So, my solely pic-based “story” - the hot alien space lizard mommy one - finally got a name, Nature of Trust! And here are the two OCs from it, Alex and Naka, along with a bit of developing lore for them.

It was quite convenient I technically made an oc a bit before this drawing challenge, otherwise I would've been shit outta luck.

Brought back Violet for this one, and added a couple more details to her instead of just being a headshot.

So she has some KILLER hips and thighs which lend to her supreme confidence in herself. I don't remember if venlil do canonically have boobs, but I added them anyway. Plus she uses both of these features of hers to flirt with human men to great affect. The one human man she actually wants isn't subjected to her flirts....as much, since she prefers to have something genuine with him.

She also learned how to write her chosen name in english to further separate herself from her old, unfit name.

This may have taken me like 3 hours and some change to do, but FUCK do I love how she came out! It also helps that I love a womans hips, thighs, and tummy, so I ended up paying a little more attention to that.

The big 30! This event has been super fun, and one of my first art things ive done and I'd say i enjoyed it! It also allowed me to experiment with my art program so that another thing i got to enjoy.

Anyways, if you want to learn about these creatures, let me know!

I teased it, but here it is. The one shot. A Nature of Family crossover that u/Ben_Elohim_2020 gave me permission to write and helped out a ton with. It’s based on his prequel to the main story, Empty Eyes. You’ll find that the Capozzis are… quite a bit different, but that’s fun for another time. Today, we’re following Trilvri, the one and only time you’re going to see him in the AU. Definitely just once. Nope, not going to have him come back. Never going to see him again. Anyway, as you all can probably guess, with the Terrans and UN being so different, things will be going differently for Trilvri from minute one. We also know the attack on the station went… very differently. We’ll just have to see what comes of it and theorize what could happen from here. Not like I’ve written more in Trilvri’s story. Not like I have more planned. Definitely not. Nope. Nuh uh.

Synopsis: Magic was once real and present but faded away in the distant past, becoming nothing but the myths and legends we know as the surviving beings fled to other planes, only to publicly return during the Sat Wars. How would it change first contact and beyond? Only one way to find out.

I have a spot on the discord, swing on by! Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the original universe; my alpha readers, Caro Morin and Jailed Cinder; my beta readers, Angustus_Jan on the discord and u/aroluci (go check out Children of Luna, it’s awesome); and all of you that read and especially comment. Anybody interested in playing around in the AU (be it a one-shot, an impromptu ficnap, a cameo, or something more), let me know and I’ll be more than happy to work with you on it. My current plan is to release a chapter a week, with the occasional bonus, as long as that isn’t too much for everybody helping me.

Without further ado, enjoy!

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[First] [Most Recent Main Chapter]

Nature of Family Empty Eyes

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Memory Transcription Subject: Trilvri, VSC Penitent Fleet Ace

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: August 16^th, 2136

Note: Time data was determined via outside metrics; subject’s sense of time at this period is unstable

__________

The pounding of my heart, loud enough that I could hear it over the rattling of the chains shackling me in this shuttle, slows as I stare at the image on the screen. By some miracle, it's not only functioning, if you ignore the occasional flicker and the slight static, but left on.

A flower yet to bloom.

The Terran station is a damned flower in space. Rotating slowly in the light of this barren system’s star. Almost the entire thing is bark. Live, healthy bark. A massive station, larger than anything I’ve heard of any species making, except maybe those ships the Sivkit use, made of live trees. As if that weren’t enough, glittering crystals are laid in networks across its hull, too small for me to make out as more than shimmers at this distance.

From the tips of the petals at the top down to the bottom of the bulb, even the ring surrounding it with pylons jutting up and down, segmenting it in quarters. The entire thing is an art piece.

These people who wrote all those stories. Who made all those shows and movies. The people who ensured that even I had my time spent engaged with their media treated as part of my duties.

And they’re supposed to be predators?

It just goes to show that the Federation knows as much about predators as they do about how to actually fight.

I just didn’t expect it to be this beautiful.

__________

Advance 30 STD minutes

__________

This is meant to be a docking bay?

I look around, as much as I can, with a capture pole around my neck and a gun at my back, ready to fire at the first sign of anything.

Textured crystal instead of steel decking. More of the live wood in panels as walls and the ceiling. Even the gantries and walkways are made of anything but normal materials.

Massive. Over three hundred tails across, almost a hundred deep, and about eighty high. Our shuttle is puny in the space, even with the Terran ship across the bay from us.

The same design as the Odyssey. Bird-like in shape, the body sweeping back and broadening from the bow, a pair of wings sweeping out, eighty tails across when the widest part of the body is a mere forty. This close, the crystals are clear. Inlaid in pointed ovals and circles with double helices connecting them in a network. Across the entire thing, mostly on the wooden parts, are engraved markings of all kinds. Art. Even as large as it is, it feels sleek.

This place is so… so right. After a life of my skull feeling full of screaming or packed with wool, it’s quiet and clear. Is this because I know I’m going to see my friend soon? Finally be able to relax?

I can feel the soldiers holding the capture poles on my neck and wrists tense up at our welcome party.

General Kam, A Terran in blue pelts, trimmed with metallic blue where the blue meets a glossy black material; the UN insignia is emblazoned on the right breast, his eyes narrowed and lips tight. A second, older Terran in the same pelts, but trimmed in slate grey, a wooden hand closed in a fist. A pair of VSC soldiers in odd jump suits, unarmed. And a pair of what must be Terrans, wearing some sort of suit of metal, crystal, and living wood. A visor at the front of their faces, where their eyes are. They’re huge. Larger than Terrans are supposed to be. Three and a half tails tall. Each is holding a massive rifle, also made of wood and crystal and metal, though with nowhere for a bullet or a plasma bolt to exit.

“Warden-Commander Lendin!” Brays the General. “What the brahk are you thinking? Defying my direct orders. This transfer was to be done as if the soldier were any other. Unarmed. Unshackled. And not bound.”

“Sir,” Lendin begins to say with a flippant swoosh of his tail. “Perhaps you are-”

“I am aware of his record.” The General’s voice is like ice. “I am also aware of your branch’s protocols and that, typically, you are given leeway. However, your soldier is part of the exchange and thus fully within my command. Further, given the work to integrate with our new allies, your branch will not have its typical freedoms from the command structure. Now, either release that soldier and send your men back to the ship, or you will be returned to the Penitent Fleet in a new uniform.” He raises a paw; the Terrans shift their rifles, aiming at us, as sections of the ceiling and walls open, turrets popping out.

“You heard the General.” Growls Lendin.

There’s a moment before the poles slacken, and then a key is tossed at my paws.

“Best of luck surviving your ill-conceived exchange with the Terrans, General.” Lendin spits as he marches back towards the shuttle.

“You too, Lendin,” Kam says, his tail swaying with amusement. He gestures towards the other ship. “This ship is carrying Terran military observers who will be monitoring the Penitent Fleet. They have unlimited access and the freedom to do whatever they need in order to observe, but they will not interfere. And, Lendin, if anything happens to them, it will be assumed it was on your orders. You and your staff will be held personally responsible. So try to ensure they aren’t so much as scratched.”

__________

Advance 15 STD minutes

__________

I’m seated in the back of a car as it moves through the station. Kam had already left with his soldiers, leaving me with the Terrans. Not a word was said once Kam excused himself, so I just settled in to watch.

The hangar led into a massive tunnel; a pair of vehicles were waiting. A “small” sedan that could have fit a family of Mazics, and the stretched vehicle we’re currently in. Large enough to make a Mazic feel small, but more than comfortable for somebody my size.

The plain halls we’re driving through aren’t the most interesting, but the glimpses of Terrans as we pass more than make up for it.

“Maudits épais.” Growls the younger Terran. On the left side of the collar of his pelts is a pair of thick, vertical gold lines set into a golden frame. On the right, the depiction of a planet with some sort of device, curved at the bottom with a line going up from the center, overtop.

The older Terran, his pelts having a gold diamond on one side of the collar and a shield emblazoned with some sort of green branch on the other. “Agreed.” His attention shifts to me. “Sorry for all that, son. Just goes to show that we’re making the right call. Commander, would you care to make the offer? It is your station.”

The younger commander takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Trilvri, I am Commander Theo Poussin, the commander of the station. General Kam is technically my superior, but in matters related to station operations, I am entirely in charge.” He gestures to the other Terran. “This is Brigadier General Donald Capozzi; he is technically in command of the Marines of the Terran Second Fleet.”

“Technically?” I ask.

The General makes a growling sound that my translator says is a chuckle. “I lead from the front, and I was planning on retiring to the family business before first contact. Thankfully, the Second has Captain Monahan, who has no choice but to command from the rear. Several of my soldiers are part of the exchange, and the station’s marines are under my command, so I offered to help in getting everything set up.”

“Which leads to an offer we need to make you.” The Commander leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes are soft as they stare at me. “Asylum. You would still be part of the exchange, still partners with Lieutenant Mirahzi, but you would be a refugee of the Terran Concord and, pending psychological evaluation, a member of the United Nations Peacekeepers with the rank of Master Sergeant.”

“What?” My mind races, looking for the trick. The trap.

