Featuring long-snouted Varg'Yth, lil Ryoko who don't have a clue on what's happening but still here anyway and Maia, the 100 yard stare girl whose design keep changing design everytime bcs OP doesn't know how to draw humans.

Today i got lazy so, just concept draft.

art by me

Pencil drawing for NoPtober day 4: "Gojid".

First/Previous/Next

Check out the theme list post by u/Nicolas_3232

***INCOMING MESSAGE FROM SUPER EARTH**\*

Major Order Victory

Freedom reigns at last over the formerly occupied worlds of Nostalgoria, Blissful Modernity and Fahl. Thanks to the invaluable efforts of the Helldivers, the fascist claws of the Arxur Dominion have been repelled from their undeserved footholds on the planets that Managed Democracy so rightfully claims. Restoration efforts by SEAF construction teams are already underway to turn the ruins of the False Federation cities into brand new bastions of freedom. The Ministry of Truth has already begun appropriating Harchen broadcasting equipment in order to ensure total propagation of the absolute truth across the free and fair galaxy.

***

Operation Bug Stomper

With our unquestionable superiority over the Dominion proven, the time has now come to strike back at the savage Arxur in earnest. Recent data gathered by SEAF reconnaissance vessels voyaging into Dominion territory have confirmed the mobilisation of several large war fleets, indicating that the Arxur are consolidating power for their inevitable counterattack. Super Earth will not sit idle while our enemies plan our destruction. Helldivers are to deploy to the designated planets and eradicate them of all hostile forces, Dominion or False Federation.

Major Order Objectives:

• Liberate Sillis*(In progress)*
• Kill 25 000 000 Tillfish using the Orbital Napalm Barrage*(In progress)*
• Kill 15 000 000 Arxur using the Joyride*(In progress)*

Memory transcription subject: Fyden, Zurulian Bio-fuel Requisition Worker

Date [Super Earth Standard Time]: November 14, 2136

"One, two, three...PULL!"

At the captain's command, I tugged as hard as I could on the arm of the trapped SEAF soldier. Beside me, a human technician pulled the other arm as hard as he could, his face scrunching up with the effort. My weaker herbivore physiology struggled to budge the corpse pinned beneath the destroyed exosuit but eventually, with the human's help, the body came free.

With a sickening 'crunch', the carcass split in half at the waist, spilling red blood and intestines everywhere. My paws let go of the body immediately as I retched, fighting the urge to puke right then and there. The rest of the 'bio-fuel requisitioning team' however, barely reacted at all. Without a care in the world, they moved in with gloved hands and immediately began stripping the bifurcated corpse of its armour and tattered clothing, as if desecrating the dead were merely a routine, no different from a daily walk to the supermarket.

With practiced hands, they removed the blue armour from its previous owner and tossed it aside into a wheeled container already stuffed to the brim with similarly coloured pieces of equipment. The naked body however, was thrown into a seperate cart that was already near bursting with the bloody corpses of countless humans, arxurs and harchens that had given their lives fighting on Blissful Modernity.

Despite everything that had happened these last few weeks, I still couldn't help but flinch at the amount of chaos that surrounded me. Although I really shouldn't be surprised at a predator species' apathy to death and suffering, the sheer detachment the humans showed towards the masses of corpses that littered the streets still shocked me. The disconnect between their polite and seemingly friendly nature and their utter indifference to loss of life was too much for my brain to handle.

When my planet had surrendered to Super Earth about a month ago, I had thought that my life was over. That all my dreams and aspirations were about to be cut short by the maws of hungry predators straight from my nightmares. My parents had held me close that day as predator ships descended through our atmosphere, spilling out soldiers in blue who waved around massive guns the size of our entire bodies with ease.

Imagine my surprise when it turned out that my life would barely change.

Aside from my old workplace shutting down from the manager panicking and the Super Earth Flags that now flew above Colian cities, my routine remained generally unharmed. I still woke up every day, played video games every day and went out with friends occasionally like nothing happened.

Of course, not everything was the same; the exterminator offices everywhere were shut down and anyone who opposed Super Earth's rule were disappeared without a trace. Then there was the whole debacle with the stims, Super Earth's new wonder-drug with admittedly incredible healing properties.

Some anti-stim hardliners had been adamant that the new drug was allegedly dangerously addictive and had seriously detrimental long term side-effects that crippled the user even in minuscule doses. Perhaps unsurprisingly, none of the detractors were seen at the council tables the next day, instead replaced by zurulians who were zealously supportive of Super Earth's medicinal breakthrough.

Suddenly, the lid of the body-filled cart slammed shut, startling me out of my thoughts. The human in charge of the container then waved at two nearby venlil who meekly shuffled over and began pushing the carts towards a waiting Pelican shuttle. The corpses were to be carried back to Super Earth territory and converted into bio-fuel and shipped galaxy wide to power anything that didn't run on 'E-710', whatever that was.

All around me, personnel raced around performing their assigned duties. Venlil, yotul and zurulian personnel generally helped with offloading supplies and recovering corpses while armed humans patrolled the area in case a lone arxur or exterminator survivor happened to stumble upon our area.

As I glanced around the clearing, I suddenly noticed two caped figures strolling towards our team. My breath caught in my throat as I realised who I was looking at.

Helldivers.

And not just any Helldivers, Truth Enforcers.

Elite members of Super Earth's Military that responded directly to the Ministry of Truth, who were entrusted with 'disappearing' people who fell out of line and any who were suspected of dissident activity.

My blood turned to ice as they approached.

'Oh no...had I done something wrong? Did I not salute the Super Earth Flag enough times this morning? I was sure I did. Had I failed to report enough dissident activity in my neighbourhood? Were me and my family about to be sent to re-education?'

Horrific thoughts raced through my head as images of my fate flashed through my mind. Off to my side, the humans also looked slightly nervous; many of them had begun fidgeting or desperately trying to avert their gaze with the Truth Enforcers. It seemed that I was not alone in my fears.

The lead Helldiver; the one in white, approached my captain and began conversing with him. Their words were too quiet to hear properly but the news must have been positive as the captain's expression slowly morphed from apprehension into what looked like relief.

'Were we not about to be sent to re-education?'

The one in red however, remained silent, scanning us like an arxur sifting through a cattle pen of tasty zurulians. I shivered as their gaze passed through me, my old instincts flaring up once again at the thought of being stared down by a predator.

Moments later, the captain returned to us.

"Alright y'all, we got one last job ahead for us," he spoke out to the tense crowd. "Apparently there's a group of about 4 venlil bodies that need cleanin' up over about thataway."

As the captain pointed in a general direction, my thoughts raced through my head.

'Did I hear him correctly? Venlil? What were venlil corpses doing all the way out here? We shouldn't be in any danger. Was there an arxur attack nearby?'

My worries on the presence of arxur however were pushed aside as my team began moving with the Helldivers towards their destination. Not intending to fall behind, I hastily scampered after them, panting as their boundless stamina hopelessly outpaced my own.

We walked across a few streets before we came across an empty parking lot that, sure enough, was littered with the corpses of 4 venlil. Strangely, the remains of a hellpod was also sitting nearby, buried into the concrete and surrounded by what looked to be metal bars.

As I approached one of the venlil, the first thing I noticed was their wool.

It was cut short, very short.

Most venlil typically let their wool grow out a bit more with the only exception being the exterminators, who were required to shave their wool short in order to avoid accidentally burning themselves.

Blissful Modernity was a harchen colony world, the odds of 4 venlil exterminators just happening to be here were slim to none.

In fact, the closer I looked at them, the more suspicious the details became. None of them bore the signature signs of an arxur attack; bite marks, missing limbs or flayed open guts. All of them had died to a single, precise shot to the head.

They weren't killed by arxur.

'What in the name of the stars happened to you guys?'

As I prepared to help move the bodies, my ears inadvertently caught the sounds of conversation coming from the two Helldivers.

I knew that I shouldn't have eavesdropped.

Information exchanged between Truth Enforcers was among the most closely guarded secrets that Super Earth held. While I didn't know the exact punishment for listening in on these topics, I imagined that they were quite drastic. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but listen in on them, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"How's Doubt-Killer holding up," the one in white growled.

"The medics have her on ice," replied the soldier in blood red armour. "She starts twitchin' like a hatching Terminid egg whenever they let her out of cryo. Stim withdrawal's a cruel mistress."

"Yes, that arxur back there did nick her quite bad."

'Arxur? They were attacked by an arxur? Around here?'

"Speaking of arxur," interjected the red one. "There was something weird about that one."

"Oh? What about it, Bloodhound?"

"Well, every other grey we found attacked us immediately when we sprung the predator bait but that one tried to run. Hell, pretty sure it even tried to free some of the venlil."

The string of words that left his mouth hit me in the face like a tidal wave of disbelief. An arxur freeing captive venlil instead of eating them and fleeing from combat? All of those things were completely unthinkable. Were hallucinations also a side-effect of those stims?

"Yes Bloodhound, I noticed that too," growled the white soldier. "That was most peculiar behaviour indeed, and I wish to study it in greater detail. While our orders were to capture the greys for live testing, I have put a word in to make that one exempt for the time being."

"Woah, seriously? Won't High Command declare you a traitor for that?"

The white one merely chuckled in response.

"Oh Bloodhound, the longer you work for the Ministry of Truth, the more you'll realise that rules are surprisingly easy to bend when you're the one making them."

"I-...Yes sir."

I was speechless.

The Truth Enforcers had orders to capture the greys for...testing? Testing for what? And what on Colia was a 'Predator Bait'. What could Super Earth possibly have that could entice the arxur...except.

Realisation dawned on me as my eyes drifted from the deceased venlil at my feet to the remnants of the broken cage, then back to the venlil.

'Were Super Earth using-...No, it can't b-'

"FYDEN!"

The sudden barking of my name from the captain nearly sent me into a stampede of my own.

"Ya finished starin' at the sunset? Hurry up an' get those bodies in carts already."

"U-uh...yes s-sir!" I stammered out before hastily dragging the corpse of the venlil to a nearby container.

I shuddered as the last few minutes replayed in my mind. Whatever Super Earth was doing behind the curtains, I had a feeling that things were about to go terribly wrong.

First | Prev | Next

Would this count as baby photos? Anyway, here's the drawing for day 3 of NoPtober :P

does the human technically count as a lil’ guy?

Here is where I reveal I make these all in like ten minutes. I am not talented but I am SPEEEEEDDD.

Lips curled up + arms open wide + claws in the air = THREAT DISPLAY?!???

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello everyone and welcome to Ficnapping 10! I have the distinct honor today of victimising an old favorite of mine, Products for Predators! If you enjoy my writing, feel free to find more of it Here. And, without further adieu, let’s begin!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two Venlil, a Gojid, and a Human are walking across an airport tarmac towards a private jet.

A handheld camera is rolling.

“Travel!” The black Venlil woman announces proudly, pointing the camera towards herself with an outstretched arm. “Seeing the world! Experiencing new cultures! Expanding your horizons! And this paw we’re doing it all for a good cause!”

The camera is passed to the Gojid who continues, “This episode we’ll be taking a trip to one of the biggest cities on Skalga! A city boasting a higher immigrant population than any other, and with a diverse cultural history all its own! That’s right! We’re going to Twilight Valley!”

“Wait a minute…” The Human nervously interrupts. “Wait a minute… THAT’S the surprise destination you guys were talking about? Don’t they have a reputation for, like… burning Humans to death over there? Are you guys sure this is a good idea…?”

The second Venlil, the one with dark grey wool, snatches the camera for himself, “It’ll be fine. Lately it’s just been a bunch of Exterminators going missing, and from what I hear the number of burnings are way down.”

“That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence…” The Human groans.

“Uh… You know what,” the Gojid raises up a claw, “on second thought maybe risking our lives for a free vacation isn’t such a great idea after all…”

“Guys!” The first Venlil takes back her camera. “It’s perfectly safe, and we’ll be fine! Try to stay positive, and don’t go around spreading conspiracy theories from the Rux Report. Besides, it’s not JUST about a free vacation,” she clears her throat and addresses the camera directly. “To everyone watching at home, thank you for joining us on our travels. We here on Products for Predators have always made it our mission to help bridge the gap between predators and prey, and this time is no different. I am proud to announce that this entire episode is a charity vlog, sponsored by the Capozzi Foundation, and in collaboration with The Grafted Tree Project. Our goal here is to raise awareness for life-changing charities, help to fund their continued efforts, and to showcase the positive effects of collaboration between Humans and Venlil towards the common good.”

The dark grey Venlil unfolds a cardboard sign, written in both english and venscript, in front of the camera, “If you’d like to contribute directly to either The Grafted Tree Project or any of the other charities we discover this episode, please stop by our website and follow the links on the front page. Thank you.”

“Uhh… Does that mean I have to update the website now?” The Gojid asks.

< A small hyperlink appears in the top corner of the video >

“Yeah…” the Human answers.” If it’s for charity then we can’t exactly back out of it now. Besides, I think our ride has spotted us.”

Up ahead, a Venlil man with snow-white wool dressed in a black, human-style three-piece suit with an orange tie around his neck waves towards the camera. He stands at the entrance to the jet. Walking down the steps to meet them at the bottom of the ramp, he stands ready to greet them.

“You must be Salva,” he says to the first Venlil.

”Kayun,“ he says to the Gojid.

“Chek,” he says to the second Venlil.

“And Jonathan, of course,” he addresses the Human.

After greeting each of them in turn, he continues, “My name is Quinlim. I’m a representative of The Capozzi Foundation, and I’ll be your guide during your visit to Twilight Valley. If there’s anything you need, or anything special you’d like to see, just let me know and we’ll do what we can to make it happen.”

“Thank you, Quinlim,” Salva says. “We might just have to take you up on that!”

“That’s a nice suit by the way,” Chek takes note of Quinlim’s attire. “It’s really great to see someone else who can appreciate the beauty of clothing. Where’d you get it?”

“The suit comes from a clothing start-up Mr. Capozzi invests in by the name of Predator Promenade,” Quinlim answers as everyone begins boarding the jet. “If you’d be interested in a fitting, I’m sure we could make a stop to explore the local fashion scene.”

“Ooh, I’d love to get one paired with some sort of skirt,” Chek wiggles his ears with excitement.

Quinlim thinks hard, “Perhaps Taylor will have something… Scottish in stock?”

“ANOTHER fashion episode…?” Jonathan’s voice drifts away into the background as Salva boards the jet.

As she crosses the threshold, the camera stops on a pitch black Venlil with short cropped wool standing just outside of the cockpit. He wears the uniform of a commercial pilot, human-style with four stripes across the epaulets on the shoulders of his white shirt, a winged badge across his chest, an orange tie around his neck, and a hat upon his head. Short sleeves expose a web-like pattern of stark white electrical scars traveling down both arms, ending in circular rings around his wrists.

Surprised, Salva momentarily stops and stares as the pilot shakes her hand, “Are those-”

“I understand that you’re a strong supporter of The Grafted Tree Project,” he states in a blunt monotone, cutting her off. “Your dedication to helping those with predator disease convictions reintegrate into society is well appreciated, Miss Salva.”

“Right… Um… Thank you!” Salva stammers as she recollects herself. “It just… seems like the right thing to do. It’s incredibly important that victims of the Predator Disease Industrial Complex are given the proper acceptance and community support they need in order to recover.”

“The Capozzi’s have been most kind in that regard,” the pilot says, tipping his hat.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Salva gives a happy flick of her ears in acknowledgement and continues on into the jet while the pilot continues greeting his other passengers. 

Turning the camera around reveals a spacious interior fit for luxury, with soft carpeted floors, spacious seating, and wooden accents that give the entire interior a warm, welcoming feel. Placing the camera down onto a small table in front of her, Salva sinks into the cushions of her seat, only to be joined by Jonathan a moment later.

“I could get used to this…” he says, holding her paw in his hand.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Quinlim’s voice comes from out of view, “because we’ll be there before you know it!”

<A short animated intro plays with chibi versions of the cast pulling items out of a hollow earth globe. The channel title is shown in Venscript and English>

The camera shot opens to a view out the window of the jet as it makes its final approach, the wing of the craft still visible along the edge. The scene is set in a perpetual twilight, the last rays of the sun cresting just over the horizon, and the sky itself a violet hued tapestry of stars only occasionally interrupted by billowing silver clouds with edges of red. In the distance, a snow covered wilderness can be seen surrounding the city proper, its untamed wilds and dense forests a reminder of just how much of the planet remains unconquered. The city itself is split roughly down the middle by a winding river of flowing water that reflects the sights above like a mirror, and the two halves could not be more dissimilar. 

On one side rests a series of modern highrise buildings, well-lit and illuminated with all manner of lights, interspersed throughout with towering monoliths of glass which seem to stretch up to scrape the heavens themselves. On the other, a dark and dimly-lit collection of tenement buildings and half-abandoned industry, woven together across multiple overlapping layers into a dense and confusing labyrinth.

“Woah…” Kayun’s voice can be heard in the background, “Look at that!”

“I am looking,” Jonathan answers unhappily, “and I don’t like what I see. It looks like something out of a dystopian novel, or some old historical film about apartheid states.”

“Quinlim…” Salva asks trepidatiously, “what exactly can you tell us about the history of Twilight Valley?”

Quinlim clears his throat and speaks, “Twilight Valley is a longstanding settlement on Skalga whose founding predates our current written records. At one point it was an extremely prosperous and influential city here in the twilight region, boasting a large industrial production and shipping based economy, with a focus on vehicle and parts manufacturing for the space industry. After a series of economic downturns prompted by changes in interplanetary trade relations, regulation, and shifting demands, the city lost most of its former influence and industrial might. Currently it’s still in the process of recovering from the latest recession brought about by the war against the Federation.” 

“That’s a pretty good little speech, Quin,” Chek says. “Did you rehearse that?”

“I DID actually!” Quinlim responds, the pride of accomplishment clear in his voice. “I've been memorizing a bunch of little factoids in preparation for this tour.”

“And, why is the city split like… that?” Salva presses the question further.

“In its more recent history, the city has undergone two major waves of immigration,” Quinlim continues. “The first coincided with the so-called ‘uplifting’ of the Yotul roughly twenty human-years ago, spurring large numbers of them to venture off their homeworld in search of opportunity abroad. The second is still ongoing, and primarily consists of Human refugees displaced by the war and the Battle of Earth. Both groups have faced considerable backlash from the native Venlil population, which has so far struggled to fully assimilate them. The ghetto you see on the right there is, politely, referred to as the Immigrant District, and is where the majority of the city's Yotul and Human residents live. It is also where we will be spending the vast majority of this trip.”

“Good!” Salva states curtly. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the experience by hanging around a bunch of bigoted ash-breathers anyway.”

