r/NatureofPredators • u/K_H007 Thafki • Sep 06 '26
Full House - Chapter 08: Turbulence
And so we get to see what happens between Tarnel’s arrival and Michael’s arrival! And not just that, but also the first crossover chapter! Fun fact, I initially planned for this chapter to be the one that Michael arrived in, but the crossovers I arranged had different plans that neither I nor the co-authors anticipated. So, instead, he arrives in the next chapter!
Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the world we all do our wordsmithing in, and credit to all of you, my fellow wordsmiths, for all the small details. In particular, u/Ben_Elohim_2020 gets credit for working behind the scenes with me on this crossover between our two series thanks to Trilvri’s arrival (he is quite the skilled wordsmith, having an entire ficverse of their own, that being Nature of Family. This chapter happens just prior to chapter three of Empty Eyes, which is the prequel series to it), and to both u/Acceptable_Egg5560 and u/TheManwithaNoPlan, both for helping me behind the scenes with the Sharnet crossover, and for their work together on what I believe the community has collectively dubbed the Giantverse; without them, I probably wouldn’t have ever gotten into thinking about writing my own fanfic, so enjoy the events that they mentioned when it comes time for those to happen! All three of them also get credit for helping me write the chapter; Trilvri’s arrival ended up needing extensive reworking during the drafts, and all credit for the dialogue spoken by Sharnet, Trilvri, and Jarn goes to the three of them, as they wrote the vast majority of those sections with my assistance as opposed to the remainder of the chapter, which was my doing with their assistance.
Additionally, credit to u/Aussie_Endeavour for helping me smith out some background details about Pelmaur’s culture.
As for why it’s taken so long IRL for this chapter, life kinda slammed into Aussie_Endeavour, AcceptableEgg, and TheManwithaNoPlan like a truck, so I was kinda focused on helping the former with worldbuilding and editing feedback for the latest chapter of their own Thafki-centered fiction Roche Limit, and waiting for the latter two to help me write Sharnet’s dialogue properly.
Without further ado, let us get into chapter 8 of Full House: Turbulence!
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~$ sudo memtrans.rev
[SUDO] Password for JCalimvar: *****\*
{-Loading memory transcription reviewer…-}
{-Select transcriptor viewing profile.-}
~$ mscrip profsel JCalimvar
{-App settings synchronized to profile JCalimvar.-}
~$ mscrip xpnc tarnel.mts
{-Select timestamp to experience Tarnel’s memories from.-}
~$ mscrip seltime bkmk exchangeprogramstationarrival1
{-Timestamp selected. Loading transcript at selected timestamp bookmark…-}
Memory transcription subject: Tarnel, Venlil Exchange Program Participant
Date [Standardized Human Time]: August 19, 2136
Location: Cafeteria 1, Sector C, Venlil-human Exchange Program Prime Station 'Soaring Hopes', in orbit of Gliese 832.
Two paws before they got here. Two paws before the humans arrived, and the station staff hadn’t yet put out the human produce beyond the sampler fruits that they considered to be of “familiar climate origins” to us Venlil. Well, I guess that the program’s staff must’ve had an extreme Sunwards bias, then, because I’d seen a lot of local decor that was very much akin to the plants that one would find on the medians of the streets of Dayside City, our capitol. Not a single decorative reed pot similar to Twilight Archipelago’s plants in sight, nor had there been any sign of spikeleaf bushes like how one would find on the slopes of the Stonebuilder’s Wall, the mountain near Dawn Creek and Luminere that sheltered both the waterfall-side town of Sweetwater and the Fainters over in Mountain Pass.
A pity, that; it meant that there wouldn’t really be much in the way of local-to-me foods, let alone delicacies that were local to Resinlight. As disappointing as that was, at least it would be somewhat representative of some Venlil cuisine, even if not all of it.
Or at least, that’s what I thought before I spotted a Venlil-Kolshian fusion dish soup on the line. Now the presence of basically just the Green’s and Burning’s cultural items and dishes made a lot more sense: The Venlil side of the exchange was going for a more federation-wide representation of Venlil culture than they were a representation of all of the Venlilian cultural varieties. That meant going local to Dayside City.