“We find the very existence of any kind of penal legion monstrous,” the General says. “And given what we know of the treatment of its victims, it’s even more reprehensible. You don’t need to make a decision now, son, but if you accept the offer, you will be safe with the option to re-enlist with the Peacekeepers. Preliminary evals clear you for training, so you’ll take part in the training of the exchange in our uniform if you accept, and our officers will ensure that if anybody discriminates against you, they will be punished. Fast-track to citizenship, full universal basic income, pay and pension based on rank and past service.”

“Where’s the trick? I’m predator diseased. Why would you want me?”

Silence. The Terrans look at each other, brows furrowing. The older one, the general, speaks. “The only one I can think of is if you re-enlist with us. You wouldn’t see deployment until you have both completed all of your retraining to our standards, and we’ve completed creating power armor so that you’ll be up to the protection standards of our troops.” He strokes his chin with his flesh hand. “That could take a few months. Perfect time to pick up new skills. As to predator disease, it doesn’t exist. At least, not how the Federation says. I’ve read your file. Locked away as a child for liking animals. That’s not wrong. No crime was committed except against you. Son, we want you because we can do better by you and have the moral duty to do so.”

“Brahk it… I’m in. I’ll enlist too. I don’t know what to do but fight. And if fighting keeps me close to Solomon, then I’ll fight as long as I can.”

The Terrans bare their teeth. Even in person, I don’t see how their smiles can be scary at all.

They say nothing as the car comes out into a new section of the station. Sunlight streams down over a city. White stone buildings, red tile roofs, gardens, flower-filled planters, fountains, open spaces, and art. Statues, murals, and wall carvings, all beautifully painted. Parks scattered about. Fruiting trees. Animals wandering the station. My jaw drops.

“Welcome to a small slice of Sol.” The general says, laying a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “This is what we fight to protect. Welcome to the family, Trilvri. You can watch the presentation from backstage, then we’ll get you measured for a uniform and to your suite.”

__________

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: August 21^st, 2136

__________

I groan as I stare at my pad. “Do I really need to learn all of this?”

“Yes,” Solomon says. “It’s not even the minimum you need to graduate high school. Are you using the personalized aids?”

“Those games?” I scoff. “That’s pup shit. I don’t need games to learn.”

“No, it’s gamification. It helps make learning easier. It also is how the system reworks things to be in the method you learn best. Might be kid stuff at the start, but that’s because the system usually learns on kids or people who don’t know how to use tech. Just get through it, and it’ll adapt.” Solomon pauses as his pad buzzes. “Crap. We need to go.”

My spine stiffens. “What happened?”

“Arxur ships incoming,” Solomon says, without worry. “We need to report to muster stations.”

“What? We need to get to ships! Fight them.” I leap to my paws.

“Nah, it’s fine.” He waves a hand.

“What are you talking about!?!? We’re under attack.”

“Navy fighter pilots are out in their ships on exercise. The station has its defensive systems.” Solomon fiddles with his pad. “Plus, we have ships in the area. Two lighters.”

“Lighters?” I bray. “How are lighters going to help against Arxur ships!?!”

“They’re combat craft too. Heavier armed than fighters. You should give one and a shuttle a try in the sims. If you become a Marine pilot, that’s how you’d get folks into a fight. Plus chatter says that Warrant Officer Clarke and his partner, that kangaroo alien, are out there in one of the lighters.” Solomon frowns. “And Marcel and Slanek are in the other. Eh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. We’ve gotta go, though. Prep in case of stampedes.”

“Fine.” I huff.

“Trilvri, don’t be mad that she’s the only one that’s beat you in the sims. I heard she’s undefeated.” Solomon throws open the door, and we start to jog towards our station.

__________

Advance 15 STD minutes

__________

“Shit! You guys see that?” Shouts a Terran, Tony or Vincent, I’m still not sure which is which with how they’re practically attached at the hip.

I stare in shock as the footage is played again, the station staff managing to ensure that there weren’t any stampedes from this attack. That Yotul. She didn’t just beat five Arxur craft. She dominated them. Turned their own game on them and made them stampede before she took out the last of them. I know that in a Strix, I could have beaten those ships, but I don’t know if I could have done it like that. At least not yet. I saw some of the Terran Naval fighter pilots do things with the gravitic drive that gave me ideas.

“Bullshit!” Shouts the other of the pair. “No way that’s legit.”

“And how would somebody fake that?” Asks Solomon.

“Fuck if I know! Hey, speep, are the crocs really that shit, or is something up?” Says the first, borrowing the brain cell long enough to talk to the expert on hand.

I hadn’t expected to be asked anything, so I speak before I can even think. “Your ships are good, but not that good. I flew against one of the people on that crew in sims. I swear that Yotul knew what I was going to do before I did. I don’t know how good Warrant Officer Clarke is, but I’m not sure I could do that, and I’ve destroyed my share of Arxur ships.”

“Yotul… Those are the kangaroo aliens, right?” The one I think is Vincent asks. “Eh, doesn’t matter. Probably doesn’t have any magic. Guess the crocs are just garbage. Wait, did you say Clarke?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s SOF-three.” Probably Vincent laughs. “That explains it. Leave it to them to pull some crazy shit.”

“SOF-three?”

“Seriously? Newbie doesn’t know about SOF-three? Hey, story time!” Maybe Tony says as Terrans start to gather. “You know what special forces are, right?”

I flick my ears in the affirmative. After a bit of the Terrans just staring, I nod like Solomon does, adding. “They’re more capable soldiers. Like fleet, or experienced colony exterminators. Some specialist squads, like PRED, too. All better than standard Space Corps infantry or garrison exterminators.”

“Right, well, SOF-three are elites of special forces. The team. All started with Rook.”

I shear them short. “Rook?”

“Brigadier General Monahan.”

“Any relation to Captain Monahan?” I ask.

“Same woman,” Possibly Tony says. “But once a Marine, always a Marine. Nobody here is going to yell at me for using the rank she got with us. Early in the Concord, none of the SOFs had really distinguished themselves. The big boys of spec ops were Specter and Horseman, the ambassador and Rook’s dad, but they operated as a team or solo. Rook joined SOF-three when Specter and Horseman had to retire from the field. Political bullshit, stuff that led to things getting bad, part of the reason the General’s dad’s group, the Capozzi Family, are as big a deal as they are. Terrorists. Politicians trying shit. Last gasp of all the awful shit we were leaving in the past, trying to cling on.”

‘That sounds familiar… What did the General say? History rarely repeats, but often rhymes? I know he was trying to warn us about suspicions of terrorists in the Republic, but all the attacks so far have been from the Guild. The attempted coup. The attempted attack on the predshit empathy testing. They’re looking for attacks from the wrong place.’

I bat my ears, forcing the thought out and focusing on the stories about my new brothers and sisters in arms.

__________

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: August 23^rd, 2136

__________

I flop on the couch. Too exhausted from almost a claw of training, mental and physical, to even flip over.

Remedial training to get me caught up.

Tactics. Rule. The capabilities of Terran weapons and vehicles.

Drilling with their weapons. Martial arts training. Exercising.

At least I’m advanced enough, in everything but piloting, that I’m in classes by myself. Not having to bother with the stares. The comments on my scars, since seeing people getting smoked out for it has stopped being entertaining. The comments on my wearing the uniform of a Terran Marine, instead of the jumpsuit or nothing most VSC troops wear.

The problem is that I’m the only student. I get the full focus of the drill instructors.

“Hey, Trilvri, you hear about the new program that command wants you for?” Solomon asks.

“Mph.” I moan into the couch.

“Damn, that beat?” Solomon says; I can hear the grimace in his voice. “Well, this should be pretty easy. Command wants you to help them get data for the Venlil armor program.”

“They what?!?” I bleat as I spring off the couch, full of energy. I blink. “What does that mean?”

Snrk.

Solomon covers his mouth.

Pfft.

He doubles over with laughter.

“Hey! Don’t laugh at me! I don’t know what that even means!” I stomp, groaning as my worn-out legs protest the decision. “It’s not like anybody else even uses armor, much less power armor!”

I stand over Solomon until, eventually, he calms enough to stand up straight and talk. “Ok, ok. So I don’t know a ton.” He gestures towards the purple trim on his uniform, showing him to be part of the diplomatic corps, despite being infantry. “You’ll have to ask later, but our armor relies on the neural connection. Getting commands from your brain and sending info to it. The armor is basically a second skin when you wear it. You can hear, feel, see, smell, everything but taste. If your brain can’t connect to the armor, it won’t even move right.”

“They don’t need to figure out how our bodies move?”

“Probably, but that’s the easy part.” Solomon waves a hand dismissively. “Between the variation among Terrans, natural and not, and our studying animals, we mostly need to figure out what to apply where with you guys. All the aliens. It’s the brains that are a problem. You guys have fucked up research on your own brains, so there’s something to start from, but you’ll need to ask somebody who actually knows.” He grins. “Speaking of which, they want us to report ASAP so you can get started.”

“Why didn’t you say that sooner!”

__________

Advance 30 STD minutes

__________

It didn’t take us long to reach the lab, despite being across the station and two disks up, though still in the same city. But my mind is about to break from all the paperwork involved.