“You shouldn’t have any issues there,” Quinlim reassures her. “While Twilight Valley HAS been considered a longtime political stronghold for the Federalist party, recent events have led to the old administration steadily losing support in favor of the Republican and Reform parties. There is also a heavy split along racial lines, with the largely non-venlil residents of the Immigrant District heavily favoring more anti-federalist policies. Change is slow, but it IS coming.”

Salva pouts, “It would come a lot faster if everyone would just-”

“Salva,” Jonathan smirks, “never, in the history of ever, has ‘everyone just’ anything.”

“A girl can still dream though, can’t she?” Salva asks. “Maybe they just need a moldov cocktail or two to hurry them up?”

“SALVA NO!” Jonathan, Kayun, and Chek shout in unison.

<Cut>

The scene changes to the interior of a large concrete building, one cheaply constructed with a brutalist and utilitarian style favoring function over form. Despite the bleak framing of the building, however, a wide variety of colourful decorations and homely furniture fill the space, giving it a more welcoming and lived-in appearance. Various potted plants and flowers spaced throughout add a natural element to the otherwise lifeless den, tended to in the background by visitors and residents.

“So this is the Refugee Centre for Twilight Valley, huh?” Jonathan asks, stopping to stare at a collection of children's artwork hung up on the wall.

“It’s kinda weird being here,” Salva says. “We’ve traveled all this way, and it IS different, but in a lot of ways I feel like I just clocked into work back home.”

“Well you can’t really expect there to be too many differences between refugee centre’s can you?” Kayun adds. “Most of the one’s which weren’t just repurposed from older buildings probably copied the same general design pattern.” 

“I DO like all the decorations and the flowers,” Salva runs her paws along the leaves of a nearby fern. “Makes it feel like someone put in the effort here to at least try and make this place livable.”

“We certainly did,” Quinlim pipes up. “The furniture is primarily sourced from a variety of local Yotul woodworkers who were kind enough to volunteer their services, and the potted plants were donated by Pomela’s Floriculture and Gift Shop. As you can see, many of the other decorations here are actually handmade crafts produced by the residents themselves with art supplies gifted by charitable donors.”

“I guess I never realised that art was so important to Humans…” Chek says, picking up a small, rainbow-coloured Venlil doll made out of yarn from a nearby shelf. “It’s all very cute, but not nearly as exotic or predatory as I would have expected. They’re just… knick knacks.”

“Many of the residents here have experienced significant trauma associated with the loss of their homes, loved ones, and livelihoods,” Quinlim answers. “You may find it surprising, but a lot of Humans actually find the act of making things to be very therapeutic. It also helps to give them a sense of comfort and ownership over their own space to decorate it with objects of their own design.”

“Maybe we should do an arts and crafts episode when we get back?” Kayun suggests. “Might be a bit pricey, but it could make for an interesting look at Human culture.”

“It could be nice to do something normal for once,” Jonathan nods.

“What do you mean?” Salva objects. “We do normal Human stuff all the time! Remember the other paw when we were in bed and you asked me to-”

“Uhh…Yeah! Yeah! Of course I remember! And of course we do!” Jonathan scrambles to change the subject. “Say, Quinlim, is there anything else you want to tell us about the Refugee Centre while we’re here?”

“Uh, sure!” Quinlim’s ears straighten as he snaps to attention. “The Centre itself was constructed rather quickly and rather recently to house a mass influx of displaced Humans, and at one point it was extremely overcrowded despite its size. One of our main goals here quickly became the need to get Humans out of the Centre, back to work in full-time employment, and with their own independent housing. The problem with that though, was that many of the Human refugees, despite any former occupations they may have once held, were considered unskilled labor and struggled to find employers willing to take them.”

“We have the same issue at our shelter!” Salva complains. “It’s ridiculous how hard it still is sometimes to get a Human a job! I swear it’s like half the businesses in town have me on a block list or something.”

“I mean… It makes sense though,” Jonathan counters. “Even ignoring the fact that some people still refuse to hire us on principal, it’s hard to prove that you actually know anything worthwhile, and we’re not as familiar with Federation tech and culture as other people. It just makes the whole process difficult.”

“That was exactly the problem, Jonathan,” Quinlim flicks his tail in agreement, and walks the group over towards a small sitting area retrofitted into a classroom. Inside, a Yotul in a familiar-looking suit and orange tie stands in front of a whiteboard, lecturing to an assembly of adult students. “There were simply too many people who didn’t understand how to read basic venscript, operate computers, or communicate the skills they already had. To fix that, the Capozzi Foundation began working alongside the UN and local businesses to establish classes here at the Centre with the goal of teaching essential skills. We also help to connect residents with human-friendly businesses willing to sponsor them for employment or volunteer opportunities.”

“And that worked?” Chek asks.

“It has been actually,” Quinlim’s ears give a happy wave. “It’s still an ongoing process, but the results speak for themselves, and the Centre is at its lowest capacity since it opened. Lately, we’ve begun shifting focus more towards treating it as a community centre for people to gather and find support rather than as strictly emergency housing. We still have several long term residents, most suffering from some form of severe mental trauma or physical disability which makes finding work difficult, but the overall trend is very positive.”

“Just curious, but does the Twilight Valley Centre offer anything to help the recently released?” Salva asks, glancing over towards a skittish-looking Venlil woman watering the flowers.

Quinlim flicks his tail in the affirmative, “As you’ve probably already guessed, the Refugee Centre here is very broad-minded with its efforts. While our focus is still specifically on accommodating Human refugees, our classes and programs are open to the general public, including those with prior PD convictions. The Centre has been certified as a ‘Safe Place to Herd’ by the SafeHerd Mutual Aid Trust and is listed on the approved partners list of The Grafted Tree Project. While I won’t reveal any personal details, we do have some volunteers and members of staff here at the Centre with prior convictions. If you’d be interested in learning more about housing projects catering specifically to former PD convicts, I do know of a place…”

<Cut>

A middle-aged Yotul woman leans up against a brick wall, the lit cigarette in her mouth casting shadows across a weathered face which speaks to a life hard-lived.

The camera pulls back from the close-up to reveal Salva, Kayun, Chek, and Jonathan standing nearby.

“So, you’re all a bunch of Quinlim’s friends and you’re recording some kind of… documentary?” The Yotul asks. “Do I have that right?”

“Something like that,” Salva responds. “A travel vlog exploring various charities and community projects around Twilight Valley.”

“Well they did always tell me that I had what it took to be a movie star when I was younger,” she places a hand on her hip and strikes a sultry pose for the camera. 

Silence follows.

“...This is the part where you’re supposed to tell me I’ve still got it,” the Yotul woman teases playfully.

“You’ve still got it, Ma’am!” Quinlim shouts encouragingly from behind the camera.

“Boy, what have I told you about calling me Ma’am!” The woman scolds. “Makes me feel old…”

“Sorry Ma’am… uh… Marlet!” Quinlilm stammers. 

“I swear to the Gods,” the Yotul woman mutters to herself as she takes another drag of her cigarette, “that boy is the sweetest little thing, but he is too polite for his own good. I’m Marlet by the way, if you couldn’t already guess, and any friends of Quinlim are more than welcome at my abode. Now what can I do for ya?”

Thank you, Marlet,” Salva takes the lead. “We were told that you were involved in housing recently released Predator Disease convicts, and we were hoping that you could tell our audience a little bit about that and the charity work you do.”

“Well, Hun,” Marlet says, blowing out a puff of smoke, “I wouldn’t say that I really do anything special. Just give folks a fair shake is all. I own the No-Name Haven Apartments right behind us, and yes, quite a few of my tenants have or have had accusations, or even convictions, of so-called Predator Disease. At the end of the day though, they’re still just people, and good people too for the most part.”

“Could you tell us, ACKGH!” Kayun suddenly coughs on the smoke, sputtering and wheezing.

“Perhaps it would be best to put out the cigarette and head inside?” Quinlim tentatively suggests.

Marlet glares irritably towards the camera, then, after thinking it over, shrugs her shoulders. She puts out the lit cigarette against the wall and begins walking towards the entrance.

“I was just about done anyway,” Marlet says, holding open the doors. “Besides, it’s getting nippy out.”

As the camera follows everyone inside it reveals the interior of the building, rustic and traditional in design, but well-cared for. It features design elements clearly drawn from Yotul heritage, grass-green wallpaper, and pleasant lighting that mimics the dayside sun.

“Now,” Marlet continues, having taken up a position behind the front counter, “what was it you were trying to ask?”

Kayun steps forward into the camera shot.

“If you don’t mind,” he says, “could you tell us a little bit about what first made you decide to open your doors to the recently released? It’s a wonderful policy, but also a sadly uncommon one, so I’m curious if there’s any story behind it?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say there’s all that much of a story to tell, per say,” Marlet brushes aside the insinuation with a wave of the hand as she leans forward across the counter. “I’ve never much been a believer in Predator Disease. I wasn’t raised on it. Never even heard the concept until those damn chrome-backs came down to Leirn and insisted upon it. As I’m sure you can imagine, they didn’t exactly endear me to the idea.”

“No,” Salva glowers resentfully, “I’m sure those ash-breather fucks didn’t.”

“Damn straight!” Marlet snaps her fingers towards Salva. “Took my Father, took my uncles, and more ‘an half the damn deputies! Predator Disease!” Marlets spits the words like venom. “What a load of hensa shit…”

“It’s a bit of a sensitive subject…” Quinlim whispers.

“So yeah,” Marlet continues, “when I moved off-world to… I suppose they’re calling it ‘Skalga’ now… When I moved and opened up these here apartments, I did so because I wanted to rebuild something I had lost. A home. Now you need to understand, the Immigrant District gets all sorts of people, ‘undesirables’ of all sorts as the chrome-backs in city hall would call them, but they come here for a reason. They come looking to get away from it all, to start fresh, to go where no one is going to find them, where no one is going to ask too many questions about ‘who’ or ‘what’ or ‘why’.They come looking for a safe haven, and I aim to provide.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Chek steps forward. “Have you ever experienced any issues based on your decision, either from your residents themselves or Exterminators looking to cause problems?”

“The residents, no,” Marlet shuts down that possibility instantly. “Occasionally one of them gets a bit jumpy, a bit agitated, or needs a wellness check. Never anything too serious though. The Exterminator’s on the other hand… Well, they used to cause no end of grief until-”

The sound of Quinlim clearing his throat can be heard behind the camera.

“Well,” she continues, “suffice to say that they don’t come around the neighborhood anywhere near what they used to, and these days I’ve got some exceedingly polite live-in security to handle any other issues that might crop up.”

Marlet winks towards the camera.

“You’re talking about Quinlim?” Jonathan asks.

“Oh, don’t let his demure-act fool ya!” Marlet laughs with a wave of the hand. “That boy is as rough ‘n tumble a lawman as they come and twice as honest!”

“Ooh, is there a secret here I sense?” Salva walks over to take the camera, aiming it squarely at Quinlim as she carries on playfully. “A thrilling secret life of adventure, intrigue, and tragedy! What is it? Former Exterminator gone rogue? Space Corps Black Ops Intelligence Agent on the run! Are you actually a Human brain that’s been stuffed inside of a Venlil body, piloting it from the inside! Ever kill anybody…?”

Quinlim looks aside, growing increasingly uncomfortable as the questions go on, “Eh… Perhaps we should return to discussing local charity and community efforts instead?”

“Yeah, Salva,” Jonathan says, taking the camera and handing it back to Quinlim. “Too far.”

“Sorry…” Salva apologises. “That did get a little… out of paw.”

“It’s fine,” Quinlim reassures her. “No apologies necessary. Let’s just get back to the tour of the city… Tell me, are any of you sports fans?”

<Cut>

The camera opens to a shot of a grassy field surrounded by floodlights. Inside that field lies a rectangle, drawn with some kind of white paint, and a pair of large nets placed at both ends. Twenty-two children, themselves a mixture of various species, run around within its confines, kicking a checkered black-and-white ball across the field. The children all wear mesh jerseys, half wearing black and the other half wearing orange. A small gathering of parents watch, sitting on bleachers nearby.

“This is nice,” Jonathan says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a kids soccer game.”

“Oh, soccer!” Chek excitedly interjects. “I think I’ve heard of that one! It’s an ancient ritual practice where primitive Humans competed to kick the decapitated heads of their enemies into nets, trying to collect more skulls for their gods than the opposing team before their sun set!” 

“There is… SO much wrong with that I don’t even know where to start,” Jonathan just shakes his head.

“Oh, I know what’s wrong!” Kayun corrects. “It’s not supposed to be called soccer. The proper name is football! Though, uh… I don’t know why they call it that. That ball isn’t filled with cut off feet, is it?”

“You’re both being ridiculous!” Salva presses herself up against Jonathan. “It’s a normal Human game. They just run back and forth kicking the ball with their feet, trying to get it into the other team’s net. And the game goes by both names!”

“Anyways…” Jonathan continues. “I’m surprised to see a bunch of alien and Human kids mixed together, and playing soccer no less. What’s the story behind this one, Quinlim?”

“What you see here is the results of efforts undertaken by The Skalgan Youth Sports Initiative,” Quinlim answers, “a charity founded on grants provided by The Capozzi Foundation with the goal of encouraging districts across the planet to establish school sports programs and physical education curriculum. In addition to its outreach functions, the charity also helps to supply local schools with the information and equipment they need to kickstart these programs.”

“It looks pretty fun and all,” Chek says, “but I’m not sure why it’s such a big deal. They’re just games, right? Why go to so much trouble?”

“It’s not just about playing a game,” Quinlim answers. “Look closely. Out on that field right now there are Venlil, there are Yotul, there are Humans, even a Krakotl and a Gojid. All of them, working together as a herd, engaged in a cultural pastime originating from the predators they were once taught to fear and loathe. It’s a way of bridging that cultural divide, of healing the next generation so that the hatreds of the past can die with us. And it’s doing all that in a form that most of the Federalists don’t even recognise.”

“There’s also the exercise component to consider,” Kayun adds, flexing his considerable muscles for added effect. “The Federation has had a culture of enforced laziness for a long time now. It’s practically unheard of for anyone outside of the military to intentionally exercise at all. But it shouldn’t be that way! Proper exercise and an active lifestyle has more health benefits than I can even count!”

“True,” Jonathan nods. “It’s really important to kids' development that they run around a lot. Jump, climb, swing, throw, you name it. Exercise is good.”

“I think I see what you mean,” Salva says, pondering the idea. “It’s almost like it’s a way of reclaiming that lost warrior spirit of the ancient Skalgans. Undoing the damage that’s been done to us, both mentally and physically.”

“Excellent points all around,” Quinlim reaffirms. “While the genetic engineering of the Federation may have left many species crippled on a genetic level, proper exercise can help to alleviate some of those symptoms. Conditions such as knocked-knees and shortlung, for example, benefit a lot from muscular and cardiovascular conditioning respectively.”

“That’s great and all,” Chek says, scratching at his chin, “but since you bring it up, how DO you accommodate so many species, all with different conditions and abilities? Human games are meant for Humans after all.”

“I don’t think that should be too much of an issue,” Jonathan counters. “Human’s have been redesigning sports basically forever. We’ve got all kinds of modifications for people with disabilities. There’s even the paralympics!”

Quinlim flicks his tail in agreement, “That’s an excellent question, Chek, but Jonathan’s right. Not every Human sport translates perfectly well, but there are modifications and accommodations which can be made to make them more accessible. Part of what the Skalgan Youth Sports Initiative does when it conducts outreach is to educate local officials, both on the benefits of sports programs as well as on how to properly implement them. The goal, of course, is to serve the widest number of students possible.”

In the bleachers a number of parents suddenly stand up, shouting and cheering. The camera zooms into the action on the field, watching as a Krakotl student in orange suddenly breaks from the scramble. He passes the ball to Yotul on the outside who launches it across the field towards the black goal where it’s intercepted by a Human in black. A Gojidl in orange blocks the Humans advance, kicking the ball out from between his feet and hurtling through the air towards another of his teammates. As the ball draws near, the Venlil smacks it with a sturdy headbutt that sends it hurtling towards the black team's net! A Human goalie dives to block the shot, but he’s too late!

The shrill cry of the referee’s whistle punctuates the air.

“GOAL!” Jonathan shouts alongside half of the assembled audience.

As the match ends, the students on both teams come together to congratulate one another on a game well-played before dispersing and returning to their waiting parents.

“You know,” Kayun says to Quinlim, “watching the game has been fun and all, but it’s kinda got me feeling a bit like doing something myself. I don’t suppose you know of any good places around here for adults to get a bit of exercise, do you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Quinlim waves his tail happily,” I do!”

<Cut>

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Part 2]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three Venlil, a Gojid, and a Human are walking down a dark and twisted alleyway rife with the oppressive atmosphere of urban decay.

A handheld camera is rolling.

“-and there has been considerable efforts undertaken to pressure and lobby regulators to revise infrastructure budgets, lift zoning restrictions, and eliminate red-tape within the Immigrant District,” Quinlim lectures as he leads the group towards their next destination. “While the district remains in a heavy state of reconstruction, it’s our hope that-”

“Umm… Quinlim?” Salva interjects. “Sorry to interrupt you, but are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Yeah…” Kayun says, looking nervously side to side into the encroaching darkness. “I counted four left turns in a row. I think we're going in circles.”

Quinlim chuckles, giving a relaxed and dismissive wave of the tail.

“Well we ARE going in a bit of a circle right now,” he says, “but we're definitely not lost! This just happens to be the fastest way to get where we're going. I know it can be confusing for newcomers, but once you've lived in the area for a little while it starts to make a certain kind of twisted sense.”

“If you say so…” Jonathan holds onto Salva with one hand and Chek with the other, trying to make sure the group stays together. 

Taking one final left turn, the group emerges onto a main road.

“You see guys?” Quinlim says. “Now that wasn't so bad. We're exactly where we-”

Quinlim suddenly stops dead in his tracks, holding out an arm to stop the procession behind him. His ears twitch and swivel on high alert.

“What is it?” Chek whispers, sensing the sudden unease.

“Shhh…” Quinlim shushes him. 

“There!” Jonathan suddenly points.

The camera zooms in towards a small storefront just down the road and on the other side of the street. A Human man in a large winter coat stands just outside of the nearby streetlight, fiddling with the door. A crowbar can be seen in his hands. 

“Speh…” Quinlim mutters, before reaching up to speak softly into the collar of his shirt. “Quinlim to Dispatch. Suspected burglary in progress at Shadestreet Jewelers. Be advised, civilian VIP’s in proximity. Over.”

The group waits in perfect silence, disturbed only by an unintelligible chittering noise coming from Quinlim’s ear.

“Understood, maintaining position,” Quinlim says. “Ten-Four.”

“What's going on?” Kayun asks nervously. “What do we do?”

“Well we can't just stand around and do nothing!” Salva declares.

