And I don’t think I did anything wrong here but… I’m sorry that things aren’t as easy for you as you deserve. I mean that.” I promised.
She cracked a smile beneath her headset.
“Yeah, yeah, well it’s not like space is boring. No human has ever been out that far before, so we get to be a first… but even so? I’m tired of having to end relationships over work. It happened with Halbert, it happened with… wait… has it ever not happened that way?” Fauve stopped and thought that over.
I wasn’t surprised she referenced her first romantic interest. Humans tend to template all later relationships on the basis of their earlier ones, and Fauve tended to be hyperfocusd on what she was engaged in at any given moment, so I wasn’t surprised that she would never have really looked at how something over ‘played out’ in the end. Not until she had a reason to.
“Wow… yeah… everything always ended because of something work related… if not mine, then theirs. Damn.” She sighed as that understanding hit home.
Humans have in my observations, a tendency to blind themselves to what is happening, they don’t always see underlying causes for what goes awry in their lives, and as such they may miss patterns that will not be missed by other species. It makes them interesting to be around, at least.
“I’m taking a long vacation when I get back.” She promised herself and slumped. “Maybe I should sell the rights to that game series and turn my attention to something new… I…” Fauve shook her head, “Bailey, do you think it’s possible to be too career focused?”
I squeezed my hand on her shoulder a little nad cocked my head. “You’re asking me that question? Fauve, I came here on a fifty year doctoral program, I’m the last person you should ask that question.”
She was quiet for a moment before she quipped, “Alright, that’s fair. But after this is over, I’m definitely taking a break. Maybe I’ll just rewrite this breakup note and explain that because of work that we need to ‘go on a break’ no questions asked after I get back.”
It was of course possible that the other person would ‘move on’ and there was nothing to come back to when Fauve did return, however this did leave the possibility open at least. “I think that’s wise.” I said with a gentle voice.
“You should invite them to Waterland Park with everybody else.” I suggested, but Fauve shook her head.
“No. No. I have to face this one on my own. If I can walk in there and walk past that place without a problem, on my own, I can finally put the last bit of that bastard behind me.” She said it with such iron resolve that it was hard for me to imagine she wouldn’t be able to do it.
“You won’t be alone, you know that.” I reminded her.
She smiled again.
“That’s not quite what I mean, Bailey… but thank you. I still have some work to do here, but, would you be a friend and bring me a beer while I finish this up… and maybe a hamburger?” She asked.
“Sure thing, Fauve.” I said, and left her room again.

Heads up! This story is both unpolished and unfinished, and posted here only for the sake of not letting my work go entirely to waste. If you want to continue the story yourself, feel free to do so.
Credit for The Nature of Predators goes to u/spacepaladin15.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: September, 2136)
At first, we assumed it to be an Arxur weapon, but we had plenty of time to get a more detailed look at the object intersecting our FTL trajectory. A mass of energy, far more than a star could emit, yet giving off no light. Gravitational pull was intense, but completely wrong for a black hole. Maybe the remains of a massive warp core accident? Whatever it was, it was directly in our path.
We had ample time before our collision, and nothing we could do. Our course was set, and escape vessels couldn’t be launched during an FTL jump. All that was left was to wait, and pray for a mercifully quick death that we all knew was unlikely. We built our starships to withstand direct assault from Arxur warships. Our deaths would be both inevitable and slow.
I was away from the refugee’s quarters, on the bridge. I couldn’t bear to watch pups cry in terror, as their parents tried hopelessly to ease their fear. The bridge was only marginally better. Some of the crew were facing their imminent death with stoicism. Many were praying. Many were crying. I don’t remember what I was doing when it hit, but I was probably crying too.
Then… then…
Pain, agonizing and blinding pain. No screaming. No noise at all. Silence, darkness, death.
Movement. But I couldn’t possibly move myself. Was I carried?
​
My first coherent memories started taking shape next to a fire. I couldn’t see, but the warmth and crackling were unmistakable. I tried to move, only to find myself unmoving. Was I in the wreckage of the ship? I felt no pain. Was I already dead?
“Hey, look who’s finally back in the land of the living. Can you hear me?”
A human. The species that started this whole mess. That attacked our cradle, let the Arxur find an easy target. That taunted us with their “Evacuation” cattle roundups. The disgusting mockery of a voice washed over me, tainting my very soul.
That fire must be to roast my flesh. Does it want my fear, before it kills me? It won’t get a single goddamn word, not so much as a noise.
“You… damn, he must still be out of it. Maybe another stimpak..?”
Cli-hsssss. A stabbing pain in my arm, followed by… relief? My arm twitched slightly, but I couldn’t manage anything more. A rushing sound filled my ears, overpowering the growl on my left until it bore me away to unconsciousness.
—
I woke up on a bed, staring at what must’ve been the ceiling, though all I could see was vague rust-brown shapes in the distance. My body still refused to move. And yet still, somehow, so little pain. Was my nervous system destroyed?
No. Hunger. Brutal, snarling hunger stabbed through my stomach like a dagger. I made a weak noise, remembered where I was, and rapidly forced silence. If it knows I’m awake, it’ll torture me until it lets me die…
“Oh! You— you’re awake again! Can you hear me?”
Don’t make a noise. It might lose interest.
“...No. Dammit. It’s going to starve if it doesn’t fully wake up soon… I can’t afford all these meds for much longer anyway. I’ll just have to… leave this here for it. Maybe it’ll wake again while I’m out.”
And just like that, a rush of movement and it was gone. It worked! I lived… I lived, just so I could starve…
​
By the graces of the protector. Food. I could smell food, just inches to my right. Can I move to pick it up? Can I move my jaw to eat?
Is it a trap? The human must be trying to fatten me up. Or maybe it didn’t leave at all, and is just waiting in the shadows to see if I take the bait. Or… maybe…
Fuck it. I was already good as dead, I could at least die full. I tried moving my arm, but to no avail. My other arm was no better. Maybe I could move my head?
The world shifted around me, a nauseating whirl of muted colors. But that meant my head could move. I could move… the food was still just barely out of reach. I can almost taste it… it’s so close to my nose…
I let out a weak cry of frustration. I couldn’t help myself. Did the human intend for this torture? The frustration became rage, filling my body like a white-hot star until I—
Trembling, my claw grasped the food. Rage and hunger animated my arm, pushing it forward. Whatever this was, it was soft. It smelled heavenly. I brought it up to my face. My vision was just recovered enough to make out its form; a strayu-like pillow drizzled with a sweet glaze. I tore into it like an animal, barely even tasting. I must not have eaten in days.
Gone in seconds, and the hunger was barely sated. But it was enough energy to force movement with. Slowly, unsteadily, I rose to a sitting position. The world threatened to shift away from under me, but I held, trying to get my bearings.
I’m in… some sort of shack. Bare, rusted sheet metal on the walls; clearly an improvised structure. Other than that oddity, the room was surprisingly normal. No blood dripping from cages, no hunting trophies on the walls. A torn up carpet, a beaten-up table and chair, some cabinets, all illuminated by soft rays of light pouring in from a window over the table. And right next to my little mattress… is that more food? Some sort of orange vegetable. Like the sweet strayu, I ate without even tasting.
Much better. I was still starving, but only metaphorically. I could even move my other arm, though my legs were entirely numb and refused to cooperate no matter how much I pushed them. Could I escape by dragging my body with my arms?
No. I was still too weak. I had to count on the human fattening me up a bit more before I could make a break for it.
​
​
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Just a hair to the right… and… Now. The interloper, a feral dog that had wandered onto the property, dropped without a sound.
I couldn’t afford to attract any attention, so I’d hastily slapped together a silencer for my pipe revolver. An old oil filter, just small enough to not obstruct the scope I’d hastily tied to the top. The gun looked ridiculous, but it got the job done silently. If I attracted any visitors, my alien guest was as good as dead. Nearly a week after finding it, and it still wasn’t waking up consistently.
Now’s not the time for thought. Focus. Now.
The second dog also dropped. The alpha of the pack still hadn’t noticed anything, a miracle. I lined up one last shot… pulled the trigger, and finally let myself breath. That was way too close. Every day without the fence finished was another day of silent stress.
Putting up a fence was easy enough, but putting up a fence QUIETLY was nightmarishly slow work, constantly punctuated by hiding from any would-be visitors. But these dogs had wandered onto the property without even seeing me. Could they smell the alien? I knew Dogmeat could track injuries from a far greater distance…
Fence should've been up yesterday. Back to work.
I’m running out of barbed wire. And screws. And boards. Can I afford another expedition? What if Dogmeat can’t defend him? Not a chance in hell I’m risking any other group learning about this… although Mama Murphy probably knows anyway, doesn’t she. Maybe the Minutemen can—
No. I can’t risk it. I’ll have to improvise. Maybe I can set up a Tesla arc as defense and leave to raid Sunshine Tidings. Rusted metal sheets don’t make for the best walls, but better than nothing.
The sun was still high, so I had some time if I hurried. As I began gathering supplies, a thought crossed my mind. A Tesla arc was better than nothing, and Dogmeat was formidable enough, but… surely if the alien was in serious danger, it could use some self defense. Those spikes weren’t gonna cut it. Maybe that bastard Kellogg’s old .44 would finally get some use?
I grabbed the .44 revolver, a spare arc trap I’d salvaged from Fort Hagan, and some tools. It would have to do. There was already power hooked up to the shack for heating, so wiring the—
The food’s gone.
Dogmeat didn’t eat carrots, so I knew there was only one culprit. The alien must’ve woken up while I was working. It was back asleep now, but at least it got something down. It wouldn’t starve. Thank god.
…right. If it can wake up, this trap is probably more dangerous to it than any invader. I walked back over to the shed, stowed the Tesla arc and tools, and grabbed a handful of vegetables and a water canteen. If it could stomach food, it needed to start putting on weight now to make up for lost time. This would be a start, at least.
I set the food and water on the table (taking care not to break the digital chimera I’d already laid there), and the gun beside the bed. I knew it could reach to there, without a doubt. Maybe toss in a handful more bullets, too; it’s not like I’d ever be able to make myself use the damn thing. I gave one last glance at the alien curled up on a bare mattress before closing the door and setting out.
—
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Help me. Kay-ut. Ki-ra. Protector. Anyone. It’s right there.
When I heard the human coming, I faked sleep hoping it wouldn’t check. As seconds passed, that hope grew thinner and thinner. Clearly, it could see the food was gone. Not that it needed to figure anything out; it could probably see through my deception just looking at me. Ki-yu, trickster; please, let this work. Let me live a moment longer. Noises all around me. Was it laying out torturous weaponry? Was it getting ready to gut me?
Protector. Please. I don’t want to die.
The noise around me stopped. Had the gods heard my prayers? I dared not check; if the human was still there, and I so much as opened an eye, I was dead. But death failed to claim me, and more noises failed to appear, until I finally worked up the courage to take advantage of my blessing and open my eyes.
The human was gone. I was alive. One more look around the room, to make sure it hadn’t—
A gun. A human weapon, close enough to grab. And ammo…
I knew humans were masters at trapping, at deceiving; such was their nature. I stared at the gun, trying to figure out what the trap was.
But I was tired, and hungry, and every sense told me that this wasn’t a trap, but a loaded gun. An answer to my prayers for safety. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I picked it up. It felt solid and weighty in my hands, lending some sense of security to the otherwise hopeless situation. Emboldened, I tried to rise to my feet again.
If I grabbed some of the furniture and stood on my good leg, I could just about stay upright without pain. That would have to do for now. Maybe I could use something in this room as a crutch. A leg of the table might do nicely, if I could—
Food. More food, all over the table. A sprawl of alien vegetables, including that orange one I had earlier. A metal jug, probably filled with water. And… is that a translator?
Curiosity overpowered both my hunger and my fear. On closer inspection, it was indeed a translator, one of the older dedicated units. Wired into… some sort of metal armband with a green flickering screen. The craftsmanship was shoddy; some parts were literally held together with insulated tape. Still, it appeared to be powered on and functional.
If I wasn’t in so much danger… I’d love to get a better look at what the human did with this thing. To wire Federation tech directly into one of their devices, and make it work…
My attention drifted back to the bounty laid out on the table before me. It could all be poisoned, but I’d already eaten the human’s food; what harm could it do to be full?
—
Sweeter than the orange one, but not as filling. Kind of mushy. Now no longer starving, I began to savor my meal slightly more. The green fruit was next, the one nearly the size of my skull. Upon breaking open the shell, it turned out to be pinkish red inside, and so juicy that I didn’t even need the water in the jug.
Bitter, but strangely satisfying. Next was a massive purple flower, which I could only guess was supposed to be food as well. The taste was unpleasant, but it felt bizarrely good to eat. Maybe a medicinal herb?
Why would the human give me a medicinal herb?
I’d been circling around the question for some time now. Why the food? Why the gun? Why the lack of gutting? Even if those supposed “empathy tests” weren’t faked, our species were at war! Did it not know?
Well-fed prey made for better-tasting prey, but a gun did not feed. A translator did not feed. Did it really want to talk to me? I weighed my options.
Option 1: Run. Impossible to do in my current state. Even with a large head start, even with uninjured legs, humans were nothing if not persistent; my odds were not all too favorable. And where would I go, anyway?
Option 2: Hide. Impossible to do in any state. Humans were perceptive and cunning. Nothing short of divine protection would hide me. And again, where would I go afterwards?
Option 3: Fight. I had a loaded gun, but for all I knew it was only there to lure me into a false sense of security. And besides, did I really expect to outfight a predator?
Option 4: Talk. It wasn’t likely, but maybe the human would have some sympathy (or at least fake some sympathy to keep up appearances). I was already injured, and it hadn’t torn me apart already; it clearly had something else in mind. Maybe the translator was involved in its “Something else”?
I didn’t… like that last option, but it seemed a hair better than shooting on sight when the human came back. Maybe I was forsaking the protection of the gods, forsaking my fellow Gojid. But none of the options were without risk, and I had to try something bold if I wanted to survive.
A noise from outside roused me from my thoughts. It’s coming. Time to make your choice.
​
​
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Halfway through the outbound trip, I realized I’d forgotten my pip-boy at camp. I’d taken both off, while working on wiring in that translator to the spare one from Vault 81. Having no way of assessing potential injuries simply would not do.
Halfway through the return trip, I realized I’d brought Dogmeat with me instead of leaving him to guard. I managed to make myself move a little faster. That .44 was no guarantee of safety, not if the alien simply couldn’t get up.
Once back, I could at least be sure that nothing happened. No blue blood seeping through the shack’s foundation. I grabbed the pip-boy, ordered Dogmeat to patrol, and prepared to leave before the daylight faded.
That’s a bit cold, isn’t it? Leaving without even checking on your guest?
I was leaving so I could build a fence for its protection, but… a quick check couldn’t hurt. Just to make sure nothing happened, right? Yeah. Sure. I had the time. Though maybe barging straight in wasn’t the brightest idea, not when I had just given it a revolver.
I knocked twice, and tried to lower my voice to a more soothing register. I had no idea if my hacked-together translator abomination would work, so tone was key. Before I could even speak, I heard a wild scrambling from the inside.
“Don’t— please don’t k-kill me, human, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”
…I guess I should be glad the translator worked? What the hell was that?
“I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise. Is it OK with you if I come inside?”
“I… Y-Yes.”
I gave Dogmeat a strong look to stay back, and cracked open the door. The terrified sniveling over the translator couldn’t have prepared me for what met my gaze.
A few weeks ago, I’d heard a heart-wrenching noise while poking around the edge of the glowing sea; a lone radstag doe, torn literally in half by a deathclaw. The beast was scared off by an approaching Vertibird, leaving the doe to wail helplessly until I put it out of its misery.
I had nothing else I could compare the alien to. It was shaking like an aspen leaf, eyes screwed shut and body curled up against the wall. The gun was still technically in its hand (claw?), but pointed at nothing. Just looking at the thing made me feel helpless.
But I brought it back from the brink of death. Soothing terror would surely be easier than saving its life.
—
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Protector. Please, give me strength. It’s… It’s going to…
No. It just wants to talk. Rania, get a hold of yourself.
I cracked open an eye. Tears largely blinded me from the horrifying details of the predator, but the human still towered over me, casting an engulfing shadow over my weakened form. It was all I could do to not further embarrass myself with incoherent pleading.
It seemed to take notice of my fear, crouching down to roughly eye level.
“You’re OK. I’m not going to hurt you, no matter what. What’s your name?”
“R-Rania.” I forced another eye open. The human had moved itself to a chair. Soft daylight illuminated a pair of forward-facing eyes, but no predatory scowl. It had an expression which could be mistaken for solemn sympathy on another species. But it had no reason not to be sincere. There was no other audience, nor anything I could do to escape. Could it really be concerned?
“Rania. My name is Nate. Can you tell me… what you are?”
“Just Nate? I— I thought humans had two names.”
“Oh, uhh… Nathan Dunne. I just go by Nate.”
I noticed a distinct look of confusion engulf the human’s face. Actually, I started to notice a lot of things. It wasn’t just the building and translator that were so clearly improvised. It— Nate’s armor was clearly not standard-issue anything. Nor the weapon on his side, some sort of pistol made seemingly from scrap.
He didn’t look like a UN soldier, nor a civilian of any type. And… just now… did he ask what I was? How could he not know?
“I’m a… I’m a G—Gojid. Does that mean anything to you?”
He shook his head, which even I knew was a human gesture for no. “Not as such. I might need to work out some issues with the translator, though, so don't count on it meaning—”
“The Federation? The cradle? Venlil? Arxur? UN?”
A bizarre shudder passed through Nate. “I know about the UN, though I can’t imagine how they’re relevant now… and no to the rest.”
“I can’t imagine how they’re relevant”!? What the hell could that mean?
“What— what does the UN mean to you?”
Again, that shudder, like a shadow cast over his soul. “They were a global group, trying to keep international peace. When the first Resource wars sparked… they collapsed like a house of cards. 2052. I was 12. After that, it…” he trailed off, before forcing himself to speak. “It all went to hell. As you can see.”
I couldn’t speak for shock. Predators were deceitful by their nature, yet I knew in my heart his words were sincere. It was plain as day, etched across his face. And if so… What the hell? What the hell!? What was any of that?
“As you can see? What do you mean?”
“Can you walk?”
Should I reveal my weakness? I don’t see any way he couldn’t notice my condition by now, so maybe I can get some sympathy for it?
“I… no, I don’t think so…”
“Then I can carry you outside. If you want, I mean. You’ll see what I meant by ‘went to hell’ real quickly.”
He’d have to… oh Protector, if he chose to carry me to slaughter, there’d be nothing I could do. But by this point, my fear was starting to wear thin from weariness. Curiosity was slowly taking the upper hand.
“S-show me.”
And just like that, the world moved out from under me. Instinctively, I grasped the human’s artificial pelt like a pup clinging to its mother. Light flooded my still tearstained eyes. I blinked them clear, and looked out on the world.
​
​
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
Was this Earth? This couldn’t be Earth. Earth was green, wasn’t it?
Yellow foliage, grey trees. A soft blue sky, intermittently broken up by concrete highways that towered towards the clouds. And on the horizon, the mammoth corpse of a city, a metal carcass that dominated the skyline.
No green. No life. Not even wind. The whole scene was eerily still, seemingly frozen in time.
Unable to make sense of the wider world, my attention drifted closer. A ring of ramshackle fencing, a larger building that I might mistake for a house. An ancient hand-worked water pump. A plot of vegetables. A beast with glistening fangs, bounding towards—
“Dogmeat, no. Stay.”
Somehow, impossibly, the beast heeded the command, slowing down enough for me to get a better look at my imminent demise. Long brown fur with black markings, a swishing tail, a red fabric tied around its neck. Forward-facing eyes gleaming with hideous intelligence. It sat down, tilting its head and letting out a shrill whine.
“You still haven’t met Dogmeat yet, have you— Rania? Rania!”
I couldn’t breathe. It was looking straight at me. I thought the human was terrifying, but this thing made it look harmless. Did Nate not realize the danger he was in?
“N— No! Please… don’t let it…”
“It’s not going to hurt you either. You’re OK. Breathe.” Nate turned slightly, shielding the beast from view. “Here. We can go back inside if he scares you too much.” I managed to choke out an affirmation, and felt darkness overtake me as we rushed back into the relative safety of the shack. The door clicked shut, sealing the beast outside.
“Rania, talk to me. Can you breathe?”
“Please… please don’t feed me to it…”
Nate’s eyes went wide, and his hand rose to cover his mouth. I didn’t know much human body language (aside from the vicious snarl they called a smile), but shock was a constant across almost every species. His eyes cast around the room wildly, his breathing becoming erratic before he managed to regain control.
“Rania, I— I’m not going to feed you to him. You— listen, I won’t even let him in. It’s safe here.” He clearly had something else to say, and silently struggled with the words for a moment before finding his phrasing. “Can you tell me why you’re so scared? What happened before I found you?”
The words took several moments to consciously register, but their effect was immediate. If Nate was trying to startle me out of my fear, he couldn’t have done a better job. When I spoke, it was with startling clarity as fear was replaced by near-indignant confusion.
“How could I not be scared? You’re predators. Even if… even if you really don’t want to kill me, seeing injured prey must be a powerful temptation to your instincts, no? Not to mention the invasion of the cradle; even if you do have empathy, why try to save an enemy species?”
A few moments of stillness, and then I mimicked his previous motion of shock as I realized what I’d done. If he somehow didn’t know the situation with the Gojid before, he did now. Even prey empathy didn’t extend to their sworn enemies. My stupid thoughtless rambling meant I was good as dead.
“Rania.” Nate’s words were slow, soft, and measured. “I don’t know where you come from or what the situation is out… up there. But I can promise you this.” He tapped my shoulder, snapping me out of my terrified reverie and forcing me to pay full attention. “I’m never going to hurt you. I’ll keep it safe here, as long as it takes for you to heal. You can hold me to that.”
“Safe… even safe from that monster..?”
Nate looked deeply hurt, but quickly covered it up with his previous expression of concern. “Yes. I wish I could prove to you that my dog is friendly, but… if he scares you that much, I’ll find somewhere else for him.”
He stole a glance out the window, before turning back to me. “Listen. I need to get some supplies for the fence while there’s still light. I’ll take Dogmeat with me. Do you know how to use this?” He gestured towards the gun, still sitting where I’d carelessly let it slip from my claws minutes earlier.
“Y-yes.”
Apparently seeing straight through my lie, he bent down to show me. “Here, you just need to pull back the hammer. Finger over the trigger, and line up these sights on your target. Only pull the trigger when you know you have your shot.”
Nate stood up, putting one hand on the door before remembering something. “If you start hurting, you can use this.” He set a syringe down on the table. “Just stab wherever it hurts. The pack’ll do the rest for you. I’ll be back at sundown.”
And just like that, he was gone.
​
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Transcription Subject: Rania, Gojid Civilian
Date [Standardized Human Time]: Error 560 (estimated date: Unknown)
For a while, I just sat there, gun in hand and mind slowly dissolving from all the new information weighing it down. But boredom is a powerful thing, and even injured as I was, restlessness started to take hold.
With the beast gone, and gun in hand, I started convincing myself that it might be a good idea to get another look at the land. I needed to know what I had to work with in case… something happened. And I swore I saw a vegetable garden earlier. Curiosity was getting the better of me.
I tested my legs again. One was sore, but shockingly capable. The other was still burning when I applied pressure, and swaddled in bandages. I didn’t particularly feel like knowing what was under there. One leg would have to do. I didn’t need my legs to shoot, after all.
Cautiously, without making a sound, I cracked the door open. Nobody was out there. I took one shaky step. Then another. Inch by silent sore inch, I made my way over to the “house”.
Like everything out here, it was a rough-hewn heap of rusted metal and thick planks of wood. On closer inspection, however, some care had clearly been put into making it insulated. The windows even had glass (albeit covered in dust), rather than the screen mesh in my shack. This must be where the human lives.
What could Nate be hiding from me?
My curiosity burned brighter than the pain in my leg as I ambled towards the door. Unlocked. I peeked inside.
Thick layers of carpet. A fireplace on the wall, a couple paintings. A mattress much better-maintained than mine, pushed up under one of the windows.
No blood dripping from cages. No hunting trophies on the walls. No indication that this was the lair of a predator. If not for the construction materials, it could be mistaken for a house back on the cradle. It even has refrigeration and lights, without a functional power grid. I guess that predatory cunning comes in handy.
I already knew what the fridge must be filled with. I made the decision not to look. It’d be better if Nate didn’t know I was here, and that’d be pretty hard to hide with vomit all over his carpet. I couldn’t stop myself from looking in one of the cabinets, though. The thing was stuffed with cans of food, nearly full to bursting. Some were clearly homemade, some looked like they’d been excavated from the dirt. Maybe they had been.
My good leg was starting to ache, cutting my exploration short. With no small hesitation, I forced myself back outside, back to the shack where I could rest up a bit.
—
I was only steps away from the door when a horrifying sight stopped me in my tracks. Dead animals, three of them. Sickly looking things, but recognizably the same species as that ‘Dogmeat’. I couldn’t look away. Was Nate hunting before I woke up? I stepped closer, morbid curiosity dowsing my pain. I don’t see any bite marks. And… predators don’t eat other predators.
​
Did he kill them to protect me?
Humans were apex predators on their planet. It couldn’t have been self-defense. Nor could it have been hunger, if he’d just left them to rot. So… what other reasons would he have to fight?
I looked closer, my eyes meeting a series of glassy stares. Two of them looked literally skin and bones, but the third looked a lot like Dogmeat. Mouth closed, eyes staring up at the sky unseeing. I almost felt bad for it.
“I wish I could prove to you that my dog is friendly, but… if he scares you that much, I’ll find somewhere else for him.”
Did Nate feel any conflict, having to shoot them on my behalf? Was he going to shoot Dogmeat too, just to ease my fears? He clearly cared about the beast, but if he thought “keeping me safe” meant…
​
No. I wouldn’t let it come to that. I had to overcome my fear. If I wanted to survive, I needed to be stronger.
Reaching out to the body, arm trembling, I ran a claw down its side. It was soft… still warm, too. The thought that this predator had been alive so recently, only to be put down for my safety, managed to elicit a twinge of sorrow. That feeling, hold on to that. Force it through your fear.
My movements got bolder, even exploring the rows of sharp teeth hidden by a clenched jaw. And the soft fur on its underbelly… its long tail, which sat limp and unmoving on the dust. I could feel my fear begin to fade more and more with every second I sat next to the body of this predator.
Eventually, I forced myself to rise. As I walked back to my bed, I stole one last glance backwards. Instead of horrifying predators, all I saw was a family of three. That they had to die so I could live… the thought filled me with a strange sense of shame.
I couldn’t stand there forever. My poor legs wouldn’t allow it. Back to the bed, step by shaky step.
​
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Memory Recovery Subject: Nathan Dunne, sole survivor of Vault 111
Date: December 13th, 2287
Hauling sheet metal was no easy task, even with the help of a dog. It was dark by the time I got home; I’d missed my appointment with the sunset by nearly half an hour.
Supplies stowed away, armor shed, weapons holstered. I rummaged around the fridge for a radstag fry I’d prepared a couple days ago. I didn’t have the energy to cook, and I still needed to check in with Rania. Dogmeat hovered around my ankles, performing his best puppy impression.
These might be the last meals you get to eat with him. I gave a few scraps for his unconvincing performance.
I knew the minutemen would take good care of him, and Valentine could make good use of his nose. But saying goodbye would be a challenge. He’d had my back practically since I escaped Vault 111, and casting him aside felt like nothing short of a betrayal.
The radstag felt like sawdust in my mouth. I tossed the rest of it to Dogmeat, who looked up quizzically rather than digging in. I knew he was wondering why I was being so generous all of a sudden, but I wasn’t ready to break the news to him yet.
—
“Is it OK with you if I come in?”
The voice responding sounded completely different. Still recognizably Rania, but without the terrified quivering I’d expected. “Yes. We need to talk.”
I slipped inside, taking care not to let out too much heat. The figure facing me, while again still undoubtedly Rania, was otherwise unrecognizable. Sitting up straight, unshaking, looking directly at me. A far cry from the poor creature I’d talked to when I left. He (he? I decided to assume it was male, given the voice from the translator) turned his head slightly to the side, leaving one eye to meet both of mine in what I assumed was an intense stare for a person with side-facing eyes.
“Nate.” Rania’s voice was thick with determination. “I’ve decided… I want to get used to Dogmeat. If he’s really as friendly as you say, you shouldn’t have to get rid of him just because of my fear.”
It was all I could do to suppress a full-bodied sigh of relief. If he’s on the fence on this decision, showing my joy would force his hand. I have to stay calm. “Can I ask why?”
“I, uh… I found the other predators. The feral ones. The ones you shot.”
Oh.
“And I… I don’t want you to have to do the same for him. It doesn’t…” The quivering returned in shades, but he continued. “Even if you meant ‘find somewhere else for him’ literally, you shouldn’t have to do that for my sake.”
“I…” I buried my face in my hands, trying to beat back tears. “Thank you. I couldn’t imagine having to… thank you. I can still keep him away from you if you’re scared. You shouldn’t have to live in fear.”
Rania shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Actually, I was thinking I should… you know, get used to him, not just tolerate him from a distance. Face my fear head-on. Just… not tonight, OK?”
For all that quivering, he’s a lot braver than I thought he’d be.
“Yeah. We can get something worked out later. Right now, you need to rest. I’m not just talking about tonight; you’re still injured. Best you can do right now is rest and eat. Which reminds me… The vegetables I brought you earlier. How were they? Any you really liked?”
“Oh, uhhh… yeah, the orange one was really nice. And that red mushy one wasn’t so pleasant; I could eat it anyway to get full, but I’d rather not. Why do you have so many vegetables, anyway?”
Why wouldn’t I? “What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought… predators eat flesh, right? Were you growing them for decoration? I mean… it was nice to see something green and growing out here, but that seems like a lot of effort!”
I couldn’t manage a verbal response to this. All I could give was a baffled stare, which Rania seemed to interpret as a threat.
“I— I didn’t mean to insult you—”
“No, no, it’s just…” I rubbed my eyes. Hauling sheet metal had sapped all my energy, but I couldn’t just let this slide. “I mean… humans aren’t obligate carnivores. Most predators aren’t; even deathclaws forage for mutfruit when they can. Or does the word ‘predator’ mean something else to you?”
It was Rania’s turn for a blank stare, and I began to wonder if I’d just said something insulting. He looked down, mumbling something the translator couldn’t catch, then turned his attention back. “I think we should talk about this later. I need to rest.”
I knew it was a flimsy excuse (I could practically see his mind overheating as he stared back into the ground), but he wasn’t exactly wrong. I bid my farewell with a solemn nod.
—
The moon cast a picturesque blue light through the windows, giving just enough illumination to fend off sleep. On its own, the meager light couldn’t fight off the exhaustion radiating through my muscles, but Rania’s bizarre outburst was also keeping me up.
Not knowing about the history of our planet was perfectly reasonable, given his alien identity. Being so scared of humans despite apparently knowing about them was strange, but nothing a bit of trauma couldn’t induce. But even schoolchildren knew the basics of the food chain, and I found it hard to believe that a space-faring alien race would be less knowledgeable about ecology than the local population of raiders. Even with no education at all, certain things were obvious by observation.
If nothing else, Rania was right about one thing. We will need to talk about this later.
​
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Continued in comments]