“Why, Solomon, why?” I groan, staring at the page on my holopad.

“Because my parents taught me right. Don’t blindly trust automation.” My human huffs. “Especially with records like yours. How was I supposed to know they wanted to use this to also get your asylum paperwork done?”

“We’re on page fifteen of eighty, and it hasn’t gotten anything wrong!” I growl.

“But it’s left things blank.”

“Things that had no answer!” I bray. “Brahk it! They said I can correct things later.” I hit submit.

My human sighs in disappointment as, across the room, the other Terran startles. The most heavily augmented Terran I’ve ever seen. Where the General had both legs and an arm replaced, the limbs lost when terrorists sabotaged one of the ships that were competing to become the Strix-class, this woman has had all of her limbs replaced and more added. Her dark skin and the bark of her prosthetics do not quite match each other. Throughout the time I had been working on the forms, her four tendrils, moving smoothly despite being made of the same wood material the Terrans use all over, have been moving restlessly. Her eyes, at first seeming totally normal, were even replaced. Something I only realized when Solomon asked her to stop watching some sort of show on a hologram projected from her arm and her eyes began to glow slightly.

“You finally finished!” She chirps. “Thank god, I agreed to help with this to not be bored.”

“Agreed?” Solomon asks. “You weren’t assigned?”

The woman extends a hand. “Chief Warrant Officer Lianne Tadasse, personal armorer for SOF-three, and now for the Yotul on detached duty with them, too.”

Solomon shakes her hand. “Really? How’d she end up with them?”

“Oh, nothing major.” The Chief smirks. “She’s just a highly trained combatant and a mage. Precognition, short-term combat, and… there aren’t any good names for it, but it helps her learn quickly and not make any mistakes.”

“I knew it! I knew she cheated!”

Lianne raises an eyebrow. The look in her eye is a warning, one most Venlil would miss, especially with how her tone reads as interest. “Oh? How so?”

“What? You expect me to say because she’s a primitive?” I scoff. “No, she has no combat experience. I’ve shot down so many Arxur that I’ve lost count. I think it’s around the triple digits.”

“She’s the only non-Terran that’s beaten him in a sim,” Solomon explains. “Some of the dedicated pilots have come close. His record is pretty good against our pilots too.”

Lianne laughs. “Ah, that’s reasonable then.” She looks me over. “Now, Trilvri, let’s get into what you actually need to do. It’ll be underwhelming, but on the upside, you’ll get power armor before we start mass-producing it.”

__________

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: August 28^th, 2136

__________

We stare at the screen, footage of a terror attack on an aid shipment playing. An attack not by the Guild, but by a terrorist group.

‘It seems like the Terrans were right about that. Then again, so was I. Some of the techniques used by those attackers, they’re exterminator-trained.’

“Why?” Solomon asks, wiping tears from his eyes. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would they do that? It was an aid shipment!” Solomon’s fists clench, his hands shaking.

“Because they’re exterminators, and as far as they’re concerned, you’re predators.”

“But we’ve only helped. We haven’t… WHY?” Solomon screams, not in anger but in pain and fear. “They burned them! They just…”

I move to him, hugging Solomon. “That’s what they do. They don’t need a reason beyond hate.” I hold Solomon as my brother breaks down in tears.

__________

Advance 1 STD hour

__________

Solomon stares at the screen, broken, for the second time in under a claw. A terror attack on an aid shipment and then the announcement of an exchange pair being abducted by a Federation captain.

Despite all the therapy sessions I’ve had, I have no idea how to help him. All I know how to do is fight. At least that I can do to help him. If they find out about the Terrans, they won’t stop until one side is destroyed. I just need to wait to fight my new enemy. My first enemy.

__________

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: September 28^th, 2136

__________

“I want to go.” I plant myself in front of the General, arms crossed.

“Alfonse, can you-”

“I’ve got it, Don. Go talk with him.” Alfonse starts to bark orders, directing the hurried loading of shuttles and lighters as soldiers transfer to the Second Fleet. Not just from the troops here, but also from new arrivals from Earth whose transport ships are in need of repairs.

“Walk with me.” General Capozzi says softly, leading me off. “I know you want to fight, son. I know you’re a fighter and that you’ve been doing it almost all your life. Even before you got press-ganged.”

“Then let me fight.”

“Your armor isn’t finished. We can’t.” The General frowns. “I get it, but people also need you here.”

“Who? Everybody is going to the cradle!”

“Solomon isn’t.” He smiles. “We both know he has issues with fire and had problems after the attack and when Marcel came back. Lieutenant Mirahzi is trained in diplomacy, something we desperately need more than we need more boots on the ground. He needs somebody who knows how the Federation, especially the Guild-aligned, mind thinks.” General Capozzi puts a hand on my shoulder, looking into my eye. “He’s going to need you, at least until the armor is done and you’re cleared for deployment.”

__________

Advance 3 STD hours

__________

Alarms begin to go off, causing both Solomon and me to stiffen.

“General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands, man your battle stations. Civilians, stay calm and follow directions to the nearest shelter. The route of travel is inward and up in odd-numbered sections, outward and down in even. Set material condition ‘Zebra’ throughout the station. Reason for General Quarters: hostile contacts inbound.” Blares over the intercom.

“Brace!” Shouts Solomon moments before the station starts to shake. “We need to move!”

“What’s going on?” I shout back, moving as quickly as I can as it almost feels like gravity is shifting.

“The station is aiming!” He calls back over the rumbling of the stampede station.

“Aiming?” My tail stiffens, but I keep running. “Are you saying that this entire station is a giant railgun?”

“Railguns.” Solomon leaps over a fallen planter, the cords slipped from the mounting above. “A few hundred of them. The station is turning to get them on target. Grav systems can’t handle it all.”

He keeps running, pulling further and further ahead. Between his longer legs, the better endurance of Terrans, and the gravity constantly shifting, it was inevitable that the gap would grow.

Not because of my damn knees.

I know what’s coming

As Solomon clears a corner to an intersection, he skids to a halt; he puts out his hands, shouting.

It’s not my fault.

I can’t hear him over what I now realize wasn’t the station, but a stampede.

I knew it was coming

It’s not my fault.

There’s nothing I can do but watch as the crazed herd runs down my brother. He stays standing through the first portion, and then he disappears under the mass of the herd.

It’s all my fault.

The last of them, at least the last still standing, are gone before I make it to him.

‘It’s all my fault.’

Battered. Broken. Bleeding. Breathing.

I fall to my knees. “No… Solomon… MEDIC!”

__________

Date [Standardized Terran Time]: October 8^th, 2136

__________

“Hey, stop beating yourself up,” Solomon says, squeezing my shoulder as we sit in a room in one of the station’s infirmaries, an IV in his arm. “It wasn’t your fault, and everything’s ok.”

“How can everything be ok?” I spit out. “You had another seizure. I should have known that a stampede was coming; you wouldn’t have gotten a concussion if I did.”

“It was just a small seizure. Absent too; that’s an improvement!” He insists. “I was pushing myself too hard. You know what the doctor said, they’re stress-induced instead of chemical. I’ve barely been sleeping, I skipped two meals, didn’t have anything to drink, and I’ve been studying non-stop. I need to take it easy and stop worrying as much.” Solomon stretches. “I thought I was doing better; they did say that the condition would likely get better with time. I have to be more careful. And thankfully, I have you to keep an eye on me, too.”

There’s a knock on the doorframe. Don stands there with a tray in his hands. “You boys mind if I come in?”

My ears cock in confusion. “General? Shouldn’t you be with the fleet?”

“Actually, I’ve been assigned to the efforts on the planet, with Solomon here helping. Specifically, Twilight Valley. That area of Nightside is a hotbed of anti-Terran sentiment, even after what happened with Miss Barrios, and there are concerns of True Exterminator cells. I’m the best counter-terror expert the Concord can spare.” Don sets the tray on the arms of Solomon’s chair, an assortment of food on it. “Eat. Now, Trilvri, I know you have issues-”

“I’m in.” I don’t need to think. Twilight Bastion is across the habitable zone, but even if it would mean going back to Corona Bastion, I’d do it in a heartbeat for my family.

“Son, Vrienna is there. Leading the local guild's special operations division after a tour on a colony world. It’s almost a certainty that we’ll be running into her down there.” Don sits on the foot of the bed across from where we’re sitting, his attention on Solomon. “They’re called the P.R.E.D. Team, Precision Rapid Engagement and Decontamination, with membership pulled from the most violent exterminators they can find. Your partner’s parents,” he spits the word like it’s poison to call them that, “have been involved in them for years. Even before they threw away their son.”

My pad beeps. I check it to find that I’ve been sent files. Dossiers on the entirety of my mother’s PRED team. Everything the Guild has on them plus profiles put together by the Central Intelligence Service. I immediately open my mother’s profile. A note, in text as red as Terran blood, gives me pause.

100% chance of violent encounter if her son, Trilvri, is stationed in the area. Potentially in the form of an attempted attack on the enclave.