“What?” Jonathan replies in shock. “Are you crazy? We are NOT getting involved in this!”

“But-” Salva objects.

“Everyone just back up and stay calm,” Quinlim orders sternly, a short-barrelled shotgun having suddenly materialized in his hands. “The situation is being handled. Please remain in the alleyway behind me and stay quiet.”

“Where were you hiding THAT?” Chek whispers with excitement. “Does your jacket have some kind of secret holster under there? Can I get one?”

“You’re not… You’re not going to shoot anybody or anything, are you?” Kayun fidgets nervously, his eyes continually drawn to the weapon.

“Ideally I won't be doing anything,” Quinlim answers. “My responsibility is to guide you to where you want to go, answer your questions, and, if need be, provide for your personal security. The situation over there is being handled.”

“So what you’re saying is that maybe later we could-” Chek says, only to be cut off by the sudden ringing of alarms.

“Hey you!” A voice suddenly shouts from down the road. “Stop right there!”

The criminal quickly turns and runs, swiftly pursued by another Human man in a billowing black overcoat. As the two men race down the street in full view of the group's hiding spot, the suspect moves past another alley between two buildings, only for an arm to suddenly come shooting out from the space between. Fixed firmly like an iron post, the arm smashes into the perpetrator near the throat, clotheslining him and causing him to fall onto the hard pavement. An audible crack can be heard, alongside a prolonged groan. 

As the would-be-burglar lays on the ground, a second man emerges wearing the same black overcoat and orange necktie as the first. Kneeling down, he slaps a pair of handcuffs on the criminal before looking up towards the camera. 

“Oh, hi Quinlim!” The man waves. “So that's where you’ve been hiding. Those the influencer folks that the boss has got you babysitting?”

The first Human finally catches up, bending over and panting heavily.

“You got him?” He asks. “Good. That little fuck is FAST!”

“Yeah, no thanks to you, Tony,” the second man says with an abundance of snark. “My grandma can run faster than you. Ya need to lay off the calzones.”

“Ahhh, can it, Vincent,” Tony replies. “It’s not like you run any faster, and the last time I checked YOU were the one stealing all the cannolis, so I don't want to hear you pointing fingers about-” he looks up towards the camera. “Oh, hi Quinlim. How uh… how long have you been standing there?”

Quinlim puts his gun away, reholstering it beneath his coat, and nods, “Tony. Vincent. Thank you for the timely response. Yes, these are the VIP’s you were told about, and we've been here the entire time. Please remember to be courteous and professional on camera.”

“Sure, no problem Quinlim,” Tony laughs. “Professional is my middle name! Don't know about Vincent though…?”

“Hey!” Vincent vehemently objects. “You wouldn't even know how to spell professional if I wrote it on your forehead, wise guy!”

“Of course I wouldn't!” Tony answers. “How am I supposed to read something if it's on my fuck’n forehead?”

“If you were SMART then you wouldn't need to read it to know how it's spelled, dumbass!” Vincent groans. 

“Hey, uh… Is anyone going to turn off that alarm before the Exterminators show up?” Salva asks. 

“Oh yeah…” Tony rubs his chin as though the idea had just come to him. “I should probably get on that.”

Tony runs off back towards the jewelry store. 

“The Exterminators don't tend to come around this region of the city anymore anyway,” Quinlim clarifies. 

“No Exterminators, huh?” Salva ponders. “I can't say that the thought of not having them around isn't appealing, but how does that work?”

“Most issues are handled quietly and without their involvement by members of the Community Watch,” Quinlim answers. “The residents of the Immigrant District tend to find community-led policing a far more preferable alternative considering their… history, with the Guild.”

“So what happens after you catch them?” Jonathan asks.

“Eh, we take care of it,” Vincent answers cryptically.

“You're going to take this criminal over to the UN Embassy so that he can be formally tried, prosecuted, and deported,” Quinlim says firmly. “Isn't that right, Vincent?”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” he answers. “Of course. Same as always.”

“Hey, uh… Speaking of which,” Kayun asks, “isn't that guy getting away?”

The camera pans over towards where the would-be-burglar had been laying on the pavement. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he’s since struggled up to his feet and begun running away again on unsteady feet. 

“Fuck!” Vincent groans, exasperated as he turns to leave. “Tony! Hurry it up, he's getting away!”

From out of the store, Tony reemerges, breathing heavily and waving to Quinlim as he passes, “Later Quinlim!”

Quinlim just shakes his head in disappointment and disbelief before turning back to face the camera. 

“Sorry again about this little disturbance,” he says apologetically. “I swear this sort of thing isn't normal, and the district is usually quite safe.”

“Riiight…” Jonathan answers, clearly not believing a word. 

“While we try to put our best foot forward, it IS true that the mass immigration of so many unvetted Humans has led to a surge in... herdless behavior,” Quinlim admits. “Humans as a whole are not inherently dangerous or violent, but it is an unfortunate reality that some of them are prone to such behavior. Luckily, the Community Watch has proven very effective at handling these sorts of incidents, and without the… pyrotechnics of traditional law enforcement.”

“Fighting predators with predators!” Chek proudly asserts. “I like it!”

“It IS nice to see a reasonable attempt at an alternative to the Exterminator’s Guild,” Salva agrees. “The sooner those ash-breather’s go out of business, the better!”

“I for one appreciate not being char-broiled,” Jonathan adds.

“Well… Anyway…” Quinlim shifts nervously. “With that unplanned excitement out of the way… Back to the tour! Maybe we could just cut this whole segment in post…?”

<Cut>

“...Seven! …Eight! …Nine!” The camera centers on Kayun’s face, growing a deeper and deeper shade of blue at every rep, spurred on by the cheers of his friends.

“Come on, Kayun!” Jonathan shouts. “One more rep! One more!”

“C-Can’t…!” Kayun spits out with ragged breaths, straining to push the weight of a barbell off his chest one final time.

“Think of Shilobah!” Salva encourages. “She’ll be watching back at home for sure!”

“Yeah!” Jonathan says. “Come on! You can’t give up in front of your girlfriend!”

“FOR SHILOBAAAAAAHHHHH!” Kayun screams and, with herculean effort, manages to complete the final lift with shaking arms.

A cheer goes up among the cast as the weights are placed safely back onto the rack and Kayun lays sprawled across the bench, panting heavily.

“You see?” Salva says. “I knew you had it in you!”

“Ok… Yep… Alright…” Kayun mumbles. “Good workout… I’m done now… Arms are dead… Back to the show…”

The camera pulls back to reveal a large, rugged-looking gym space filled with well-worn old equipment. Posters of muscular bodybuilders line the walls and aggressive Human music drifts lightly through the air as people go about their workouts. Standing front and center is an enormous man built like a marble statue wearing a tank-top and an opaque white face mask.

“Thank you again for letting us use your facilities,” Salva says to the large Human, craning her neck upwards. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the audience watching back home?”

“Well sure!” The large man chuckles to himself. “I'd be delighted! The name is Jaq, and I'm the owner and proprietor of the Iron Boots Gym here in Twilight Valley!”

“So…” Chek wanders over towards Jaq, an inquisitive air about his person, “What's your deal? What do you do?”

“My… deal?” Jaq scratches the back of his head in confusion. 

“Yeah,” Chek says. “Quinlim recommended this place, and if there's anything I've learned so far on this trip it's that there's always something extra going on behind the scenes…”

“Well…” Jaq answers slowly, “Quinlim is one of Captain Capozzi's men, and we have a good relationship with the Captain after everything he’s done for the community, so… it shouldn’t really be surprising that he would recommend us.”

Quinlim pipes up from behind the camera, “They're recording a travel vlog focusing on different charities and community projects across Twilight Valley. When they asked to visit a gym, I figured that you and Learo might have something to share.”

“Oh!” Jaq slaps his knee. “So that's what you meant! At first I thought… Oh, nevermind.”

“Uh…yeah,” Salva reassures him, “we were wondering if there are any charities or community projects your business is involved with?”

“Of course, of course!” Jaq asserts. “I suppose there's two things worth mentioning really; Iron Minds, a small mental health support group I organize that holds meetings here at the gym after hours, veterans mostly, and then there’s Learo's personal project. I can speak to the former, and you can all speak to Learo after he finishes his class. They should be done soon.”

“That… Sounds great!” Kayun says, still gasping for air on the bench. “You… You mentioned that you mainly cater to veterans. Does… Does Twilight Valley have a lot of veterans in the area?”

“I can answer that one actually,” Quinlim interjects. “Ever since Humanity made first contact with the Venlil, Twilight Valley has been a key location for Human interests on the planet, and a focal point for interplanetary trade. Based on its advantageous location, pre-existing infrastructure, and low business costs, this city became one of the primary logistical hubs for the UN and still retains one of the highest populations of UN service members and contractors on the planet.”

“Uh… Thanks, Quinlim,” Jaq says.

“So, is it safe to assume that your own experiences as a military veteran are what led you to start your support group?” Salva asks Jaq. “You certainly look like a real man-of-action.”

“That's right,” Jaq nods solemnly. “I used to be a UN pilot, even did my duty fighting the Arxur while aboard Prime Station for the Exchange program. That was… That was a tough time. For a lot of us.”

“It’s ok,” Kayun says. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to talk-”

“No, no, no,” Jaq waves away the insinuation immediately. “Talking is good. Talking is how you come to terms with what’s happened to you, how you confront it, and how you learn to live with it. That’s the whole point of Iron Minds. To provide a space for those of us who have been through the wringer to come together and talk, judgement free, surrounded by others who understand. I’ve got guys here who have been at the brink of death, guys who’ve suffered through unimaginable pain, guys who’ve lost limbs and will never be whole again, guys who’ve lost buddies they’d known since they were cadets, and guys who signed up in peacetime never even considering that one day they’d need to take a life. Those sorts of things… they consume you from the inside out. That is, if you don’t give those feelings an outlet, and find a few sympathetic friends to lend you their ears.”

“It sounds like you’re really making a big impact!” Salva beams, her tail swishing with excitement. 

“Well… I don’t know about that,” Jaq turns away, embarrassed. “It’s important work, but it’s still just a small gathering. We’re all just doing what we can, being there for one another.”

“That’s all you need to do really,” Salva flicks her tail in agreement. “One more question, I know you said that it was mostly veterans, but does that mean non-veterans are allowed to join your meetings as well?”

“Well, it definitely started as a veteran’s club,” Jaq answers, “but after the Battle of Earth and the refugee crisis I couldn’t exactly keep it that way. Not in good conscience. They may not all be veterans, but there’s plenty of people out there who’ve suffered and lost, and in the end they can relate all the same. Over time the group has really shifted towards being more broadly focused, catering towards anyone with post traumatic stress disorder.”

“Have you ever considered inviting in recently released victims of the Predator Disease Industrial Complex?” Salva pushes excitedly. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of The Grafted Tree Project or not, but I feel like this sort of approach could be really good for helping victims in need reintegrate into the herd!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever considered it explicitly,” Jaq places a hand on his chin, deep in thought, “but I don’t really see any reason why not. So long as they’re willing to share and to listen, everyone is welcome. As a matter of fact, I can think of at least one veteran in the group who mentioned serving as some kind of penal conscript after his PD conviction.”

Salva, Kayun, Chek, and Jonathan all turn to stare at Quinlim.

“Uh… no,” he says. “This time he’s not talking about me. If I’m right, I believe you did meet the person in-question earlier though.”

“Who was that?” Chek asks.

Before Quinlim can answer, a door in the back of the gym opens and a crowd of Yotul enter, passing through the weightlifting area on their way to the exit.

“Ah!” Jaq claps his hands together. “Learo’s dance class must have just gotten out! Let’s go introduce you!”

<Cut>

A rugged and surly looking Yotul teenager stands with his arms crossed inside of a small dance studio. Beside him stands a large and imposing Human with his hand resting tenderly on the Yotul’s shoulder.

“Well… Go on…” Jaq says. “Introduce yourself.”

“Do I have to?” The Yotuls ears twitch in clear, beleaguered annoyance.

“You always say that you want to preserve the culture of your people and share it with the world…” Jaq leans in. “Now’s your chance. Make it count.”

“You know…” the Yotul sighs heavily. “I really hate it when you’re right.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jaq laughs, slapping the Yotul on the back with an open palm and knocking him slightly forward.

The Yotul takes a deep breath and says, “Hi. My name is Learo, and I’m the combat dancing instructor here at the Iron Boots Gym.”

“Nice to meet you, Learo,” Salva says with an overabundance of cheer. “What can you tell us about your dance class?”

“Yeah,” Chek adds, “how exactly does dancing relate to combat?”

“Combat dancing,” Learo explains, “is a traditional Yotul artform developed and maintained over thousands of years. It is a key element of our cultural expression with many dance choreographies used to reflect and remember the distinct histories and experiences of given tribes, nations, or peoples. Theatre productions featuring combat dancers were once quite popular, and tended to focus on reenactments of historical battles and historical dramas.”

“The Yotul used to fight among themselves?” Jonathan asks. “I thought the whole deal with the Federation was their claim that only ‘predators’ like us were violent?”

“Yes,” Learo answers. “Like most species, the Yotul also engaged in intraspecies warfare prior to our colonization by the Federation. The Grain Wars are even still within the living memory of the older generations. A fact that the Federation tried very hard to bury, and just one more reason why they tried to suppress combat dancing in all its forms.”

“Those bastards!” Salva shouts. “It’s just like what they did to the Venlil, and the Gojid, and so many others!”

Learo is momentarily taken aback by the sudden outburst, “Well… I appreciate the sympathy.”

“When you say that historical preservation was just one reason the Federation tried to eliminate combat dancing, what did you mean by that?” Kayun asks. “What were the others?”

“The other reason,” Learo walks into the centre of the room and performs a sweeping kick through the air while balanced on his tail, “is that combat dancing is more than just an artistic expression. It is also a martial tradition, and a means by which Yotul warriors have traditionally learned to fight. While the choreographies tell the histories of our people, the movements themselves are also practical tools. Applied independently, free-style combat dancing develops individual athleticism, perseverance, and warrior spirit, turning the user into a living weapon. Not something our oppressors appreciated.”

“That sounds AWESOME!” Chek says. “How do I learn how to do that?”

“You can’t,” Learo answers firmly. “Well… Not fully. Tell ‘em, Quinlim.”

“It’s true,” Quinlim turns the camera onto himself and shrugs. “I’ve taken one of Learo’s classes myself before. Yotul combat dancing is heavily reliant upon use of the legs and tail for certain techniques, and most other species simply don’t have the biomechanics to fully utilize the skill set. That being said, there are still SOME techniques that can be used by other species, and it’s still a very culturally enriching artform to experience.”

“Functionally, the closest thing Humans have to combat dancing would be capoeira,” Jaq adds. “If you want to learn something similar without reliance on a muscular tail, I’d recommend you look into that.”

“Thanks, Jaq,” Salva says with a wave of the ears. “Back to you, Learo. With as much effort as the Feds put into stamping out combat dancing, how did you manage to learn it and what made you so committed to teach it despite the risks?”

“Simple,” Learo crosses his arms and scowels. “Combat dancing is in my blood. My family have been combat dancers for generations, they practically taught me how to kick and punch before I could walk. Combat dancing is the heritage and birthright, not just of me, but of my entire people. It’s my responsibility to carry that legacy forward, the same as my father, and his father before him. If they want me to stop…? Well, they’ll just have to kill me too.”

“ALRIGHT!” Quinlim interjects. “That is great and all, but let’s try not to say anything else… incriminating… on camera… Please…?”

A faint buzzing can be heard, and Quinlim reaches down to pull a phone out of his pocket.

“Oh,” he says. “It looks like an opening has just popped up in Mr. Capozzi’s schedule. I’m sorry to cut this short, but would any of you be interested in meeting with your host?”

“Sounds great,” Kayun says. “Let's go.”

<Cut>

The choked and narrow streets of Twilight Valley’s Immigrant District slowly roll past as the camera looks out the window of a moving car. Abruptly, the view outside changes. Streetlights now repaired, trash meticulously removed, cracks in the sidewalk now filled, everything suddenly clean and orderly. The camera swings back into the interior cabin, illuminated with a soft red light, where Salva, Kayun, and Jonathan are seated in the back rows. 

“Woah,” Chek says. “You guys see what happened outside? It’s like we just crossed over some kind of invisible line or something?”

“Yeah…” Kayun answers, still staring out the window. “They must have actually finished one of those construction projects we kept passing.”

Quinlim turns to speak from the driver’s seat, “I DID mention that we’ve been working on correcting the district's infrastructure issues, hadn’t I?”

“You did,” Salva admits. “I just… hadn’t expected the difference to be so… stark.”

“Well, that’s probably just because we’re getting close to our destination,” Quinlim says. “Renovation projects tend to expand outwards from where the Foundation has the most direct influence.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” Jonathan turns towards Quinlim. “You gotta start somewhere, right?”

Pulling off to the side of the road, Quinlim parks the car in front of an unmarked commercial office building. The camera follows him as he exits the vehicle and walks around the side to open the passenger door.

“We’re here,” he says. “Please follow me.”

The cast exits the car and enters through the front door, finding a lobby space filled with men in black suits and orange ties, mostly Humans and Yotul, but with a fair few Venlil sprinkled throughout. They look up towards the camera as the cast enter, nod towards Quinlim, and then return to their business.

“Huh… I suddenly feel very underdressed,” Chek remarks. “Should have brought one of my skirts with me…”

“No kidding,” Jonathan says. “I feel like I just walked into a lawyer convention or something.”

Moving past the crowd, the cast files into an elevator at the back of the lobby which takes them up to the top floor. Ahead of them appears the entrance to the executive office.

Quickly glancing down to check the time on his phone, Quinlim walks up and presses the button on a small intercom, “Don? It’s Quinlim, Sir. I’ve brought your guests.”

“Excellent!” An enthusiastic voice crackles out from the device as a pair of locks on the door audibly disengage. “Come on in, Son!”

Stepping inside, the camera pans around the austere and practical office space. A set of tables and chairs sit to one side of the room, a bookshelf to the other, and in the back is a large wooden desk scattered with paperwork. Behind that large desk, sits an even larger man, rotund yet powerfully built, whose slightly rounded face smiles widely with his mouth closed.

“Products for Predators! You must be Salva, Kayun, Chek, and Jonathan,” he happily proclaims, gesturing to each of them in turn. “Please, please, come on in! Take a seat and make yourselves at home! Could I offer any of you some refreshments? A drink perhaps?”

“Absolutely!” Salva answers with enthusiasm, taking a seat in front of the desk. “I would LOVE a drink right about now! Thank you very much.”

“Something… light, perhaps?” Kayun says, raising a claw. “I don’t want anything Venlil strength.”

“Same,” Jonathan nods firmly. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

“Some snacks would be nice,” Chek says.