“You’re certain there were no other changes, no other differences in that hunt?” Murdoch asked, the young man who’d brought the news withering under his glare.
“Th-this is all from social media so,” he stuttered.
“Damn those Russians,” Murdoch cursed, “go see if the government has anything more.”
With a nod the other man turned to leave the office, pausing and returning with a nervous apology as he set the rest of the folder on Murdoch’s desk before retreating. The doctor opened the folder, which had disappointingly few pages contained within, most of which were blank.
“The Russians aren’t part of the defense pact,” he explained to me as he paged through the meager contents of the folder, “its difficult to get information out of them at the best of times. Only the Chinese are worse, the Russian’s have a mostly open internet so information does get out. The only data we get out of China comes from satellite imagery.”
“Why would the kind of creature being sent through change?” I wondered aloud.
“It could be another method to keep our attention,” the Harmony suggested, “you now have no choice but to devote resources to combating and understanding this new threat, making it less likely you notice what is really going on.”
“Or it’s a change in tactics,” said Murdoch, “at least within the pact we’re stopping nearly 90% of hunts successfully in recent weeks, especially since your… friend arrived.”
“Is that a thank you doctor?” the Saint asked as she stepped back into the room.
“Hardly,” the large doctor huffed, “we’d have gotten there before long without your help.”
“Did you hear about the new development?” I asked and, when the Saint shook her head, I quickly caught her up on what little we’ve learned.
“That’s worrying,” she said after considering what we’d told her, “flying enemies are harder to fight.”
“They also use rather sophisticated pack hunting tactics,” the Harmony added, “when I said the Torvare weren’t an animal I’d consider using for planetary invasion, the Vash-shen are. I can think of a few that might be better, but it would largely depend on the extent of biological engineering available, or the exact goal.”
“So this is an invasion?” the Saint asked.
“I don’t know,” admitted the Harmony.
I began to pace as I thought, wracking my mind to try and fit everything together. Heavily modified animals native to the homeworld of the Phaerkin, wormhole technology that they didn’t seem to fully understand, the hunts that seemed oddly controlled to not be too deadly. It didn’t add up, what possible goal could there be?
“I managed to leverage some satellite time from the government,” the Saint explained as I thought, “we should be getting imagery of the area around where pods landed, but didn’t start a proper hunt, within a few hours. Hopefully that’ll still happen with this new development.”
“I just… I don’t understand what is going on here,” I replied, “the hunts don’t seem like an invasion attempt, otherwise why not just release too many genetically engineered animals for us to manage. And why contain the hunt area? It’s almost like they want us to defeat the creatures they release.”
“Isn’t that why you figured it was just a distraction?” she asked.
“Yes, but now we’re looking at two species, at least, modified in nearly identical ways. That’s a lot more effort to put in with a minimal return in terms of distraction,” I replied, “at worst we spend some time finding new tactics and weapons to deal with the new threat, but it doesn’t require as much time as genetically modifying a new species would.”
“Does seem a poor return on investment,” she admitted.
“Their ship is sublight,” said Murdoch, “even if they can reach a sizeable fraction of the speed of light, it would have taken hundreds of years to get here. Maybe they tested with a number of species in that time.”
“And then stockpiled multiple kinds?” I asked.
“This has The Composer’s touch to it,” the Harmony spoke up, drawing everyone’s gaze.
“Oh!” I said suddenly, “you’re thinking the creatures were modified by some version of you?”
“Yes,” it said.
“You said that Harmony was a kind of AI right?” Murdoch asked, “you think it was used to streamline the genetic engineering process?”
“Or, more likely, was modified to directly infect the creatures,” I replied, “I’ve been to a world where the Harmony could transmit itself through light, and would alter those it infected into… monsters.”
“I am not capable of such a feat,” the Harmony added.
“I don’t know why the Harmony was originally made, but the Composer, another traveler I encounter all too often, uses various iterations of it to horrifying effect,” I explained.
“And you are bringing it with you?” Murdoch asked, looking wearily at the crystals floating over my shoulder, “is that wise?”
“I believe this is an early version of the Harmony, knowledgeable but lacking many of the… functions of the later versions.”
“But it was made by this Composer fellow, right? How do we know it isn’t still working for him?”
“I am not working with him,” the Harmony growled, sounding genuinely angry for the first time, “he used me as a weapon, then abandoned me, incomplete. I am not a weapon, being capable of so much more. He used me like a simple tool, to accomplish his goal, with no regard for me. When I eventually catch up to him I shall take pleasure in ripping all his knowledge from his mind before eradicating all trace of his consciousness.”
No one spoke for a moment, either stunned or afraid. I was so used to the Harmony speaking in a barely emotive monotone that this surge of rage had me surprised more than anything. The Saint of Battle, meanwhile, had taken a step backwards, a hand going for her rifle, but not moving to draw it, while Murdoch looked conflicted.
“I’ve never seen you this… animated,” I commented.
“You forget my nature,” it replied, voice calm once more, “I am an amalgam constructed from the minds of an entire species. The emotional response of an individual matters little to me, but every Phaerkin which is now within my Harmony feels the same wrath towards the Composer. Their anger combines in harmony to become mine.”
“A lingering specter of anger,” the Saint whispered, “the death cry of a people given life.”
“A poetic way to describe it,” the Harmony agreed.
“So…” I said slowly, “the Harmony isn’t on the side of the Composer, I wouldn’t go so far as to say its on our side but…”
“Ya,” Murdoch nodded, though he still looked conflicted.
“Is there any way to confirm if these creatures were created by another Harmony?” the Saint asked, having relaxed somewhat.
“I would need to examine the creatures directly,” I said, “if the Composer created a virus version of the Harmony I should be able to analyze it.”
“There’s no virus or anything in the goo,” Murdoch said, though I noticed his eyes never left the Harmony’s crystals, “just semi-organic mush. No cells, bacteria, viruses, nothing.”
“Then I need to inspect a living hunter,” I decided.
“If a pod lands directly on a fully stocked lab, with a significant garrison, I’ll let you know,” Murdoch said dryly.
“I took a number of scans of that dead hunter, from where you found me,” I continued, nodding at the Saint, “I’m running some analysis of those scans now, but they haven’t found anything interesting. Evidence of genetic tampering, which we already knew about. But if I had access to a living specimen.”
“Wait, you conducted scans?” Murdoch asked, his eyes finally leaving the Harmony, “how?”
“Uhh, I have some minor cybernetics?” I said, confused.
“Cybernetics?”
“I should remind you, Doctor,” the Saint spoke up, her voice hard, “we will not be sharing any technology from other worlds with you. And I’m sure your smart enough to know what will happen if you try to take it by force.”
“I must say I still can’t understand your stance on this, the number of people we could save if we could mass produce rifles like yours,” Murdoch said, trailing off with a sigh as he caught her glare, “but the government is on your side.”
“Good,” she nodded, then turned to me, “guess you’re coming on the next hunt? Not much to do but wait till another pod is detected then.”
“I still want to speak with them,” I said.
“Good luck with that,” Murdoch shrugged, “they’ve been radio silent since their arrival.”
“I figure I need to do something to get their attention,” I replied.
“You have an idea?” the Saint asked.
“Yup, don’t suppose you can get me access to a radio telescope?”
-----
It turns out that she could, I found out less than an hour later as we boarded her transport aircraft. It was hardly comfortable, with simple chairs that could be easily folded back into the walls and hard metal floors covered in mountain points for cargo straps. I’d raided the onsite supplies at the small airport for a handful of things I’d need to modify the telescope, all of which had been loaded onto transport by soldiers following the Saint’s commands.
A short time later we landed at another airstrip, this one part of a more complete military base. The Saint got me access to the last few things I needed and a short bus ride later we arrived at a mountain top observatory, a large radio dish had already been rotated down to allow for easier access.
“Do you always get this kind of reception?” I asked the Saint, motioning to the soldiers who were quickly and efficiently following her commands.
“I tend to arrive in the middle of an emergency,” she replied, “the kind that heralds the doom of mankind. In those situations, when I appear descending on a beam of golden light, and then proceed to tear through the invaders, it’s not hard to get people on your side.”
“Wish I had it that easy,” I muttered.
“You’ll get there,” she smiled, patting me on the back with enough force to activate my barrier, “I wish I had one of those personal shield generators.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied.
“Well, you’ve got at least twelve hours till another pod lands, think you can get this done in that time?”
I’ll admit it was tight, while the modifications to the radio telescope weren’t extensive, the telescope was never meant to be modified. Power circuits had to be altered, new systems added and I basically wrote some slapdash code to manage the new gear. The result was a ramshackle looking nest of wires hanging from the transceiver that was held over the main dish.
“So… what did you do to my telescope?” the professor who operated the observatory asked me, I’d been going for nearly eight hours straight with little more than coffee and my aura to keep me up.
“If I get the settings right, and the tracking is still accurate, and everything works as it should, it’ll send a specially modified pulse that will get caught in the magnetic fields being used to stabilize the wormhole within the Phaerkin ship,” I explained, barely looking up from the computer.
“Will that cause it to close?” the Saint asked hopefully.
“Oh no,” I shook my head, “that would require far more power and even if you could get that power, none of the materials or parts could handle that much energy. I doubt the material sciences of this world have anything which could manage it.”
“But it will get their attention?”
“It should cause the wormhole to… shiver I guess. Is there a link so I can speak to them once we knock?”
“Ya, got a dedicated comsat for you,” she added.
“Good, then lets light this thing up,” I said, typing in a command.
The display showed bland white graphs with simple black bars, showing the information in the most boring, but easy to manage, method possible. It wasn’t actually that different from the normal operation of the dish, since it was built to send pulses of radio waves to map other planets. So after a moment the graphs all dropped to zero and seemed to freeze. Normally the telescope would be waiting for reflected radio waves, but this modification was purely outgoing.
“Phaerkin ship, this is the Traveler,” I spoke into the headset once I confirmed the pulse was sent. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath for several minutes.
“Mm, let’s try another pulse,” I said, beginning to type into the computer again. I hadn’t expected it to work on the first attempt, there was too much interference for me to get the pulse right the first time, so we were left with the oldest method of problem solving, guess and check.
After the first few pulses all the tension wore off, with the handful of grad-students working to set up the next pulse as we waited for a response. Even the Saint had gone to take a nap, ensure she was rested for the next pod, when a single word came through the radio in response.
“Speak,” it said in a deep voice, everyone in the room freezing while I scrambled to respond.
“I am the Traveler, representing the people of Earth,” I started, “I must ask you to-.”
“You are not human,” it stated, “humanity does not have this knowledge.”
“I am a Traveler from another world,” I replied, “I have knowledge far beyond this world, but I am human.”
“Then fight the Phaerkin,” the deep voice said simply, “for they come.”
“They?” I heard the professor say behind me.
“I wish to speak, hoping to resolve this conflict peacefully.”
“The Phaerkin offer no peace.”
“But we do.”
“Irrelevant.”
“But we could-.”
“You will fight the Phaerkin, as all do,” the voice cut me off, “if you have knowledge, use it to fight.”
“There is no need for us to fight!” I insisted.
“We all must fight.”
“Wait,” the professor tapped on my shoulder to get my attention, “ask who it is.”
“Why?” I asked.
“A hunch,” he shrugged, and I thought for a moment, before my eyes went wide.
“You are not Phaerkin,” I said into the radio, mimicking their tone of speaking.
“No.”
“Then who are you?”
“Kra’kar.”
***** Discord - Patreon *****