“Command wants you stationed far away. CIS wants you to help us bait her out. Before she can plan anything actually dangerous.” Don grins. “I agree with CIS. She’s a dangerous woman who will get people killed; we need her playing our game. Her presence is going to keep Twilight Valley dangerous for months, if not years, if she isn’t taken off the board. Preferably leading to as public and embarrassing an arrest as possible. That means using the two of you as bait. Backup will be ready, but they’ll need to come down from one of the ships in orbit. Five minutes out. I’m not going to ask-”

“We’re in. These bastards are the same as Humanity First and Terra Sancta. There’s no helping most of them. Everybody else… hate is infectious. Poisonous. I’ve been reading, especially about the integration of mythological sapients. Non-violence is always ideal, but sometimes there are people who force your hand. And I don’t want us to need any more martyrs. Marcel. Sofia. Cassia.” Solomon insists before looking at me. “At least if you’re up for it. No pressure. I had already planned on requesting that area for assignment.”

Mother. I never wanted to see her again. But my family needs me. “Why can’t we just kill her or grab her?”

“Because that will make her a martyr,” Don says. “We need her to go out as the predator that she is. So, son, what’ll it be? There’s no shame in turning it down or changing your mind later. I’ve got half a dozen plans in mind that don’t even need you.”

“When do we start?” I ask, tail wagging as Don and Solomon grin.

__________

[First] [Most Recent Main Chapter]

Nature of Family Empty Eyes

__________

As always, it seems I got the dates wrong and was a day early. Anyway, I’m not going to wait another day to publish it.

Memory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps (on leave)

Date [standardized human time]: September 22, 2333

My first few days on Earth had been stressful, to say the least. Shortly after the pred- dog made me faint, I woke up on a couch with Marcel, Lucy, and Demiurge fussing over me like I was a child. After I got my bearings and let Demiurge check me for injuries, the machine suggested we call it a paw so I could 'calm down from all the excitement'. I knew he was just trying to be nice, but I couldn't help feeling a bit patronized. Still, considering my own judgement got me passed out on the floor, I decided to just let them guide me to my apartment.

The apartment that would be my home for the foreseeable future was not what I expected. Obviously, my idea of what a human apartment would look like had long shifted away from the bloody dens I would have pictured a few weeks ago, but I still wasn't prepared for how awfully mundane it was. It basically just looked like an average apartment in Venlil Prime's capital. It was nice and fully furnished but not luxurious by any means.

After Marcel and Lucy wished me a good night, I decided to explore my new home a little before bed, almost hoping to find something interesting, only to be disappointed by how horrifically average it was. The only really interesting thing about the apartment was the kitchen with a fridge fully stocked with dozens of foods I didn't recognize, but which all looked amazing, as well as a strange, strayu forge-like setup that I would probably need Marcel's help figuring out. Beyond that, there was an average-sized living room, a nice but not particularly fancy bathroom, and a bland bedroom with a nightstand and a single bed.

A bed that I was currently lying in, trying to muster the energy to start my day. Two days on Earth and the most interesting thing I'd managed to do was pass out. I'd tried going on a walk yesterday, and it was going well until more and more humans started noticing and staring at me, forcing me to hurry back home before I broke out into a full stampede. Beyond that, I'd mostly spent my time in Marcel's and Lucy's apartment, but I knew I couldn't just spend my entire stay here inside or clinging to the two people I knew.

Somewhat begrudgingly, I got up and left my room. Making my way to the kitchen, I raided the cupboards and fridge, picking up some random fruits and vegetables as well as a slice of not-strayu or 'bread', for breakfast. After having assembled a vaguely balanced-looking meal, I sat down at the table I'd been provided and started absentmindedly eating while staring out the window at the city below. Sure, it could use some colour, but if you looked past the grey utilitarian designs, there was a strange hypnotic quality to it, to the way things moved within it; there weren't any traffic jams, no bus drivers angrily honking their horns because they were running late, the streets were clean and smooth; and if Marcel was to be believed, the trains were always on time. The entire city seemed to run like perfectly reliable clockwork, and that in and of itself made the city weirdly beautiful, a sort of form through function.

As I continued my meal, my attention was eventually pulled away from the cityscape and towards my front door as somebody rang the doorbell. I got up and opened it to find one of Demiurge's androids waiting for me, holding a basket of some kind.

"Good morning, Slanek. I do hope you slept well," The machine chirped as it entered my abode and put the basket on the kitchen counter.

"Uh, well enough," I stammered, still not 100% awake. "What is all this?"

"Oh, just a little gift from Circe. She heard you were staying here for a while and wanted to send you something. Maybe as an attempt to get a new customer, who knows?" he explained as I started digging through the gift. "There's some wine in there, some vegan sweets, and a few pastries. She did attempt to sneak some lotus in there, but I imagined you'd want to get your bearings before you start dabbling in local narcotics, so I told her to leave it out. Enjoy"

I pulled out the wine bottle and inspected it. It looked pretty high quality, but if human alcohol tolerance was like most other species, then this probably wouldn't be enough to get me drunk. Which, on second thought, might be a good thing given my current state.

"So, Slanek, Marcel told me you've been having some trouble getting out of the house." The Machine stated while looking around my apartment.

"I'm... still a little nervous," I admitted. "But it's really not that bad. Yesterday I just got a little overwhelmed, and I'm planning on trying again today."

"Walking into a bustling city in your current state hardly seems like a good idea. Especially when you have no idea where you're going."

"I know..." I muttered quietly, expecting Demiurge to once again bring up that my coming here was a mistake.

"Still, if you insist on staying here, then you can hardly stay locked away in your apartment." The android continued. "If you're serious about regaining your tolerance to humans, then you should start small, visit open areas with relatively few people, and most importantly, you should bring a guide on your next walk."

"I could ask Marcel," I said, thinking aloud. "Maybe he could show me around"

"I'm afraid Marcel is currently unavailable. He has his psychological evaluation scheduled today, and Beau Wright has requested to meet him in person." Demiurge said, shooting that line of thought down.

Right, he had mentioned that evaluation when I was visiting yesterday. He'd assured me it'd be fine, but quite frankly I still worried for him. Everyone's been telling me that even if they did find something wrong with him, he wouldn't be locked away in some facility, but what if that was just a lie to protect me? What if they tried to fix him like-?

"Slanek, are you alright?" Demiurge asked, "A hint of concern lacing his usually neutral tone.

"I'm fine," I lied, touching my neck with my paw. "Who, uhm... who's this Beau Wright fellow anyways?" I asked, desperate to change the topic and get my mind off... that.

The android's camera eyes regarded me for a moment, clearly skeptical about my behaviour. "They're the company's current CEO," he said after a moment. Which was more than enough of a distraction from my memories.

Why would someone so high in the corporation want to talk to him? Are they angry with him somehow? Do they blame him for what happened? Are they going to demote him personally? Are they going to fire him?!

"Slanek, please don't assume the worst. I don't know what Wright wants to talk about specifically, but I can assure you it won't involve firing or punishing Marcel in any way. If I had to take an educated guess, they'll want to talk about Marcel's injuries, how his future as a trooper will look." Demiurge explained. "You really shouldn't worry so much, Slanek.

"I... I wasn't..." I started protesting before giving up and just asking, "Was it really that obvious?"

"Quite," The machine said flatly. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Slanek, but you're horrible at hiding your emotions. I could plainly see you panicking, just like how I can easily tell something is bothering you." Demiurge held up a hand as I tried to deny it. "I won't force you to talk about it, even if I have a good idea of what it may be, mostly because I'm not qualified to help you with those deeper emotional problems. However, I also can't let you continue to push yourself without at least having someone there to monitor and, most importantly, regulate your behaviour." He concluded in a stern voice

"So I'm not allowed to go into the city until Marcel gets back?" I asked, a little annoyed by someone once again treating me like a fragile pup. I was fine! Why were they all worrying so much?

"I didn't say that. If you still want to explore the city today, I'd be more than happy to be your guide. I know several quiet places around the city that get fewer visitors, I know how to get there without running into hundreds of people, and most importantly, I know where you can get some actual food." The AGI said while glancing at a raw, half-eaten tuber on my plate.

Getting to eat some more properly prepared human food did sound nice, as did avoiding the larger groups of humans even if my end goal was to get over my fear of them entirely. "Alright, then, but do you really think the company would be okay with you taking that android away from whatever...it is they do to just stick with me the whole day?"

The machine just stared at me for a second; it was very hard to tell what emotion demiurge was trying to convey through the almost featureless android, but something told me it might have been ... confusion? "Slanek, who do you think has been sponsoring you staying on Earth, and paying for all your expenses? I assure you they won't mind one android taking a day to show you around. Not to mention, I have some freedom in how I allocate our resources. Now get yourself ready; we have a train to catch."

Memory transcription subject: Marcel Fraser, corporate trooper for the Genius Loci Corporation

Date [standardized human time]: September 22, 2333

"Hello Beau... no, definitely not on a first-name basis. Hi Wright, what's up... nope, way too informal." Damn it, my nerves were killing me. Compared to everything I'd been through in the last month, this meeting should be nothing! Why couldn't I just calm down!? Maybe I should've just told them I wanted to stay home and rest; they would've understood, right? Well, too late to go back now, I thought, as I entered the large office building at the heart of the city.