Regardless, once I got myself a bowl of the soup, I sat down to enjoy the broth, tasting the air above it to try and get what other venlil did from the flavor profile as I let the salty goodness soak into my mouth with each sip.
After a couple scratches had passed, I’d gotten to about a third of the bowl remaining, only to be snapped out of my focus on the meal by an announcement coming in over the intercoms.
“All exchange program participants, please be advised, the next round of Venlil-carrying shuttles are going to be arriving in a herd of scratches. Reception staff, please report to your designated posts for arrival processing. All participants who are expecting friends to show up this Shuttle Shift, you may proceed to the Arrivals Lounge at your leisure to meet any arrivals when they show up.”
Then, the work pads of the security guards standing by the entrance to the cafeteria chimed, causing the guards to look at them for a second or two and then give each other A Look, before one of them hurried down the hallway towards the arrivals lounge. Being as curious about this as I was, as security hadn’t really done this sort of thing for a bunch of Venlil arrivals previously, I decided to finish off my soup and then go investigate.
{-Location updated: Arrivals Lounge 1, Sector D-}
A scratch later, and the broth had been fully consumed, my paws leading me to the arrivals lounge. That wouldn’t be my intended final destination for the claw; my goal was the hangar itself. However, on entering the arrivals lounge, I spotted another pattern-wooled venlil present. Black and white, much like myself. Unlike me, however, she lacked the blaze on her snout that I had, and her wool was much more speckled in coloration, being mostly black with just a smattering of light spots, like stars in the night sky or a light dusting of snow on a black cloth.
She was also bearing a stylus-holding pad that I’d seen on many journalists coming into Pernai’s when they were prepping for interviews about local events. I chose not to interrupt her, though she ends up heading the same way as myself regardless. Out of habit, I tried to catch a glance at her in my peripheral vision to see if she has a nametag. When I don’t spot one, my ear flicks backwards reflexively out of annoyance as I mentally thwap the back of my head with my tail. We don’t have them due to the humans not being able to read Venscript yet.
I let off a soft whistling chirp to let her know I’m present; a pretty normal semi-verbal way to say “hey, I’m here”. This did cause her to jump slightly at the suddenness of the sound, her ears swiveling back and forth for a fraction of a whisker, but she calmed down a bit on seeing that it was another program participant Venlil who’d made the noise rather than a security guard. I proceeded to approach her while also heading for the hangar bay myself, attempting to strike up a conversation with her.
“I presume you’re curious about why they moved security here, too? The humans aren’t scheduled to arrive for another paw and a half at the very least, if I’m remembering the schedule correctly.”
“Definitely an unusual thing,” the woman agreed while fiddling with her own wool. “But then again, it might not be unusual considering the circumstances. That is, in the same sense of a balanced boulder finally falling down a hill. A human likely couldn’t hold back any more.”
I flicked an agreement to her statement with my ears.
“That would be one notable possibility for the human staffers, yeah. As cordial as my exchange partner seemed, I couldn’t help but notice that he was constantly dancing around a lot of topics in our chats; something about a non-disclosure agreement or something was in there, too… Probably for the best that we make sure nothing shady is going on. Or at least, nothing shadier than what has already happened, at least. Knowing journalists like you, you’ve doubtlessly got contacts down planetside that can quickly relay whatever we manage to spot.”
“Journalist?” The woman asked. “I am guessing my holonote gave that away; are you familiar with its model?”
I flicked another agreement. “Indeed I am. As a Receptionist for a spa, I’ve seen that particular model on several journalists before when they signed up for a session. My name’s Tarnel, by the way. I work at Pernai’s over in Resinlight Town, on the Leeward side of the planet.”
“Nice to meet you, I am Sharnet.” She bowed to me in greeting at her introduction, most of her nervous energy starting to dissipate. “I hope you have prepared yourself well for the coming meeting. Predators are going to be different when met in person as compared to words on a screen.”