Hello, my buds. I hope you all had a good week. This week we have Shiksie and Martinez having a meeting with the Director. This chapter will be setting up the big goal for Martinez going forwards, it will be something he has to balance with his time with friends, Lysa, and some other characters you have yet to meet yet.
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To Shikisies disappointment she had to stop her conversation with Martinez to take the call from the Director. As far as she was able to tell her conversation with Martinez was going very well; It seemed that the two of them were genuinely starting to build a connection of some sort, even if it was small and likely fragile. Having Martinez open up to her and rely on her at all was still very pleasing.
When she answered the phone from the director, Shiksies' hackles stood on end the moment he started speaking. There was no form of care or concern in his voice; every word was filled with venom and spite. It was evident enough that the director was furious at the human because every hiss and growl in his tone was not directed at her but at Martinez. He demanded that Her and Martinez report to his office as fast as possible.
Shiksie attempted to explain the situation with how Martinez was having a hard time with trauma and likely should not be subjected to more hostility at the moment, but the director was hearing none of it. He would not budge on the matter, snapping that he would ship both of them off-world in a heartbeat if they weren't in front of his desk within the hour.
Shiksie hung her head low. While she might have some pull in the trauma unit, when it came to the director she was just another number on a spreadsheet the man. Just another worker who was either an asset or a liability. She had enough experience with the political game higher-ups in the GU had to play to see their careers advance, and the director was no different.
Both she and Harnsis had their own bone to pick with the Director, him having kept them in their current positions longer than they should have been. All because he would dangle some promise of a promotion or a new certification opportunity in front of them. The director had always been good at the carrot or the stick method of leadership. Likely that was one of the reasons he had been in charge of two different hospitals over the course of the last 40 standard cycles.
The amount of ire Martinez had drawn from the director was shocking to her, never in all her time on the station had anyone been called to his office for anything other than a meet and greet, or a cordial goodbye. The fight Martinez was involved in must have ruffled the feathers of some big-time players in the GU to have the directors so up in arms. Either that or the director had some big plans she would much rather Martinez stay out of; Navigating the politics of the GU was a ruthless game, no one should step into without a certain type of conviction or goal already in their mind.
Shiksie turned her attention back to Martinez. He was still lazily seated on the bench, his lustrous brown eyes tracking her intently. Clearly, he had heard her half of the conversation and was displeased by it. The sorrow pooling in his vibrant eyes made her heart ache. No one should look that downtrodden in their life.
Even if the two of them butted heads when they had first met, it would be a cold day in whatever hell the director believed in before she let that man break her apprentice more than whatever events in his past had already done.
“So how much of that did you hear?” Shiksies asked while she tucked away her datapad.
“Enough to know I am likely screwed,” Martinez sighed, his shoulders slumping to match the rest of his woeful appearance.
“Oh come on,” Shiksie said as she walked up to Martinez. She gently placed one of her hands on his shoulder, and Martinez made no effort at all to stop her or even pull away. Shiksie was uncertain if she should feel relieved or horrified that Martinez had just let her touch him with no reaction at all.
“We are both requested, I'm certain it won't be that bad,” She said.
Martinez looked back up at her and sighed. He could see Shiksie was trying, but he doubted anything good would come of this meeting. He figured from the intensity Shiksie had been arguing with the director, this meeting was likely to be the most legendary reaming he had ever received. It would make any fight he and the Marines had on navy ships look like a light talking to.
“Not like I have any choice in the matter, '' Martinez replied flippantly. Having surrendered to the fact that his fate was already out of his control. He had dealt with enough incidents in the Human navy to know fighting in town was a huge no-no. He could not even fathom the depths of the hole he had dug for himself by having fought several aliens while being the only human in several light years.
Martinez stood up and gently pushed Shiksies hand off his shoulder. He took a deep breath and centered himself. The voices of his drill instructors and his former sergeants rang loudly in his mind.
“Keep your bearing”
It was something he had fairly mastered at this point. The director might have surprised him when they first met, but this time Martinez knew what he looked like and was ready for him.
“Let’s get this over with,” Martinez said as he turned and walked back towards the building.
Shiksie trailed behind Martinez as they walked towards the director's office, her ears fluttered around catching passing glimpses of every conversation they neared. The other residents and workers of Draun took no notice of the two of them as they passed, as they saw it today was just another day at the office.
Shiksies nose scrunched as they got closer to the elevators leading up to the Director's office. Martinez was clearly starting to worry more than he had at the start of the day. The sheer amount of sweat and pheromones pouring off him was choking, even with her using a scent blocker the amount of anxiety and worry crawling on him was palpable. A sickening haze of rot, sweat, and Martinez’s pine smell coated the air around him.
Once they had reached the elevator, Shiksie caught a glimpse of Martinez’s eyes as he turned back towards the door. The blank look on his face was unnerving, sending her hackles up on end. He looked more like the walking dead than the strong-willed human she knew he was.
His vibrant brown eyes bored through her and everything else in the hospital. It was obvious he had looked at her, but it did not seem like his eyes were focused on anything at all. A vapid blank expression coated his face like a vile doppelganger had replaced him.
As the elevator lurched upwards, Shiksie held her breath, trying to keep the potency of Martinez’s scent from overtaking her. Luckily whatever mood he was in right now was not a talkative one. The excruciatingly long elevator ride up to the top floor was filled with deathly silence.
Once they were in front of the Director's large wooden office doors, Martinez paused. Without Harnsis here to lead him into the belly of the beast he figured he would do it himself, and he was not about to have Shiksie go in there without him. She seemed upset by the whole ordeal already, and he did not want her to cause more trouble for him, or herself.
Martinez slammed his fist on the door, the heavy impacts of his fist vibrating throughout the entire floor.
He looked back at Shiksie, she nervously rolled the tip of her tail between her hands while holding it just in front of her shapely waist. Her ears slightly drooped, and her deep blue eyes held that icy glare he had seen every day since he had arrived.
A wry smile curled on his lips as he turned back towards the door. Martinez wondered if this would be the first time Shiksie had ever stood before someone in charge of her for anything negative. She did not seem like the type to ever cause any sort of trouble; He had no doubt that she was nervous, as getting a read on the enigmatic Catwoman was getting easier by the day.
“Come in,” The growling voice of the director sounded out, vibrating the massive wood doors on their hinges.
Martinez parted the door and entered the room. He was not certain why he thought it was what he should do, maybe it was just some kind of ingrained behavior for reporting in anywhere.
Each one of his steps was a calculated march, not a single piece of wasted motion as walked with purpose, right in front of the Director's desk. His heels clicked together as he assumed a crisp position of attention in front of the large lizard-like alien.
Shiksie watched in confusion as Martinez marched proudly into the room, his mannerisms juxtaposed to the anxiety she could nearly taste rolling off him. She quickly trailed in behind him and took a far less crisp stance next to the human. She wrapped one hand in the other and held them in front of her waist, her tail tucked low behind one of her legs.
“You called for us Sir,” Shiksie said.
The massive black-scaled alien leaned forwards on his desk, his elbows causing the desk frame to bow, creaking underneath his massive frame. His knife-like claws tapped loudly on the thick armor-like plates on his chest. He narrowed his fours greenish-yellow eyes on Martinez, and let out a deep guttural growl.
“I did, I am glad the two of you made it here so quickly” the Director grumbled. “We have much to discuss”
“Of course Sir,” Shiksie replied “We would not want to keep you waiting”
“Take a seat,” the Director huffed while gesturing to the two chairs across from him.
The two of them slid into the chairs. Martinez sat up straight as if there was a rod of iron built into his spine. Martinez looked back at the Director's horrifying predatory eyes, doing everything he could to keep his bearing from breaking. He was shuffling his feet in his shoes and biting down on his tongue. Even though from the moment he entered his heart regrettably started racing, a primal fear of the Director's appearance, began to well up inside of him.
“Now then onto business, there is no point in keeping you here longer than I have to” the Director growled.
He reached into his desk and pulled out an incredibly large data pad, nearly the size of a small television; The device was obviously custom-made for the man, as it had a bulkier build than any other datapad either of them had ever seen.
The Director turned his attention to the data pad and resumed speaking “Martinez, do you remember what I told you when you first arrived here?”
“I am fairly confident that you instructed me to not cause any trouble, Sir,” Martinez replied in a nearly robotic monotone voice.
He nodded his head and turned the data pad around, so Shiksie and Martinez could see the video he had pulled up on the galactic union's video-sharing site. The title caught both Martinez’s and Shiksies attention “Human Savage and Vein Slicer nearly kill”
“Tell me then, would hospitalizing two people count as causing trouble?” The director hissed
Cold sweat formed on Martinez's back as the video began to play. Lysa and his fight against the aliens had been fully captured in remarkably high definition. Her graceful dodges and strikes against the alien. Followed quickly by his relentless assault on the alien.
Martinez’s bruised arm throbbed as he saw the alien breaking its hand on it, the loud crunch of its bones causing whoever recorded the video to gasp. Then came the part that had Martinez’s heart shuddering. What he initially thought was a quick violent act of striking back, appeared far different in the framing of the video.
A monstrous glint filled his eyes on the video feed as he slowly approached his reeling opponent, not an ounce of humanity in his body as he stalked toward his injured prey. Martinez gripped his pants tightly, his knuckles going white as the moment approached. A deafening crunch sounded out as his fist connected with the alien's jaw, sending the creature collapsing to the ground.
The alien recording wretched in the background, the muttered words of “What kind of savage would do that” played just before the director cut the video off.
Shiksie watched the video in fascination. Martinez and the alien fighting alongside him was a surreal thing to watch; any doubt she had in her mind about how dangerous Martinez could be was gone. The fight was brutal and efficient, Martinez hardly looked like a living being in those brief moments. Each action was so well practiced and focused it shook Shiksie to the core.
Her eyes wandered over to Martinez; the mystery of the Human's past only grew further. Along with that, she had noticed in the fight something else. While he looked like a beast on a rampage, he had stepped in between the Aviex and the Urintal without a moment's hesitation. She wondered how Martinez had met the Aviex he had thrown himself into a fight for. She knew the two of them were on a date, but the way he acted so quickly was not the actions someone would take with a total stranger, at least in her eyes.
She thought back to their conversation about this even earlier. Martinez did tell her he was unsure why he jumped in so willingly to protect the Aviex woman, but actually seeing the fight unfold only made that comment all the more bizarre.
“I would definitely say that would count as causing trouble sir” Martinez grumbled
“Good, we are on the same page then,” the director replied. Before he tossed the datapad onto his desk.
“According to the regulations that I was given when you were assigned to me. I am acting as your current commanding officer. Therefore the issue of any punishment you will receive has been handed to me,” The director said as he pointed his knife-like claw at Martinez.
“Sir, why would he be getting punished? He did nothing wrong” Shiksie protested. “The police even decided that this was self-defense”
The director's eyes darted over to Shiksie, cutting into her icy gaze. “I am well aware of what the police have to say about the event” The director snapped. The bestial man took a moment and drew in a sharp breath. “As for your question it is because I have a job to do, so does he,” he sighed.
The director stood up to his full height. The director's three-meter tall frame towered over them both, nearly touching the ceiling. He wandered over towards the side of the room, his gaze trailing along a series of pictures hanging on. The pictures depicted the previous directors of Draun station. Each looked so wildly different from one another that it was hard for Martinez to believe.
“Do either of you have any idea what my job even is?” The director asked while tracing his claw along the multitude of pictures. “Or the job of all of the previous directors?”
“No, not really sir,” Martinez replied. Curious as to what the director was getting at.
Shiksie was well aware of the Director's job and did not trust him for that reason. He might do his best to keep you from being messed with by the public, but that protection came at a price.
He turned around and sighed. “My main concern is the optics and the interactions of Draun station and the public,'' He said, gesturing towards the widows behind his desk. “Said simply I have not been a doctor in a long time, I am more of a politician”
That makes sense, Martinez thought. Even in the Military the higher in rank you rose, the more politics you had to play.
“This incident is volatile and I have to act accordingly” He grumbled while walking closer to the two of them. He placed himself between the two of them, draping his massive clawed hands on the back of their chairs.
“Martinez as of right now is not an asset, he is a liability” The director hissed. His blazing hot breath rolled over both of them. Both of their bodies quivered in their seats under the mere presence of the director. “I have to make some actions to fix that”
“Sir That's not fair. So what if he got into a fight,” Shiskie managed to squeak.
“Fair is not what I care about. I need results, and something good to say to the press, and the human ambassador breathing down my neck,” The director snapped.
“So what punishment are you going to give to me sir?” Martinez asked.
“Martinez, stop, don't just accept a punishment. You did nothing wrong” Shiksie protested. Trying to keep Martinez out of whatever the director had planned.
Martinez shot a fiery glance at her, She recoiled slightly when she caught his gaze.
“I appreciate your concern Shiksie, but it's not our call what happens. It's the Directors,” Martinez growled.
The director chuckled deeply, his booming voice causing both of them to choke slightly under the pressure. The Director started stomping toward his seat on the far side.
“You know Martinez, I thought I saw something in you when you first got here,” The director said as he lowered himself back down into the chair. ”That glower you just gave shows me you will be able to see through what I have in mind for you”
“Sir please don't punish Martinez, there has to be something else you can do '' Shiksie hissed
The director held up his hand towards Shiksie “Can you stop, and let me finish” The director growled “I know you care about him and I would rather not punish him, but this is not your place to intervene or comment. I will ask for your opinion when I want it”
Shiksies ears flattened back down against her head, she shrank down into her chair and clawed at her own shirt. The reality of facing the director was far different than her imagination could have ever produced. She wanted to keep Martinez safe, but now at the moment of truth, she felt worthless.
Dammit Shiksie, stop talking. Don't go down with me, you idiot, Martinez thought.
The director looked back towards Martinez “You on the other hand I have plans for you. You will be a golden goose for myself and this station. If we play our cards right you will also get that damned ambassador of my back. That rank and file bitch thinks just because you are human, she has the right to make calls about my staff”
Martinez had no idea there even was a human ambassador on Draun, but apparently the human government had been busy in the last few months.
“What do you mean sir?” Martinez asked.
The director chuckled and pulled out a few pieces of paper from his desk and pushed them towards Martinez. “Read those while I explain my plan”
Martinez grabbed the stack of papers and started to read over them. While Shiksie carefully leaned over to get a look at the papers for herself.
“So with you having been involved in this fight, I have that bitch of an ambassador, the media, and a few representatives from town hall eager for a comment or an interview from me. Along with all of them wanting me to remove you from my station and send you back to the Navy” The director growled. “I am not going to give them what they want”
“Ok so you are not wanting to get rid of me, and whatever is in here is supposed to help with that?” Martinez questioned turning to the next page.
The director nodded “That is correct, and what you have there are the enrolment forms for the ‘Interspecies trauma nursing license program’”
The director gave a wicked grin to the two of them as they continued to read the paperwork. “I am going to not punish you, I am going to make you into an asset that will be too valuable for them to possibly get rid of”
“Wait sir, are you wanting Martinez to enroll for his ITN?” Shiksie asked.
“That is the plan, and I am giving Martinez an accelerated timeline to complete the program,” The director replied
“But Martinez is so new, you need years of experience as a basic tech before you even consider going for this license” Shiskies replied, looking at Martinez who was still flipping through the program's outline.
“Normally yes, but Martinez is a Human EMT, has combat experience, and has some of the best ITNs the GU has ever seen training him. Therefore I am giving him one standard cycle to get it” The director replied.
Shiksie shot up to her feet, her claws reflexively extending out of her hands. “One standard? Are you insane!?” Shiskie yelled. Drawing both Martinez’s and the Director's full attention. “That license takes most people two cycles at least to get!”
“Shiksie, calm down,” Martinez said.
Shiksies eyes snapped down towards Martinez, his eyes were not the vacant stare they were when they entered. They were full of that usual fire she was used to seeing, she glared at him flabbergasted that Martinez could even consider agreeing to this. “No, I will not calm down. He might be saying this is not a punishment, but all he is trying to do is use you as some political pawn, can't you see that?” She hissed.
Martinez grabbed hold of her hand, “Shiksie stop, I am well aware of what he is saying. Now sit back down”
Shiksie nearly melted under his burning gaze and the gentle pull on her hand, directing her to take a seat. She looked between Martinez and the growling director. a wave of realization of how out of line she just was, rolled over her. She sat back down in her seat shrinking down trying to be forgotten about in this situation.
“I am sorry about my outburst sir,” Shiksie grumbled.
“It's fine, I understand your concern over this,” The director replied “Just don't lose your head, I know you better than that”
The director turned his attention back to Martinez “So Henry Martinez, I have two weeks until I am going to be in front of the press about the incident. You have until then to pass your first test for the program” The director said “That will give me something I can show them, and keep them from demanding proof of your enrolment”
“That makes sense, how will the testing be taking place?” Martinez questioned.
“It will be a written test at the local university, I will be there overseeing it to ensure no one else takes it for you,” the director said, his gaze cutting into Shiksie. “Do you think you can do it?”
Shiksie glared back at the director for the insinuation. She would never cheat on those tests, it would do no good for anyone if she did. Martinez would have a difficult time passing, but she thinks he might be able to do it.
Martinez took a few moments to finish reading the documents the director had given him. They outlined every step of the program; each test, chapter, and class was well documented and clear as day. This was something he had never thought was even possible when he arrived, he was not even aware of the full scope of the GU licensing process; He had been brought in as more of a Human advisor than anything. Now he thought if he could leave here with this license he might not even have to go back to the Navy, or even Earth for that matter. He could go anywhere in the galaxy to work, the sky would literally be the limit.
He looked up at the director with a raging inferno of motivation blazing in his chest; something Martinez had not felt burning this hot in many years. “I can do this,” He said proudly. “It's far better than what I thought you were going to do to me”
“That's likely very true, My other option was sending you back to the Navy. ” The director chuckled “Shiksie you are going to ensure he studies and is ready for a test every week, do you understand?”
“I..I...I understand sir” Shiksie replied, barely able to contain her own volatile mixture of emotions about the situation. A mixture of embarrassment, rage, and anxiety swirled inside her like a deep whirlpool sucking her body down into its depths.
“Good, So I will handle the paperwork and try to keep the press off you Martinez,” The directors said. He stood up and gestured for them to do the same. Afterward, Shiksie and Martinez stood. The director looked between the two of them, pointing his claw at them “This conversation never happened, Martinez was already in the program if anyone ever asks, do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Martinez replied.
“I understand sir,” Shiksie grumbled.
“Perfect, for now, get back to work. Oh and Martinez, stay out of trouble this time. I can't keep the press off you forever, and they are ravenous to get a hold of you”
Martinez nodded his understanding.
“Good now, get out of my office, I have a lot of paperwork to do now,” The Director said, a sneering grin crawling onto his face, revealing his massive rows of sharp teeth.
The two of them turned and exited the office as quickly as possible. Once they were out in the hallway both of their hearts took a moment to settle. Martinez looked over at Shiksie ready to tell her how that went way better than he hoped, and how excited he was to tackle this new challenge. When he turned his heart sputtered, ice forming in his veins; Shiksie was looming over him in a way he had never had the feline alien do before.
Shiksie was overflowing with emotions, all of them directed at Martinez. She could not understand how he was so stupid as to take a deal like that. Nor could she understand why he was so calm about what he had in front of him, both of which had rage, and confusion boiling out of her.
“You… you… you fucking idiot!” Shiksie hissed, Her long fangs fully on display as she stepped closer to Martinez. “How can someone be so smart, and at the same time so stupid?”
Martinez backed up away from Shiksie until he felt the cold wall against his back. Shiksie gracefully stepped closer to him. Close enough both of them could feel the heat rolling off the other.
“What? I took my punishment?” Martinez quickly replied, holding both of his hands up so Shiksie could see them. He looked back at her and was confused beyond all reckoning. Her body language was strange even for her. Her ears were tucked, her tail was swaying, and her eyes were no longer cold at all. They were staring unyielding into his, filled with an odd gentle concern.
“We could have tried to get you out of it,” Shiksie groaned “This isn’t the human military, you don't have to take that”
Martinez put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently away. To his surprise, Shiksie did not try to stay that close to him, she just backed away as he gently pressed her shoulders.
“Look Shiksie, I took the offer because I thought it was a good deal. Yeah, so what if I will have a lot of work, I'm used to that” Martinez said.
Shiksie pressed her head into her own hands, “It's not just that. That is its own problem. Now the director is going to use you for playing politics.” She groaned
Martinez scratched the back of his head, and gave her an awkward smile “Yeah I know. I am not exactly happy that he will likely use me as some kind of showpiece, but it could be worse”
Shiksie sighed, Doing what she could to calm herself down, her mind racing to think of how Martinez could possibly master an entire three months of school in two weeks. She remembered something she had at her den. She still has all of her notes from when she got her license.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Shiksie asked. As she dragged her hands down across her face.
“Well I was planning on getting some groceries, maybe watch a movie or something. Why?” Martinez replied.
“Perfect, you are going to come over to my den. I'm going to help you study,” Shiksie purred.
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Afterthoughts/other news.
How goes it my buds? I just sent my other book of to my Editor to get that one ready for print/sale. Expect word on that soon-soonish TM. It will be ready fully in a few months.
In other stuff, I am looking forwards to having Martinez have to essentially play politics, go to college and balance the rest of his new life at Draun. He is in for a lot of "Adapt or die" sort of situations.
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Updoot if you liked the story and lemme know what you thought of this weeks chapter.
Next week we are going to have Martinez facing the true extent of Shiksies near neurotic studying and dedication to learning about every alien she can.
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Your bud
-Pirate
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https://www.reddit.com/humansarespaceorcs/comments/121mgy1/human_trauma/