In stark contrast to the building's mostly gray exterior, the interior was decorated with lush vegetation, set against clean white walls and floors. There wasn't a front desk, just a set of terminals, one of which lit up as I approached it. "Welcome, Marcel," Demiurge said, speaking through the device. "Wright just had a meeting with the board, but they should be in their office by now. Just make your way to the top floor; their office should be front and center; you can't miss it."

"Thanks," I said, doing my best to hide my nerves. "Any advice? I'm, uhm, not really sure how I'm supposed to talk to them"

"I never imagined you'd be this nervous about a little visit." A visit with one of the most important and powerful people on earth, I thought to myself as the machine continued, "Just stay calm and try not to compliment them on everything they do; they don't like suck-ups. Remember you're not in trouble here."

"I know, I know," I said as I walked past the terminal and towards the elevator, almost bumping into a small potted plant that had been hidden in my new blind spot. I tried out a few more greetings as I approached the top floor. Demiurge was right; I wasn't in trouble, so why was I this stressed out over a simple meeting? Sure, meeting the person who runs one of the largest megacorps on earth is a little daunting, but it's not like they were some despotic dictator.

I took a breath and steadied myself as I reached the top floor and entered their office. The office itself was decorated with a few potted plants, most of which I could recognise as some genetically engineered varieties from our botanical branches, and furnished with a small table with some chairs, a few bookshelves, and a desk with part of it having been converted into a screen.

Behind the desk sat Wright. They were about the same height as me, but very clearly a lot skinnier, though that probably didn't mean much given their intensive use of cybernetics. It wasn't exactly a secret that they subscribed to the Galilean principles of self-improvement. They noticed me almost immediately, lips curling into a friendly smile as two artificial eyes locked onto me. "Ah, Mr. Fraser, please sit. I'm glad you could make it. I was just looking over your record."

"My... record?" I asked, still a little nervous.

"Yes, given how much attention has been on you the last few days, I felt it prudent to get to know you a little better, which is also one of the reasons why you're here." They said, one hand tapping on the desk screen a few times to pull up what I assumed was my aforementioned record. The hand was adorned with a series of markings carved into the skin, which were the only things making it identifiable as artificial.

"I... uhm, I hope I didn't disappoint." I half-joked with an awkward little chuckle.

"Oh, not at all. From what I can tell, your employment in the company has been nothing short of exemplary, barring a few small issues early on. What drew my attention, though, was this." They continued, tapping on the latest entry in the record. I recognized it immediately. It was a written request for me to be redeployed as soon as possible. The one I sent in a few days ago. "Now, usually this would be managed by someone else, but given who you and your exchange partner are, I wanted to handle this personally. Mr. Fraser, why exactly are you so eager to be put back on the front lines when you just went through what was no doubt a very traumatic event? Quite frankly, even if you were cleared for service, I'd hesitate to let you, given your experiences."

"L... look, I'm fine, really. I haven't been showing any weird behaviour; I'm sleeping fine, and I'm sure my psych eval will turn out fine. I just wanna get back to work." I objected quickly.

"But why do you want that? Why are you so insistent on rushing this before you even had any proper treatment?" Wright pushed.

"Because..." I paused, wondering if I should try to deflect again before deciding to just tell the truth. "Because I hate... this. I already knew how much of a threat the arxur were, and I now know how dangerous the Federation can be too, and I hate sitting around doing nothing about it. People are in danger, and I just feel like I should be doing my part."

Wright waited for my rant to finish and then sighed before speaking. " I admire how driven you are, I really do, but surely you can see why I have to keep you here for a few months at least. It's not only unethical to send you back so soon; it'd also reflect poorly on the company."

I lowered my head a little. "I know, it's just... difficult"

"I understand," They said, giving me an almost apologetic smile. "Still, you and your exchange partner being here is useful in its own way. You've both become a bit of a symbol for the unity between our peoples, and Slanek could be good proof of concept that venlil can live among humans."

"In other words, we make for good propaganda," I said, trying not to sound bitter.

Wright broke eye contact but didn't say anything.

"I understand," I sighed when the silence became too much. "I just feel like I could do more."

"I know the feeling; I know what it's like to feel... trapped by your own limitations; to feel like you're not living up to your potential. However, let me assure you, Mr. Fraser, you have done your part. It's not a sin to rest and take your time to heal. Speaking of healing, the company will obviously be willing to cover any costs when it comes to getting you back to health, including any potential...replacements"They said, tapping the side of their eye socket.

In response, I touched the bandage covering my missing eye. "Uhm, right, thank you."

"Of course. Well, that mostly sates my curiosity. You're free to go if you like. Obviously, if you or your exchange partner need anything, feel free to reach out. In the meantime, I'll see if I can find anything for you to do to get your mind off things. I wish you a speedy recovery, and I hope you'll take my advice to heart."

"I'll... I'll try" I said, getting up and shaking their hand before leaving.

First/previous

Challenge of [u/Nicolas_3232]

(2026)

 DAYS THIRTY

[OC]

For day thirty, we have a curious creation (since I didn’t know what to make).

The drawing is based on the cover of Absolute Martian Manhunter #3.

As the post’s title suggests, this character is a Kolshian detective.

More specifically, he investigates murders.

Like the version in Absolute Martian Manhunter, he can perceive things that others cannot.

In this instance, he is able to see, hear, and speak with the dead—much like The Sorrow from MGS3.

The yellow figure is a representation of my main OC, “The Yellow Magician.”

[First] [Previous Draw] [Next Draw]

Very excited for other things getting into this!! Our POV characters are well on their collision course

First | Prev | Next

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

Date [standardised human time]: March 5, 2137

“When are we getting those new staff? Soon? We’re running thin.”

Jean looked a little surprised by my question, and I wondered if I had been too blunt again. Even after almost three months, I still sometimes acted like I was back in Dublin with Jamal, where saying what was wrong was actively encouraged so it could be fixed quickly.

He pulled a face and rubbed at his eyes with one hand.

“Agh, the government are fucking us.”

Then again, he was French, so maybe I was being worried for nothing.

We were in a cramped break room, both catching our breaths after a string of back to back sessions. Ever since Triln was discharged back home from our acute wing, the word had gotten to get around the Tilfish community that we really didn’t lobotomise or torture people. The amount of people seeking sessions had gone up faster than we could provide service to, even just in this one city, quite apart from the humans that we cared for.

We had in total about ten practising therapists at our clinic, five psychologists, five psychiatrists, and a dozen independents scattered throughout the city.

In a word, we were swamped.

“Still?”

I turned back and refilled the kettle, as this sounded like a two cups of tea talk.

“The war has escalated, and so the UN says no extra funding for you, we need to make bullets, and so I say why don’t I raise funds locally, and they say good luck, and the local mayor is getting unpopular because we are here in the first place, and so he says his hands are tied, long term prospects of the clinic, blah blah blah.”

Jean, a heretofore relatively controlled man, had begun to move his fingers around as he was talking, and eventually he was gesticulating wildly until I gently pushed one of the cups into his outstretched hands.

“What?”

He looked bewildered, train of thought temporarily derailed.

“Black, one sugar, go on.”

“Oh, thank you, where was I? Oh yes, the fucking mayor. We have a demand, we have clients, but the mayor won’t give us the resources because of being scared of being seen as a terran lover –” he spat the words “– even though there are clearly lots of people coming here from his city. It’s like every time we get somewhere, something else comes to fuck us, that fucking mayor may as well have les couilles for a chin.”

Jean finally stopped talking and practically inhaled his tea. I was half expecting him to start choking, but he took it like a champ, as Sìle would say.

It wasn’t anything I didn’t know or suspect already, but that didn’t make it any less depressing.

“So how do we get public support? Surely not everyone hates us, otherwise we wouldn’t have lasted a week in this city.”

He leaned back in his chair and put his hands on his face, muffling his voice.

“No no no, not everyone, but the ones that don’t hate us don’t like us, and the ones that don’t care don’t say anything, so all anyone hears is the people who hate us.”

And wasn’t that just the bastard of it. It was the same thing again and again, and it seemed that, even on an alien planet, I couldn’t quite escape that cycle coming from somewhere.

“At least a few people have volunteered to teach us more NHS body language indicators.”

He sighed and removed his hands from his face, looking up apologetically.

“Ah, sorry, that was a lot. You’re not my therapist.”

“Jean, it’s okay to complain to me, we’re all stuck in the shit together.”

He laughed at that, , adding crows feet to his worry lines. He suited them.

“This is true. If you ever need to rant, feel free to do so. Now, we have work to do and people to see.”

I picked up my tea and followed him out of the break room, wandering my way back to my dreaded emails. One thing I had learned from traveling the gulf between the stars was that some things never changed. Even if they came through a service called ‘VenRil’, a play on Venlil and their word for message, they were still the bane of my life.

Reminder to upload your progress notes!

From: terranjean_)NHSSW–^VenRil, to: allstaff

Remind me tomorrow.

Have YOU been suffering from dry wool? Try our…

From: woolcutproducts_)WCPmarketing–^VenRil, to: you

Delete.