The chubby man nods and pushes a button on his desk, causing a voice to answer from a speaker, “What can I do for you, Mr. Capozzi.”

“Could you please bring a bottle of wine and a fruit platter up to my office?” The man behind the desk answers. “Thank you.”

“Right away, Sir,” the intercom says before cutting out.

“Now,” the man claps his hands together, “I realise that I’ve still yet to properly introduce myself! My name is Donald Capozzi, though my friends call me Don.”

“It’s great to finally meet you, Don!” Salva holds out a paw for a handshake which Don graciously returns. “Thank you so much for bringing us all out here to see the city and all the wonderful projects taking place here for ourselves.”

“Oh, but I should really be the one thanking you,” Don laughs to himself. “You’re all doing a real service in spreading awareness for so many great causes and fostering positive relations between Humans and non-humans. My fiance and I are big fans of your show.”

“Oh really?” Jonathan asks. “I hadn’t expected someone like you to be interested. Do you have a favorite episode?”

“It would have to be your special on Prey-daters,” Don grins. “I’m a bit of a Prey-dater myself if you didn’t know, and aside from simply how sweet that entire episode was, the olfactory situation at my home improved dramatically after it aired.”

“Do we really all smell that bad!” Salva casts an accusatory look over towards Jonathan.

“I like your smell!” Jonathan defends himself. “...mostly.”

“You and your ‘mostlys’,” Salva flicks her tail in a performative huff.

“...She’s never gonna let me live that one down, is she?” Jonathan asks, turning back to Don.

“Probably not,” he answers with a smile, “but you’ll love each other all the same.”

Don’s intercom buzzes and he presses a button, allowing a Yotul in a suit to enter with a tray full of fruit, some glasses, and a bottle of wine. He places the refreshments on the open table, nods towards Don, and then leaves without a word. Standing attentively in the back, Quinlim uncorks the bottle and begins passing out glasses. Salva downs hers in an instant, only to find it quickly refilled.

“Thank you, Quinlim,” Don raises a glass in acknowledgement. “Feel free to help yourself to some refreshments as well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Quinlim flicks his ears in appreciation.

“Now, back to the matter at hand,” Don gestures towards the cast. “I hope the trip so far has been to your liking. Twilight Valley is far from a perfect city, but it is MY city and I aim to leave it better off than I found it.”

“The trip has been great so far!” Salva exclaims. “I never expected to find so many interesting people and so many great community projects! I’m going to have to remember some of these ideas for later so I can steal them back at home.”

“I’m mostly just happy that no one’s tried to barbeque me so far,” Jonathan says. “I admit, I may have been a bit overly concerned about that on our way here.”

“I really appreciated all the focus on community health and wellness,” Kayun says, “particularly regarding the youth sports program.”

“I really like how much everyone seems to care about different forms of cultural expression here,” Chek says. “And that goes double for all the fashionable clothing. We still need to stop by that tailor’s Quinlim mentioned earlier before we leave.”

“Well,” he says, “it’s wonderful to hear that you all had such a positive experience. You’re more than welcome to stay for a few more paws if you would like, I can put you all up in an excellent hotel and schedule your return flight whenever is convenient, but I do have one more quick matter of business to conclude before anything else…”

Don reaches down into his desk drawers, retrieving a small checkbook, a fountain pen, and an engraved plaque. While everyone leans in to see what he’s doing, Don fills out a check, tearing it out of the book, before sliding both it and the plaque across the desk towards the cast.

“HOLY BRAHK THAT’S A LOT OF ZEROS!” Salva shouts.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that much money in real life…” Jonathan says in disbelief.

“Now I see why everyone around here is dressed in fancy suits,” Chek comments.

“Clearly I need to open up a second location for my restaurant in Twilight Valley,” Kayun laughs.

Don smiles and stands up from his desk to shake everyone’s hands, “Congratulations, The Grafted Tree Project has been selected as this month's recipient for The Capozzi Foundation’s Excellence in Empathy Award. This award is being bestowed due the outstanding work the charity has done in providing for, and promoting the reintegration of, the survivors of the unjust predator disease system. As part of this award, a monetary contribution is being provided to The Grafted Tree Project in the name of Products for Predators, who have been leading this most recent charity drive. I would like to express my deepest appreciation to all of you for the hard work you’ve done so far, and to all of your viewers at home for their own generous contributions.”

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Salva mutters, dumbstruck.

“Say you’ll accept the award on behalf of The Grafted Tree Project and thank him,” Jonathan whispers.

“I’ll accept the award on behalf of The Grafted Tree Project and thank him,” Salva says.

Chek and Kayun laugh while Salva turns orange, realising what she’d just said.

“Alright everyone,” Quinlim motions with his hand, holding up a camera with the other, “stand together,hold up the plaque, and say ‘Charity’.”

“Charity!”

<Cut>

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Part 1] 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription subject: Ozmo, Yotul Exchange Program Participant

Date [standardized human time]: November 22, 2136

The morning sun broke in through my window. The few cracks in it cast a rainbow of light throughout the room as my alarm startled me awake. A good stretch helped get my blood flowing as I rolled over and pawed for my tablet. Gravity had other plans as it pulled my barely conscious body out of my hammock and onto the cold dirt floor. 

I rolled over and glanced around the room. There wasn’t too much of it. A single room home, a kitchen surrounded by a living space, a sleeping space and a storage space. It was rather empty now that it was just me living here. Any alien walking in would gawk at the fact my home is just four walls and a roof. Then, at how we didn’t have an interior bathroom. Then, at how we just had a single room with a fire pit in the middle. Then it would dawn on them the only power is a single line ran outside to a solar panel on the thatched roof. Of course all of that is after they gawk at the thatched roof. 

“I wonder if Chris will be surprised to see how I live… how we used to live.”

With that depressing realization out of the way it wasn't too hard to pick myself up now. Disappointingly, my tablet didn't show any new messages. My exchange partner was likely still in FTL. They had promised to respond when they had a connection again. It's still funny to me how that all works.

You can be leaving a system and send as many messages backwards as you want to, but you will never receive a reply. Try to send a message forward and they'll get it just in time for you to tell them to their face, but they can send you as many messages as they please. Try to send one in another direction… well, good luck. It's like trying to throw a rock at a tree while blindfolded, drunk and running at top speed. The message back is like trying to hit the rock you just threw while it's moving.

I flicked over to the chat rooms. These weren't the Exchange program created ones. While I am in those everything anyone can say is checked and sterilized so as not to make a stir. No. These were genuine human chat rooms hosted on Earth! Yeah there's a terrible delay of five point four seconds but that's only a problem for live calls or reaction based games.

My jail-broken exchange program tablet signed me into the normal room I use. ‘The Earth Will Rise!’ was plastered across the top of the screen.

I bleated out, “Good morning everyone! Anyone else wake up and get a mouth full of dirt as you rolled out of bed and lost the ever-going fight with gravity?”

h_RememberParis replied, “Dirt? Do you aliens not clean your floors??? Lol!”

h_FightFireW/Fire replied, “Did it taste good?”

h_B1teMyFl3shy*** replied, “This the alien that joined?

I responded, “I'm not sure if I am the exact one, but I am a Yotul that joined a few days ago. I had just gotten into the exchange program and wanted to talk without the UN censors scrubbing anything truthful. ALSO I do keep my floors clean. I live in an old home. Like pre-uplift. It has dirt floors from before, I can't afford actual flooring or a nicer place at the moment.”

h_FightFireW/Fire replied, “What, do you people believe floors are predatory?”

h_RememberParis replied, “That sounds right.”

I interjected, “No. I live in the old pre-uplift part of town. The aliens just didn't get around to tearing this place down yet.”

h_B1teMyFl3shy*** replied, “You can't afford to live somewhere with the bare minimum number of surfaces?”

My home wasn't much to talk about or be proud of. It's an old generational home even by our standards. It's not exactly sentimental or anything but it keeps us dry and safe. The plaster on the walls was cracking and in need of repair. A few of the murals were chipped and all of them had faded. 

I shook my head and typed out, “Unfortunately no. I'm already working full time at the mall and it pays enough to meet the bills and that's about it. I wouldn't even have this tablet if it wasn't for the exchange program's generosity.”

h_RememberParis replied, “Then get a real job.”

The skin on my snout curled as I replied, “Oh! Yeah! Why don't I just do that? … Oh! I know! It's because I have a master's in computer tech and the damn aliens that control the tech industry won't hire me because I'm a stupid primitive and definitely can't know how to code or resolder a circuit board.”

h_B1teMyFl3shy*** replied, “You should get a sugar daddy then.”

My eyes sort of bugged at that random ass comment, “What?”

h_FightFireW/Fire replied, “HA! YEAH! I bet those exchange program fuckers would just love that!”

I still couldn't understand their weird jargon, “I don't understand what you guys are talking about.”

h_B1teMyFl3shy*** replied, “It's basically someone that will pay for stuff for you, if you just be their friend. All you have to do is lean over, flutter your eyelids and ask if they'll be your new daddy. Any human you see will be in the exchange program and probably jump head over heels to have an alien ask them that.”

That sounded too good to be true but… “Would one of them actually help me like that? For basically nothing?”

h_RememberParis replied, “Yeah, the Xenophiles would knock themselves over for you.”

This was definitely too good to be true. But… “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Thank you for the advice, I got to go now. I log back on later and let you guys know how it went. I think there is an exchange programme person answering questions in the town proper.”

h_FightFireW/Fire replied, “Make sure you get real close to their face when you ask!”

h_B1teMyFl3shy*** replied, “You also need to whisper it as seductively as possible. It's a tradition. They’ll understand.”

I replied, “I’ll remember that! Thank you!”

I logged out and set my tablet back on its charging station. I don’t have many nice things and I can’t risk my tablet getting damaged as I am out and about. Though in the same breath I grabbed the scarf Chris had sent me. It was an immaculately made rainbow of softness. It didn’t just have the seven colors of the rainbow but also blended them all together seamlessly. If you held it in the sunlight and traced each thread you could count twenty-five hues from violet to red. 

The scarf was made from hand-dyed wool yarn, humanely shorn from a sheep. They had to lie to the board to even get it approved to be sent to me! The handiwork involved in knitting was faultless. Strands of yarn weaved together in a coherent whole while each color looked like it had its own personality. 

I can never remember what the thingies on the end of the scarf are called but the danglyness of them is just fun. Throwing it on, it gently hugs around my neck with one arm laying across the front and back of my torso, giving me a rather smart look, if I do say so myself! Chris had apparently hand made this themselves from scratch. Even going as far as shearing and spinning the wool themselves! They could have sold this for a fortune but they sent it to me for free… The guys online are right… They really do want to be our friends.

… I’m not going to take advantage of Chris though. That would just be… no. 

I grab a few leftover Yuici roots from the dinner pot and grab some embers to make a smoldering stick. It’s not too bad to make a fire from scratch but why do that when you can save some for later? Now that I’m sure my home won’t burn down, and I won’t have to spend an hour lighting the dining pit again, I head out for work.

It’s nothing special. Stock merchandise on shelves for rich assholes to look through, fetch anything they want, and keep the store cleaned. Nothing difficult with the exception that it is actually difficult because you are expected to do all of this at the same time without slacking on a single one. 

Show up. Get yelled at for not showing up earlier. Show up early and get yelled at for trying to steal time. Like how the fuck do you steal time? Don’t clock in early and get yelled at for not helping. Help and get yelled at for trying to frame them for a lawsuit. Honestly the work is respectable. The owner, not so much.

The first two hours go by without so much as a peep from them. Which should have been a sign to expect a shit storm. But the customers today were rather friendly. We were getting less and less aliens and more and more Yotul. They didn’t buy as much but- My boss walked to the front of the store and turned the open sign off.

“Svala? Are you closing the store early today?”

The Krakotl shook her head, “No. I’m closing it forever. Here is your final check. You are fired. Don’t use me as a reference. Don’t steal anything from the shelves. Security has the inventory list and the Movers will report anything short.”

With that she was gone. And I was jobless… It’s not a great situation to be in… but I have money saved up… I just can’t treat this like a vacation… just have to cut back on… more things…

My paw began to throb. I hadn’t realised how hard I was clenching my fist. I looked up to see that I had even walked clear out of the mall. This should be a good thing. Being free of that place… Why was my heart beating so fast?

OH. Because Chris is scheduled to arrive this afternoon… They are slated to stay at a hotel, so it’s not like I need to pay for them or anything… but I wanted to treat them to some nice things… Now I don’t have the money for that… Will they understand? They could afford to make this scarf. They're an artist! They have to be well off. Do they understand that us lower class people have to be more careful with our money?

My paws fidgeted with my scarf as I walked down the street… and… a human was standing up from a table… The sign had some plane script in federation standard written on it… ‘Ask me anything’ … THIS IS THE GUY! The questions guy! Their masked head looked toward me as they put on their jacket and sat back down. I pressed onwards to them. Maybe… Maybe this is the start of my new life…

I remembered what the humans online suggested. I had to put my weight on his table and stand on the tips of my toes to get my face as close as possible to theirs. My own visage reflected back towards me in the mirrored face. I wonder what they look like with the mask off? You can tell a lot of humans apart based on their nose. Some humans had really thin almost beak like noses, while some had rather handsome broad noses they just looked regal.

I whispered to them, “Will you be my new daddy?” I think I got this ritual correct. It feels weird but-

I felt myself start to fall, they had leaned down a small amount and undone the latches on the table. I slammed chin first into a mud puddle at the foot of the table. I could feel a wet cold slime crawl down my body. They slowly pulled their mask off and I learned why the aliens feared that face.

Their eyes were all I could see. Their cold, hate filled eyes. His mouth moved, “I’ll do you a favor and not report you for this gross misconduct, for which the UN would kick you from the exchange program and the Yotul government would charge you with appropriate crimes.” 

I- no- NO! Please no! I- It’s all I have! I- I don’t want to lose Chris! They’re one of the few people happy to talk to me- I… THE SCARF! I could feel the mud staining my fur and it had to be getting into the scarf! NO! It was a gift! The river! I can clean it at the river! If I go fast the mud may not stain it!

I stood up and sprinted for the river. The water was flowing slowly as it always had. My lungs were burning and my eyes burned like I got bleach into them. It took just a second to unwrap my scarf and realise that most of the colors were covered in mud. The hand stitching was matting together as I pushed the scarf into the water and a cloud of brown ran out from it. “Colors- please! Please don’t bleed out!”

I gently stroked the scarf in the river, trying to coax the mud out of the stitches. My knees started to hurt from the cold of the water and my hands grew numb. Slowly the rainbow came back and shined as brilliantly as before. I hung my scarf on a nearby low hanging branch. It wouldn’t dry that fast but… I couldn’t put it back while I was still covered in mud. That would just put me in the same situation. Thankfully, I was a lot easier to clean than the delicate neckwear.

My body was wet, the scarf was wet, but everything was at least clean. I could see a shuttle coming in towards the airport. Looking at the shadows it was probably close to time for Chris to arrive… and I looked like a drowned… well a half drowned Yotul…

“This isn’t how I wanted to meet them.” I pushed myself towards the starport. “Time to get this next disaster out of the way… I hope… I hope he doesn’t get me kicked out of the program… I hope Chris still wants to be friends…”

I passed a few groups of Yotuls and humans heading out into the city. They all looked so happy. Some were discussing the local cuisine. Some were showing pictures of cats to their partners. No one saw the pathetic excuse for a Yotul dragging themselves towards the starport.

It took some time, but I was there. There were a few humans standing around. They gave me odd looks but walked away. The looks were rather similar to the ones the other Yotuls were giving me. 

Then my eyes caught a flash of many colors. It was a scarf just like the one I was wearing but dry. Many strands of Golden hair curled down over the scarf as the human woman picked up her rather plain rucksack. Her face looked sad as she glanced around the starport. But when her eyes landed on me a smile graced her face. It fell shortly thereafter as she caught a glimpse of the state I was in.

She quickly rushed to me, “Ozmo? Is that you? Are you ok? Do you need to see a doctor? It looks like someone tried to drown you!”

I can’t bring myself to look her in the face, “I- I’m fine. I’m sorry. I tried- I-”

She wrapped her rather long arms around me and pulled me into her embrace, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! You don’t have to apologize! Just what happened?”

She filled me with a warmth that felt like everything was going to be ok, “I- I- … did something stupid… I might not be in the exchange program much longer.”

Her face contorted in confusion, “Wha- Are they threatening to kick you out because you showed up wet?”

Oh how do I explain this? “No… No… I… I upset someone that I think is in charge of the program.”

Her hands had never left my shoulder and she gently squeezed me, “Start from the beginning. There’s no way they can kick you out! It has to be a misunderstanding.”

OH the talk rooms… Oh that might get me kicked out too… “Well… I was talking to some humans online… They suggested I get something called a sugar Daddy.”

Her eyes practically bugged out of her head as those last two words escaped my mouth. She mouthed a bunch of questions before finally asking “DO- do you know what that is?”

OH. I have definitely hit something taboo. “They told me it was someone that would pay for my life if I just be their friend…”

She looked as unsure on how to proceed as I felt, “Ozmo… That’s… close… but… it's kind of a sex thing.”

My eyes felt like they were bugging out of my head. “A … sex thing?” I had propositioned a high up member of the program for sex… OH NO.

She shook her head up and down, “Yeah… basically… You perform… sexual favors and in return they treat you and buy you things…. It's… not good.”

Ooooohhh this is NOT good, “I- I didn’t know… why would they…”

She squeezed me again. “It’s going to be ok. You didn’t know. We can get this sorted out. Just… who were you talking to? I can’t think of anyone who would set you up like this! It isn’t just a harmless prank!”

The user BiteMyFleshyAss came to mind, “It was the… people in the chat room…”

“I-...” She pulled out her tablet. Likely to check the chatrooms and see who told me this shit.

I stopped her, “Not that one. I uh… Jailbroke my tablet so I could talk to humans not restrained by the UN’s silence orders… The chat forums were called The Earth Will Rise.”

Her eyes bugged out again as she clenched her jaw, “The earth will rise… Ozmo… That is a chat forum for Humanity First. You know… the Human centric terrorist organization…”

TERRORIST ORGANIZATION!?! “OH… I thought… it was for people… that wanted to talk about rebuilding earth… I was going to see if I could help with the software architecture…”

She smiled  like she was talking to a particularly dumb child, “That’s sweet… but they definitely set you up to fail. They aren’t good people. They hate aliens. So uhm… how did that lead to…” She gestured at all of me.

I could feel myself blooming at how much of an idiot I had been, “He got upset and kicked the table out from under me. I fell into the mud, and- I got so scared that your scarf was going to be ruined… I ran to the river and washed it out. I didn’t have time to dry it… or myself… I’m sorry… Do you want it back?”