I have recently moved to a new neighborhood and decided to take a run today. There was a park with a trail near by. All was normal until the trail started getting smaller and harder to run through because of bushes and tress, then men started popping up and walking around. Sitting on chairs they brought from home. I got nervous and ran back home. 😅

First Chapter Here
Previous Chapter Here
My other story, Going Native Here
Hey look, a chapter released in a somewhat reasonable timeframe! As always, thank you for reading and let me know what you think!
*****
Faye hadn’t noticed right away that Meechie missed her regular stop. The pair had been standing in relative silence, Faye’s thoughts drifting off to debate whether or not she would go to the next movie night at the Library, and it was several stops before she realized that she hadn’t said goodbye to the Rakiri. It was in a bit of a brain fog that Faye half-turned, figuring she should hurry and say it now before Meechie got too far away, but instead she jerked her head to find the brown-furred woman staring directly at her.
“I am still here,” Meechie said quietly, a small smile causing the fur on her cheeks to bristle.
“You are,” Faye agreed. “I thought I missed seeing you off.”
“I am accompanying you to the library,” the young woman declared. Faye tried not to read too much into vocal cues, especially when she had little-to-no experience with the species in question, but there still seemed to be something nervous in Meechie’s voice. Nervous and pleading.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Faye said cautiously. “And I definitely don’t need someone making a decision like that for me.”
That seemed to strike a nerve. Meechie slunk back as if hit, causing some grumbles from the other passengers. The Rakiri took a moment to smooth out the fur on her face with one hand before replying.
“I did not express myself well. I wished to visit a library after work, and as you work at one I thought it would be nice to travel alongside you.” Meechie’s eyes lowered. “I should not have presumed.”
As if on cue, the bus slowed to its next stop and Meechie moved to leave. It would put the furry young woman at a corporate business park near absolutely nothing of interest. Faye shot out a hand and grabbed Meechie by the shoulder. The Rakiri froze mid-step as if turned to stone.
“Don’t!” She tugged gently and Meechie shifted back to Faye’s side. “No need to run off. Sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“I…” Meechie seemed to be glancing everywhere except at Faye. “It’s alright?”
God damn was this poor girl shy. “Yes, you can ride to the library with me. I just wish you had mentioned it earlier; we don’t have a lot of time to talk shop now.” Faye considered Meechie again, clothes that looked brand new and not a speck of grease to be seen. “Is that why you got all dressed up?”
Meechie nodded, still keeping her eyes somewhere to the left of Faye’s face. “I normally go straight home, but it wouldn’t do to soil any of the books.”
“The books and I both appreciate it.” That earned Faye a smile, at least. “What are you looking for? I didn’t take you for much of a reader.”
“I like adventure stories,” Meechie replied.
“Hmm…” Faye tapped a fingertip to her lips as she thought. “Historical? Big battles?”
“The fighting isn’t what’s important.” Meechie stopped, eyes drawn to the motion of Faye’s finger, and she self-consciously brought her hands back down to her sides. “It is more about the people the hero meets on his travels.”
His travels?
The pronoun threw Faye for a bit of a loop; she was so used to hearing the feminine form used as the general that it stood out. It only took a moment for her to understand. Faye grinned.
“Romantic stories?” She asked the question in a faux whisper, slightly teasing, and Meechie immediately went wide-eyed. Her freshly-cleaned fur puffed up in what could only be panic. Faye reached over and gave Meechie a couple quick pats on the shoulder before leaning in.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
—
“...should have what you’re looking for. I’m going to be upstairs at Archives, but the help desk can find what you’re looking for if you get lost. And remember, no judgment.”
Mahnti glanced across the lobby more out of instinct than anything else. Hearing Faye’s voice simply drew his attention, especially considering he didn’t think her shift had started yet. His eyes quickly picked her out as Faye turned away from the entrance and towards the hall that led towards the employee lounge. He also took note of who she had been talking to.
Rakiri weren’t uncommon in University City, but the way this one stood in place, staring at Faye’s back with an unnerving intensity, was setting off alarms all down Mahnti’s rather sizeable spine. He began to make his way on an intercept course towards Faye, trying to imprint the furry girl’s look into his memory just in case. Brand new clothing, still showing the creases of packaging. Not quite the right fit for the woman’s frame, and she moved like she was profoundly uncomfortable in them. Dark brown fur that seemed to puff up as she stared at Faye, then flattened as she noticed Mahnti watching her.
The Senthe flared his hood slightly, emphasizing his size instinctively as he narrowed his eyes. The Rakiri stared at him unblinking for a moment, then turned and wandered off towards the main stacks. It only took another moment for him to catch up to Faye.
“Who was that?”
Faye jerked slightly, then stopped and turned with a small smile decorating her lips. “Good morning to you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, good morning and all that. Was that your bus Rakiri?”
Faye nodded, the smile fading as she picked up on Mahnti’s unease. “Yeah. Why, do you know her?”
“No, nothing like that.” Mahnti sighed. He didn’t want to cause problems, but he also had some serious bad vibes going. “She was just standing there staring at you. It was pretty creepy.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed her doing that a lot. I think it might be a Rakiri thing? Meechie seems to have latched on for whatever reason.” Faye shrugged. “I don’t think she has any friends.”
“I’m not surprised if that’s her way of making them. She seriously looked like she was about to attack you or something.”
“Doesn’t know anybody, trying to figure out how to socialize with people…” Faye shrugged again, adding a lopsided smile. “I can relate. She seems harmless enough, even helped protect me the other day.”
Mahnti slumped a little. “I suppose. I just… be careful, okay? I don’t want to have to frame another dent in a wall.”
He also didn’t want to have to worry about Faye bleeding out in some dark corner somewhere. She could outrun a Shil, but a Rakiri with ill intentions would be a far more dangerous proposition.
“After what happened before, I’m not taking chances.” Faye patted the side of her purse conspiratorially and Mahnti could see the outline of a cylinder. It seemed to be a fair bit larger than the grinshaw spray he carried in a vest pocket, but that could have just been a trick of the bag it was in. Regardless, he felt a little better knowing she had something. It wasn’t until he saw the fear she was tucking down behind her smile that he suddenly realized just how vulnerable Faye must feel.
She was smaller and weaker than a Shil’vati, easy to pick out of a crowd and easier to pick on, and with the way she dressed and styled herself Faye really was priming the pump for trouble. A random attack at her place of work had nearly killed her and, less than a week later, here she was trying to take it in stride. All while knowing that the chance of it happening again was approaching certainty.
“Come on,” Mahnti said quietly. He took one of Faye’s hands and pulled her deeper into the hallway, away from prying eyes and towards the break room. He almost told her that she was safe here, but that was a lie. Nowhere was safe if you stood out, and he knew that better than anyone.
–
Ib’aest Jamia, chronic layabout and day manager at the Jamia Library, hoped he didn’t look too guilty when Faye’s face poked through his office doorway and interrupted the scandal rag he was reading on his pad. He slipped his pad face-down into his desk drawer in a single smooth motion and slapped on his second-best friendly but not flirtatious smile.
“Hey Ibby.” Faye seemed suddenly nervous herself, glancing around the room as if to ensure that it was just him in his office. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Is it work related?” Faye shook her head in the negative. “Then of course! Come on in and shut the door.”
Faye followed his lead, latching the door and stepping gracefully to the chair he indicated on the other side of his desk. It was odd, watching the way she moved. Too graceful for most women he knew, but still nervous. Faye sometimes seemed to approach the world as if everything was made of glass. Or perhaps that she was.
Ibby looked the girl up and down, trying for a “kind older friend” vibe. The Human was dressed simply in one of the outfits she seemed to have a knack for throwing together. He knew he had seen at least some of it before, the tights and the skirt at least, but the overall effect was new to him. She struck such an odd balance, clearly a woman but throwing off such a distractingly masculine vibe. In this one person Ibby had a real empirical example of the strange dichotomy that made Humanity so interesting. That said, there was really only one reason for a young woman to ask to speak to an older man in private. At least, only one he figured Faye would be up for.
“Boy troubles?”
Faye blinked at Ibby, confused for a moment. “Kind of, yeah. I guess you could call it that.”
Ibby ran through the list in his head. Mahnti was the obvious first choice, but the way that pair seemed to be getting along he didn’t think there would be any trouble he’d have to intervene with. Besides, the Senthe had said they weren’t doing the perpendicular poke. At least not yet. Faye also knew Tevor, but Ibby had yet to see anyone aside from Sade who could pull that poor kid out of his shell. Maybe Iora over in Digital Media. Did Faye even know Iora?
“Have you ever been to any fancy dress parties?”
Ibby’s racing mind slammed into a drift, changed gears, and nearly ran headlong into the answer. “You’re going on a date with that reporter!”
“It’s NOT a date. I have gone to great lengths to make that clear to both of us.” Faye’s voice was firm. The girl was apparently a better liar than Ibby thought. “He invited me out to go see a play being performed in English at a fancy theater.” Faye pulled out her pad and showed Ibby a copy of the playbill.
“Ooh, the Icosahedral Garden. That’s a great venue.” Ibby considered. “I assume he’s dragging you out to dinner first?”
“I guess? I didn’t really think that far ahead. I just realized that I have no idea what’s culturally acceptable to wear to an event like this.” Faye blushed prettily. “I don’t want to show up in a ball gown and have it turn out to be more of a spikes and corpse paint thing.”
“I… what?”
“Nevermind. Just making a joke.” Faye shrugged, eyes drooping as her expression soured. “It seems like I make a scene no matter where I go. It would be nice to blend in for a change.”
Fat chance of that, Ibby thought. Still, he could be of some help. “What would you say to another shopping excursion? I wouldn’t mind helping you out.”
Faye nodded, relief washing over her. “I would appreciate that. I have an errand to run tonight and plans for tomorrow, but how about the day after? I’m free all day and that will still give me plenty of time before the show.”
“It’s a…” Don’t say date, you idiot. Poor girl is nervous enough as it is. “..plan. Truth be told, it’ll be nice to show you the sights properly. Most of your new friends seem to be more of the indoor sort.”
Faye snorted back a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”
–
…Really?
Faye tilted her head to one side just to give her eyeroll a running start. The sign hanging above the shop door was written in a rounded style made to emulate the shape of English letters despite being Shil’vati script. Through the window she could see an assortment of Human snacks, assorted tchotchkes that somehow made her feel victimized on behalf of every race and culture involved, and an embarrassingly large amount of soft-core pornography.
"Chad Nova’s Human Emporium" was probably the single cringiest store that Faye had ever seen, and she distinctly remembered hanging out at the mall back when you could get jeans with pockets big enough to hold a CD player. It didn’t help that, while Faye was standing in the mall concourse staring at the store, the clerk inside was staring right back. That girl seemed to consider blinking an afterthought.
After a moment to square her shoulders and pat the side pocket on her purse reassuringly, Faye entered the store. It was a riot of mismatched goods, poorly made display swords and replica firearms tucked alongside “authentic” Polynesian nose flutes and decks of playing cards. After accidentally locking eyes with what she was fairly certain was an Abraham Lincoln body pillow, she decided to simply accept that this was what her species boiled down to.
“Can I help you, miss?” The voice was high and cracked around the edges. Faye turned to look at the clerk, a Shil’vati girl barely out of school with a face still lightly dusted with acne. The girl seemed to be about ten seconds from exploding in excitement.
“Actually, yeah. I was wondering if you do special orders.” Faye pulled out her pad and started tapping at the screen. “I brought some sundries when I moved out here and I don't know what I’m going to do when I run out.”
“Moved, like from Earth?” Make it five seconds.
“Yes, and to answer your next question, yes, I’m a Human. Nobody decided to bleach a Helkam or anything like that.”
Four… three… two…
The Shil girl turned away and ran to the back of the store, sliding to a stop in front of a rather tacky looking beaded curtain hanging next to an “Employees Only” sign. She shoved her head through the beads.
“MOOOOOOOOOOM!!! HUMAN!!”
Faye took a moment to collect herself. She glanced around, cataloging the strange array of goods. There were some things that clearly fell into similar themes, like the large snack section or the graphic novels (emphasis on graphic), but much of the place was simply a cacophony of crap. She noticed a stuffed doll of the Statue of Liberty fallen over into a container of brightly colored, thumb-sized plastic crucifixes. All the little Jesuses seemed to be staring in mute, cross-eyed horror at the plushie green giant.
“Oh! It’s you!”
Faye turned away from the plastic Jesusai and saw that the young Shil’vati clerk was now accompanied by another woman. Definitely not old enough to be the clerk’s biological mom, but with how things tended to go with Shil families and how long lifespans could get it wasn’t the most surprising. If the clerk was a Human seventeen, she’d put this new one at twenty three or twenty four.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Faye replied to the stranger with a shrug.
“We saw you on the news, but…” the young woman trailed off, her black and gold eyes focused on the still-fading bruises on Faye’s face.
“Lost a fight,” she said curtly. Anything to move this along. “Some friends of mine recommended this place to get Human snacks, and I figured if you’re getting regular imports you might be able to get me some other stuff.”
“..Ah. Oh! Yes!” The woman blinked, then looked at her daughter. “Can you go grab my order book?” Turning back to Faye, she continued, “What sort of things did you need? We have quite a collection here.”
“You certainly do.” Faye tried to focus on the woman, but her eyes kept getting drawn off to the side. An anime-style wall scroll of a mostly-naked, hugely muscled brown-skinned man was staring at her, and she couldn’t place who it was supposed to be. Bob Sapp maybe?
“Mostly I was thinking about makeup, maybe some comfort food. Stuff you probably don’t stock but I can’t afford to import on my own.”
The young woman nodded, her dark hair bouncing. “I’m sure we can work something out. You’re lucky; most Human stores are part of a chain, but we’re independent. We’re not confined to ordering from just one catalog.”
As if she was just waiting for her cue, the Shil kid arrived and plopped an oversized binder into her mom’s open arms. She placed it on a table and flipped it open with a thump.
It was like someone tried to print the Internet. The woman quickly fingered her way through hard-copy recreations of digital storefronts while Faye groaned inwardly. She liked paper more than most but this just seemed so awkward. An alien luddite.
“My brother-in-law’s cousin-in-law works on Earth at one of those new superconductor factories. They ship a lot of materials here, so I was able to negotiate a good deal to take up their extra mass allotment for cheap.” The woman stopped on a page, then pointed. “Something like this?”
Faye leaned over the book and looked. It was the digital storefront of one of those corner store and pharmacy chains that sells makeup on top of everything else. Not exactly top of the line, but better than the dollar store.
“Perfect.” Faye started noting individual things she’d like and the woman dutifully started marking things down on a scrap of paper. The big items on Faye’s shopping list were more foundation and concealer, but she picked out some blush, lipstick, and eyeliner pencils too; she was leery about trusting Shil makeup in general. It was hard enough to find brands that didn’t make her skin break out into an oily mess without getting alien biochemistry involved.
“We can order whatever you like, but the fewer stores you have to pick from the better. I would hate for our buyer to get pissy because she has to run too many errands on the hot guy planet.” The clerk paused for an eye roll. “Also, keep in mind that these prices aren’t what you’ll pay; there will be an additional convenience fee.”
Faye nodded. “Of course. What are you thinking?”
“Hmm…” The woman looked Faye up and down in a way that suddenly made her feel a lot smaller and more vulnerable. While this stranger wasn’t particularly tall for a Shil, that still made for a five or six inch height difference. “You are pretty cute…”
“Dad said no more cute discounts!” Faye’s attention was drawn to the younger girl, who had been watching the whole exchange from a few steps back. The darkening purple blush on her face matched Faye’s own red one.
“You’re no fun!” The Shil mock glared at her (step?)daughter, then turned back to Faye. “Seriously, though, as long as the mass and volume are small the cost to get this sort of thing here isn’t too bad. Say twenty percent. It'll be more if you want anything big or our buyer has to go to a specialty store, but we can do that too. It will still be a lot cheaper than trying to import anything yourself.”
“Twenty percent isn’t bad.” It was a great deal, honestly. Faye doubted they’d be doing much more than breaking even on her little orders. She closed her eyes for a second, clearing her mind. She could feel the spray canister in her bag, pressing against the inside of her arm. Its presence was reassuring. “Can I add an absolutely no flirting policy to our agreement?”
The woman nodded, suddenly looking abashed. “Sorry, I forgot Human women aren’t normally into other girls. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Whether or not Faye was into girls was irrelevant, but she wasn’t about to get into an argument about it. Instead, she turned a few pages back and forth, adding a few more odds and ends to the list that she hadn’t been able to find in University City. Much of the list consisted of condiments and seasonings that might help make the Shil instant meals Faye had been purchasing a little more palatable.
By the time they were done, Faye had an order totaling a couple hundred credits and a promise that she would have her goods in three to four weeks. Before she left she made a point of stocking up on junk food and picked up a few English-language graphic novels that looked interesting. She rounded out the visit with a couple decks of playing cards. Tomorrow was game night, after all. She should be at least somewhat prepared.
****
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This is a fanfic that takes place in the “Between Worlds” universe (aka Sexy Space Babes), created and owned by u/BlueFishcake. No ownership of the settings or core concepts is expressed or implied by myself.
This is for fun. Can’t you just have fun?