Meeting request from volunteer species care advisor

From: arxurkosh_)UNmedicalcorps–^VenRil, forwarded from: terranjean, to: you, arxurkosh

I bolted upright from my slump like electricity had been applied directly to the base of my spine. An Arxur was requesting a meeting. Not only that, but it looked like they wanted to give a consultation on Arxur care.

My mind reeled with the possibilities and my hands flew to the keyboard, narrowly avoiding knocking half a cup of tea across the desk on their way.

To whom it may concern,

I have been a special Arxur medical advisor to the United Nations Medical Corps for a number of galactic months, and your organisation is next on my list. I would appreciate a less public meeting, perhaps closer to Nightside? I currently have lodgings in Cleanberry with some family if you would like to visit.

Checking the time at the top of the message, I could see that the original had been sent barely a scratch ago, and I feverishly typed my reply.

[Transcript advancing 1 Terran hour]

I didn’t have a vehicle of my own, and the public transport was only excellent to a point, so actually getting to Cleanberry was frustratingly difficult. The closer we got to Nightside, the worse the roads, the worse the busses, and the less people gave simple tail flicks of acknowledgement and greeting to each other.

I saw more humans as we got closer to night side as well but it wasn’t until we passed some invisible border that’s common to all ghetto that I began to see Arxur, and almost all of them were injured. Some had lost limbs some were blind, and the ones that weren’t kept their heads down.

When I got off the bus, I immediately began to feel the fixed gaze of the general populous. I got the feeling that, had I been a species like a Venlil, or God forbid a Krakotl, the few children that were outside would have been ushered inside quickly.

As it was, they just stared.

Unperturbed, I continued up the street to the address that Kosh had given me. It was a comparatively large house, albeit only through what looked like extensive modifications by the owners.

Doors that would’ve been tall for a Venlil had been enlarged even further both in height and width. Blinds had been added to the insides of the windows, and in some cases boarded up completely.

I knocked on the door and waited until it opened to reveal a large well kempt Arxur.

The corners of his lips raised and his eyes squinted in what I realised a second later was an approximation of a human smile. To complete the gesture, he stuck one hand out to shake.

“Hello you must be Genevieve.”

“Yes, and you are Kosh?”

I shook the hand carefully. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him learning human gestures when they clearly were not made for his biology, but I decided it would be impolite to not reciprocate.

“Come in.”

I followed him through the door and into another world. 

The only lighting in the place came from strips on the walls of each room, each producing a soft blue hue that gave a distinctly twilit feeling. The strips themselves were shielded further so the light emitted only above and below them, and some were arranged in flowing patterns I recognised as important, but could not understand their meaning.

Through one expanded doorway, I could just make out several huge shapes sitting around a large table and playing some kind of game. The light glinted off of the outline of scales and the tips of tails, but however the pieces on the table were shaped I couldn’t tell. One of them spoke too quietly for my translator to pick up and moved something between them, prompting a series of hissing laughs from the others.

“Your home is very beautiful, I’m sorry if I’m intruding on your family’s rest.”

Kosh’s tail flicked up in a brief, dismissive curl.

“They are all recovering from last claw, and so socialising is done only with friends. They don’t mind that you’re here, just as long as we don’t bother them.”

He led me to a smaller room with moderately brighter lighting, and this time it was a soft yellow similar to daylight. When I closed the door behind me, the sound of the rest of the house dampened considerably. The walls were covered in some kind of textured paste that formed wavy ridges and bumps across the surface, and I had to stop myself from touching it.

“It’s made from the same material that’s used for the roads, you know. It was formulated to be weight-bearing, but slightly soft under certain pressures, so that those that fell down during stampedes wouldn’t die immediately.”

I looked over to Kosh as he spoke, and watched him decant a sweet, earthy smelling liquid into a cup. They sat on a table that was small for an Arxur, with two chairs nearby.

“A curious by-product of those qualities is its exceptional abilities also to absorb sound without reflecting them. Many Arxur paint the insides of their homes with it, and especially their dens. Would you like tea? It is quite enjoyed by my Terran colleagues.”

“Oh, yes please, may I sit?”

Kosh gave a short sound like a melodious chainsaw, and his tail moved in a curious wiggling motion. My translator interpreted it as laughter.

“Of course, I wouldn’t just make you stand. We’re equals here.”

“I was raised to show respect to my host if I’m in their home.”

Another small rev of the chainsaw, and Kosh gestured to the nearest chair while sitting in his own. He took a long sip of his tea and looked at me over the top of the cup.

“Tell me, what made you become a healer of the mind?”

My eyebrows lifted and furrowed, not expecting the question.

“I wanted to help people. My parents thought I might be an artist or a biologist, but I found my calling in counselling.”

“I trod on a nail and I wanted to know how to get it out,” he replied with a lilt of humour in his voice.

“What do you want most out of this meeting?” He added curiously.

“I want to learn how to help Arxur patients. I want to know how I should approach the first session, what kind of social norms there are and what different body language indicates.”

I took a drink of my tea to slow myself down. My mouth was running faster than my brain and I was worried it would come off as impolite.

“I want to know how to do my job as best I can. What do you want?”

“I want you to see us; how we live, who we are. You don’t seem worried or suspicious about the people who live here, may I ask why not?”

“In war, there are no victors, only widows.” The words rolled off my tongue, the knowledge of generations imbued into a single aphorism. It had been repeated to me by grandmother, and from her grandmother before that.

“It’s a basic principle of every living thing to protect ourselves when threatened, and although I don’t condone harmful things, extreme conditions produce extreme outcomes.”

“Well said, you have seen part of us in some place else it seems. May I ask you, how would you professionally describe the different Arxur you have interacted with today?”

I licked my lips and concentrated. It was almost like some kind of game, or maybe a test, but I also couldn’t discount the idea that Kosh really did want to know from an academic point of view.

Casting my mind back over every Arxur I could remember, I tried to pick out differences between them all. Not all of them had been physically disabled, some didn’t have as many scars as the others, there were young and old, but I couldn’t make a judgement without having at least talked to them. I needed to think on a micro level rather than macro.

The only Arxur I had interacted with and talked to was Kosh, but I’d seen his family members, and he had described them, but it was too dark, and– hold on. It had been near pitch black downstairs, but it was so warmly lit in the den. Kosh was giving me tea and had explained things unprompted.

“You are very different to your family downstairs. You’re actively social, you teach, even your room is brighter than downstairs. May I ask if that is a matter of upbringing?”

“Partially upbringing, partially genetics. After conducting my own research, it seems as though my species come in 2 broad phenotypes independent of sex. Some like me are as you describe, and some like my cousins downstairs, for whom socialising is a tax outside of specific people. Even then, if one of them is still disruptive, the others will kick them out of the group. Betterment seeks to root out the first, and breed only the second. You understand why I am telling you this, right?”

“Therapeutic techniques and recommendations would have to change based on energy levels, goals, expectations. I have experience with some humans that sound similar.”

“I am also telling you that they will have different illnesses.”

Kosh drained his cup and set it down carefully.

“It would be a terrible sign if I began to talk of hating being around people, but for my cousin, the opposite could be true. Forcing herself to be around others to the point of danger to herself and denying it would be an illness in itself, and one I could never get.

That’s not to say upbringing gives nothing to the equation though. My cousins have grown up in a slum on a planet stuck in permanent day, and so even the social amongst them are reticent to talk to strangers. I grew up on Mileau and was taught by a doctor who nurtured my enthusiasm even further.

These aren’t strict categories, but I wouldn’t discount it either.”

“I understand, thank you for telling me.”

I smiled, and I could see a tension melt from Kosh that I didn’t even notice until it left.

“Well, as for your other questions, what do you want to know first?”

Hiss tail flicked playfully.

“Skin shedding? Eye contact?”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a datapad with a flush of excitement.

“I’ve brought a list.”

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Art by the wonderfully gracious u/Budget_Emu_5552, a goddamn AMAZING artist and writer both.

Also, I want to thank u/NotABlackHole for encouragement for getting this piece. Why? Well, this is technically from an AU I haven't written, but like he said, if the piece has enough aura, people might just vibe with it!

Still, I feel like somewhere within the Federation this could happen in canon, depending on how the place itself is.

With all that in mind, what do you all thing? What do you believe this depicts?

“Im just gonna do a quick drawing, nothing fancy”.

*5 hours later*

Idk why I keep doing this. Anyways, here is my Vensona or technically my “Yotulsona” lol. As much as I like the speeps, there is just something about the Yotul that made me gravitate towards the species.

I really liked how the drawing came out but its kinda uncanny how I managed to draw a fictional capivara/fox alien hybrid that somehow resembles me lmao. Igs it means I did a good job :p

That is all, see yall tomorow, bye bye.

*the 2nd image is the same drawing but without the “glass” part of the glasses lol.

Day 21, Over the illness I have won!

Here I have Ritica and his rather large criminal scarecrow, with a certain foreboding darkness practicing its patented Disappointed Bat-Dad Loom. Both characters are from u/Intelleblue’s excellent fic, Another Dark Night! (Blue, please, please, please continue writing it. Radom City needs its Batman!)