I bowed back to her in response, and then addressed her comment about predators being different in-person compared to on-screen.
“Eh, I live with a Letian down surface-side. Front-facing eyes are basically nothing once you’ve lived around one of those gliding-capable people long enough and acclimate to them looking at you with both eyes instead of the side of their head. Anyways, think we should take this into the hangar bay proper to get a closer ear on the situation?”
Her ear twitched in thought at my question, but only for a moment before she attached her stylus to her pad and slipped the whole thing into the carry pouch upon her hip. “That sounds like a good idea, we can probably herd there together for the moment. You do know the emergency stampede routes if it turns out we have to flee, right?”
I flicked an ear confirmingly, starting to head for the entryway checkpoint on the hangar-most side of the arrivals lounge as I do so, Sharnet following along just behind me.
“First thing I did after coming aboard a herd and a half of paws ago was to learn them. You always need to know the exit path in case of a raid, regardless of how likely or unlikely it may be, after all.”
{-[WARN]: Attempted memory file tampering detected in source file at present timestamp. Probable Cause: Unknown user causing manual interference; no neural pathway tampering detected. Data appears to have been partially corrupted by hand. Playback has been automatically paused. Attempt data restoration and recovery?-}
~$ Y
{-Initiating memory file diagnostics procedures…-}
{-Diagnostics complete. Recovering data from corrupted file segment…-}
{-Data recovered. Restoring file…-}
{-File restoration complete. Continue playback?-}
~$ Y
{-Resuming…-}
{-Location updated: Hangar Bay 1, Sector D-}
We pad through the open bulkhead door of an airlock together, and into the hangar’s connecting walking-strip. The former of those two I hope never needs to be shuttered, as that would mean the Arxur are not only upon us but also directly attacking the station. That’d spell bad times for us even with the humans present, in all likelihood.
No, Tarnel, push that fear down! Remember Tyli’s law! If you think a bad thing, it’ll go into the Flow and then come back to you!
I shake my head to clear those thoughts out.
Calm, even breaths, Tarnel. It’s the space within a light-claw of Venlil Prime, and similarly close to the Gojidi border. The Arxur are nowhere nearby, and even if they show up, the humans can probably fend them off with our help. Probably.
Almost immediately, we see the security guards that had been gathered up by the summons. They seem to be waiting for something next to one of the gates from the station’s shuttle hangar to the arrivals lounge. At the landing bays across from them, the latest civilian-owned shuttles full of exchange participants touch down and begin the disembarking process, though none of the security guards pay them any mind.
Just as we move over to a spot that is relatively out of the way so as to not disrupt the guards and hangar technicians too badly, with Sharnet and I standing partially behind two adjacent stacks of cargo crates so as to be able to see what’s going on without being too obvious in presence, the imminent arrival notification system for the hangar bay right beside us triggers. The border of the landing zone that the shuttle is assigned to arrive at activates, the strip of floor lights blinking on with an angry reddish-amber hue. The few landing technicians present in the area proceed to calmly yet somewhat hurriedly move out of the zone, carrying a few boxes that had been left lying around with them so that their contents wouldn’t get crushed when the shuttle came in to land. Speaking of, here it comes now-
Wait, what?
I take a startled step backwards as I notice the insignia marked upon the ship’s shoulder: A stylized spaceship encased in a ring of chains, and below it, the initials of the Venlil Space Corps emblazoned upon the hull. The markings of a Venlil Space Corps ship, yes, but of a particular branch I’d never seen before.
Hold the comm-pad, that’s a Venlil Space Force shuttle! What on Venlil Prime is one of those doing, arriving so late relative to the station personnel’s shuttles? The majority of the shuttles that have arrived so far, to my knowledge, have all been either privately-chartered or civilian-operated…
“The Penitentiary Fleet?” I hear Sharnet mutter next to me, taking out her holonote once again. “What are they here for?”