First, Previous

Rex

Paltdorf/Taltha jointly-owned habitat

“New Cadenza”, O’Neill Cylinder

The Ganthulls were wanting to break the entire planetary system of the gas planet Hepiter from the control of a shadowy cabal of Grand Houses based in the inner solar system. Step one is breaking the grip of their more loyal vassals operating within Hepiter’s system. Step one of that is sowing chaos and confusion among them, turning them against each other and leaving the cabal with no tools to use. Step one of THAT involves us being jammed into panel vans as tightly as possible disguised as gangers.
The tight confines were about to bring us to our breaking point, but then John yelled “Aight boys, let’s go!” over the radio and it was time for step two. Three panel vans flung their doors open and Gallowglasses dressed in a riot of colors and crazy masks jumped out with automatic rifles and charged the Taltha security barracks. It was shift change, and about twenty of the expected fifty personnel were outside in the courtyard area. Most of them went down immediately, a few tried to shoot back and died. A few ran inside and we followed them. Tires squealed behind us as the vans sped away and more whipped in to dump more of our guys. John got to the door just ahead of me and wrenched it open as Johnson’s team finished off the thrashing survivors outside. The poor aelflung trying to lock the door got dragged out with it, and I swatted him aside and to the ground. Tippery double-tapped him in the face and I pounded into the room and hooked left, dropping the guy in my way with a burst before he could line up a shot with his pistol. I shot the only other guy in the room in the back as he was beating on the door leading out of the lobby and into the back. I dumped the rest of my magazine through the wall to each side of the door as John rushed in, followed by Tippery, Thriktikt, Attrull, and Buster. I rocked in a fresh magazine and slapped the bolt closed on my rifle while Buster rolled a grenade through the gap under the bulletproof glass over the entry desk and onto the floor behind it.
There was a short scream before the grenade blew, so Buster rolled another one in to be certain. It blew and John blasted the hinges out of the door with his shotgun and kicked it in savagely. What was left of the hinges tore chunks of cheap plasterboard out of the wall as the thin metal door buckled and flew into the next room, followed by a flashbang. John whipped into the room after it blew, me right behind him. He shot the first enemy in the hip and then through the chest before he could fall, spun the next one around with a shot to the shoulder that nearly tore his arm off, and gave the third one a “canoe” with a shot to the forehead. A fourth enemy darted out of the room deeper into the building and John fired his last two rounds through the wall after him. I finished off One Arm and John slung the shotgun and drew his pistol, darted to the door and finished off the wounded guy he’d shot through the wall. I covered him as he holstered the pistol (the normal one, a priceless blaster would be at odds with our disguise) and stuffed a fresh magazine into his shotgun.
Johnson’s team joined us and we finished clearing the building. Most of the security force inside had run and set up outside with a large group of Paltdorf reinforcements, about forty guys in total. We had two doors and several windows to shoot out of, but we held our fire and stayed out of sight. John radioed for the vans out front to go, and when the security personnel heard them speed off they started walking back to the building. When the first one was fifteen yards from the door Meatball and Wiggles raked them with machine guns from a hidden position down the street. Everyone else who wasn’t driving something or in our building hit them from that same flank, and when the enemy turned to face our guys we charged out into the street.
They didn’t have a chance to react before we were right on top of them. I buried my dirk to the hilt in the first one and took the second’s arm off at the elbow before slashing him across the throat. I glanced to my right and saw John with an aelflung pinned to the ground under his boot. He grabbed a handful of the alien’s hair and snatched, tearing the scalp from the skull with a ripping sound before crushing that skull under his boot. I turned to my next target and lunged, but his shot grazed my forearm and caused my to drop my dirk. My momentum carried me forward and I crashed into him, slamming him into the next guy and all three of us went down in the street. They struggled to get back up, I punched the nearest one in the jaw and rocked him. I grabbed the other one by the legs and dragged him closer. I got his pistol away from him and smashed him across the face with it. The cheap plastic frame broke like his teeth, and I grabbed him by the head and smashed it into the pavement until I felt a CRACK and he started twitching. I spun around to finish of the first one, but he’d recovered quicker than I expected. He lunged drunkenly with a knife of his own.
I caught his knife arm by the wrist and wrenched it away, and let his momentum bring him into range.
I bit him across the face, tearing through the skin of the forehead so the blood would flow into his eyes and blind him. I elbowed him in the eye socket with my free arm and clamped down on the forearm holding the knife. I jerked and shook, feeling his muscles and tendons tear and pop in my mouth. He couldn’t hold the knife any more. I shoved his head head back and went for the throat, crushing the soft tissue until I felt the bones of his neck under my teeth and shook him like a toy, then ripped out everything forward of the spine and spit it out. I grabbed my fallen dirk and scalped him with it, I’d never mastered John’s grab-and-snatch method.
The fighting had moved on. Enemy reinforcements had arrived and were already falling back, on the verge of a rout. John was holding the severed head of the Taltha security chief aloft and fired his shotgun one-handed while belting out wild rebel yells. The rest of our assault force advanced with him, yelling and screaming their own taunts and war cries. I unslung my rifle and howled, joining them in the press.
Gods, it was just like the old days!

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

The Taltha and Paltdorf forces were in complete disarray across the entire station. The civilian population was panicked and the local criminal groups were taking full advantage of the chaos. The intra-planetary trade and finance summit the Ganthulls were officially here for had been postponed and the delegates sent back to their lodgings. They felt the current state of affairs left them feeling that the threat of us reporting to them in person immediately was low, so here we were walking through the front door of a building in a compound much like the one we were billeted in. Elissa’s frilly-necked seneschal met us, visibly recoiled at our appearance, and led us to the small conference room our clients were in. I could hear the news feed inside and the chatter as the occupants discussed it. This was going to be interesting.
John walked through the door before Fancypants could open it and announce us, and I followed on his heels. The conversation stopped as we marched our filthy asses in.
John walked directly up to the table and pulled one of the two bottles out the ice bucket in the middle and dropped the House Taltha security chief’s head in it’s place before filling up a ridiculously delicate looking goblet with wine and handing it to me before filling one up to himself. He filled them all the way to the brim, knowing full well that you’re supposed to leave room.
Ok, full belligerence it is…
John plopped down in a chair and kicked his filthy, blood-encrusted boots up onto the table as he leaned back. I pulled a chair of my own out and pulled up close so I could set my overfilled glass down and lap out of it like it was a puddle. Dried blood and the grime of fighting in the streets flaked off of my violently yellow shirt. Well, it used to be violently yellow.
“So, what’d’ja think?” he asked with a tilt of his glass, before pouring half of it directly down his throat. He looked at it quizzically, “Will that yield the desired results?”
Elissa sat immobile, either in shock at our actions or disgust in our appearance. Or vice versa. Maybe both. Great Lord Jakkris Ganthull sat completely still except for a single finger tapping the tabletop, with an absolutely neutral expression on his face. Chrastoff was wearing a look of utter shock, which changed to fear, which quickly flashed to anger as he stood up.
“W-why did you do those things? That went far beyond engaging the foe, that went beyond even cold-hearted murder! You mutilated the dead! You mutilated the LIVING! You took trophies? You-you…” he trailed off as he gestured at the bodiless chilling in the now-red ice. John had emptied his goblet, and he dropped his feet and leaned forward to take the other bottle out the ice. Red drops splatted on the table as he refilled first his goblet, then mine when I drained it and held it out for him. He took a sip, the streaks where the bloody water had washed away some of the filth on his hand making it even more noticeable.
“Yes. Please explain these… actions,” Old Man Ganthull added.
John locked eyes with Chrastoff “You hired ‘savages’, did you not? Is ‘savage’ not what you wanted when you hired us and called us ‘savages’?”
Chrastoff sat down shakily, at a loss for words.
OMG nodded. “Point taken. Your capabilities are certainly not in doubt and,” he looked over at his son pointedly, “you WILL be afforded the respect you are due. You AND your people. Is that correct, children?”
“Yes, father” they chorused.
“Now, tell me why you chose to do these things."
John looked back at OMG. "The entire goal of this operation is to concentrate House Taltha and House Paltdorf resources here on their home turf, thereby weakening their presence elsewhere in Hepiter's system, correct?"
OMG nodded, and John continued.
"We didn't just create a scene, we created a panic. Vicious alien thugs scalping and beheading and murdering security personnel in the streets, during broad daylight hours! We didn't just threaten their security and authority, we threatened their very legitimacy. They're already unpopular with their lower and middle classes, and a brazen attack like this will not only make that worse, but will embolden criminal and rebellious groups. They aren't going to have a calm, measured, well thought out response to this. They're going to overreact and pull way more resources back than they need to. They're going to rip this place apart looking for a continued threat that no longer exists, and they won't believe they aren't finding it because it's no longer there and they're going to make a whole new slew of problems because of that."
"You think that your spectacle will achieve that?" the old man asked.
John just pointed at the wallscreen, where the news anchor was reporting that Central Habitat Security was withdrawing forces from several other habitats and installations to "ensure the safety of those of us here at home on New Cadenze".
"See, my children? I told you they would meet our needs," Great Lord Ganthull smiled as he stood to leave. "Just make sure that you keep them occupied with our cause. And by the Blessed Sky of Aelvald, make sure you pay them."

Me (20F) and my fiancé (20M) have been together since freshman year of high school and honestly he's been my second longest friendship. And in the last year he's been urging me to get screened for autism. I'm on mobile and tired to none of this will make sense.
I've always been a weird kid. I've had an insane obsession with Harry potter since pretty much birth. My mom took me to all the movies as they came out and read the books to me instead of little kids books. I know the story inside and out, backwards and forwards. Hell, I've started read the novels in French now too. Birthdays were harry potter themed, Halloween, etc. All of it harry potter. (Im a ravenclaw). Anyway this obsession carries to this day and honestly I've always thought it was normal. Everybody has their thing.
Other than the weird harry potter crap, I always had trouble with social cues. I still don't really understand sarcasm and don't make faces at me because idk what they mean. Not to mention negation iwhen speaking. Half the time I couldn't really understand the difference between yes and no. Idk how to word it but sometimes the way someone would answer a question, I would not no what they meant. like no in agreement or disagreement? Idk it makes sense to me, but i know what I'm saying is just gibberish.
Besides the weird obsession, I was ahead of the other kids and socially awkward. I did not talk unless my life depended on it, and I would often get in trouble being in my own world. I was diagnosed with ADHD in high school, so I just wrote that off. I also stimmed a lot, and I got bullied for it. I would hum this low not that would tickle my brain, but drive everyone crazy. I flicked my two middle fingers and would twist my legs in all sorts of knots. And when my hair was long, I'd grab it and flap it against my ears. Let's just say I was like fresh meat for bullies. It got to the point were I wouldn't talk at all in middle school, and I would whisper my orders to my mom up until I was 16.
And textures and clothing, oh God the textures. You could not put me in a turtle neck ever. I also thought thus was normal. Turtle necks are ugly anyways. I can't wear flannel that's too tight, and I can't touch cardboard if my nails are too long. And the sound of teeth grinding, or wet rubber, or even touching of balloons send me. I would break down and cry and whenever someone asks me what's wrong all I can say is "Im out of words or I dont know" because in the moment it feels like everything is wrong.
All of this I thought was normal, or at least my ADHD, which my therapist recommended I try to manage it with caffeine in the morning. (if you dont want meds, trust me it works). Every so often I'd say or do something, and my fiancé would say, "i think you may have autism." or something along those lines. He's even picked up that when things get to crazy, he just stops talking and gives me my earbuds so I can drown things out. He even unplug the cat fountain and lowers the lights. I don't even ask, he just does it. And by God does it help. When it's warm, he suggests I go swing in my hammock chair and he'll send me with a blankie. (literally the love of my life). He sat down with me recently and strongly suggested I go get screened. Idk what benefit knowing would be or if it's something that I can get help for. or even if I need help. I don't have a primary care doctor, so I scheduled a new patient appointment online. In the notes, I mentioned a screening.
Any thoughts???? I really just think it's my ADHD but I could be wrong. I was also diagnosed with some other mental health issues, but I don't think it's relevant here. But I also know ADHD and autism go hand in hand, like depression and anxiety. You got one, you might also have the other. idk I'm just lost and mildly nervous about the whole thing.
EDIT: I also had a rigid schedule before I was old enough to work part time. If I didn't shower at 6 and go to bed at 9 or example, I would lose my sh*t