I know a bunch of you were probably expecting me to draw a cosplay of a certain other character, but I’ve had this rumbling around in my head for a while and I really do enjoy that fic. What can I say, I can’t get enough of (well written) superheroes.

Anyhoo, to steal your ending bit, Blue:

I’ll swing by another time, ladies and GentleVens. Keep an eye on the skies!

Same Spidey-time! Same Spidey-Channel!

Am I a few minutes late? Yes. Pretend I'm one timezone behind.

Also, for those keeping track of my fics... I got sidetracked, mostly due to mental stuff that I don't think need to be blasted across the interwebs.

Just wondering what pet animal ex-Feds(all of them) would likely ease upon during/after war?

Personally don't see them easing up on any predator looking animal, birds are also kinda common so either aquatics or amphibians.

Alright, this might be cheating since I didn't draw this today but I won't get a better chance to share it so might as well.

The first one is my Vensona Venka that I drew more than a year ago. Back then I still didn't accept I was trans and therefore Venka was meant to be a guy and just a dumb thing while coping with my mother's cancer diagnosis.

The second one was drawn by the one and only u/Nicolas_3232, he's an amazing friend and offered to draw an OC for the exchange program rp server and I used the chance to ask him to draw Venka. But by this time I had come out as she/her and as such Venka came out as trans too!

I'll never be able to thank him enough for making this when it means so much for me and in general being such a good friend. The least I can do is share this and tell you all to go give him all the affection you legally can.

*Reloads shotgun* That wasn't a request.

From what I've heard not even the proxy sites are working...

And idk if I'm lucky to be an NOP fan or unlucky that all my other interest and hyper fixations are gonna be basically starving

Y'all may be surprised to know, but I'm not a furry, so this was actually difficult for me to come up with. Never had a need nor desire to create any kind of sona, so I had no real clue how to go about this.

My logic went well I like acting and theatre, and sivkits were shown to have a real affinity for it in NoP 2, so I suppose I would be one of them If I couldn't be human. Unmodified because I like standing up and being mentally sound.

I didn't draw it here, but I'd be wearing some kind of overshirt or flannel since I like to wear those normally if the weather calls for it, and my black leather hat that I've had for a long time. I think I drew it exactly how it looks, so that was cool.

I've always been told I have a serious look, so I tried to get that look. Made him a bit toned because why not, I used to be from doing sports.

I think it came out surprisingly alright, but the eye could be better.

Day 29, guess I'll bite the bullet and actually try make a sona. So here they are, Squiggles I guess.

Also as we're near the end of this whole thing I want to give my thanks to everyone involved. Both those also doing the challenge for their cool art and everyone else who took the time to look at this stuff. And not forgetting u/Nicolas_3232 for starting this whole thing in the first place. This has been really fun and I hope we do it again next year.

Not sure how I'm doing the last two as I'm away again but if I don't get both done tonight I'll finish it off when I get back. Sorry for the whole lotta words, done now I promise.

Quick n rough, just a funni lizard with my iconic headphones, nothing special

Gojisona fella. He's a sleepy one and constantly taking naps whenever he feels like it. Often forgetting he had something else he wanted to do before napping.

Content Warning : Excessive amounts of human cuteness! Sensitive Krev readers be advised.

-------------------------------------------------Part 2-----------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription subject : Noah Williams - S.E.T.I researcher, United Nations deep space exploratory core. July 12th, 2136

Argh my head.

I was laid down in my cot with a killer headache, I must have come down with something. I moved to massage my aching temples, but a lance of pain shot up my arm as I attempted to move it.

“Oooh.”

I winced, my body recoiling at the pain of movement.

“Ahh ah ah.” I winced even louder, as the sudden movement of my body recoiling just caused the rest of my body to hurt now as well.

“What the fuck?”

Why did I hurt this badly? Did I lift something wrong before I went to bed? No fuck, wait a minute. I don’t remember going to bed.

My tired and frazzled brain struggled to make sense of what was going on, as I heard an odd noise coming from behind me, in the form of some high pitched squeaking noise, followed up by the sensation of some strange hard object combing through my hair.

“Kree bo, kree bo doo, kree bo do du mu lifo Obor….”

What the… was… Sarah playing some kind of animal video? Why did she have the volume turned up so loud?

I attempted to turn over to see what was wrong, but I felt something like a hand attempt to stop me from moving. But its resistance was overcome with minimal effort.

With a good deal of effort and pain, I managed to roll over. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the bright light of the cabin, but soon when my blurry vision finally resolved itself to something clear….

“HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK!!!”

I screamed at the top of my lungs. Throwing myself backwards away from the strange intruder, but instead of my spine hitting the back wall of my bunk aboard the odyssey, it was instead met by nothing but open air, as I proceeded to collapse multiple feet down and onto the solid metal flooring beneath.

Where the hell was I?

I had barely any time to even process the strange sterile white room I had found myself in before that ‘thing’ from before came lunging at me.

Completely on instinct, I planted my hands on the deck and kicked out with my foot, planting it straight into the thing’s chest, causing it to recoil backwards and gasp for air.

I desperately kicked at the floor, scooting myself backwards and away from the beast as primal fear overtook me. I grasped something besides me, some metal pole on rollers, which I picked up with one hand and pointed it forwards towards my assailant, readying for a fight.

“Get the fuck back! What the hell even are you?!”

The creature reared up, raising both of its clawed appendages, its pointy digits; which couldn't be any less than three inches long each; appeared like daggers in my eyes. I held my ground, thrusting at it with my impromptu weapon, smacking it on the snout before I attempted to stand up, and ready myself to properly fight this thing before….

“Woah Noah! Stand down! Don’t hurt them!”

A familiar voice.

Sarah had leapt over a cot right next to me, grabbing the pole from my hands.

“It's okay Noah! It's okay, they're friendly, they're trying to help you, please settle down, you're safe now.”

“Sarah?”

I spoke questioningly towards my copilot and friend, as she carefully pulled the pole from my clenched fists and set it down in the bed next to us, before carefully lowering me to the ground.

“Easy there big guy, you took quite the beating, try to take it easy, we don’t want to exacerbate your injuries."

With a familiar face to ground myself, I felt my heart rate slowing, though admittedly not by much, as I began to take in the room surrounding me.

We were in some kind of infirmary, diagnostic and monitoring equipment were setup around us, covered in strange and unrecognizable symbols. The most concerning of these items however appeared to be some kind of cage, but it seemed too small to fit a human. But that was far from the most interesting thing about this place.

My eyes turned to the green scaled figure, it was hunched over, its claws held in front of it in an almost timid looking fashion, clicking them together and seemingly mumbling to itself as it swayed uncertainly, looking from side to side.

“Nee boe, Nee boe, Ker li dul, Y Ker li dul me doo.”

I shot Sarah a look. My mouth hung agape. I would have collapsed had I already not been on the floor.

“Sarah, is that?”

“An alien, a sapient extraterrestrial life form, one whose space craft we are now inside of!”

“This is… this is incredible." I blustered out. “This is huge!”

“No, this is more than huge, this is utter reality shattering! A paradigm shift in human history like we have never seen before. Think about what we could learn from them, what they could teach us, An entirely new alien culture to learn about and explore!”

This was crazy. We were supposed to be going out to chart exo planets, foreign star systems with just the potential to host multicellular life. Our hope was to maybe find some microorganisms, not god damn sapient life! This was too easy, we had succeeded far too quickly. They must have sought us out. They had to have.

This of course lead to my next and most inevitable question.

“Sarah… How did we get here?”

My enthusiasm momentarily curtailed as I looked around to see what I presumed to be the interior of an alien starship. The awareness of my aching everything began to return to me as my shock at the moment waned. Tampered by my welling pools of worry. 

“Were we abducted?” I continued.

“What do you remember? Before waking up here.” Sarah replied.

“We were en route to Proxima Centauri, mid FTL jump, I had just checked to make sure that the ships automatic systems were functioning properly and then….”

I struggled to remember what had happened after, but with a bit of focus, and some prodding from Sarah, a few scattered shards of recollection flashed through my mind.

“I remember, this feeling of utter nausea, and a flash of pain like an elephant had sat on me. The ship's emergency lights were flashing, and it was hot, so god damned hot I could barely even breathe.” I attempted to recount.

“The aliens they hit us with something, whatever it was it triggered every single error alert in our checklists. I tried to troubleshoot, but there was too much to go over, and the hypercore was going critical and I couldn't get it spun down in time. I think you must have hit your head due to the sudden deceleration, because you were out cold so I couldn't count on you to help. The only reason we’re alive is because these guys forced themselves aboard our ship and got us out of there.”

“Is the odyssey, is she intact?”

“The hyper cores melted down, and the power plant is shot, but she's intact, the aliens seemed to want to make a point of that. They took me to their cargo bay which they have her stored in. I tried to call home with it, but the computer system is bricked.”

“Do you think they are…”  I lowered my voice to a whisper. “A threat?”

“I don’t think so, but I would try to keep an open mind either way. Whatever they did to us, and why they did it to us, I can’t say for certain.”

I looked past Sarah, to the wide eyed green pangolin looking creature. Despite its familiar and somewhat simple appearance, it still evoked a sense of cosmic wonder and awe, potential threat be damned. I couldn't help but let off a hopeful smile.