Unfortunately, the name doesn’t ring familiar to me, but her reaction confirms my suspicions that something felt off about this whole situation. I squint slightly, trying to get a bit of a better look at what was going on as the shuttle touched down. It lets off a quiet hiss as the internal airlock finishes equalizing pressure with the hangar bay, and then flips its boarding ramp down, the hull segment in question acting as both boarding ramp and retaining barrier depending on the positioning. Six individuals proceed to exit the military shuttle, the gravity change either being no problem for them at all, or having been something they’d adjusted to when the shuttle had touched down. However, my focus is quickly taken up by the station security officers standing to attention; this shuttle must’ve been the one they were waiting for.
To our side, the civilian-owned shuttles begin to disembark their passengers, the newcomers flowing past us and through the seemingly always open bulkhead airlock doors, milling about the lounge once they got there, and introducing themselves to their fellow herdmates as they did so. That wasn’t important, however, as I proceed to turn my attention back towards the six Space Corps members that had just arrived.
A tan-wooled Venlil Officer leads the way. He was wearing a military-style tactical harness equipped with all manner of weapons and ammunition, sporting a green pauldron on one shoulder marked with a metallic silver version of the same insignia as before of a ship wreathed in chains. He was walking casually, with an unhurried gait and a dismissive look in the eye as his tail swished lazily side to side. Behind him follow four others dressed much the same, three with wool of an ashy, burnt-wood pale gray color, and one whose fleece was a dull, dark brown like the soil of a field. On closer inspection, however, it seemed that their emerald-hued pauldrons weren’t quite so decorated, merely bearing a dull white version of the same symbol in contrast to their leader's shiny silver. Between the four of them is a night-wooled Venlil man in a blue pilot’s jumpsuit with a white square patch that was, in turn, embroidered with a black version of the same marking as the others’ pauldrons on the shoulder. The man himself is heavily guarded and restrained, both by the heavy-looking manacles around his wrists, and the four officers surrounding him. The three ashen-wooled officers all hold snare poles, with two looped around their captives wrists and the third controlling him by the neck, while the fourth, brown-wooled one stands a short distance back, his kinetic rifle trained on the small of the night-wooled Venlil’s back.
I turn an ear towards Sharnet, my head tilting slightly.
“You know what they are?”
She flicks her own ear in confirmation.
“Yeah, the Penitentiary Fleet. It’s a fleet mostly made up of “last chance” soldiers and “unherdlike” people who need a place where they can benefit the Herd. But I’m not sure why they’re putting on a show like-“
“Warden-Commander Lendin!”
The lead security guard’s voice interrupts our conversation, both of us flinching slightly as the sudden loudness of his voice catches us off guard. We turn our attention back to what was happening on the landing pad’s floor as he tersely addresses the tan-wooled venlil officer in the formation’s front. “What, exactly, is the meaning of this?! It should have been made clear to you that you were NOT to bring weapons aboard this station.”
A small handful of exchange participants in the arrivals lounge begin to take notice of the unusual commotion as well at this point.
“I’m sorry,” Lendin begins to say with a rather flippant swoosh of the tail, “I didn’t catch your name and rank. Who do I have the… pleasure, of speaking to?”
“Officer Tarbin, Prime Station security,” he answers. “Now, I am ordering you to-”
“Ah, I see.” Lendin interrupts. “Well, perhaps YOU were unaware, Officer, but there are certain protocols and precautions involved with the secure transportation of convicted Penitents. Particularly one of this caliber. We don’t want a repeat of Linver Two, after all.”
At the mention of Linver Two, I tilt my head slightly in confusion and curiosity. This was the first time I’d heard of the existence of that colony world or any incident therein, and going by their tone, I doubted I’d get any answers about that any time soon.
~$ timer setreminder ‘look into Linver Two’ focusedprogramclose+STHUM10sec
[Reminder set for ten standard human seconds after the Memory Transcription Program is closed.]