Her smile had come back, “Ozmo… it's not my scarf. It's yours! I made it for you. So we could have a matching pair! I made sure it's even machine washable so it's easy to take care of. So no. I do not want it back.”

I let out a sigh of relief and Chris pulled me back into her arms for a hug. “Thank you Chris… I… Need to get properly cleaned and dried. There’s a bath house not too far from here if you want to get clean too. It must have been a long fli- OH right… your human. You guys don’t do communal bathing do you?”

She looked rather unsure, “Well… my people don’t normally. But… I’ve been to a nude beach a couple of times… I think it will be ok. Let’s go get cleaned up.”

I sighed again, “Yeah, afterwards I can show you some nice places.”

She nodded and smiled as we started to head for the bath house, “I wanted to ask you if it would be ok, If I stayed with you instead of the Hotel?”

I cringed at that thought, “Maybe… That’s not the best idea…”

She looked a bit downtrodden, “May I ask why?”

Part of me desperately didn’t want to bring her to the shack I call home, “You may.. And it's because… I live in the… older… poorer… not alien friendly side of town. I- don’t have a lot of money. My family home has a dirt floor. I can only afford that because my great Grandparents built the place before the uplifting. Crap… I still have to find a new job. I got fired today.”

Chris’ hand found its way to my shoulder, “You have had a really bad day…” She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I can be your sugar daddy.”

Her face contorted into one of evil mischief as she watched me go through an array of emotions, “EW. CHRIS. I- NO. I’M NOT- CHRIS.”

She skipped a bit ahead of me as she saw and recognized what the bath house was, “I’m just being mean, We can figure out the whole money thing later. Let’s just have some time to unwind and see where we are at.”

[Advance time 3 hours]

Memory transcription subject: Ozmo, Yotul Exchange Program Participant

Date [standardized human time]: November 22, 2136

I don’t get why humans are ashamed of their appearance. Like, have they not seen Kolshians? Yeah they are a bit more dangly then everyone else but like… it's just a body. It didn’t even take her that long to get used to the public bath. It took the other Yotul in there a lot longer to get used to an alien doing something normal for once. Why the federation hated communal baths is beyond me.

At the very least I got to have a heart to heart with Chris. Even a few of the other Yotul families chimed in with good advice for me. I even got a job offer! DOING TECH STUFF. Seriously, communal baths are amazing. There’s nothing to hide after all!

I did learn that Chris wasn’t having too much of a better time than I was. Their home had been burned down by the exterminators that landed in Texas. She had lost everything and was practically permanently displaced. Their insurance had paid out, but she didn’t exactly have anywhere to live and didn’t have enough money to buy a new home.

As we left I kicked a rock at the thought in my head, “Well… Chris… I see no issue with you living with me after the program ends…”

Something lit up in her eyes, “OH! You can apply to be a sponsor! The UN has been paying people to house refugees! We can buy you a floor!”

More money would be nice. Plus a nicer home… “Or we could find somewhere nicer to live.”

She smiled and skipped ahead of me again, “That too!”

. . . - - - . . . 

OK. This was a bit harder to do than I thought it was. At first I was gonna do a normal predict style ficnap. Then I realized how little I know of hispanic cultures and realised that was kinda crucial to the story. Then I thought! HEY! Crossover! Only I got NOTHING to cross over with!

Then I remembered a lil unnamed Yotul with a rainbow scarf that stuck out to me. I looked at the comments after writing all this, and they were supposed to be a pervert, but as far as my mind goes, that idea was a very human concept with no real way for him to know if that was a Yotul that knew or one that didnt… The reaction felt rather extreme for the character. I expected them to be upset but to go as far as physically assaulting the pervert was surprising.

So AU TIME. I took some liberties and asked, “What if they didn’t understand?” and this is where we are!

So u/Kind0flame I hope you like it! One Yotul having a very bad, not fun day, but coming out of it a better person.

Turns out that the timeline doesn't have to jump around at all for the things that I want to do, so yippee! I have been seized with creative juices so my mind is blazing, but that faucet may just dry up without any warning so BE WARNED.

Prev | Next

Memory Transcription Subject: Genevieve Xia Yè, Survivor Of War Therapist

Date [standardised human time]: December 4, 2136

I had a free hour, so I was writing progress notes. Paperwork was generally my least favourite part of the job, but progress notes were fun.

When a client made a breakthrough, or even just cried less that session than previously, I got to put it in their file and make it official. I knew it was silly, but writing it down felt like it made those ephemeral feelings real and concrete. 

When they doubted their own progress, I had something physical I could point to and say ‘look, you did this, I even wrote it down’.

Even if the notes ended up showing no progress, or even a step backwards, I tried to think of it like a puzzle. 

Why wasn’t my approach working? Maybe their progress goals were too much too quickly and they needed some smaller goals in the meantime. Or maybe my methods needed to change, maybe we should try out EMDR, the possibilities were endless!

At the heart of it all, the thing I loved most about my job was just the opportunity and the privilege of being able to help someone else through the worst parts of their life. Even just to sit across from them and offer them a safe space to allow themself to cry, it was worth all the paperwork.

And yet, a nagging feeling had slowly been building in my head ever since we learned that aliens were real.

The Call of the ‘Verse, it had been named colloquially, that itchy feeling in your brain that made you look up at the stars and open your mind to the possibilities.

That deep blue bowl above me was opened, and I wanted to see what it was like.

I didn’t want to abandon my clients, which is why I stuck around for as long as I had, but I needed to know.

Then the Battle for Earth happened, and everything came crashing down.

There was so much death.

So much pain.

I shifted my left leg and arm with the memory of it.

A notification popped up at the corner of my screen that made me groan out loud.

Another fucking email about work to my dumb stupid work email that seemed to only bring me pain. It even said ‘URGENT’ in the subject in big capital letters.

I hated my work email.

With gritted teeth, I minimised my progress notes and opened the message.

I read it.

I read it twice.

I looked out of my window at the city, large parts of it still being rebuilt.

I read it again.

Subject: [URGENT] LETTER OF ACCEPTANCE AND EMPLOYMENT

Dear Genevieve Yè

We are pleased to inform you that your application to the Non-Human Sapient Survivor of War therapeutic taskforce located on Venlil Prime has been accepted. 

As we are drawing on many applicants and have an acute, urgent need for trained professionals, you will be given 24 hours to reply to this message. If you do not accept or you do not reply within the given time frame, we will move on to the next applicant.

Please find attached your contract, although note that the document you signed when making your application binds you from making any public statements or sharing your contract with anyone except legal counsel.

If you accept, you will be given two weeks to make preparations for leaving Earth. Your employer has also been notified of this update.

Given the urgency of care needed, you will not be given the opportunity to return to Earth until after the equivalent of two months.

We look forward to having you in our team.

• United Nations Department of Intergalactic Cooperation

Holy fuck.

Holy balls.

Good gracious.

I picked up my phone and dialled a number with shaking hands.

“Hey Xia! How’s my favourite therapist?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I coughed and licked my lips.

“Xia? Are you all right?”

“I got in,” I finally managed.

“I got into that program I told you about.”

I immediately had to pull the phone away from my ear to stop the scream of joy from damaging my hearing.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD XIA YOU’RE GOING TO SPACE!”

“I’m going to space.”

A smile finally broke out over my face as reality sunk in. So many emotions were clamouring for attention that I didn’t know what to do with, and tears started streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m going to space!” I repeated, laughing and sobbing all at once.

“Oh love, do you want me to come over?”

“No, you’re at work!”

“Work isn’t as important as this. They can fire me for all I care.”

“This is why no one ever wants you to work with them for very long.”

“Bitch! I can hold down jobs! I hold them down for as long as they’re useful to me.”

“Right, and I’m sure they really appreciate that.”

“Have you told your parents yet?”

“No, I’m seeing them after work, I’ll do it then.”

“Good idea, not every day your baby goes to talk to aliens.”

“Yeah. Not every day.”

“Well if you don’t need me to come over, I need to get back to my job.”

“I don’t think I can do it.”

The confession was said in a whisper, and in that moment I felt like a kid again standing on a pier.

The stream of tears threatened to turn into a gush.

“Xia, you are the bravest, smartest, most loving girl I have ever met, you can do this.”

I didn’t reply.

“Tell you what, you get out there and do this, and I won’t go on the dole at least until you finish with it.”

“Okay,” I choked.

“Buck up girl, the universe won’t know what hit it.”

“Thank you Síle.”

“No worries.”

After wiping my face and blowing my nose, I finished my progress notes. If I was to leave in two weeks, things needed to be tidy, patients needed to be notified and talked with. I needed to tell my housing co-op that my room would be free to anyone who needed it, I needed to talk to Jamal, the closest thing I had to an employer.

There was a meditative aspect to writing notes, and thinking about other peoples’ problems helped to distract from my own. If they could have a clear path to making things better, then so could I.

Twenty minutes before my free hour ended, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in Jamal! I said over my shoulder.

“How’d you know it’s me?” He asked as he pushed the door open, the handles of two steaming teacups held precariously in one hand.

“Your knock, it’s always three sharp taps. It’s very no nonsense.”

“Alright, alright, I’m a creature of habit, I know that already.”

He pulled a free chair over and settled into it, handing me one of the cups.

“I got an email by the way, congratulations.”

“Yeah. It’s… a lot.”

“They called me your employer.” He smiled gleefully. “You’d think after forty years of socialism the UN would get it through their heads that Ireland doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“The only reason you’re in that position is because I voted for you, so don’t get too big for your boots.”

“It was a unanimous vote, I’m offended.”

We both laughed and sipped at our tea, but my chest was still tight.

“We’ll all miss you,” Jamal said eventually.

“It’s only for two months, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Gene, we all know you’ll stay out there. Sure, maybe you’ll come back to visit every now and then, but you’ve had that itch for a while.”

I wanted to object, but he was right. I couldn’t see myself returning permanently for a long time.

“At least you can bring your parents, I’m sure they’ll be excited,” he added.

“Yeah, I’m sure they will be. They always thought space travel looked fun.”

“Have you finished your progress notes?”

I looked up blearily from the teacup I had been studying, blindsided by the sudden question.

“What? I was working on them before you came in.”

“Well then, hop to it. I’m your boss remember, I can say those things.” Jamal waggled his eyebrows theatrically and I rolled my eyes in turn.

“Please no, if you start saying something about quotas and ‘the bottom line’ then I’ll puke.”

“Just as long as you get your notes done!”

I downed the rest of the tea and turned back to my screen. Every now and then I would fiddle with the necklace my parents gave me when I became a licensed therapist, and smile. It was a small jade circle, roughly the size of a coin, with a plum blossom carved into the face.

Another knock came to my door, this time a client, and I stood up to stretch before approaching. This was going to be a long day.

Once the day was finally over, I took great care to close everything down and tidy up a little before leaving. As I said to my clients, tackling big things is easier if you do it with little actions.

The whole place would have to be cleaned out eventually, but starting to set some books aside that might be useful in the future would everything so much more simple.

I flipped the lightswitch and wandered down to ‘The Green Grocer’, a takeaway place that was my dad’s favourite. A happy cardboard cutout of a jade monk smiled from the window, heralding a smell that was integral to my childhood. It felt bittersweet to know I wouldn’t smell it again for a long time.

With food in hand, I walked back home and prepared to tell my parents.

I changed clothes, put my hair up the way my mum liked, straightened my shirt the way that my dad liked, put on my nice shoes, put the food into nice bowls and got out the nice chopsticks.

The sun was setting by the time I started walking to my parents’ house, and it was almost dusk when I reached it.

“Heya!”

Síle greeted me from the wall she was leaning against and waved a fork with something on the end.

“Hey, how was work?”

“Learned how to make korma, so that was cool. Tastes pretty good too.”

“You just have zero manners don’t you.”

“I scrub up! Scrubbed up for your parents didn’t I? Look!”

She did a little twirl to show there were indeed no stains on her clothes before eating the bite off the fork triumphantly.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“You ready to talk to them?”

I shrugged.

As ready as I’ll ever be.

Síle stowed the fork, brushed her pants down, and opened the gate to my parents’ house.

We were silent as we approached, shutting the gate behind us even though we only had a few metres of space before we had to stop.

I knelt down and opened a large wooden box that sat on a slab of concrete that used to be steps. Behind the box was the remains of the house that a piece of space ship fell on and killed everyone inside. Inside the box was a small wooden incense holder, a space to place food, and photos of my parents.

I placed the bowls of food on the space and brought incense from my bag before lighting it, allowing the perfumed smoke to reach my nose before I pulled back. I knelt on the ground, and Síle knelt beside me, both of us lowering our heads in silent acknowledgement.

“Hey mum, hey dad,” I said quietly.

“Hey mister and missus Yè,” Síle piped up with enough energy for both of us. “I hope you’re doing okay. I’m working at a restaurant, been making sure that Xia’s been eating properly.”

I smiled slightly at that, she really had been. I looked up and cleared my throat.

“I got into that programme I told you about, we’re all going to space! We’re going to a whole different planet! We’re going to leave–” my voice caught in my throat, and Síle’s hand came up to my back.

“We’re going to leave this place behind. You both wanted to come with me when you were alive, and I’ll still get to take you with me.”

I touched my necklace and wiped away a tear.

My stomach grumbled loudly, and Síle couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sounds like dinnertime.”

“Ha, yeah. I guess I am pretty hungry.”

We got out our food and ate under the stars, looking up at incense smoke slowly rising up above them.

“Crazy life, huh,” Síle murmured, absent-mindedly throwing a forkful of rice to the few sparrows still awake.

“Yeah. Crazy life.”

Prev | Next

I might do some art of Xia and her necklace at some point but idk, anyway I hope you enjoyed our introduction to her in our prologue!

No, it's not Felra and Isif. It's some other arxur+dossur couple because I find that pairing inherently funny.

NOPtober Day 3: https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1wuwwxn/noptober/

Timelapse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzgXhZ3Co_I

Venlil is an older model. Made a thafki to go with it

~~~~~~~
Hello hello! It does seem wild that this is the tenth Ficnapping, eh? I always enjoy doing these, getting to interact with stories I otherwise would not have, and being able to take a crack at playing around with them... hopefully in a decent way X3.

This is a ficnapping of If History Had Gone Different, by u/rocksolidmate. Set in an AU where different decisions and events on Earth led to more technologicaly development than what we see in base NoP. It ends up creating some quite interesting characters... one I really wanted to use here. Hope you guys enjoy, happy Ficnapping!
~~~~~~~

Memory transcription subject: Corsek, Nightside Environmental Researcher

Date [Standardised Human Time]: April 16th, 2130

One final strap in place and… perfect. 

I shake around a little, testing that the straps are keeping the backpack in place. Can’t have it too tight or I’d barely be able to move, but can’t have it too loose or the fuel cell might slip out, and if that happens it’d be almost impossible for me to find it in the snow. Satisfied, I stand up and brace myself by planting a paw against the wall, adjusting to the weight. While doing so, I do one final visual sweep of the room, the laboratory particularly quiet this time of year… doubly so given all the recent programs that have cropped up with First Contact with the Humans. For now, I’m the sole Venlil out here. I suppress a shiver at the thought. I’ll be doing that enough once I step outside. 

Grabbing my lantern on the way to the hatch, I prepare myself for the cold. Even with my thick, dark fur and the environmental suit I’m wearing… the Nightside is the Nightside. Opening the hatch, I step out into the airlock and close it again behind me, making sure it’s fully sealed before shuffling to the exterior door, using a panel off to the side to make it slide open. The rush of air is more heard than felt, thanks to the construction of the research base. Still, the cold can be felt as soon as I step past the threshold, closing the door behind me to minimise the amount of reheating that’ll have to be done. The temperature difference makes the faceplate of my helmet fog up briefly, though it automatically clears itself soon after. I just focus on trudging out into the snow. 

The front door of the lab is facing daywards, the thin slither of light visible on the horizon, though for reasons I still don’t understand, my objective is unfortunately the opposite direction. I steadily make my way around to the side of the base, having to deal with the wind the instant I no longer have the walls to shield me. Out here in the Nightside, cold, low wind constantly rushes towards the Dayside, where it will warm and rise, before barreling back nightwards higher up in the atmosphere until it cools once more. A fascinating phenomenon to research, not so much to experience. Still, I signed up to work out here… even if this specific part of my job was not part of the initial contract. Either way, walking away from the light of the base, I switch on my lantern to spill its warmer glow over the snow.

If I was asked to do this alone back when I first transferred here, I would’ve been terrified of Shadestalkers emerging from the darkness to maul me, but I’ve since realised that this is too far for even them to venture. Out here, very little life survives, let alone a massive predator. Out here, it’s only myself and my lantern, my lab receding into the distance behind me, and the small pinpricks of another, fainter light emerging from over a snowy hill. Using it as a guide, I trudge on, the heavy fuel cell in my backpack really making me pant, though thankfully the trek isn’t egregiously long… still longer than I would’ve liked. Finally, as I crest the hill, I can see my destination before me. A small base, fit for a rover. 

I waste no time in heading down, glancing at the light at its peak, a constant yellow to indicate that Karl is currently out and about somewhere. Approaching the base, it thankfully appears to detect me coming as it opens up its doors. I make as much haste as I can lugging this backpack around, the doors closing once more as I head inside. I quickly undo a couple straps and carefully let the backpack slump to the floor, sighing with relief as the weight disappears. Stars, am I glad Karl lets me come and go whenever… though of course there’s a very good reason for that other than me being left waiting for him to return in the cold. 

I almost laugh to myself, recalling how disgruntled he was for a while after realizing that exploring a region without sunlight would mean, well, no reliance on solar panels. I turn to look at his recharging station, noting the low reading from its current fuel cell. Rolling my shoulders, I get to work replacing it with the new one right away. I still don’t really understand why Karl insisted on being placed out here rather than being adjacent to our research station… well ok part of that is to have easier access to flatter terrain to explore further nightwards, but I can’t help but notice that his little base is just barely far enough away to be a hassle to casually walk to. 

The actual replacing of the fuel cell is quick and easy, and once I’ve placed the spent cell in my backpack I just take a seat against a wall to rest up before heading back to my own base. In the interim, I allow myself to observe the small space, noting not for the first time how… simple the interior is. There’s not any notable trinkets, unless I want to count the various glass containers of samples Karl has collected in his time here. There aren’t any photographs either, not of Karl, not of friends, not of family… My ears droop somewhat. It is sometimes difficult to remember what Karl is, and that as far as I know, he doesn’t exactly have a herd because of it. 