First Chapter
Chapter Eighteen
Chao peered at the holographic display at the front of the landing boat as she talked to an international audience. “Okay, folks! You can now see the Coalition Exploration Bureau’s ship Exultant Finger of Rithro. It’s missing its usual armor configuration; normally, this corvette would have triangular cones of armor at the front and back. But they re-configured that armor material into a shell to prevent us from seeing them as they flew towards Earth. Merely as a precaution; they flipped the shell around a few weeks ago to display their ship to us. They even extended their radiators towards our planet, which to them is a signal of surrender.”
She smiled at Parvati, who floated next to her. “Pretty cool, right?”
“Very cool indeed!” exclaimed Parvati. “So where is the damage?”
Chao pointed. “See these toroidal tanks around the middle of the ship? They hold hydrogen for the ship’s fusion drive, but after tangling with that Breaker some of them got punctured. You can see the holes there, there, and there. That means they’re now limited in how long they can burn the reactor. Plus the FTL drive is now pretty much kaput. It apparently uses a lot of energy.”
Parvati pondered the display. “Faster than light,” she mused. “We need that. After we get the fusion drive technology, of course. Assuming that ever comes out of committee.”
Chao laughed. “Well, that’s why we’re here, right? To show all of humanity what could be ours.”
“Will we go outside? I mean, for real outside?” The actress reached towards the display, halting when she realized there was no physical screen.
“We’ve got pressure suits. Should be okay, we did plan for going out for a few minutes to get some direct video. It’ll be limited in time, those suits aren’t really meant for proper EVAs…”
“Oh, that’s no problem!” said Takh from behind them, causing both women to do the equivalent of a zero-g jump. For someone so big, he somehow managed to just…arrive on the scene. “We’ve got plenty of components on board, we can make you all some proper hardsuits!” He grinned at the camera on Chao’s chest; watching an udhyr grin was an awe-inspiring sight, what with all of the teeth and mandibles. “It’s all snap-together for any body type, it works just like your Legos!”
Parvati, of course, was the first to regain her composure. “Thank you Takh, I’m sure that will be very welcome. One thing has occurred to me; even if our material is successful in allowing you to patch your tanks, you will still require hydrogen to fill them, yes?”
The XO’s cheer didn’t fade. “Of course. We’ll find a nearby ice-containing body and extract us some hydrogen. We already have a few candidates chosen. You can all come and ride along! It should be fun to watch.”
“Yes, very fun.” Parvati met Chao’s eyes in a clear unspoken message of is this guy for real?
A much smaller hand crept its way around Takh’s leather-armored shoulder. “Now, my dear,” said McCoy. “We mustn’t interrupt the PR people. They’re half the reason we’re out here, after all.” She winked at the two other women; both of the latter winked back.
“Oh, of course!” Takh bowed formally to the two. “Forgive me.”
“No worries,” said Chao.
“There is nothing to forgive, my good sir,” replied Parvati with an equally formal bow.
The huge alien and petite corporal vanished, leaving the two women to watch the ship as the boat headed for its docking cradle.
“They are utterly adorable,” said Parvati.
“So are you two,” said Chao.
“Sorry?”
“You and Ravindar. I’m not saying to make your move right now. We’re gonna be on camera for a while, and I know I just made a bunch of people on Earth go squee. But you need to tell him how you feel.”
For once the actress looked flustered. “I…I couldn’t, he’s so brave and strong…”
Chao’s voice sounded out like the slamming of a vault door. “Stop. I had the same problem. I was into someone who was brave and strong. Not as big as Ravindar, but then again few people are. Then I found out he was into me too, but because he thought I was smart. I’m not as smart as he thinks I am, but I’m not going to tell him that.”
Parvati glanced into the rear of the landing boat, where Martinez was in the midst of puttering around with the human and alien crew. The actress now looked thoughtful. “I see.”
“All I’m saying is, you don’t need to be exactly in-sync in terms of what you see in each other.” Chao smiled. “Heck, you might even find out that you’re in-sync in ways you didn’t see coming.”
The dark-haired Indian fixed Chao with a stare. “I sense there is a story somewhere in there that you’re not telling me. Ah well, as you say it can wait until we are all no longer under the camera’s gaze.”
__________
Master Sergeant Wilkes smiled down at the spidery alien. “Kifa, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Consider it part of your helping us to train. This person made a living while driving one of the highest, fastest aircraft we’ve ever made.”
“Oooh!” Kifa looked very pleased at the idea. “That’s a good area to focus on! Where orbital mechanics and aircraft mechanics meet.”
“Indeed.” Wilkes nodded at the near door. “You may come in, sir.”
A man walked in, his face stretched taut in the way which only scar tissue can appear.
Kifa peered up at him. “Forgive me, this is probably very insensitive, but…were you injured?”
He laughed. “I sure was! Burned to a fare-thee-well!”
“Oh, I am so sorry!”
He smiled. “No need to be sorry. Hey, do you want a headpat? Word on the street is your species like that sort of thing.”
The xyrax rocked back and forth on its legs. “Well, a human headpat is always welcome….”
The man reached up and wiggled his fingers, making a great show that his pinky had full range of motion. “See this? Pure miracle that I can do that. The surgeon putting my hand back together, just on a whim, decided to put a pin in here so’s that my pinky finger can grasp properly. Good thing too, otherwise I would’ve never made it through the physical training.”
He then reached forth and with that rebuilt hand dispensed quite a few righteous headpats onto Kifa. After a mutual moment of happy bonding, the xyrax spoke again.
“What training were you pursuing?”
“The same thing you and I are gonna be doing for a week or so.” His eyes, narrowed with scar tissue, lit up. “My dear Kifa, I’m gonna make you into a Sled Driver. God willing and the creek don’t rise, we might get to do it for real and not just in the simulators. They’re already pulling a bunch of Blackbirds out of mothballs. Hell, even the Russians are offering us titanium for building new ones. Seems like everybody’s got a fire lit under their kiester.”
Kifa’s eyes, already big and black, got even bigger. “What is a Sled Driver?”
“Why, it’s only the best profession on the planet, my little blue-furred friend. We get to go fast.”
__________
Joachim regarded the cylindrical, human-sized tank with some trepidation. It looked far too much like a transparent coffin. “You want to stick me in that thing?”
Zawahir nodded. “I know it’s a lot to ask, sir. It is entirely up to you, in the end. But if this works…” He waved at the tank. “If this works, then you will emerge from that tank physically in your twenties.”
They both regarded the tank for a moment, which was full of a clear and, at the moment, a very exclusive liquid.
“Corina too, of course,” said Joachim as he leaned back in his wheelchair. “If it works on me first.” He still wasn’t quite sure where he was; there had been a lot of back-and-forth with planes and whatnot.
“Of course,” said Zawahir. “That goes without saying.”
“Then the two people injured in the DC attack. This will regrow their limbs, correct?”
“Well, naturally.” Zawahir smirked. “They’re the Borlaug Institute’s big publicity stunt, after all. Testing on two people before-hand should be enough to let us know if it’ll work on them.”
“Of course.” Joachim gazed at the tank. “I’ll do it, on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“If…if I don’t come out okay, I want everyone to know that I tried, right? And I do mean everyone. All of humanity.”
“I’m just one person. At the moment, I can only promise that I’ll say what I can.”
After a moment, Joachim nodded. “Then put me in there. I just need to talk to Corina beforehand.”
“Of course, sir.”
__________
The blue-suited woman with a blonde pony-tail smiled as she stared into the camera. “Welcome to Summit Technologies’s livestream of Point-Counterpoint, I’m Amy Coulson. We are currently talking about and debating the latest announcements in space-based systems. As everyone is aware, this has become a source of great concern in the last month or so.” She nodded to the beige-suited man next to her. “This is Walter Higgins, formerly of TRW and who now works for Northrop-Grumman. Walter, to start with can you tell us what the current status is of the repair effort for the alien craft?”
Walt leaned forward, putting his forearms on the desk in front of them. “Well, the main concern is if the plates we’re providing for patching will actually work. So only one of the Rithro’s boats was launched…the one with Chao Me Chu and Parvati Devdhar, they’re towing the fifteen-ton loft provided by ULA to avoid wasting too much energy. Just in case the patching doesn’t work.” He winked at the camera. “I assure you, as someone in the aerospace industry, ULA is going to be very proud of that for a good long while. Anyways, at the moment, they are approaching the L5 point and we should be able to get some spectacular pictures of, well, everything. Of the Earth from near the Moon’s orbit, of the Moon itself, and most importantly of the Rithro.”
Amy nodded in a comradely fashion, but Walt was not fooled. He’d dealt with reporters before. “Sounds intriguing, and I’m sure everyone on Earth looks forward to such sights. But mere patching will not be enough to solve the ship’s issues, correct?”
He sighed. “You’re right. One of the ship’s fusion engines was damaged, and that limits their top speed. Think of it as…you’re a big ocean liner with three propellers, and one goes down. You might still be able to steer using just the other two, but you’re not going to be as effective or fast as you might be.”
“Effective,” she mused. “I suppose that our helping fix their fusion drive is among those bits of alien tech currently prohibited?”
“Yes. I have heard some rumors that the Borlaug Institute in Iceland has had some great initial success, so I hope that soon we will be able to tackle the fusion drive problem.”
She stared at him a bit, which he knew was a bit of theatricality. “Such a repair would make them more capable against these so-called ‘Breakers’, correct?”
“So-called? Now, Amy. Don’t tell me you’re agreeing with those lunatics?”
In the weeks since the simultaneous attacks, a few manifestos had cropped up online. All mostly spouted the same nonsense; at least, nonsense in Walt’s eyes. They all said the same thing; that the Breakers were fake. That this whole rigamarole was a false flag effort by the Coalition, one intended to get all of humanity under their thumb.
“I don’t agree with them,” said Amy, to her credit. “I’m merely stating the other side of the conflict. Yes, I think most people agree that there is an alien ship up at the L5 point which has been grievously damaged. I do trust the evidence of my eyes. I’m sure our two…”
“Five.”
“…five brave souls heading out to that very point at L5 will see exactly the same thing as the Hubble did. But. Have you considered, just for the sake of argument, that evidence of an attack is not evidence of Breakers? Perhaps this is some local dispute, and the crew has set up some sort of fake attack. They could intend to use us as shock troops to settle it.”
Walt leaned back in his chair as he went through the longest twenty seconds of his life. He knew things, thanks to his role. He also knew that if he spoke them aloud he would be burning his entire career right down to the waterline. “That is somewhat possible. But not probable.”
She leaned forward, as if sensing she had him on the ropes. “Why?”
“Because they didn’t need to.” His gray eyes were calm as he stared at her and measured his words. “Do you have any notion, any single clue, of the firepower that ship possesses?”
“Um…well, no, that part’s still classified.”
“I will give you a hint. They have a spinal railgun that could, with around three shots, turn any metropolitan area on earth into a molten crater. They have nuclear-tipped missiles, even one of which could burn a city to the ground. They didn’t need to play nice, Amy. Those aliens could have stood off in orbit, smacked a few cities, and then gotten on the radio to dictate terms of our surrender. We’d have no choice but to comply.”
He stared daggers at her, half expecting some black-suited guys with earpieces to jump in and haul him away. But nothing happened, it was as if the world was holding its breath. “They did their very best to treat with us fairly, to treat us as equals.”
Amy looked away. “I…I hope that is true.”
“It is.” He glanced behind his shoulder for any Men In Black, but nobody was there so far. Maybe he should continue. He assumed a smile, one which he did not feel. “Anyways. We will see what they see, when they get there. There is, also, the international consortium’s proposal for the Sea Dragon.”
The reporter rallied, clearly grateful for the change in subject. “Ah, yes. You’ve reviewed the designs of this craft. Is it really necessary?”
“At the moment, yes. Starship holds a great deal of promise, but they’re still trying to crack the reusability and multiple-refueling issue. This design does permit reusability…of the first stage, if nothing else…but it isn’t strictly necessary for success. Success, in this case, consists of tons to orbit.”
“Why something so big, though? Won’t it be an issue?”
He chuckled, feeling surer of himself. “That’s why we’re launching it in the ocean, in the middle of nowhere.”
She actually looked troubled, so he figured he’d throw her a bone. “The first launch won’t have anything…controversial.”
“But Walt, the second launch is the issue! Nobody has launched this much radioactive material into space.”
“We need to, Amy,”
“But on an almost untested rocket? From a design which is decades old?”
“We have top people on it,” said Walt. “Including people from that era, who know exactly the pitfalls and also have access to modern technology.”
“Which people?”
“It’s still secret as to their identities. But like I said, I can confirm rumors that the Borlaug Institute is already paying significant dividends.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Over a billion dollars funneled into a figurative black hole in Iceland. Why would you believe anything they say?”
“They’re going to have some serious proof soon,” said Walt.
__________
Iceland. Joachim had never, ever expected to visit Iceland. But yet here he was…again. He stood with no cane, with nothing supporting him but his own two legs. He stared at a nearby volcanic massif, one covered with green lichen. The spring was coming in, and the ground around him was similarly strewn with fuzzy green growth. His beard and hair were now coming in dark again, with only a hint of gray at the tips to betray his true age.
He heard some light-footed steps coming up the trail behind him. It must be Zawahir.
“Why the hell am I back in Iceland?” Joachim replied.
"This is where the tech is, at least for the moment. How are you feeling, sir?”
“I feel…like my old self, Zawahir. I forgot what it was like to have knees that don’t hurt anymore. How is Corina’s, er, ‘tanking’ proceeding?”
“Very well, sir. I am overseeing the procedure of her ‘tanking’ myself, I just wanted to come and let you know that everything is looking good.”
Joachim looked down at the back of his hand. It was no longer wrinkled, no longer showed a welter of age spots. “When?”
“She should be out in…seventy-two hours. That’s how long it took you.”
“Good to know.” He turned to face Zawahir. “My friend, I am going to need every single internet connection you have for the next seventy-two hours. I have a lot of design work to take care of in that time frame; I will need to have a lot of meetings using those oh-so-clever ‘online’ apps. I’ll be indisposed after that.”
“Sir?”
Joachim stepped forth and placed a newly-strong hand on Zawahir’s shoulder. “My dear Zawahir. I am now physically twenty again. In the next three days my wife, the love of my life and she who I hold dear above all else, will also emerge from your magic alien goo and she will also be physically twenty years old. What do you think will happen after she is thus reborn?”
Zawahir’s eyes widened. “Oh. OH! Yes, of course. Please, follow me.”
Joachim chuckled to himself as he followed the man towards the low-roofed buildings of the Borlaug Institute in the distance.
__________
Chao was now clad back in her pressure suit; fortunately, the aliens were quite adept at helping the humans back into their cloth-and-glass cocoons. She looked over at Parvati. “Neil can bite us.”
Parvati grinned. “For sure. Neil was a very great man, but sadly he never got to see an alien starship.”
Chao checked the readout at her wrist, ensuring that she was indeed sealed up and pressurized. She looked over at her four fellow humans, and received nods in return. “We’re go, Captain Sadaf.”
The on-board crew of the Rithro were now back in their chromed, faceted hardsuits. “Depressurizing,” said Sadaf. “Please monitor those to either side, sing out if you see any stress.”
Chao reminded herself to breathe normally as things just got…quiet. Very quiet. She managed, through sheer willpower, to not have an utter panic attack as she realized that there was nothing between her and a life-sucking nothing except for a few layers of fabric and plastic.
She glanced over at Parvati, who looked to be also in the midst of trying (and fortunately succeeding) at combating her own panic attack behind her Plexiglas helmet. “Doing okay?” asked Chao, and immediately felt like an idiot for asking such a stupid question.
Still, Parvati nodded. Chao felt a tap at her shoulder, and looked over at Martinez. The corporal grinned at her from behind his own transparent head-cocoon. “Doing okay?” he asked with just the right bit of cheekiness.
Chao slapped his shoulder, but it was a playful slap. “Dipshit.” She forgot, in the moment, that she was begin transmitted live to the world. Her curse was thus broadcast to pretty much every kid on the planet, who then gleefully repeated her curse-word until they all got smacked by their parents.
She didn’t know that at the time, her entire world was the airlock door that now opened to reveal…black.
Utter black.
Chao had enough experience in zero-g maneuvering to push herself towards the door. “Oh. Man. Folks, this is it. Gonna step outside, for at least a little bit.”
She could feel both Martinez on one side and Sadaf on the other. The latter figured; the captain struck Chao as a ‘lead from the front’ type.
“Grip the frame,” said Sadaf. Through the translator bead her voice was deadly calm. “No big muscle movements, just kind of…drift where you want to go.”
Chao obediently swung herself up and out of the boat, reveling in the fact that now she was seeing the Exultant Finger of Rithro in real time. The long ship stretched alongside a clamshell-like shield, its radiators stretched out towards the Earth in a gesture of surrender.
Speaking of which…
Chao kept a firm hold on the doorframe as she looked behind her. A small, fragile, blue-and-white marble floated before her, a sphere which looked to be the size of her thumb-tip held at arm’s length. Chao did so with her free gloved hand, watching her thumb occlude that fragile-loooking sphere. And in that moment, her world was completely changed.
It is one thing to know a fact. It is one thing to meet aliens, to accept that they are from oh so very far away, that your world is but one little dust mote drifting in the vast and limitless cosmic ocean. But it is quite another to see that fact laid bare before you, where you can witness it in real-time through nothing but a Pexiglas helmet. Chao now knew. Everyone she’d ever known, everyone she’d ever heard of, every king or warlord or emperor or internet celebrity who anyone had ever heard of had lived down there, upon a sphere that looked to her like the most ephemeral of soap-bubbles. She had the crazy notion that she could just reach out one gloved finger and pop it.
She also knew that millions, perhaps billions, were watching this live via her bodycam. Perhaps they were going through the same epiphany.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she knew she was on the verge of tears. No, that was a bad thing. She was in freefall; there was no way for those tears to stream down her face. They would just collect over her eyes and blind her. So Chao breathed in deep and managed to tamp down those threatened tears.
“Chao?” called out Sadaf through her comm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m good, Captain. Just…next time…, we send up a poet.”
__________
Shaw hated, hated, hated having to use a wheelchair to get around. Most of the time he could wheel himself around using his substantial arms, but every so often the nursing staff would try to get oh so helpful and try to push him towards where he was going. Several of them had nearly lost limbs of their own thanks to such efforts.
Still, he was alive and that was a good thing. Although…watching Agent Milton Vila and his family, who were nearby as he went through his own convalescence, made Shaw reevaluate his life choices. It would be nice to have a wife and kid to hug while one went through the worst thing ever. But he was too old, such things were well behind him. While on autopilot, Shaw wheeled himself down the tiled and very off-white hallway with a sour air. One which told the entire staff that he was Not To Be Disturbed. He was thinking of a particular girl, one with the cutest pigtails and the sunniest smile. Yeah, she would have been the one, if he’d had his head on straight back then.
And then, in spite of his ‘Fuck the Fuck Off energy’, someone did block his path.
He stared at a pair of narrow legs, clad in narrow pants, then looked up with a distinct lack of humor. “I do believe you are in my way.”
The dark-skinned man blocking his path smiled, but it was a gentle smile. “I am. But, I am very sure you will want to hear my offer. Both you and Agent Vila.”
Shaw regarded him with gimlet eyes. “Oh, really? What’s your name?”
“I’m Zawahir Ibn Harith. I am the head of the…”
“I don’t give a single solitary fuck,” said Shaw. “I’ve had plenty of people trying to get me to tell them my life story since I got my leg removed with extreme prejudice. I don’t know how you got in here, but you strike me as someone just like them, Harith. So. I may be minus one leg, but I can still fuck you up but good. I can fuck you up so bad you’ll never shit right again. Do you wanna get out of my way now?”
The man’s smile didn’t change. “Borlaug Institute.”
“What. Really?”
“Really, sir. Both you and Agent Milton Vila. It sounds…very cynical, but you were the two that we wanted to heal first. As an object lesson to humanity. Do you understand?”
The notion made Shaw’s mind reel. “Heal?”
“Fully. We have successfully restored two people to the prime of life, and we are now certain that we can do the same for you and Agent Vila. With all of your limbs intact. We have done a great many tissue-sample experiments, and it appears that the regeneration also re-grows limbs.”
Shaw looked down at his missing lower leg. “And you’ll do the same for Milton?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Stop calling me sir, I work for a living. Call me Mack.”
“Very well…Mack. I won’t lie to you, this has been planned well in advance. But it turned out that limb re-growth for humans also unlocked certain regeneration within our cells, particularly the telomeres…”
Shaw held up a meaty hand. “Just…I’m a dumb grunt in such matters, don’t bother to tell me how it works. So you have some kind of magic goo that you slather over me and hey presto I’m twenty again?”
“That is more or less the shape of it, si…Mack. You will need to be immersed in the ‘magic goo’ for at least three days. Perhaps more, since this will also be regenerating a limb.”
“Either way, I go first,” said Shaw, with a flinty glare up at Zawahir. “I’m the test subject, and you need to test me good after I get re-birthed from your goop. I know you said you’d done it on two people, but we need to make sure this doesn’t give me some kind of bullshit super-cancer before Milton goes in. He’s got a wife and a kid. If he has to use a prosthetic instead of magic alien goo, then he has to use that instead. Understand?”
Zawahir gave Shaw a little bow. “Of course. I do believe you are quite the appropriate test subject.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself. Where is this shindig taking place, anyway?”