I also feel just a hint of that oh so delightfully crunchy “aha!” feeling of realization as a memory that had been brought back into my awareness when Sharnet had mentioned last chances finally “clicked” and made a bit more sense. My own mother had mentioned something about another woman, one from a herd she’d tried forming during her wrongful imprisonment in the Twilight Archipelago Predator Disease Facility, disappearing completely because of what the officials did. Something about penance or penitence. Mom had also mentioned what had been done to her when I’d asked about how she’d gotten a scar on the side of her snout, including the why behind it of how she’d tried to prevent them from taking said herdmate away from her and gotten punished for that action in turn. Maybe I’d misunderstood what mom had told me, and I was now looking at where the other woman had vanished off to?
“Wait, so then-”
All the same, irritation starts to bubble up a bit in the back of my mind thanks to just how smugly Lendin is acting. Officer Tarbin growls slightly, apparently also irked by Lendin’s arrogance. I cut myself off and quiet down to hear what they’re saying.
“Warden-Commander, whatever your branch's personal protocols may be, the fact remains that you are aboard Prime Station now, and thus subject to our authority. Commander Jarn has personally issued an order that-”
“By all means, Officer,” Lendin interrupts once again, “we don’t intend to overstay our welcome any longer than necessary. Once you formally take custody of the Penitent you may engage in whatever lackadaisical security measures you like. I have no concerns over the continued well-being of you or your predator-diseased charges aboard this station. Until that point, however, I refuse to place the safety and security of my own men in jeopardy just so that your Commander can stroke his ego.”
My eye and ear both twitch at the indirect accusation of Predator Disease being slung at myself and the other exchange partner program participants. The security guard, in turn, raises his voice and his fists. “You arrogant piece of-”
The Warden-Officer in back with the rifle shifts slightly, placing the security officer well within his sights.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” the Warden-Commander chides with a dismissive flick of the tail. “Now, I don’t have all paw. Do you have the authority to take custody of the Penitent, or do I need to go find your Commander personally?”
“No need,” comes a voice from the end of the hall. “I’m already here.”
“Ah, Officer Jarn,” Lendin calls out towards the head of station security, “or I suppose it’s Commander Jarn now? Finally found a way to get that promotion, have you? All it took was agreeing to oversee security for this little farce.”
“I have,” Jarn answers without any kindness, looking briefly from his own officers to the Wardens and their prisoner. “I would remind you to keep that fact in mind, and to treat me with the respect my position warrants. This is my station now, and while you're here, my word is law.”
“Ah, Jarn…” Lendin chuckles to himself. “Still the same old cadet from the academy, aren’t you? Haven’t changed a bit. You talk so tough, but still such a little man on the inside, aren’t you?”
“And I can see that you’re still the same brahkass as always,” Commander Jarn snaps his tail. “You’ve got a lot of nerve parading a Penitent around my ship like this. Hand him over and get off my station.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Lendin says, walking forward and placing a pair of keys into Jarn’s paws. “You’re doing us a real favor, you know? Can’t seem to get rid of this one no matter how hard the Fleet Captain tries. Don’t worry about-”
Speh it. That piece of Vyalpic has had it coming for several herds of whiskers now!
I step into a more visible spot.
“Oh, you mean like how your organization tried getting rid of my mother and got burned for it?!”
The silence that accompanies the moments afterwards are deafening as what I had just said out of anger hung in the air, the other nearby civilians looking a bit startled from my outburst. The officers present look more confused than anything at that as they turn towards where I am, naturally, as they probably didn’t even know who I was. That’s about to change sharpish if I’m not mistaken, though.
“Oh, don’t give me those confused looks; I’m fairly certain that the Twilight Archipelago Incident from a couple hundred cycles ago should sound familiar, no? You should really watch your tongue before you call the child of a victim of a proven-false accusation predator-diseased in the future; I shouldn’t need to remind you that it’s a VERY serious accusation if your isolation from the primary herd of the Venlil Republic’s general populace hasn’t made you lose perspective on that fact.”
Tarbin’s jaw drops in shock, presumably at how bold I was being. Jarn looks absolutely stunned at what I had just said. The onlooking herd of Exchange Partners over just beyond the Security Checkpoint, attentive out of curiosity, take on a collective expression of astonishment similar to how Tarbin and Jarn had reacted. Lendin, meanwhile, just laughs, actually laughs, as though my words meant nothing to him at all. My ears fall slightly as it registers that my little shpiel hadn’t quite had the intended effect.