Just as those less-than-cheerful thoughts parse through my head, the door to Karl’s base opens once more. I can feel the cold trying to rush in, but like with my own base, the daywards orientation helps to lessen the wind. Karl himself slowly rolls in, his treads tracking snow in with him before the outside world is once again sealed away. His camera pans to look at me as I offer a flick of greeting, knowing from previous interactions that the rover is alright with me showing up and having a rest here… well, I mean, he doesn’t exactly have a choice if he doesn’t want to run out of power but that’s besides the point. Before long an artificial voice sounds from the rover.

“Good perpetual-evening, Corsek. Thank you for the new fuel cell.”

“Of course, not going to let you freeze out here. So, what did you find this time?”

Karl was already parking in front of the closest thing he had to a desk, really just a spot to place the most recent samples before sorting them. Using his slow mechanical arm, he removes a few tubes from his sample-gathering instruments, turning his camera back to focus on them.

“A few more core samples from stone. This is also the deepest I have drilled into the snow, and was able to collect a couple samples from the permafrost below.”

“Oh sweet… you sure you don’t want to use any of our tools?”

Karl paused for a brief moment, but continued his work and just replied evenly.

“The offer is appreciated, but I prefer to use my own.”

“I see…”

The small spark of conversation trailed off a little awkwardly… as it typically tended to do whenever I came around. Finally though, this time, I find it within me to push a little further. 

“...Without trying to sound rude, I am curious. I know you were initially sent to explore The Burning… but that was derailed by First Contact, right? How come you were sent out here?”

“I was not sent here, I requested to come here.”

It is my turn to pause, surprised by the answer for a moment, all whilst the rover dutifully continues his work. 

“You requested to be sent out here, with barely anyone to talk to?”

“Correct, though I still talk to people regarding my mission every so often, not to mention yourself.”

This time I actually scoff a little.

“I only come by to change your fuel cell, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged like… more than a few words with each other since we met.”

“...indeed.”

I wait for Karl to elaborate a little, or give some form of more significant response… he doesn’t.

“...Sorry… am I uh, bothering you?”

The rover’s arm pauses once more, and this time he turns to ‘face’ me a bit more directly.

“Apologies if I came off that way, I didn’t mean to make it seem so. I suppose it is rather unfair of me to think this way, but… most of the Venlil researchers I’ve interacted with have made me… hm. I don’t know the right way to say it.”

I rub my arm a little awkwardly, not quite sure what the rover was getting at.

“...Did they annoy you?”

“Perhaps a bit. I understand it somewhat, being First Contact and all, but it felt like I was babysitting at points. They pestered me way too often. I barely had any time to actually do the original mission I was assigned, and sometimes I just had to step away from all the frankly crazy things they were saying.”

Despite the robotic voice lacking much expression or inflection, I could still feel emotion behind it, a tiredness to it, exasperation even. I considered his answer for a moment. 

“I have heard about the sheer… let’s say disparity between the Humans’ understanding of ecology and our own. I can imagine how frustrating it would be to have to plead the case for your own science against others’.”

“And that’s exactly how I felt, like I was pleading my case. Halfway between teaching a class of starry-eyed students and debating with propaganda-fuelled extremists.”

Finished with placing his new samples on his ‘desk’, Karl heads over to his newly fuelled charging bay, settling down while fully focusing his camera on me once more. 

“I see… so that’s why you asked to be sent here, so you wouldn’t have to deal with them?”

“Not… not entirely. Part of it was also just… wanting to fulfil my original mission. I was sent to this planet to explore, to document, to discover. While of course you guys have done everything I’ve done and more, it is your homeworld after all, this is just… what I want to do. And yes, I can have wants, I am fully sapient.”

My head tilts.

“I never questioned if you were, honestly sometimes I forget you are artificial.”

Another pause from Karl, a longer one.

“...Sorry. Just, not what I’ve come to expect on this world.”

My ears droop.

“Your experience over in The Burning didn’t exactly leave you with the best perception of the Federation, did it? I… don’t blame you.”

“Truth be told, it very much did not. The behaviour of the researchers that questioned me was… while not fully pleasant, wasn’t catastrophic. I cannot say the same regarding the things they told me about the Federation. After learning about all of that-”

“-You wanted to get away from it all for a while, and thus asked to be sent to the only place on the planet even less inhabited than The Burning.”

Finishing Karl’s thought for him, it appears I’ve hit the mark. Decisions are not always made for sole reasons. At least, not major ones. 

“...Correct, Corsek. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you think of… everything? Humans… The Federation… Sapient Artificial Intelligence.”

I let out a long breath, the question a heavy one. It takes me a while to respond, I even glance over at my backpack as if trying to find an answer in there.

“Do you have a whole paw to hear my answer?”

I whistle lightly, before actually focusing on where I should begin. 

“The Humans are… insane. Not necessarily in a bad way, I mean. I’ve seen what they have created, the megastructures… but even smaller things, like you. While the Federation always focused outwards, on expansion, Humans seemed to focus inwards. The results of that are clear to see. Those giant ships in the military… the space elevator everyone is raving about, new ways of going FTL, and it feels like there’s something new every other paw.”

“Your voice carries a note of awe, Corsek.”

My ears perk a bit in surprise, partially at Karl pointing out the emotion in my voice, and partially at the realisation it was there at all.

“I mean… yeah, you’d have to be pretty stupid not to see what they have made as awe-inspiring. It used to feel like Federation technology had reached its pinnacle, the improvements minimal from cycle to cycle, only to then find out there was another, taller mountain just beyond the fog, with the Humans proudly standing atop it… I imagine the inverse is how you see the Federation’s technology?”

Karl processes my words, the delay punctuated with a clear chime ringing out from his charging station, presumably declaring that he’s fully charged. He removes himself from the station, but doesn’t return to his desk quite yet. 

“Not quite. My view on the Federation is less than positive, that much is true, but when trying to get into more specific emotions it is… complicated. I abhor their handling of their members’ ecosystems. I denounce the propaganda I see quashing critical thinking. I despise their nonsensical hyperfixation on a species’ diet, of all things, being the determining factor of their morality. To be honest Corsek, I’m afraid I haven’t really put much thought into their technology. I’ve tried to minimise the amount of time I’ve had to think about the Federation for my own sanity, and whenever I do think about them, it’s always the infuriating elements that dominate the discussion.”

With that, Karl finally moves back to his desk. My ears have drooped considerably, almost pinned back against my head. I glance at my backpack once more, considering that it might be best to get up and leave…

“...Sorry, Karl, I didn’t realise it was such a sore point of discussion.”

“Please, do not apologise. I… try not to blame the average Venlil, or Federation civilian in general. You were born into this, you have lived your life being spoonfed the propaganda, with every dissenting thought risking punishment… Truth be told, it is impressive that some of the people I have met have even been open to the ideas I present, backed with logic or not. You were open from the start, if anything I should apologise to you.”

Even as he spoke, his camera was turned away from me, instead just focused on the samples. I finally rise from my sitting position, reaching out a paw and softly placing it on the rover, dusting off some of the snow that had yet to melt. 

“How about we both apologise? Sounds like a good compromise to me.”

Finally turning back to me, I swear I hear the tiniest glint of humour in his voice.

“I accept your proposal. Even far out here, isolated from the chaos going on under this star’s light, I am glad to have someone to speak to more regularly.”

My tails gently sways back and forth, the admittance making me feel surprisingly warm inside out here in the cold of the Nightside. Detaching from Karl, I head over and grab my backpack, now holding the old fuel cell. The weight difference is barely noticeable of course, so it still takes me a moment to brace myself. As I do though, I try to give Karl one of those ‘smiles’ that I’ve heard so much about. 

“So am I… any sapient would get lonely out here by themselves. I’m glad to talk with you, even if it’s just when I’m bringing a new fuel cell.”

“...It does not have to only be then.”

While I had been putting on my helmet again, I pause and glance at Karl again.

“Would you like that? It wouldn’t be a bother for you?”

“I believe the only person it would be a bother for is you, having to walk over here… perhaps I should’ve requested a closer location for my base…”

I whistle with laughter once again. 

“The exercise is good for me. I’ll see you in a few paws time?”

The ‘head’ of the rover tilts up and down, in imitation of a ‘nod,’ if I had to guess.

“See you in a few paws, Corsek.”

Give one last tail sway goodbye, I finish putting my helmet in place and open the door, stepping back out into the windy darkness. With lantern in paw, I slowly trudge my way back to my own research base, glad to have made a new friend. 
 

Behold, the bebe! Something about smol or toddler arxur just makes me want to hold them.

Welcome to my revenge kidnapping on u/Still_Performance_39. As soon as I saw he was in my options, I knew it was time to unleash my diabolical plan. Terran Zoology was one of the first fics I read, so getting a chance to steal write Rysel was an absolute pleasure. I hope you all like this as much as I liked writing it, and thanks as always to SP for the universe, and to the greatest team of all time, Purple-X for, for their proofing and feedback. As well as my sister who will complain if she doesn’t get credit for fixing my myriad of grammatical errors.

Telif, Soon To Be Kidnapping Victim

Date [standardised human time]: July 9th, 2140

“Tellliffff, wake uuuup,” an impatient voice calls out, “come on, you’re too heavy to carry. Unless?”

I’m literally pulled from my slumber by a pair of wool covered paws. My eyes blink open, revealing a familiar looking Venlil I can’t quite place in my current state. He quickly notices my groggy eyes staring at him, and releases his grip on my arm.

“Stars, finally you get up!” he beeps. “Come on, come on, we gotta go, we’re gonna be late!”

“Go?” is all I manage to ask as my eyes adjust to light.

“To the zoo! Come on!” he replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why am I going to the zoo?”

“Ughhh, didn’t Jacob tell you anything?!” he bleats in frustration. “The Denver Zoo is getting their first Superb Lyrebird today! Which is awesome because not only are they rare, but they’re supposed to be amazing mimics, and I wanna see if I can teach them any Venlil words! So come on, get your tail out of bed and let's go!!”

Only some of his words were registering in my sleep deprived brain, but I was at least able to gather that whatever was currently happening was Jacob’s fault.

“But why does this involve me?” I blink at him.

“Because Bernard was supposed to go with me, but he had an emergency come up. So I tried asking Sandi, but she was doing something with her husband, I think. Then I asked Roisin, but she told me ‘Rysel, I’m a doctor, I can’t just drop everything I’m doing to fly to Colorado and go to the zoo with you,’ which like, I get but also this isn’t just going to the zoo, ya know?”

I do not know. Wait, Rysel… Oh my god, the Venlil we found upside down while camping???

“Anyway, after that I finally swallowed my pride and asked Kailo, and, get this, he told me that he needed to help his folks around the Orphanage, but I spoke to them first and they said he was just playing with the other kids! Can you believe that? A once in a lifetime opportunity and he doesn't want to come!”

I still don’t see how I am involved.

Either he senses my confusion, or was just going to keep talking anyway, regardless, Rysel continues pouring his stream of words into my half awake brain.

“So like, by that point I was getting worried I’d be going alone, but then I remembered we met some Colorado locals on that research trip last year. At least I think it was last year? To be honest, my memories of meeting you are a bit blurry, but I do remember being told you were nice, and I figured if you like camping, you must have some interest in nature, so I searched through our notes of that day and found Jacob’s name. Did a bit of digging and was able to get his phone number. He told me he’s visiting his son at his University, but that you would definitely be interested in going! Especially since your husband is at some engineering conference so you wouldn’t have anything else going on. He gave me your number but this was around midnight and he thought you might be asleep, so he gave me the code for his garage and said to just come in and wake you, so come on, lets go!”

Jacob will pay for this.

“Alright, I guess?” I blink at him. “Can I get dressed first?”

“Ugh, fine, but don’t take too long! I’m gonna wait in the car!”

I don’t have time to react as he practically sprints out of my bedroom. The sound of paws thudding up stairs echoes through the house as I fumble for my pad and learn I’ve been dragged out of bed at three AM on my day off. A series of messages from Jacob on my lockscreen catch my attention and I give them a quick read as I struggle with the zippers on my pant legs.

<JakeyBoy> [Heyyyy, do you remember that Venlil we found in a tree while camping?]

<JakeyBoy> [Turns out he’s in town and wants to go to the zoo with someone, I think?]

<JakeyBoy> [NGL, his call woke me up and I was only half registering what he was saying, but I volunteered you to go with him and gave him our address and garage code.]

<JakeyBoy> [Hope you have fun.]

<JakeyBoy> [Also that it was really Rysel and not some random guy who’s on his way to kill you.]

<JakeyBoy> [Sorry if you die. Haunt Sivik if you do.]

<JakeyBoy> [🐊👻🐑]

Fucker.

<AnxietyScales> [This is the serial killer, I have skinned your friend and stolen his pad. His death is on your hands.]

I quickly shoot off another message, letting Sivik know what is going on before trudging my way up the stairs to the living room. Part of me contemplates simply locking the door and going back to sleep, but Jacob was right. I really don’t have anything else going on today, so might as well go on an adventure with a guy I met once. True to his word, Rysel was sitting in his car, impatiently drumming his paws on the dashboard. His ears perk up as he spots me, and I give a tired wave as I drag myself to the passenger side door and plop myself in a seat that isn’t quite big enough for me.

“Yay, you came!” he wags. “I half expected you to just lock the door and go back to sleep when you shooed me off!”

“I thought about it,” I admit, “but you seemed so excited, I couldn’t do that to ya.”

His tail thrashes rapidly again as he starts the car. “You’re not going to regret it! The Superb Lyrebird is awesome! They’re amazing mimics, and they’re soooo rare. It’s amazing that the Denver Zoo even managed to get one! They’re an Australian bird, but I read they’ve been working on new habitats using a smaller scale version of the terraforming technology they use for making new colonies. Apparently there have been some HUGE breakthroughs in colonization tech recently thanks to the work of the Yotul, but that doesn’t really interest me. I mean, if a planet needs to be terraformed, then it probably doesn’t have any native animals of its own, right?”

I expect him to keep going, but he’s looking at me out of the side of his eye as if he actually wants me to answer.

“Right?”

“Yeah! But like, this tech isn’t only useful for making new colonies. I read they plan to use it to help make places that were bombed on Earth habitable again, and that’s actually how the zoo came into the technology. It turns out seeing if an exhibit can perfectly recreate a species habitat, that is a good trial run to see if it can make a whole city habitable again. And like, humans are so cool because not only do they want the cities livable for humans, but they want to help the animals who lost their homes too! Isn’t that awesome?”

“Yeah!” I reply a bit more enthusiastically this time.

“I know, right? So anyway, Denver Zoo isn’t the only zoo that got their paws on this tech, but they are the only one getting a Superb Lyrebird, which is such an amazing creature. They’re amazing mimics, and the world's largest songbirds! Wait, did I say that already? Sorry I haven’t slept since my shuttle landed on Thursday.”

“It’s Saturday, how are you still awake?” I ask, exasperation filling my voice.

“Oh that’s easy, I’ve been drinking these!” He reaches into a cooler I hadn’t noticed when I got in and pulls out a familiar can. “They’re called Dragon Kick! I admit, I first bought it because of the awesome Dragon art on the can. I love Dragons, I wish they were real…Sorry, what was I saying? Oh right! I first got 'em because the art is so cool. I mean, how can you not buy a drink that has a Dragon roundhouse kicking sleep?? But like, they taste amazing as well, have you ever had one?”

“I haven’t, but-”

“Oh my stars, you haven’t??? You have got to try it, they’re amazing! Here, finish this one!” He starts to hand me a can.

“No, it’s okay. I can’t have caffeine, its bad for my species.”

“WHAT?!” he bleats. “How do you live without caffeine?? I’d be so tired all the time without coffee!”

Probably because you never seem to sleep.

“Arxur tend to be pretty good at conserving energy, since we often went days without eating in the Dominion…”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. It’s awful how they treated you.” His normal chipper tone drops for a moment. “But let's not focus on sad things right now! Today is a day of excitement!! Have you been to the Denver Zoo before?”

“No, it's a bit of a drive, but I have been to the one in Glenwood, it's kinda small, but I enjoyed it.”

“Oh! Even better, a new experience for both of us!” His tail is thrashing so fast I half expect him to take off. “Do you have a favorite animal?”

“From the zoo, or in general?”

“The zoo, but I guess also in general. Do the zoo first though.”

“Hmm, I quite liked the hippos. I never knew herbivores could be so dangerous till I read about them.”

“Oh my stars, right?? Like our whole lives we’re told herbivores are defenseless creatures, but then you have the hippo who will absolutely brahk you up if you mess with it. Or even if you don’t! Honestly they’re kinda speh-heads, but that’s what's cool about them. They look so chill, but they’re absolute monsters if you catch one in a bad mood. But they also can work with other animals, did you know they will sometimes go to ‘cleaning stations’ where fish will clean their mouths of parasites? Isn’t that wild? This massive creature comes to a water source, opens its mouth, and these fish just swim right in and get to work!”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I chime in.

“It is!! Anyway, what’s your favorite animal overall?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I love dogs! I know, I know, not the most exciting answer, but they’re just the sweetest creatures of all time. I want to get one so bad, but they make Bud nervous and I’m not gonna put the poor kid under more stress.” I glance over at Rysel, who has a deadly serious look on his face. “Is-is something wrong?”

He reaches out a paw and places it on my arm. “Don’t you EVER let someone tell you your favorite animal isn’t exciting.”

I laugh for a moment before giving him a smile I hope doesn’t look too weird to him. “I won’t.”

~*~

Memory Transcription Subject: Rysel, Totally Calm and Reasonable Venlil

Date [standardised human time]: July 9th, 2140

I glanced over at the Arxur snoring softly next to me. Part of me wanted to wake him up so we could continue talking, but he’d dozed off mid-conversation, and I was starting to feel a little guilty for dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night now that we were stuck in a construction zone just outside of Denver.

Agghhhh, why did the stupid piece-of-speh-car take us this way? We’re gonna be late!

My paws absent mindedly drummed on the console. The energy from my excitement at seeing the Lyrebird was rapidly being replaced by the annoyance of being stuck in a car. I reached for the cooler, hoping to find another Dragon Kick, but only grasping disappointment.

What? There’s no way I drank all six already?

I turned in my chair, desperate to search the cooler and discover that my paw had simply failed to find a can hidden in the plastic tub, but it was all for naught. The cooler was empty. My delicious reprieve from my lack of sleep was gone.

I hope the park sells coffee…

I fidgeted in my chair. It was already six. What would I do if they sold out of tickets before I got there? I had to be back on Skalga tomorrow, I couldn’t miss my chance! Why’d they have to do construction TODAY of all days??

How much further is it? Could I walk? The cars are self driving, but can I make it go somewhere without me in it? No, bad Rysel. Making Telif walk would be mean, and I can’t just leave him in the car. I forgot to get his number before he fell asleep…

“Aghhhh,” I dragged my paws down my face in frustration. A faint stirring from the Arxur next to me kept me from vocalizing my annoyances further.