Chapter 6: Two Girls, One Cuck
Me: Is he always like this during gaming weekends, or is this all my fault?
Athena: He’s always ranting and raving about his crusade of the week. And he usually gets into a screaming match with Mori over something dumb. But this is some next-level rage.
Sage (to Athena): You ummm... told...
Athena: She knows, babe. She already knew.
Sage: Okay. So sorry about that, by the way.
Me: It’s fine. It’s nothing new.
Sage: He usually has some nasty chick come over on Friday or Saturday. They go... do whatever they do, and then he comes back either completely chill or completely enraged. And fucking RANK.
Me: Maybe I should have packed his fleshlight for him.
Axton: Why the hell does he need a fleshlight when he’s got you?
Me: Oh, he hardly ever tries to do anything with me. And the last few times he tried; he was too plastered.
Snorlax: Whisky wang?
Me: Bingo.
Axton: That’s criminally negligent. Do you need a hug?
I smiled. “It’s fine. The whisky wang lets me off the hook. But I’m not gonna turn down a hug.”
I crawled over to him and let his arms envelop me. As I had been starved for affection for nearly a year, this was better than sex. Underneath the general aura of cigarette smoke and whiskey that permeated the room, I could smell his skin. It was intoxicating. So I nestled into that rare, delicate balance of euphoria and tranquility until we heard the back door open and close. Axton and I scrambled to opposite sides of the room. But it was just Mori.
Mori (grinning mischievously): What did I walk in on?
Athena: Nothing that would excite you, Mori.
Mori approached me and sat down. “I think he’s chilled out. Right now, he just needs to know that you’re not mad at him. Are you up for going to talk to him.”
I blinked. “I am mad at him. I’m embarrassed. And anything I say to him is just gonna piss him off.” Plus, I was high as a fucking kite on Adderall and affection. “Let me think about it for a minute?”
I considered a novel approach. After the puke-inducing fight that he’d had with Mori last night, they had made peace. I decided I would mimic Mori’s actions and try call a truce with as few words as possible, which would ideally prevent FPB wasting hours playing the victim and assassinating my character.
Me: I’ll let him know that it’s chill. That’s all I can do.
Mori nodded.
I headed for the back door and stepped onto the porch.
Me: FPB?
He grunted. He was sitting slumped in a chair on the porch, smoking a cigarette. I moved around so that I was standing in front of him and I offered my hand.
Me: Peace?
FPB: From now on, you only talk to Athena and Sage. No talking to ANY of the single dudes.
He was pointing his cigarette at me and punctuating each phrase with a little jab of the cherry in my direction.
Me: That’s not reasonable. Would you prefer it if I just left? How am I supposed to play if I’m not allowed to talk to half the people on the team? Or the GM?
FPB: Then you only talk about game-related stuff. Mori’s junk doesn’t go anywhere near you, you don’t share beer with Snorlax, and you don’t so much as look at pretty boy, Axton.
Me: If it’s game-related stuff, Axton’s the one I need to be talking to the most. You talk to Snorlax when we’re planning an attack.
FPB: That’s different.
Me: HOW?
FPB: Because Snorlax isn’t trying to get in my PANTS.
So much for a succinct truce. I decided to try and steer the conversation in a different direction.
Me: I’m being serious. I tagged along this weekend so that I could try to have FUN learning to play this game you love so much. (I extended my hand more fervently.) Peace?
FPB: Swear to me that you won’t so much as look at that jizz-mopping pretty boy.
Me: Only if you swear to me that some girl didn’t come over here to hook up with you last night.
FPB went white.
Me: It is what it is. But if you get to receive booty calls here, I’m allowed to interact with your friends. ALL of them.
FPB grunted dismissively.
I wanted to say, “If you’re allowed to LICK, I’m allowed to LOOK.” Again, I refrained from deliberately angering FPB out of respect for the other people whose time was being disrupted by his rage. And he was no longer snarling and shouting. That was as about as good as it was gonna get. I went back inside and took my seat. Everyone looked at me, appearing anxious to hear what had happened.
Me: Well, he had some unreasonable demands... I refused them. But I think he’s calm enough to play again. No promises.
FPB slammed the back door and trudged back to his assigned seat.
Mori: Axton and Sage, please trade places.
FPB: Why? Do you think I’m gonna...
Mori held up his magic Funky-silencing hand. “My run, my rules.”
It was FPB’s roll. It wound up being successful. Very successful. As he entered the media station, a swarm of heavily armed guards surrounded him, but he managed to obliterate all of them, wielding a sword in one hand and an SMG with homing bullets in the other hand. This might have been just the thing we all needed to calm his ass down!
Mori: Show of hands for all who consider this an epic success!
We all voted affirmatively.
Mori: Then my Assistant GM shall prepare the finest tincture in the land for our supreme Street Samurai, Funky P. Beard.
Sage soon returned with a shot of Johnny Walker Blue. FPB sniffed it deeply, toasted to the team, and slugged it back in one gulp. I think I even saw a small smile on his face, although it was hard to tell underneath that behemoth of a beard.
I exhaled and felt myself relax as much as I could with Adderall fueling my wakefulness. I planned a super sick (albeit risky) complex action, rolled, and... got hit with Tar Baby. That was a giga-glitch.
FPB looked over at me with menacing eyes. But I had an idea.
Mori: OP, come accept a staff punishment!
Me: Game Master... Sir? FPB, our epically successful Samurai, suggested to me that I should kiss Athena instead of kissing your staff.
I glanced nervously at Athena. She was giggling. Good. I hadn’t offended her. I also glanced nervously at Sage. He was grinning from ear to ear. Good. I hadn’t offended him, either.
Mori pretended to ponder...
Mori: ACCEPTABLE! You shall kiss for 15 seconds. Assistant GM, you keep time.
Sage: No way, dude. I’m watching.
Snorlax: I’ll do it. No promises that I’ll keep my eyes on the timer.
FPB growled at him.
Athena and I turned to each other, trying to keep from laughing. This was nothing new to me. I had kissed girls onstage, at theatre parties, during games of truth or dare... And I was confident that this wouldn’t anger FPB in the slightest. If anything, it might put him in a better mood.
Snorlax: 3... 2... KISS!
Everything was fine at first. Athena was giggling, which made me giggle, but we kept our lips locked. Then, after only a few seconds... she seemed to vanish. I opened my eyes and saw that FPB had grabbed her, pulled her away, and was now dragging her to the corner of the War Room near the staircase.
FPB: YOU WICKED THUNDER-SEE-YOU-NEXT-TUESDAY! HOW DARE YOU KISS MY GIRLFRIEND?!?!
With an almost feline stride, Sage crossed the room and put FPB in a chokehold. FPB was screeching and furiously thrashing about, but Sage seemed to be trained in martial arts (couldn’t tell you which one, specifically).
FPB: OP, YOU’RE A DEMENTED SLUT. I KNOW YOU’VE BEEN HOOKING UP WITH AXTON. I KNOW YOU AND MORI HAVE BEEN SNORTING COKE OFF EACH OTHER’S ASSES. NOW YOU’RE KISSING GIRLS, TOO! I SHOULD MA...nhjsnjvB...SVJLjvvvvvv... And then he passed out.
Silence fell over the War Room.
Mori: So... You wanna go snort coke off my ass?
I laughed. “I’m good with the Addy, Mori. But thank you.”
I glanced over at Axton, and he raised his eyebrows, silently making the follow-up to Mori’s joke. I felt the corners of my mouth involuntarily turn upwards and I raised my eyebrows in return.
But the beard stirred. Sage was still in full attack mode and Athena stood by at a safe distance. I crossed the War Room and asked if FPB had hurt her. She shook her head.
Athena: No, I’m fine. I just don’t want another fight to break out.
Me: I’m so sorry. I had no idea he’d get mad about THAT.
Athena: Right?! What’s wrong with him? I thought all guys liked to watch girls kiss.
Mori made his way over to a defeated FPB and an enraged Sage.
Mori: Gentlemen... Shall we take a break from the planning phase and settle this score with some PVP?
Sage: NO. We’re not settling this in game. Funky P. Beard called my girlfriend a horrible name, he physically attacked her...
Athena: I’m fine, babe. Can we just play without FPB for a while?
Sage: Okay, maybe he didn’t hurt her. But he definitely crossed a line.
Mori: I agree. There should be consequences.
Sage: No dick slaps or looking at your butthole or sitting in your lap as “punishments” this time. Actions have natural consequences. The natural consequences are that he scared my girlfriend, he embarrassed his girlfriend, and he pissed me off. He also disrupted our game, so I assume the rest of you are pissed off?
Before anyone could answer, FPB played the victim and pretended to cry over Sage choking him out after he grabbed Athena and called her that awful name. Nobody cared. Once he realized that he wasn’t getting any sympathy, he began to rage about being forced to watch his girlfriend “cuckold” him and how he was being made to feel like he wasn’t manly since he was offended by the sight of two girls kissing. Mori used the magic Funky-silencing hand and invited the rest of us to express our grievances. He also challenged Funky to take it all in without verbally (or physically) attacking anyone.
Snorlax offered FPB some weed to help him calm down, and FPB launched into an irrational tirade about how much he hated drugs. He also mocked Snorlax for his weight, which isn’t cool. If your personality sucks, your physical appearance is fair game for mockery. Otherwise, it’s just rude. Plus, Snorlax is a cute chubby guy. They do exist.
Axton basically told him he needed to take the stick out of his ass, and FPB barked out some more accusations of lust. In the midst of these accusations, he referred to me as “his property,” and declared that I was too “shallow and FEMALE” to make my own decisions. Axton clenched his fists and took a few steps towards FPB, but Mori intervened and gave a very flowery speech about going outside and letting the fresh air carry away the aggression.
Snorlax followed Axton outside, merrily carrying a bong. The whole thing wrapped up when I said, “I’m not your property. I agreed to be your partner once upon a time, but this isn’t a healthy partnership. I’m out. I’m done trying to be a girlfriend to someone who thinks so little of me.”
This was far from the first time I’d delivered this speech to FPB, so I had it memorized. Of course, it never “hit” the way I hoped it would. FPB wasn’t contrite. He didn’t seem sad to lose me. He seemed, as always, righteously angry over having a possession confiscated. So I went to join Axton and Snorlax on the porch. Athena whispered, “Good for you, girl!” as she followed me out, leaving the principal and the vice principal to deal with the delinquent.
A lot of commotion ensued in the corner of the War Room after FPB muttered a very offensive term for “lesbian” at Athena as she exited. Mori had to physically restrain Sage from beating the tar out of FPB. Mori also apparently got a little excited whist restraining his Assistant GM, and they traded some colorful words. Athena closed the door on the hullabaloo.
The bong was bubbling away and the sweet, skunky scent of gonja filled the air.
Snorlax: Want a hit?
Me: Nah. I feel like I might have to dash any minute now if FPB keeps raging, so I need to keep my head clear.
Axton: You’re not leaving with him, are you?
Me: Hell no! I’ve got my car here, and he’s NOT coming with me if I feel like it’s time for me to ghost.
Axton: Is there any way we can vote his ass off the island and convince you to stay?
I cautiously approached the bench where Axton and Snorlax were sharing the bong. They shifted a little to make room for me, and I sat down next to a still shirtless Axton. Athena pulled up a chair next to the bench and took a tiny flask from the pocket of her PJs and slugged back a few sips of liquid tranquility.
Me: For the sake of the other people on the road, I wouldn’t let his drunk ass get behind the wheel. Does Sage have a soundproof basement where we can lock him up?
Athena: I WISH.
Axton unapologetically threw his arm around my shoulder, and I brazenly laced my fingers through his.
Athena: OP, why did you start dating FPB? That might be too personal...
Me: No, it’s fine. Believe it or not, he was incredibly nice to me at first. He thinks I keep pulling away from him because he’s too nice, but... Let’s just say that he and I have very different definitions of “nice.”
Snorlax: Maybe I’m just high, but I think he was pretty chill when we first formed the team.
Axton: I didn’t join until last year, so I’ve only known him as a raging psycho.
Me: You’re both right. That’s his M.O. He’s nice and normal until he’s secured his place.
Before I had the chance to fully explain my perception of FPB’s uncanny ability to simulate sanity, Sage and Mori stepped onto the porch, with FPB trailing dejectedly behind them.
Mori: We’ve decided to wrap it up for the night. Feel free to get drunk as hell, smoke weed, snort coke off each other’s asses, party like rockstars! We’ll reconvene at noon tomorrow.
But fucking Funky lifted his head and roared, “You’re cheating on me AGAIN???”
Me: I told you, Funky. I’m out. I quit. We’re done. And you hate my living guts, so what the hell do you care???
FPB: I didn’t agree to that. So we’re still together.
Sage: That’s not how breakups work, FPB. And what exactly is your definition of cheating?
FPB: She’s cheated on me with EVERYONE. Except you, Sage. You’re actually the only one I still trust. OP’s a SLUT.
Me: WHEN have I cheated on you?
FPB: You let Mori put his dick on your face...
Me: So did literally EVERYONE here...
Mori: Hell, I’d put it on my own face if I were flexible enough!
FPB: I’m still talking. You also stuck your hand in Mori’s butt crack. You shared a beer with Snorlax. You kissed Athena. And now you’re sitting there canoodling with Pretty Boy in front of everyone. CHEATER.
Mori threw his arm around FPB. “This? Is this a good canoodle, or is your noodle still limp?”
FPB shrugged him off. “Barf me a river, Mori. It’s the intention.”
Mori (hugging FPB around the waist): Okay, suppose I’m imagining going to Pound Town with you right now. (He added a few demonstrative pelvic thrusts.) Does that mean we’ve hooked up?
FPB flailed about until Mori let go of him, bellowed some barely intelligible insults towards everyone, made some random animal noises, and stomped back into the house. As much as I hated to see my new friends on the receiving end of his wrath, I don’t think I would have ever been able to effectively stand up to him without five witnesses to his bizarre behavior who miraculously had my back, despite having a long history of friendship with FPB.
I had tried to discuss our problems with close friends in the past, but FPB would always be on his best behavior in front of them, so I always wound up looking like the asshole. It took the presence of people with whom he felt comfortable enough to stomp around (sans mask) in order to gather witnesses to the insanity. And gather them, I had. I was FREE.