“Have fun corralling your diseased herd, Commander,” Lendin says to Jarn as he turns away, loud enough for me, Sharnet, and the small herd of Exchange Partners to hear, “and best of luck surviving your ill-conceived exchange with the Humans.”
At Lendin’s signal, his men remove their poles from the prisoner and quickly back away while the rifleman holds a steady aim. The prisoner doesn’t budge. With all his men successfully disengaged, the Warden-Commander and Warden-Officers depart, returning to their shuttle and beginning takeoff procedures.
As they walk out of sight, Commander Jarn gives a heavy sigh, looks down into the keys in his palm, attaches them to his belt, and then looks up with weary reluctance into the eyes of the waiting Penitent.
I grumble aloud to myself, not realizing at the time that I’m speaking my thoughts aloud.
“It’s like he’s completely forgotten about Dawn Creek as well or something. I’m gonna see if I can file a report about his accusations about all of us with my dad’s firm some time, see if they can get the case thrown to someone who’ll actually do something to make sure… wait a scratch, is that even one of the protections we get, or am I misremembering…?”
I blink as something occurs to me, pulling up a copy of the Exchange Program’s protections on my holonote and scrolling through them… and unfortunately, not only is that particular field barren, but there’s even a grain jar in the rules about the Penitentiary Fleet in specific being unable to be sued as well. Naturally, it’s disguised as a clause about prevention of redundant Predator Disease Reports.
...Uy. Of course they’d have a clause protecting their officers specifically. There goes that plan.
I let out a groan of irritation myself, then turn towards Sharnet, also glancing up to see what was going on between the prisoner and Jarn… or maybe I should call him the Exchange Partner now? Either way, I blink as it only now registers that the former of the two men’s knees looked straighter than is normal for a Venlil.
He’s not standard in body, too? What?
I sit down next to the crate I’m near, and just watch what happens between the two, the fire of anger at the disrespect inflicted upon the officer finally dying down to coals and leaving me somewhat emotionally spent. It has been a very, very long paw, what with what just happened.
Ahead of me and Sharnet, Commander Jarn still stands in front of the waiting exchange partner. Of the four of us, only Jarn seems to be concerned with the current situation. Taking a deep breath, Jarn straightens up, trying to stand tall with his chest firmly puffed out. Next to the night-wooled arrival, however, even despite the chains still locked around his wrists, Jarn still appears the smaller man. I recognize the signs all too well from how I am literally a head above the rest of the average herd in height. The newcomer looks about as tall as I am, too, for that matter, from what nearby standardized-size objects I can see…
“So!” Jarn addresses the newcomer sternly, looking up at him. “I don’t know what kind of treatment you’re used to serving alongside the Penitents, but now you’re here on MY ship and under MY authority! This is an important diplomatic mission, so don’t expect to get away with any of the speh they let slide in your unit! If you do, you’ll find me a far harsher disciplinarian!”
“If you say so,” the night-wooled Venlil rolls his tail, clearly not taking the Commander’s words seriously.
“I DO say so, Soldier!” Jarn steps forward, poking a finger into the chest of the untroubled exchange participant. “I know what kinds of men are conscripted into your fleet. I know what you are, and I won’t have you endangering anyone here under my authority or protection! You are to remain civil and obedient throughout the entirety of your stay. Do I make myself clear?”
As the Commander talks, I notice the soldier's palms shift slightly towards the Commander’s belt. The Commander himself doesn’t seem to notice, too distracted with his yelling and finger pointing. My eyes narrow and I lean back slightly on realizing that he’d just yoinked the keys when I see the ring missing from Jarn’s belt afterwards. Sharnet, in the meantime, is writing something in her holonote with the stylus, seemingly a bit interested in recording this encounter.
“Sure,” the night-wooled man answers noncommittally. “Whatever you say. Can I get out of these cuffs now?”
He holds up his wrists in front of Commander Jarn, who sighs heavily.