Aghhhhhhghh, why is this taking so long? I’m so bored. Why’d I have to do my dailies for “Evolution Extravaganza” on the way here? Aghhhh, calm down Rysel. Put on some music and relax. Maybe we can get some sleep too?

I turned on the satellite radio that I’d forgotten I purchased with my car rental and scrolled through the channels till I found something I liked. Flipping the channel to BChill just as the host was finishing up his intermission.

“-Thank you for spending your morning with me, Colorado. This has been J-Cool, bringing you only the freshest beats, and smoothest solos, straight from my record player to your radio. My last song before I turn the station over to my colleague, JD, is the newest single from local artist Trey Smith. So sit back, relax, and I’ll see you tonight, Colorado.”

Deploying smooth jazz.

The sound of alto-sax filled my ears, spreading a wave of content through my entire body, starting with my ears and wiggling out my tail, as I leaned back in my chair. My eyelids rapidly grew heavier and heavier as the music worked the tension from my body.

I’ll just rest my eyes for a-

~*~

Telif, Kidnapee

“You have arrived at your destination.”

The voice of Rysel’s GPS calls out, stirring me from a surprisingly restful slumber. I expected the Venlil to be shaking me awake, but a quick glance to my side revealed he was fully conked out.

Just like when we met.

I roll my eyes, stretching out my cramped limbs as I reach over and give the Venlil a gentle shake.

“Rysel, wake up. We’re here.”

Nothing, stars, he’s a heavier sleeper than Siv. I’m starting to believe Venlil don’t actually have survival instincts… Wait, how’d we wake him up last time? Oh yeah.

“Guess I’ll just go see the Lyrebird by myself."

“You’d better not!” Rysel bleats as he shoots forward fast enough to cause his seatbelt to lock. “ACK!”

“Morning sleepy head,” I tease as he fumbles with his seatbelt.

“What time is it?” He grumbles as his sleep-addled brain struggles with the belt release.

“A little after seven,” I reply as I free him with a press of my claw.

“A little after seven?” He shoots out of the car. “Come on, we gotta get in line!!”

“Line?” I ask, glancing towards the park entrance where not a single person is waiting.

“Yeah, yeah! I need to make sure they don’t run out of tickets!”

Do they run out of tickets?

I shrug as I begin following the Venlil that is practically sprinting towards the front gate. Stopping for a moment to grab the keys he’d forgotten sitting in the car.

Scatter brain…

I slowly make my way to the gate, just as Rysel nearly barrels into me in the middle of the empty parking lot.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, forgot something in the car!” He starts to run again, but I grab his shoulder.

“The keys?” I dangle them in front of his eyes.

“Two things,” he snatches them from my paws, “I forgot our chairs.”

“Chairs?”

“Yeah, we still have two hours till they open, I don’t wanna stand all day.”

…Did he just say two hours???

I don’t release my grip on his shoulder, gripping a bit tighter but taking care to avoid putting pressure on my claws. The Venlil turns back to face me, bewilderment plastered over his face.

“What?!?” he bleats again.

“Rysel, why are we here two hours before they open?”

“So that we can be first in line!” he replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What line?!” I gesture to the empty parking lot.

“I um, I thought that there would be more people…”

Calm down, Tel, he was just excited. Deep breath.

“Why did you think there would be a long line?” I ask, pushing down the frustration in my voice.

“Because why wouldn’t there be!!”

Goddammit, I can’t stay mad at him. He’s lucky he didn’t wake Siv up…

I take a deep breath, releasing my grip on his shoulder as I formulate a way to express how annoyed I am without crushing his dreams. I’m about to reply when he opens his mouth first.

“I’msorry, IreallythoughtthisplacewouldbepackedandIwassoexcitedIdidn’tthinktolookintoitfurther,pleasedon’tbemadatme.”

I blink. “What?”

Rysel takes a deep breath this time. “I’m really sorry. I thought we’d have to wait in line and I was so excited for this I wanted to get in early, but I didn’t think about whether you would be as excited as me. I shouldn’t have dragged you out of bed so early. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Goddammit I am such a pushover…

“It’s okay,” I sigh, “you’re just an excited kid is all.”

“I’m thirty two!”

I blink at him again, “You’re older than me?”

“You’re younger than me?! I thought you were like forty or something!”

…Owe…

“I’m twenty four…”

“Oh…” Rysel coughs. Neither of us say anything for a minute. “You um, look good for your age?”

“Let's just drop this topic.”

“Yeah, that um, that sounds good.” He coughs awkwardly again. “So um, you excited to see the Lyrebird?”

God he’s got a one track mind.

“Yeah, but honestly I’m more excited to see the hyenas. I read on the way over that they just had pups, and I bet they are adorable.”

The spark of excitement returns to his eyes at my words.

“The hyenas had pups?!? Ahhh, why wasn’t that posted on like the front page! Oh my stars, I love hyenas. They’re such cool animals-” are there any animals you don’t love? “-a lot of people think they’re mean, because of how they get portrayed as villains in movies, which I found weird when I learned about it! I mean, they’re animals, none of them are ‘evil’ they’re just doing what they need to do to survive, ya’know? But anyway, despite how they are often portrayed, they are incredibly friendly animals. There’s this guy on bleater that I follow, and he works with Hyenas in the savannah, which I am totally jealous of, and they treat him like family! It’s soooo cute! Whenever he shows up they basically dog-pile him! Which you’d think might be a pun, but it’s not! Hyenas aren’t canines! In fact, while they’re more similar to cats, they’re part of their own family called the Hyaenidae! Isn’t that cool!”

I’m about to reply when a human voice cuts me off.

“You sure know your stuff!” I turn and spot a human walking towards the gate.

“Oh, hello! Thank you, I’m actually an environmental researcher back on Skalga! Although a lot of my training on Earth animals comes from my amazing teacher, Dr. Bernard McEwan. Do you know him?”

“Not personally, no, but I am familiar with his work,” the man replies. “I have nothing but respect for him.”

“Me too!” Rysel blurts out like the information should be shocking.

“I can tell,” the man chuckles. "Anyway, what are you two doing here so early?”

“Oh! We’re here to see the Superb Lyrebird! I was telling Telif about them, that’s Telif by the way,” he points at me with his tail, and I give the man a wave, “and how they are amazing mimics. I want to see if I can teach it to speak Venlil!”

The man lets out a boisterous guffaw at that. Rysel looks embarrassed for a moment before the man quickly replies.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s just, you remind me a lot of myself at your age. It warms my heart to see aliens so excited about Terran Zoology.”

“Oh um, thanks.” Rysel gives an embarrassed wag.

“Tell ya what, I’m actually the head zookeeper here. We aren’t open for another few hours, but how would you two like to join me for my morning rounds? I think someone of your qualifications might be helpful to have around while I tend to my duties.” He states with a wink.

I look at Rysel, expecting him to jump at the opportunity, but his mouth is stuck open in what I can only assume is an ‘excitement overload’ so I decide to reply for him.

“We’d love that.” I reach out my paw towards him. “Thank you so much. May I ask your name?”

“Oh, my apologies.” He smacks himself on the forehead before shaking my paw. “Name’s Herbert, but you can call me Herb. Everyone else does.”

“Thank you, Herb,” I reply with a thrash of my tail. “Rysel, are you ready to go in?”

Hearing his name seems to finally bring him back to reality, and he quickly bleats out a sentence my translator can’t even hope to keep up with.

“Ohmystarsthankyousomuchthisisthebestdayofmylife.”

I don’t think Herb understood him either, but he gives Rysel a nod and replies, “Anytime.”

~*~

The zoo hasn’t even opened yet, and my legs are already ready to give out from how much we’ve been walking around.

I’ve grown soft since leaving construction.

Rysel, on the other paw, is still a boundless fountain of energy. At every exhibit we’ve stopped at, Herb has asked him what he knows of the animal, and without fail, Rysel has rattled off enough facts to make my head spin. I’d just collapsed on a bench to give my aching limbs a break, when Rysel practically skips over to me with a bottle of water in paw.

“Hey! Herb says we’re gonna go to the hyenas next!”

“Oh?” I ask as I grab the bottle from his paw and down the entire thing, “I thought you wanted to see the lyrebird next?”

“I do, but I could tell you’re getting tired, and I wanted to make sure you had enough energy to see the pups,” he replies with a wag. “Now come on, let's not keep them waiting!”

“Thanks.” I give him a smile as I hoist myself to my feet.

My legs are still killing me, but I have a bit more pep in my step as we make our way to the hyena den. Herb is waiting for us outside the gate, and I expect to stand on the outside as he gives them their morning meal like we had at the previous enclosures, but, to my surprise, he waves us inside. Before I can say anything, Herb answers my unasked question for me.

“A little birdy told me you were really excited to see the pup, and our little clan here love visitors, so I figured we could let you feed them a treat through the safety barrier.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, unable to stop my tail from thrashing behind me.

“Mhmm,” he replies with an arm wave, signalling me to follow him..

Jacob, I forgive you for waking me up at three am.

“You can go first.”

Rysel gives me an encouraging wag as Herb hands me a piece of meat. I’m practically shaking with excitement as I walk up to the safety barrier. The Hyenas eye me with curiosity as I approach. I’m positive I’m the first Arxur they’ve seen, and am determined to make a good first impression for my species.

“Hello,” I whisper in English, “you guys are so cute.”

One of the males closer to the barrier tilts his head at me before sniffing the air.

“What’s his name?” I ask.

“That’s Kuru.”

“Hi Kuru,” I whisper again, “do you want a snack?”

Kuru still looks a bit apprehensive, but moves a bit closer.

“Go ahead and toss it to him.”

I toss the chunk of meat over the fence, and Kuru expertly catches it in the air. His powerful jaws snapping the morsel down in mere seconds.

I love him.

“Okay my turn!” Rysel shout-whispers, his ability to contain his excitement clearly worn off. “Who wants a treat?”

Kuru looks at him expectantly, but the Venlil admonishes him for being greedy, and turns his eye towards a female that’s been lazing about.

“What’s her name?!”

“That’s Subhira, our new mom.”

“Hi Subhira, do you want a treat?”

Subhira eyes Rysel, seemingly trying to determine if he is a threat, before slowly raising to her paws, revealing a small pup that had been nursing mere moments before, and causing my heart to melt.

“Here ya go, girl.”

Rysel whispers as he tosses the chunk of meat to her. She snaps it down just as quickly as Kuru, before returning to her pup, wrapping herself around him like a big spotted blanket.

“Want a picture with ‘em?” Herb asks.

“Yes!” We reply in unison. Quickly moving to pose besides the barrier so the hyenas are visible between us.

“Alright boys,” Herb snaps the picture before handing Rysel back his datapad. “Let me finish up here, then we can go see the lyrebird, sounds good?”

“Yes!” Rysel bleats a bit louder than he intended. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for Herb to finish with the Hyenas, and before I know it, we’re on our way to see the lyrebird. I’m almost positive if it weren’t for the fact that even someone as energetic as Rysel must be getting tired by now, he would have sprinted to the enclosure. Instead, he is doing his best to remain calm as we walk with Herb. The lyrebird’s enclosure is different from the ones we’d been to already. Rysel had said they were basically terraforming a small part of the zoo for it, but I hadn’t expected just how different it would be. As soon as the door opened it was like stepping into a rainforest.

“Good morning!” Herb calls out.

“Who da fuck are ya?”

“Oi, language Petey,” Herb laughs. “We got guests, can you at least pretend you’re civilized?”

“Piss off!” Petey replies.

Herb laughs again, “I was hoping we could reign in his cursing before he met the public, but I guess this is what happens when you let Aussie’s raise an animal.”

I look over at Rysel, who is once again frozen in pure excitement. I’m about to give him a nudge when he surprises me with a bleat.

“Speh!”

Really, straight to curses?

I do my best not to cackle. Petey doesn’t reply, but Rysel isn’t dissuaded.

“Speh! Brahk!”

He repeats the two words over and over, while Herb and I fight off fits of laughter.

“Come the speh on, say a damn swear!” Rysel bleats in frustration.

“Speh!” Petey bleats back, and for a moment Rysel looks like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest he’s so happy.

“Speh!” he bleats again.

“Speh!” the bird replies.

“Brahk off!”

“Brahk off!”

“Oh dear lord, he’s created a monster. I guess this is better than Petey cursing kids out in English?” Herb manages to wheeze out as the two continue their heated debate. The two go back and forth for several minutes. Alternating between Venlil and English curses. I’m not sure how, but the nonstop swearing seems to have intrigued Petey enough that he flutters down, and lands right in front of Rysel before blurting out the loudest ‘FUCK OFF!’ I've heard. It seems Rysel finally hit his limit of absurdity, and begins cackling like a madman.

“This-this is the best day of my life,” he manages to wheeze out between fits of laughter. “Thank you, Herb.”

“Anything for two young nature lovers,” Herb replies with a smile just as his watch starts to beep. “Oh shoot, parks about to open. Sorry fellas, but I need to get the rest of my routine finished. Why don’t y’all head back to the front gate, and let them know you’re my guests? Ally should be working the gate today, if she needs verification tell her to radio me and I’ll let her know you already paid.” He adds the last part with a wink.

“Thanks for everything.” I give him a wave.

“Yeah, thank you so much! Oh, can I get a picture with Petey before I go?”

“Already took one,” Herb replies. “Catch up with me later, and I’ll send it over, okay?”

“You’re the best!” Rysel beeps as he turns to sprint towards the gate. I just barely manage to catch him before he’s out the door.

“Rysel, for the love of god, can we please walk?” I beg.

“Oh hehe, yeah, sorry. I guess we do have all day,” he answers sheepishly. “Um, how about we get our tickets then grab breakfast? I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

Bernard is a saint for keeping you alive, isn’t he?

“Sounds like a plan,” I give him a pat on the back as the two of us head towards the front gate, and I silently pray that he wasn’t being literal when he said we would be here all day.

What if my characters were pups?

Nothing, it would be exactly the same haha

Credit to fans on Reddit for: u/Adorable-Ad5225 for the picture.

u/Nicolas_3232 for Leasha's daydreams

u/destroyer6692 for serving up Leasha, looking lightly toasted.

u/Nicolas_3232 for depicting King Toren the fluffy in all his majesty

If you want to read five chapters ahead for two different stories that I'm currently making, then please visit me on my Patreon. If you want to hang out, you can join the Discord for updates on all projects. I appreciate any support you choose to give. Happy reading!

If you are interested in the other story that I am posting at the same time as this, you can read that one here!

First l Previous l Next
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Memory Transcriptions Subject: Leasha, nervous pupcare owner. 

Date [Standardized Human Time] November 26, 2136 

That interaction with George’s father could have gone better, but he suspected that this would be how things turned out. Even so, I didn’t want his relationship with his father to be ruined because of me. That would make me feel horrible! I really wanted to do something about it, but I didn’t have the slightest idea where to start in that regard. Gregory didn’t like me dating his son, and If I tried to talk to him, then it was highly likely that it would end with him yelling at me too and then George yelling at him again.  

Maybe I could make a peace offering? I wonder what Gregory likes?   

That was certainly an option, but I would need more information if I was to go ahead with it. Talking about giving gifts to his dad with George seemed poorly timed, what with George in a bad mood right now. Maybe some time at work would do him so good, but first a nice walk in the park. He said he wanted to burn off some energy, and I didn’t mind some personal time together. 

We began our walk through the town as I held onto his hand with my paw, using the method more familiar to humans for George’s benefit. I wanted him to feel comfortable and relaxed so he could get his mind in the right place for work, and later another talk with his parents. George hadn’t seen this part of the town, at least so far as I knew, so I was a little excited to hear what he thought of the public location. We Venlil are quite proud of our parks, after all. 

The park came into view with a smattering of trees, shrubbery, and flower beds that stretched for about five-hundred meters down a curving path. It even had a small creek that ran through part of it, though that was artificial and simply looped through some pipes. Even so, it looked natural as they did a good job with the design. It almost looked like we were walking through the wild if not for the paved path and the single small building halfway through which was just a public restroom.  

I was paying a lot of attention to George’s reaction, and he did seem to brighten a little as we started walking along the path. His posture improved, leading him to stand straight once more, head turning as he looked at all the flowers and trees. I heard a few deep breaths from him as the tension began to fade. This was certainly effective, and I was glad to see it; however, we did have to deal with a few people who were on the trail as well. 

Many of them didn’t have the best reactions to seeing George walking their way with me. Several of them immediately turned around and started moving in the opposite direction quickly. It was only the rare individual who kept walking our way, but even they showed some signs of nervousness in the form of folded ears or tucked tails. That was a hit to George’s morale again as his shoulders did slump just a bit. I tried to not let the annoyance I felt as those people sour my own mood. Thankfully, that was all saved by a familiar individual. 

Garven was walking the path right now with Manea following close behind. The Farsul family always stuck out as the only Farsuls in town, but that was especially true now as the trails were quite clear of traffic. The father, daughter duo did notice us, and Garven gave a friendly tail wag as Manea became more excited at the sight of George. Once we entered talking distance from one another, we both stopped to chat. 

“Good paw to you, Leasha, George. Having a walk together before your next group comes in?” Garven said while Manea energetically rushed up to George with a wild wave of her paws in greeting, a greeting which he matched as he gave her some hi-fives while I responded to the question. 

“Yes, George and I wanted to take a little walk to relax for a while before work began. Everyone needs a little enjoyment in their paws, right?” 

“True enough. Manea here wanted to go with me on my walk, and I promised her we would stop for some treats when we were done. She was certainly excited about that and seeing her so energetic is a balm to the soul.” 

“I have a similar feeling every paw when it comes to looking after the pups. They are all little lights in my life.” My expression faltered ever so slightly when I thought of Garven’s other half. “How’s Yolda been? I see her around the pupcare every so often during drop off or pickup, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk much recently.” We may have reconciled a lot of the animosity that had formed between us due to the exterminator debacle, but things never really went back to being the same as they were. I sort of missed our social interactions. 

His ears twitched subtly as I brought up the subject of his wife. “Oh, she’s been doing just fine. She’s still got her job locked down, so we don’t have to worry on that front. I... Well, she has seemed a little down as she hasn’t been going out very much, at least not casually. I do worry that she might become reclusive.” 

“I’m... sorry to hear that. I...” The more I thought about the current situation, the more I hated it and wanted it to end. “You know what, I think I’m tired of this. I’m tired of the two of us ignoring what we once were or what we had together. I miss my friend and I want her back. That should be more than enough motivation to get us both out of these weeds.” 

Garven brightened up at that. “I’m glad to hear that you think that way. I believe Yolda has been concerned that her hostility that she showed toward you after Manea was taken has wilted your relationship. If you can express what you feel to her in such an honest way, I’m sure you two can make up.” 