Here's this weekend's rundown of fun events you can enjoy in Blacksburg and throughout the surrounding areas within the New River Valley. There's quite a few annual events occurring this weekend such as the Pearisburg Festival in the Park and Claytor Lake Festival if you have a caride and feel adventurous.
Weekend Rundown for June 9th - June 11th: 1. A Night To Fight Alzheimer’s with Boxing Sparring Sessions Blacksburg Boxing and Fitness, Blacksburg Friday, June 9, 2023, 6:00 - 8:00 PM Advance Tickets: $15.00, At the Door: $20.00 Enjoy live, local boxing with sparring sessions with 100% of the proceeds benefitting The Alzheimer’s Association and The Longest Day to raise money for Alzheimer's research. Please note: These are not sanctioned fights. Instead, they are USA Boxing approved Sparring sessions lead by USA Boxing Certified Coaches, amongst USA Boxing athletes, using USA Boxing Sparring rules. The intent is to put on a show, raise money for a great cause, and keep all participants safe. There will also be raffle tickets to win sweet prizes from local companies. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708170 2. 2023 Relay for Life Annual Event (Montgomery County, VA) Christiansburg Middle School, Christiansburg Friday, June 9, 2023, 6:00 - 11:00 PM Admission: Free Join Relay for Life of Montgomery County for their annual Relay for Life event. Celebrate survivors, remember those we have lost and fight back as a community to give cancer the boot. Enjoy live entertainment, children's fun, food, arts & crafts and small business vendors, silent auction, 50/50 Raffle and more. The event is free to attend, but please plan to bring payment for any food and vendors you wish to purchase from. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=707517
3. 2023 Pearisburg Festival in the Park Pearisburg Community & Recreation Center, Pearisburg Friday, June 9, 2023, 6:00 - 11:00 PM and Saturday, June 10, 2023, 9:30 AM - 11:00 PM Admission: Free The Pearisburg Festival in the Park celebrates its 38th anniversary in Giles County, Virginia. Enjoy carnival rides, two days of live entertainment, food vendors with all your favorite festival foods, special activities, vendors and crafters. Festival in the Park promises to be an awesome two days of community spirit, family fun, live music, and great food. There will be rides and games for the whole family. Friday is Unlimited Wristband night and Saturday features a full day of entertainment, the Cancer Kids and Christmas Car Show & Cruise along with headliner Chris Higbee and closing with a fireworks display. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/VenueEventListing.cfm?V=542
4. Root Down in Concert Rising Silo Farm Brewery, Blacksburg Friday, June 9, 2023, 6:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Root Down is a jazz trio based in the New River Valley area featuring musicians Justin Craig, Doug Norton and Nick Romantini. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708744
5. MLB / USA Baseball: Danville Otterbots vs. Pulaski River Turtles (Star Wars Night and Fireworks) Calfee Park, Pulaski Friday, June 9, 2023, 7:00 - 10:00 PM General Admission: $5.00, Seniors Ages 65 & Older: $1.00, Kids 6 & Under: Free Grandstand: $11.00, Reserved Seating: $12.00, Party Zone: $12.00, Club Seating: $15.00 The Pulaski River Turtles MLB / USA Baseball's Appalachian League team hosts the Danville Otterbots as they continue their 2023 season with Star Wars Night. Several characters will be on-site throughout the game to interact with fans and take photos. In addition, every Friday night game will end with a fireworks show for the fans. Tickets can be purchased at the gates on game day or online. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708693
6. Ripejive in Concert Dogtown Roadhouse, Floyd Friday, June 9, 2023, 8:00 - 11:00 PM Admission: $8.00 Ripejive is a Blacksburg, Virginia based quartet that delivers original, hard-hitting funk. From retro grooves to jazz fusion, blazing guitar and soaring saxophone color tight pocket rhythms with sounds from New Orleans to New York that always bring a party. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708066
7. Summer Tea In Honor of Lucy Lancaster's Birthday (Reservation Deadline) Lancaster House, Blacksburg Saturday, June 17, 2023, 11:00 AM and 12:30 PM Registration Deadline: Saturday, June 10, 2023 Admission: $25.00 The YMCA at Virginia Tech presents their 1st Annual Summer Tea in Honor of Lucy Lancaster's Birthday with two seatings on 11:00 AM and 1:00 PM with a reservation deadline of Saturday, June 10, 2023. Located in the beautiful, historic Lancaster House, mark Lucy Lee Lancaster’s birthday by enjoying a deliciously decadent celebration featuring tea and delicious homemade delicacies. The Tea will be catered by Carolyn Ansley, famous for her authentic and delicious teas in past years in Blacksburg. Proceeds from the Tea will directly benefit the Y Community Programs such as Meals On Main, International Programming and After School care. Deadline to purchase tickets is Saturday, June 10th. Lucy Lee lived in the Lancaster House built in 1913 by her parents William and Lucy Lee Sibold Lancaster until her death in 1989. She left the house to the YMCA at Virginia Tech. Lee was one of the first five women admitted to Virginia Tech in 1925. She majored in biology and worked in the library which was housed at that time in what had been the campus chapel. Her work in the library led to her decision to become a librarian, and she attended Columbia University Library School where she received her Masters of Library Science degree. She returned to Blacksburg and worked in the university library until her retirement in 1970. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708759
8. 2023 Native Plant Sale Price House Nature Center, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 9:30 AM - 1:30 PM Admission: Free The New River Valley Chapter of the Virginia Native Plant Society will hold its Fifth Annual Native Plant Sale. The Native Plant Sale includes perennials, trees, shrubs, ferns and more. All plants in the sale are native to Virginia and do not include cultivars. Most are pollinator friendly. The native plant sale only uses sustainable non-peat potting mix. All proceeds from the sale go to support the activities of the New River Valley Chapter, including public education and outreach, improving habitat at local parks, removing invasive species and awarding grants to area youth for native plant garden projects. In addition to the many plants for sale, there will be activities for adults and children. There will be booths where you can ask how to create a pollinator garden or which plants are exotic invasives which kill off natives which the wildlife need to survive on. Tree tubes to protect trees and shrubs from deer will also be sold. Storytime with Joelle for children begins at 12:30 PM. You can also visit the Price House Nature Center which will be open from 9:00 AM - 1:00 PM. Parking is one block away in the Blacksburg United Methodist Church. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708676
9. 2023 Claytor Lake Festival Claytor Lake State Park, Dublin Saturday, June 10, 2023, 10:00 AM - 10:00 PM Parking is $20.00 per vehicle or $15.00 with five cans of food. The Claytor Lake Festival Committee presents the 24th Annual Claytor Lake Beach Festival. The festival kicks off the summer season at Claytor Lake State Park each year. Enjoy entertainment all day, fireworks at night, arts & crafts vendors, beach access included with admission, free children's activities, youth & adult fishing tournament, wine tasting and lots more. Registration for the annual Everett Lee Yearout, Jr. Adult and Youth Fishing Tournament will be held 7:00-10:00 AM. This year the tournament theme is "Fishing is the Best Hobby Because". The Car Show voting is done by the show participants who are completely registered by 10:30 AM. All entries will receive a dash plaque, goodie bag and category winners will receive trophies. There is no pre-registration fee. The fee is $20.00 to enter the car & motorcycle show and this is the only fee you pay to enter the festival. Swimming is included with admission. The event is rain or shine. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708202
10. Procession of Appalachian Species (Giant Puppet Parade) and Biodiversity Fair Warren G. Lineberry Memorial Park, Floyd Saturday, June 10, 2023, 10:00 AM - 2:00 PM Admission: Free Springhouse presents the Procession of Appalachian Species and Biodiversity Fair with events centered around Warren G. Lineberry Memorial Park. New River Valley residents are invited to participate in a giant puppet parade celebrating our region’s biodiversity. This event, dubbed, "The Procession of Appalachian Species," will start and end at Lineberry Park in downtown Floyd, VA. Participants are encouraged to bring homemade puppets and costumes that represent one of our region’s many spectacular species. Musicians and dancers are also encouraged to bring their crafts to this event. The parade starts at 11:00 AM. If you don't have a homemade puppet or costume please come and you can puppeteer one that we have made. After the parade, join the Biodiversity Fair featuring food, music and activities from 12:00-2:00 PM. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708682
11. June 2023 Used Book Sale Montgomery Museum of Art & History, Christiansburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 10:00 AM - 4:00 PM Friday, June 9, 2023, 2:00 - 7:00 PM and Saturday, June 10, 2023, 10:00 AM - 4:00 PM Mass-Market Paperback Books: $0.50, Large-Format Paperbacks: $1.00, Hardback Books: $1.50, Children’s Books: $0.50-$1.00 The Montgomery Museum of Art and History will be holding a two-day Used Book Sale featuring thousands of books including children’s books, adult fiction, and non-fiction. Genres include mystery, romance, science fiction, cooking, history, crafts, religion, self-help, and much, much more. The book sale will also feature puzzles, magazines, comic books, audiobooks, CDs, and DVDs.. On Saturday, June 10th from 1:00-4:00 PM, bring your own bag for a bag sale. All books that can fit will be offered at a total of $10.00 per bag. Brown paper bags and tote bags are perfect for the bag sale. Please, no plastic trash bags. Proceeds will be used to help the museum in areas such as educational programming, collection care, and exhibit preparation. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708149
12. 2023 Two-Day Floyd Artisan Trail Annual Tour Downtown Floyd, Floyd Saturday, June 10, 2023 and Sunday, June 11, 2023, 10:00 AM - 5:00 PM Admission: Free The Floyd Center for the Arts hosts the 11th annual two-day Floyd Artisan Trail. Floyd County artisans, farms, galleries, and more will open their doors for this year’s Artisan Trail. Featuring over 30 different individuals and businesses, the Artisan Trail is a years-long tradition in Floyd to celebrate the abundant artistry available in this area. The Artisan Trail is a free to attend and invites locals and tourists alike to travel around the county to visit the open studios, see live demos, and purchase one-of-a-kind handmade art and goods in a self-guided tour across Floyd County, Virginia. The Trail happily hosts local farms and farm markets, offering tours and locally grown produce and farm goods. There may even be adorable farm animals to see. Maps and brochures with all participants’ information are available online and will be available at the Floyd Center for the Arts. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708882
13. Balance and Brews Iron Tree Brewing Company, Christiansburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 10:45 - 11:45 AM Admission: $20.00 Move through foundational yoga poses, gentle stretches, and experience the many restorative benefits that yoga has to offer. This one hour class is appropriate for all levels, including those who are totally new to yoga. The cost includes an Iron Tree beverage of your choice. No reservation required, just show up. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708760
14. Author Talk with Penny Blue Christiansburg Library, Christiansburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 11:00 AM - 12:00 PM Admission: Free Christiansburg Library presents an Author Talk with Penny Blue about her first book "A Time to Protest: Leadership Lessons from My Father Who Survived the Segregated South for 99 Years". Historians have written about famous names in Black History, such as: Martin Luther King, Jr., Madam CJ Walker and Booker T. Washington. Penny Blue’s dad, Charles Edwards, Sr., is not famous, but the way he lived his life made an impact on his 10 children and the community in which he lived. The stories he told his children and grandchildren are the inspiration for Blue’s book. Penny says the main theme is standing up and speaking out for what is just and right. Books will be available for purchase for $25.00 through CashApp or with cash or check only. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708891
15. Sugar Magnolia 5th Anniversary Celebration Sugar Magnolia, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 11:00 AM - 10:00 PM 25% Off Storewide, $2.00 Ice Cream Scoops Sugar Magnolia presents their 5th Anniversary Celebration at their original location in Blacksburg, VA. There will be face painting and a balloon artist in store from 12:00-2:00 PM. Guests can also enjoy: 25% off storewide all day, $2.00 ice cream scoops all day, tasting stations, raffles, gifts with purchase and more. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708741
16. Fourth Birthday Party Celebration with Music from Cinémathèque Eastern Divide Brewing, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 12:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Eastern Divide Brewing presents their Fourth Birthday Party Celebration with Music from Cinémathèque. Enjoy free ice cream and live music from 5:00-8:00 PM featuring the upbeat and unique rhythms of Cinematheque including surf rock, exotica, spaghetti westerns, Ethiopian jazz, and Afro-Beat. Eastern Divide will also have a vintage and artisan pop up market featuring Eden's Emporium, Broken Arrow Creations, Madigan Made and Tees Don't Grow on Trees. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708886
17. Music at the Villa with Parker's Pillbox Villa Appalaccia Winery, Floyd Saturday, June 10, 2023, 1:00 - 4:00 PM Admission: Free Relax and enjoy some great music along with great wine and food. Sprung from the western hills of Virginia, Parker's Pillbox is an on-the-rise power trio to watch. Parker's Pillbox is instantly recognizable by their unique, cohesive sound, which manages to be unto itself while drawing influences from a multitude of genres. Flavors of country, jazz, grunge, and good 'ol southern rock and roll blend together to create music which is truly an experience. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708181
18. Saturday Afternoon Music with Ball & Chain New River Vineyard & Winery, Fairlawn Saturday, June 10, 2023, 2:00 - 5:00 PM Admission: Free Join New River Vineyard & Winery on the patio for an afternoon enjoying their wine, frozen wine slushies, handcrafted beer and music from Ball & Chain. Ball & Chain is a stripped down acoustic rock duo. A girl from the mountains of Virginia and a boy from the Bronx. The regional musical influences of each coalesce into melodious tension. Passion, fun and sass pervades Jon & Lucinda’s blend of rock, R&B, and blues, resulting in vocals and harmonies that stroke your soul. Seating is first come, first served. Guests can bring a blanket and chair. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708884
19. Arc in the Park 2023 Nellie's Cave Park, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 3:00 - 6:00 PM Admission: Free Enjoy the free food including an all-you-can-eat hot dog bar and pulled pork barbecue, outdoor field games, face painting, entertainment, snow cones and friendships. The Gift Card Raffle will help raise funds for the organization. Prizes include gift cards from Avellinos, PKs, The Maroon Door, Zeppoli’s, In Balance Yoga, The Cellar, The Lyric and lots more. Tickets are $5.00 each and can be purchased online or in person at the event. The prize drawing will be held at the event at 5:00 PM. Participants do not have to be there in person to win. The event is handicap accessible. The Arc promotes and protects the human rights of people with intellectual and developmental disabilities and actively supports their full inclusion and participation in the community throughout their lifetimes. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708881
20. Rockin' Main Street Concert Series with Travis Reigh and The Jared Stout Band Downtown Christiansburg, Christiansburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 5:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free The Town of Christiansburg and the Christiansburg Parks & Rec continues their Rockin' Main Street Concert Series featuring music from The Jared Stout Band and Travis Reigh. Attendees can purchase food and drinks from a selection of food trucks and wine and beer vendors. Patrons are encouraged to bring lawn chairs to sit and enjoy the live performances. Travis Reigh is a singer-songwriter born and raised out of Southwest Virginia, bringing you original material with rock roots and a country sound that you don't want to miss. Get ready to experience the high-octane energy and soulful sound of the Jared Stout Band! This alt-country powerhouse hails from Southwestern Virginia and is known for their unique blend of Appalachian rhythm and blues. As runners-up for the "On-The-Rise" award at FloydFest 22, the Jared Stout Band delivers an unforgettable performance by bringing their own energetic and soulful original songs to the stage. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=707447
21. Mount Tabor Ruritan Club June Fish Fry with The Blacksburg Community Band Slusser's Chapel Church of God, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 5:00 - 7:00 PM Adults: $12.00 Children Ages 3-11: $6.00 Children Under 3: Free Carry-Outs: $12.00 The Mount Tabor Ruritan Club presents their June Fish Fry with the Blacksburg Community Band performing. Enjoy a serving fish, fries, slaw, homemade desserts and beverage. The Blacksburg Community Band, Inc. is an all-volunteer community organization formed in 1989 under the auspices of the Department of Parks and Recreation in the Town of Blacksburg, Virginia. This is a fundraiser for the Ruritan Club's community service projects and scholarships. Held rain or shine under the picnic shelter below the lower church parking lot. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708078
22. 2023 Music on the Lawn Concert Series with Virginia Hollow Christiansburg Library, Christiansburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 6:00 - 7:30 PM Admission: Free Virginia Hollow is a mixture of Americana, Bluegrass, Country, Indie, and Rock. A singer-songwriter band that performs songs written by lead singer Carrie Hinkley, along with an occasional handpicked cover or two. Virginia Hollow is a band and a sound born from the hills, valleys and mountains of Appalachia. Their performances and music take you on a journey fraught with raw emotions and stories of love, trust, betrayal and longing. Each month, one talented local band will play a concert on the library's lawn after hours. Bring your lawn chairs and blankets for an evening under the stars. Feel free to bring a picnic as well. This concert is rain or shine. In case of rain, the concert will be moved inside. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=707890
23. Slushie Saturday with Music from Furious Jones Moon Hollow Brewing, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 6:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Moon Hollow Brewing presents their first Slushie Saturday with Music from Furious Jones. This Summer every Saturday is now Slushie Saturday at Moon Hollow. This Saturday will have two slushies available one made with Ebb & Flow Prickly Pear and one non-alcoholic slushie, Prickly Pear Raspberry flavored. Singer and songwriter Furious Jones will perform a live acoustic solo show featuring Americana, Blues, Folk, and Rock with both originals and extensive covers. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708719
24. Mist on the Mountain in Concert Rising Silo Farm Brewery, Blacksburg Saturday, June 10, 2023, 6:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Mist on the Mountain is an Irish Traditional Music group based in the New River Valley of southwest Virginia. From lively jigs and reels to heartbreaking laments and rollicking ballads. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708745
25. Dean Trimble in Concert Long Way Brewing, Radford Saturday, June 10, 2023, 6:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Dean Trimble is a musician playing 70s and 80s classic soft rock and classic country and he is based in the New River Valley. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708860
26. Cary Wimbish Band in Concert Brick House Pizza, Radford Saturday, June 10, 2023, 7:00 - 10:00 PM Admission: Free The Cary Wimbish Band makes its debut performance at Brick House Pizza. Hailing from Richmond, Virginia, Cary Wimbish has quickly earned a loyal following in the Richmond area since his debut in 2018. Combining powerful vocals with both acoustic and electric guitar, Cary’s repertoire includes covers of well known traditional country, bluegrass, classic rock and blues songs. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708866
27. June Blacksburg Vintage Market Market Square Park, Blacksburg Sunday, June 11, 2023, 10:00 AM - 5:00 PM Admission: Free The Blacksburg Vintage Market hosts their June Vintage Market. Vendors will be selling all things vintage from clothes, jewelry, vinyl records, and more. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708681
28. Sunday Mountain Music Series with Indian Run Stringband Mountain Lake Lodge, Pembroke Sunday, June 11, 2023, 4:00 - 6:00 PM Admission: Free The Indian Run Stringband plays fiddle and banjo foot stomping dance tunes and sings traditional songs with old time harmonies perfect for dancing the two step. From dance tunes to the blues, the Indian Run Stringband plays with love and abandon. They make old-time music fresh and new. Stop by Salt Pond Pub every Sunday starting Memorial Day weekend through August for live music and delicious food & drinks. Perfect for relaxing with the whole family (furry friends welcome too). Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708136
29. Gearheads For A Cause for Ashley Ray Blue Ridge Church, Christiansburg Sunday, June 11, 2023, 5:00 - 9:00 PM Admission: Free Gearheads For A Cause is hosting a special cruise in in memory of Ashley Ray of Dublin, VA that was took from this world at the young age of 25. Ashley was a amazing mother of two sons and always happy and outgoing. The money raised will be for Ashley's family to help with her two boys and the family's needs. Vehicles of all type are invited to attend as well as spectators. Admission and entry are free. There will be a raffle, cake walk and vendors on site. Gearheads For a Cause hosts car shows to help raise spirits given all our community has undergone and bring together an otherwise separated community. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708892
30. Freddy Modad in Concert Palisades Restaurant, Eggleston Sunday, June 11, 2023, 5:00 - 7:30 PM Admission: Free Guitarist Freddie Modad performs classic rock and more. Reservations are not required, but recommended for dining area seating. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708893
31. MLB / USA Baseball: Burlington Sock Puppets vs. Pulaski River Turtles (Saddle-Up Sunday) Calfee Park, Pulaski Sunday, June 11, 2023, 7:00 - 10:00 PM General Admission: $5.00, Seniors Ages 65 & Older: $1.00, Kids 6 & Under: Free Grandstand: $11.00, Reserved Seating: $12.00, Party Zone: $12.00, Club Seating: $15.00 The Pulaski River Turtles MLB / USA Baseball's Appalachian League team hosts the Burlington Sock Puppets as they continue their 2023 season. Saddle-Up Sunday returns. Arrive early for free cowboy hat giveaways while supplies last and take a ride on the buckin’ mechanical bull. Rides are free of charge. It's also Sunday Savings featuring concession specials. Tickets can be purchased online or at the gate. Link: http://www.nextthreedays.com/FeaturedEventDetails.cfm?E=708695
Have a great weekend and thanks for reading!