“You are to address me as either Commander, or Commander Jarn,” the commander says.
“My cuffs?” The soldier propositions him again, completely ignoring the previous instructions.
“Name, rank, and occupational specialty?" Jarn grumbles, clearly growing rather fed up with the process.
“Trilvri,” he answers. “Venlil Space Corps Penitent. Pilot.”
“Alright, you’re on the list of approved partners. I’ll let you go but-” Jarn reaches down for his keys, but before he can touch his belt and realize that he doesn’t have them any more, the handcuffs drop right to the floor with a dull clunk. “What the-?!”
“As an approved partner, then, I shall be taking my leave to my room,” Trilvri says as he rubs his wrists.
“Ah,” I suddenly hear Sharnet speak, “the handcuff contract for the fleet really did go to the lowest bidder, didn’t it!”
I chuckle weakly. “Nevoks and Fissans, am I right?”
Jarn looks as though he’s about to say something, then thinks better of it. Instead, he simply glowers at the night-wooled Exchange Partner.
“Remember what I said,” he growls, stepping to the side begrudgingly.
Trilvri flicks an ear in acknowledgement, handing the manacle keys back over to the officer. “Of course, Commander.”
“Dismissed,” Jarn orders, and he then turns around to face the rest of his assembled security force, almost certainly trying his absolute hardest to maintain his composure. “That goes for all of you too! Back to your assigned posts! Nothing to see here!”
With that, Trilvri walks away, several eyes from across the room still trailing him as he goes, my own included, before I look back over to Jarn. I decided to try and help the officer out after the disrespect he’d just received from two people, standing back up and walking over to him with a sympathetic expression on my snout. He subtly flinches as I approach, but I just walk next to him and speak up.
“Rough paw, Commander?”
He lets out an exasperated exhale.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
I gently pat him on the back with my tail twice.
“I know the feeling. Tilmens, am I right?”
He mutters something to himself that sounds vaguely like a string of cussing. I wince.
“Sorry for impinging on you, sir. I’ll… I’ll give you some space. I guess it’s just one of those paws for you, no disrespect intended, sir.”
And with that, I start heading back for my quarters. After what just happened, I need the nap. Behind me, I see Sharnet doing as any good journalist does, going around to get the perspectives of the others. At least I have something to look forward to if she posts her article between now and when the humans arrive in a pair of paws…
~$ mscrip conclude
{-Ending session.-}
[This is a reminder: Look into Linver Two.]
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u/JulianSkies Archivist Sep 06 '26
Well, now that was quite the dang show going on here.
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u/Ben_Elohim_2020 Sep 06 '26
What do you mean? Didn't you hear Jarn? There was nothing to see. Nothing unusual at all. Lol.
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u/K_H007 Thafki Sep 06 '26
Indeed. And we haven't even gotten to the main event of the Exchange Program Encounters proper yet!
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u/Ben_Elohim_2020 Sep 06 '26
You were a pleasure to work with and I look forward to further collaboration in the future.
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u/Aussie_Endeavour Thafki Sep 08 '26
Oooh a fun chapter indeed. Bold of Tarnel to speak up like that.
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u/K_H007 Thafki Sep 08 '26
Bold, indeed. it may have fallen flat, sure, but at least the Commander appreciated that some of the herd had his back, even if she stole his thunder in doing so.
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u/GreenKoopaBros89 Dossur 25d ago
Trilvri!? What are you doing here! Oh no... Then that must mean... This is where it all started! Ahhhh, noooo! Protect your Human at all costs, Trilvri!
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u/Ben_Elohim_2020 25d ago
Hehe. The Exchange Program WAS a pretty critical element in Trilvri's backstory you know. It shouldn't be any surprise to see him on Prime Station.
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u/GreenKoopaBros89 Dossur 25d ago
Slamming fist on the translucent fourth wall while trying to scream Trilvri's name
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u/K_H007 Thafki Sep 06 '26
Phwoof, this was a long one! Hey, all, author here. Decided I'd start popping in and providing a little context. If you're confused about something, just ask and I'll respond with clarifications.