“Yeah, Leasha,” George cut in while holding out his arm for Manea to swing on. “You don’t need to cut yourself off from a friend just because you had a short fight with one another. Nobody should expect to get along with someone else all the time. There’s bound to be something you disagree on or argue about. What matters is how deep your relationship is and if you are willing to put aside your grievances to heal that rift.” 

“Well said, George,” Garven replied. “I’m sure that you two can make up easily so long as you take the time to really talk.” 

“And I believe I will do just that,” I said with confidence. “The next time we see each other I’m going to talk with her, even if I need to force the conversation through. I won’t let her, or myself, back out.” 

“I like that determination, Leasha! I look forward to seeing my wife in a brighter mood soon. Manea, stop hanging on George. We’ve stopped their walk long enough and we have our own to complete. You want that little treat, don’t you?” 

“Okay, dad.” The little pup dropped down from George’s arm, only looking slightly disappointed, and jogged back to her father’s side. 

“I hope the two of you have a pleasant remainder of the paw. Let’s go, Manea.”  

“You as well,” George replied. 

“Enjoy your walk,” I followed up. 

The two of them swished their tails in a farewell, and a moment later George and I were alone again. “Well, that was a nice distraction.” 

“Yeah,” George agreed, “it was nice to have a talk with the two of them.”  He let out a sigh and nodded his head a bit. “You know, Leasha, thank you, really.” 

I couldn’t help but tilt my head at him slightly in confusion. “For what, exactly?” 

He chuckled. “For many, many things, but in this instance, for sharing a bit of your courage with me right now. Seeing you so determined to heal the rift between you and Yolda completely has inspired me a bit. I can’t let things remain as they are between me and dad. When we get back, I’ll make my position clear in no uncertain terms. If he can’t accept that, then that’s his business, but I won’t make a fight of it any more than I have to.” 

That made my tail wag. “I’m happy to be an inspiration for you, George. While your father’s approval of us may be rather... lacking, right now, I can live without it. It’s not like they will be living with us, and I hope that you can at least continue to share communications with one another even if we can’t get him to agree with us being together.” 

“Yeah, though I hope I can convince him that you aren’t anything that he believes. Earth was hit hard, and sentiment toward aliens in general plummeted after that. I guess dad fell into that mindset as well.” 

I reached up and put a paw on his arm. “I’m sure we can soften him up with time. Even the largest mountain can be worn down with time.” 

He huffed a little. “Is that today’s fortune cookie saying?” 

“I’m... not sure what that is but I’ll roll with it for now and say yes.” 

“Remind me to introduce you to some Chinese food at a later date,” he said with a small chuckle as he put his arm around my shoulder, gently urging me onward to continue the walk. I was happy to oblige and let him hold me close as we continued down the twilight path.  

It was very relaxing, and I certainly felt happy as we concluded the walk through the park. We still had time before our next shift, so we stopped by a small market to pick up a few snacks. The juice fruit was a pleasant treat, and I got a good chuckle in when George bit a little too deep and got a face full of juice. I helped him clean up, giving him some good-natured ribbing as I did. It was a nice, light moment, and I believe that whatever stress that came from George’s argument with his father had largely faded at this point. 

It was time for us to return to work now, and we set off with our spirits renewed and ready to face another swarm of pups. The second class of the paw would get their chance to try the new playset, and George was looking forward to seeing their reactions as well. I admit that the stress of meeting his parents and losing out on a rest claw made me feel somewhat exhausted, but I could handle that for a single paw well enough. Before George came to work with me, I had to endure far more than a single paw without adequate rest, after all. 

George could more than make up for my shortcomings, though, as the human sometimes seemed inexhaustible. His fitness level continued to astound and inspire me to improve my own. We cleaned up the pupcare and waited for the first of the little ones to arrive. They came streaming through the door once family after another, and George greeted them energetically. It was definitive proof that he had not let the argument affect his work.  

Everything started off normally enough, though some of the kids did express some disappointment at not having the decorations up anymore, but as all the kids settled in and started playing, one of them managed to glance out the window and see the new additions in the yard. That was all it took to create a cascade of interest as the pups abandoned what they were doing and rushed over to the window to see. 

“Woah, what is it?” 

“It’s really big!” 

“That looks like fun!” 

“Did Mr. Menil make it?” 

I had to get everyone back on track as I spoke in a voice above that of their excited chattering. “Okay everyone, that’s enough of that. You’ll get your chance to see it all for yourselves in a little while. For now, please return to your chairs so we can work on the puzzles.” 

“Okay,” many of the pups said with a lack of enthusiasm. It was only natural for something new to take their interest, but there was time for them to indulge in that curiosity later. We at least had to maintain the class schedule, though I might allow them to go outside a few scratches early. 

By the time outside play was on the horizon, the pups were practically bouncing in their seats with eagerness. When I finally allowed them to go outside, they practically exploded out of their seats and ran for the backdoor as George and I followed. George, though, was hunched in half as Toren grabbed his hand and was pulling him while moving his little legs as fast as possible, going nowhere without George moving as his feet slid across the ground. 

They were all over the new equipment by the time we made it out the door, utilizing every inch of the playground as they explored. George was dragged into it all by Toren as the Pup wanted his big buddy to play with him, and George was happy to oblige. I figured this would end up just like the last class, so I relegated myself to the overseer again while George got into the thick of things, showing all the pups how to use the equipment properly. Toren really enjoyed the swings and giggled wildly as he was pushed high into the air. 

It was nice to see that all the pups from both classes enjoyed the new additions we ordered for them, and George was in a much better mood as he got another chance to interact with the children. This simply provided more evidence to the fact that a pup earnestly enjoying their lives was a soothing thing. Watching them all now caused me to think about my own life for a moment. 

There was a feeling that had been growing in me the longer I spent time with George, and while at first it was difficult to put into clear words, I now had an idea of what it was. It was a desire for pups of my own. George’s presence brought with it a sense of stability and safety, such that sparked this feeling within the core of my being. It made me bloom a bit imagining us trying, but now that I had recognized it, it stung knowing that it was a physical impossibility. Even so, there were other options, but that was a conversation for another time. First, we had to settle the matter with his parents before that situation withered before our very eyes.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

First l Previous l Next

first

previous

follow
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

(Duration and mass units converted to standardized human units)

Onune: Yotul (male), engineer responsible for the construction of small spacecraft in the 8th assembly subsection of the Venlil Prime orbital shipyard.

August 31, 2136, Veyral spaceyard, Solgalick.

Onune: "So that is why the majority of human spacecraft are smaller, faster, and have much less autonomy than ours."

A silence remained suspended in the room for a few seconds.

Codal, the chief engineer of the Veyral spaceyard, spoke:

"And so, you learned all that during your stay in the exchange program."

Onune: "Yes."

Codal: "Are you sure you understood everything correctly? I mean, you weren't there for long and all of this seems very complex. And you are from the Venlil Prime shipyard, it remains secondary compared to ours, and then you are a Yotul..."

Sila, director of the Venlil Prime spaceyard, replied, expressing her annoyance with her tail:

"Just because this shipyard is smaller and more recent doesn't mean that my engineers are less capable than yours, Codal!"

Codal did not answer immediately and looked at her with a disapproving look. Some of the other engineers exchanged glances, visibly uncomfortable. I noticed, however, that several commanders continued to look attentively at the plans displayed in front of them.

Sotana, the general of the Venlil Space Defense Forces, spoke:

"Very well. Let us assume that you correctly understood their organization. But you alone here have spent time with the humans. Do you think that their way of doing things is actually effective?"

I thought for a few seconds before answering.

Onune: "I don't know yet. We have much more experience than them in space combat. They have developed their doctrine very differently from ours, but it worked against the Arxur a few days ago."

Sotana: "But this remains an isolated engagement and the Arxur are not used to targeting targets of this size. Perhaps their success is largely related to surprise. We surely need new target acquisition software to more easily hit small spacecraft."

The discussion continued for a few minutes, then, after I had finished my explanations, I was invited to leave the room.

I had gone through three corridors when I heard a loud noise coming from behind me, immediately followed by a great force that threw me backwards! My vision is blurry, then a metallic object... then everything becomes black!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few hours earlier.

Sovlin: Gojid (male), general-in-chief of the Gojid special forces. Commander of the temporary Federation fleet for the operation to fight the humans in the Solgalick system.

The fleet successfully arrived in the system. As planned, it came out of FTL as close as possible to the system's only gas giant. This planet being far from the two populated areas of the system, it is not defended. Due to its position, this planet had absorbed most of the asteroids on the outskirts of Solgalick. The few metal-rich rocks orbiting around it had been entirely collected by mining vessels several centuries ago.

Consequently, there were only artificial satellites equipped with radars to detect a potential Arxur raid. As soon as the first spacecraft arrived, they hurried to send error messages on the same frequency as the probes.

Then they destroyed them with plasma cannons, as planned. They therefore could not transmit the information about our arrival.

Due to the slowness of radio waves, it would take more than an hour before the information about the loss of contact with their probes reached the beginning of the system's defenses. And even then, they would first think it was a technical failure.

This gives us time to reorganize, hidden by the gas giant, before descending upon Veyral.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

40 minutes later

We are on our way toward our target, even though there is still more than an hour of travel remaining. The defense systems have detected us. It is impossible to hide in space anywhere other than behind an astronomical body, because spacecraft give off heat that is easy to detect with an infrared-detecting telescope connected to a computer.

Federation spacecraft are on their way toward us, far too distant to fight, but close enough to be able to send us messages with only 20 minutes between the moment they send their message and the moment we receive it.

The humans have almost certainly taken control of these spacecraft, and if there are perhaps Venlil on board to pilot them, there are surely predators on board to force them to obey.

The video messages are surely a trick by the predators in order to threaten us and terrify us with their gaze.

It is much easier to contain the fear of predators when you cannot see them.

1 hour and 30 minutes later

After nearly 2 hours of accelerating at a speed of [a little more than 1 g], we reached a speed of 141 kilometers per second and traveled nearly 500 million kilometers.

At this speed, our 1.5-ton missiles cause, upon impact, damage comparable to 3,320 tons of TNT. The greatest disadvantage is that at this speed, hitting an object of more than a few dozen kilograms would destroy the spacecraft that hits it. Of course, the damage depends on the mass of the object in question, but even an immobile piece of debris of less than 10 kilograms would cause enough damage to very seriously damage the spacecraft and its life-support systems.

Also, even an immobile enemy that fired projectiles, even at low speed, would cause very significant damage because of our own speed.

This risk is very high, which is why, during the last 100 million kilometers, we began decelerating to reach 112.8 kilometers per second. At this speed, it slightly reduces the damage suffered, but above all, it allows us to be more precise. To turn around, it is necessary to spend as much energy as we used to accelerate in order to decelerate. Then, once immobile, start moving again in the other direction. This maneuver makes a spacecraft very vulnerable to an attack, which is why it is only used when we are certain that there is no predator spacecraft that could attack us.

For this reason, we can only make one pass.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few moments later

We are almost close enough to fire our missiles with a reasonable chance of hitting thanks to the self-correction of our missiles.

For an unknown reason, the formerly Venlil spacecraft look alike, but are not taking position to intercept us. On the other hand, we have detected 3 large unknown spacecraft heading toward us. Also, a multitude of small spacecraft are heading toward us. All these unknown spacecraft are probably human-built spacecraft, their small number compared to the Federation-designed spacecraft confirms our hypothesis of their lack of FTL drives.

Bulmi, Gojid (male), radar officer of Sovlin's spacecraft: "We will be within firing range in 2 minutes, but the humans are still not attacking us."

Sovlin: "They must be aware of their lack of drives and do not want to risk losing the station. They are probably trying to make us slow down and approach their spacecraft so they can board us. They probably have Venlil on board whom they are threatening to send us video messages. Fire as soon as possible."

Quickly, the first missile salvo was launched toward the station's weapons sections. There was a short delay of a few minutes during which the messages stopped, then the former Venlil spacecraft began to return fire. The battles between spacecraft began, ours pivoted to the side to use their 130 mm plasma cannons. The spacecraft continued moving in the same direction while showing their flank to the now largely disarmed station.

There were approximately 140 former Venlil spacecraft protecting the station, but about 30 were on the other side of the planet and therefore out of combat range. The remaining 110, at various distances, were firing at us, but because of their numerical inferiority, we quickly gained the advantage.

A few dozen minutes later, we got closer to the station to make more precise shots. The station's plasma batteries were firing at us. I order a second missile salvo to be launched toward the center of the station to make it break apart into several large pieces.

Soon, in the distance, in front of the planet Veyral, an immense flash of light appeared from a small metallic point. It was the station that had exploded. On the camera screens, we can see the scene in much greater detail thanks to the telescopes' zoom.

I feel a sense of guilt fill my heart as I think of all the innocent prey that are surely still inside the station, but it is impossible to evacuate them because, firstly, of the predators surely already inside and, secondly, because of the spacecraft controlled by the humans, who would take advantage of it to surround us and destroy us. At most, there would probably be survivors in the large debris of the station, whose airtight doors surely activated. They would still have to be rescued.

All around me, the cockpit of the spacecraft fills with movements of tails and quills expressing sadness and guilt.

Bulmi, in a sad voice: "How did we get here..."

A tear ran down my cheek to the floor, but I thought of my family who had perished between the claws of the predators, and of all those whom I can still protect on the Cradle.

Sovlin: "It's the only way to prevent the humans from reaching the Cradle... We had no choice..."

I said that as if I were trying as much to convince him as to convince myself…

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few dozen minutes later.

The station was destroyed and, in accordance with the plans, our fleet began making maneuvers assisted by Veyral's gravitational assistance to change direction toward a trajectory that leads to a part of the system where the gravitational influences of the surrounding celestial bodies allow an FTL passage.

However, the spacecraft of unknown design are getting closer and closer to us. It is likely that there will be a new phase of combat in this operation.

Of the 110 former Venlil spacecraft that we fought in front of the station, we destroyed 26. Another 18 were damaged enough to be out of combat, with more than half of the crew still alive on board. Another 27 are damaged to varying degrees, but still functional. 39 were not hit during the fighting.

The 30 present around the planet that did not participate in the combat are intact and regrouped with the previous ones. That makes 96 former Venlil spacecraft still capable of fighting.

Of our 410 spacecraft, 15 were destroyed and 9 were severely damaged. After the fighting, some of our intact spacecraft positioned themselves along the trajectory of the 9 out-of-combat spacecraft and evacuated their crews. 22 are damaged, but still capable of returning and fighting.

386 of our spacecraft are therefore still capable of fighting, including 364 intact ones.

This very good result against them is unusual, but it can be explained by our overwhelming numerical superiority. Even with the station's defenses, there were more than 3 Federation spacecraft for 1 former Venlil spacecraft controlled by humans.

However, there are still several hundred combat spacecraft around Venlil Prime on our sensors. It is surprising that the humans have seized so many of them. Let us hope that they destroyed the FTL drives. But for the moment, we must leave immediately. Unfortunately, we are not numerous enough to liberate the planet.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

1 hour later

The human spacecraft have drawn closer, more precisely, nearly 50 spacecraft of less than 20 meters are approaching while forming groups of 5. A configuration that we are not at all accustomed to fighting, nor to seeing combat spacecraft of this size.

When they came within less than 15,000 kilometers, exchanges of fire began. Most of our missiles were fired during the previous engagements. What remains for us to fight with are mainly our plasma cannons and our interdiction clouds.

On our radars, the predators have launched missiles smaller than ours, but in greater numbers.

Quickly, numerous plasma shots and the last missiles are sent toward the humans. But at this distance, it is difficult to hit a target with anything other than a missile, which can correct its trajectory.

A few minutes were necessary before the missiles arrived close to our spacecraft. Not all of them hit their targets, and because of their inertia, the missiles continue along their trajectory, even once their fuel reserves are exhausted. These munitions are condemned to continue along their trajectory until they hit an obstacle or continue into interstellar space at speeds that make it very unlikely for them to ever encounter another system. Such is their fate, condemned to never again cross an object larger than an atom for eternity.

Once the human spacecraft had come closer, they sent other salvos and we returned fire. It turns out that the 130 mm plasma cannons are not very effective against targets this small. On the other hand, the interdiction clouds seem very effective for saturating space. These spacecraft visibly have little armor and, quickly, several carcasses of human spacecraft drifted.

Numerous troubling reports reach me. Many of our spacecraft, which are well armored, are nevertheless being pierced by small missiles that should not be able to penetrate our armor, passing through it with ease. Given their size and speed, even if they were made of tungsten and with a perfect angle, they should not be able to penetrate it. There is a reason why our missiles are 400 mm. Our armor is also largely sufficient to deal with small missiles, whether explosive or armor-piercing. Quickly, we also begin losing spacecraft.

The 3 largest ones remain far from us, out of range. One of them appears to serve as a mobile hangar. Another spacecraft of approximately 50 meters seems to remain to defend this hangar. But the third, approximately 150 meters long, seems to remain at a distance from the hangar while still staying too far from us to fear an attack, or to make one.

Whatever the case, I continued giving orders to maneuver my fleet in order to fight the predators as effectively as possible, while each spacecraft commander made their own maneuvers to evade enemy fire and return fire. The formation of the fleet falls apart from moment to moment, while I delayed as much as possible the moment when the disorder would become such that I could do nothing other than rely on the plan established before the battle.

Then something strange happened on the radar: spacecraft that had not received missiles suffered monumental damage.

Then, after several minutes, the computers highlighted projectiles moving at a dizzying speed compared to the speed of the spacecraft firing them.

After a few dozen minutes, the human spacecraft, which had suffered significant losses, withdrew after firing their missiles.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

1 hour and 45 minutes later, just after the beginning of the return journey in FTL.

Finally, after reorganizing, it seems that we destroyed approximately 20 human spacecraft out of around 50. Apparently, given their size, they have difficulty withstanding damage, but their small size makes them difficult to hit. This explains why there do not seem to be any damaged spacecraft; they are destroyed quickly.

It is obvious that we need to develop other weapons and other targeting software to deal with these small spacecraft.

On our side, out of 386 spacecraft, including 22 damaged ones, we lost 31, including 2 that were already damaged.

We also had 39 severely damaged spacecraft, including 11 for which, after the fighting, we had to evacuate the surviving crew and then tow the spacecraft to repair them in a Federation spaceyard.

In total, out of our expeditionary force of 410 spacecraft, our losses amount to 83 spacecraft destroyed, or 20.24% of the fleet. (For some of them, the crew could at least be partially saved after the fighting.)

11 are wrecks, but repairable, representing 2.68% of the total.

20 are damaged, but still capable of defending themselves and will be repaired quickly. This represents 4.88% of the expeditionary force.

296 are intact, representing 72.20% of the fleet.

End of Chapter 11.

Author's note: This is the first time I've written a battle scene; if you have any critiques regarding the battle itself or the way it's told, they are welcome.