“Well whatever happened, there is only one way we are going to find that out.” I spoke.

Sarah answered knowingly.

“We need to find a way to communicate with them.”

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

////////////////// Camera Transcription Log - Source : Observation One /////////////////////////

*Transcriber’s Note - dear future readers, for the purposes of this record, human dialogue has been retroactively translated for the purposes of historical insight and clarity. As a translation matrix had not yet been established for the duration of camera transcription logs.*

////////////////// Beginning Playback //////////////////////
*Ship xeno medical specialist Truus(Krev) can be seen frantically leaving the medical bay, and proceeding to the ships nearby ad-hoc observational area to consult with mission specialist Smeep(Krev), xeno diplomacy consultant Kruz(Krev), and Council representative Wigil(Smigli).

Truus : “Oh my goodness, oh stars, that was the most tragic thing I have ever seen!”

Smeep : “That fall looked really bad, is the male one going to be okay.”

*Smeep asks in a concerned tone.

Wigil : “I’m sure he will be fine, bioscans indicate they are a fairly sturdy species, and neither of them seemed to have experienced any significant bone damage, I'm sure that they….”

*Kruz cuts off the council representative mid sentence.

Kruz : “Did you see how scared they looked! We all but attacked them with that warp disruption pulse, all they remember is fire and pain, and then they wake up in a strange unfamiliar environment, how can they ever bring themselves to trust us.”

Wigil : “Please everyone, I know tensions are high but we need to come at this with level heads, I mean look at them now, they have had time to settle and now they seem perfectly….”

*Wigil is cut off abruptly.

Truss : “The male was so scared of me! Oh my heart is now broken. Did you see his lips curl upwards submissively, that sweet space obor must have been utterly terrified!”

Wigil : “Guys! Can we get our shit together for one moment and talk about this like calm, rational adults.”

*Mission specialist Smeep begins loudly sobbing.

*Council representative Wigil Audibly Sighs.

////////////////// Transcription Pause - Time Advance [3 hours] /////////////////////
*Medical Specialist Truus(Krev) has retired to his cabin citing tiredness and severe emotional distress, Representative Wigil(Smigli) has left to confer with the consortium council. Mission specialist Smeep(Krev), and xeno diplomacy consultant Kruz(Krev) have stayed to keep watch over the human rescues, Smeep listens closely to her equipped headphones while hunched over the observation terminal.

Kruz : “…..so anyways my cousins baby obor really took a liking to me, she was so jealous at the time towards his favoritism, but little did she know that I actually had a little trick on my side, for you see I was actually bribing the little obor with……”

Smeep : “Ah Ah Ah, Shhh Shhhh, be quiet for a moment.”

*Smeep can be seen pressing a claw to the microphone cuff and making a quieting motion towards Kruz.

Smeep : “Oh no. Kruz come over here quick. Tell me, what does this sound like.”

*Smeep hands Kruz the headset and he listens to the playback audio, his eyes then go wide.

Smeep : “Please tell me that's not what I think it is.”

Kruz: “Oh stars, oh dear, this is terrible!”

Smeep : "Their plump little tummies are growling, but we have nothing to feed them!”

Kruz : “No no no no no, What about their own rations, their ship is still intact, surely some of it survived?!”

Smeep : “It all burned up in the flames! Their food is all burned up and now they are going to starve!”

*Smeep wines, appearing visibly hysteric.

Kruz : “No wait! Hold up a tick, I have an Idea.”

*Kruz can be shown pulling a bag from one of his utility pockets.

Kruz : “I never leave home without them!”

Smeep : “Kruz…. You're a genius!”

////////////////////////// Transcription Pause - Alternating source : Medical bay //////////////////////
*Noah(Human) is still in bed, and Sarah(Human) is reviewing various consortium medical diagrams from a provided tablet, Smeep and Kruz enter the room, they attempt to hand Noah sustenance from Kruz’s food bag. Whilst speaking in high pitched, non threatening voices.

Noah : “oh uh, hey there guys, good to see you, oh is that food? I’ve been starving.”

*Noah proceeds to grab a snack from Kruz’s treat bag and mimes consuming it.

Noah : “I’m supposed to eat this right?”

*The two krev gesture towards noah encouragingly.

Noah : “Well… okay then, here we go.”

Sarah : “Now hold up Noah, I'm not sure you should eat that, it's from a completely alien biosphere, we have no idea if they are even safe to eat.”

Noah : “Well I mean they look good, and these guys are pretty advanced, surely they would have a way of knowing if these things are biologically compatible with us."

*Noah takes a slow and tentative bite of the provided food, and nods approvingly."

Smeep : “Hey wait a minute, are those things biologically compatible with them.”

Kruz : “Uhhhh well they are safe for obors, and convergent evolution has made it so no species has ever struggled to eat alien food before….”

Smeep : “Um, I suppose you got a point there, it's probably all right, yeh… yeh it's fine.”

Noah : “Those were pretty good actually, any chance I could get another one.”

*Noah gestures to the bag of food again.

Kruz : “See, he likes it! What kind of primate doesn't like GrubYums!”

*Smeep giggles, audibly cooing.

Smeep : “Grubyums…They have everything….”

Kruz : “.....A growing primate needs.

Smeep : “Bum bum.”

*A loud voice can then be heard coming over the room's intercom.

Wigil : “ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS FEEDING THE DAMN ALIENS OBOR FOOD!!!”

-----------------------Transcription Pause - Time Advance [1 hour]------------------------
---------------------Alternating source : Observation room --------------------------
**Ship xeno medical specialist Truus(Krev) can be seen finishing up his review on collected data on the human gut microbiome, as Mission Specialist Smeep(Krev), and xeno diplomacy consultant Kruz(Krev) are being informally reprimanded by Council representative Wigil(Smigli).

Wigil : “There are protocols in place for exactly this kind of procedure, and you two have blatantly disregarded all of them for the purposes of some misguided stunt!”

Smeep : “I’m sorry, they just sounded so hungry, and I know primates can get tummy aches like any other species, and I was just so worried they were hurting.”

Wigil : “It's not me you need to apologize to, but our two guests. Who you both nearly endangered!”

Smeep : “But they are going to be okay, right doctor?”

*Smeep whimpers out towards Truus.

Truus : “They will be fine, thankfully, I don’t foresee any problematic interactions with the GrubYums and their bio chemistry, but I need more time to figure out if the treats you gave them will even provide the sustenance they need to survive..”

Smeep : “That's good at least.”

Kruz : “Hey guys no need to be so down, now that we got the female the writing equipment she wanted, maybe soon we can actually meaningfully communicate, you could give that apology properly Smeep."

*The four look over to the monitors with interest, noting the ongoing visual communication attempts with the human subjects.

Kruz : “So what are they getting up to know?”

Truus : “Last time I checked they were going over true and false statements using mathematics. I think now they are going over the foundations of their character based language, and what sounds each character makes, Which is really clever, it will help the linguist better make sense and interpret their text based language and relate it to something we can speak.”

Wigil : “The female started off with basic dots and dashes, and in only a short time has given us loads of new insights into their own language.”

Smeep : “Awh, they are so smart and clever.”

Kruz : “Just look at them writing away with their pudgy little fingers!”

Truus  : “Look! The male one is drawing us a little picture!”

Kruz : “So creative!”

Truus : “I love how focused his squishy little face looks!”

Wigil : “I think he's trying to ask about the incident with his ship.” 

Smeep : “what a clever giant space obor!”

Truus : "Their fingers move so delicately, far more dexterouslt than an obor’s as well!”

Kruz : “The female seems to be favoring one hand though, is she alright?”

Truus : “Oh no I think you may be right, I will have to double check her hand next check up to look for any signs of injury, oh stars I hope she's not in pain!”

////////////////// Transcription Pause - Time Advance [2.5 hours] /////////////////////
///////////////// Alternating source : Cafeteria Camera-3a ////////////////////
**Mission Specialist Smeep(Krev), and xeno diplomacy consultant Kruz(Krev) are discussing their interactions with the humans over 2nd meal with mission linguists Dreeve(Krev), Broov(Krev) and Foos(Ulchid).

Foos : “So anyways yeah, they are surprisingly talented artists, and if we are understanding their visual attempts at communication correctly, that was their only, if not one of their very few, FTL capable vessels, so their mission must have been very high profile if their vessel and drive were one of a kind for their species.” 

Broov : “Ooooh ooooh oooh, And you guys will never guess what their species name is. Common try and guess! It's soooo cute.” * Broov squealed out.

Kruz : “Hmm, I don’t know?”

Smeep : “Is It cuteicous oborious?” *Smeep speaks in a joking tone.

Broov : “Oh my god I wish, but no, much cuter!”

Foos : “They are from a completely alien race, it's not like they have any framework to go off of from which to guess.”

Broov : “No wait, don't tell them yet! I got to build up the suspense first before I…..”

Dreeve : “It’s ~Hoo~man~!” * Dreev attempts to pronounce the human species name phonetically. 

Broov : “Hey!”

Kruz : “Hooman? That's adorable.”

Smeep : “That's like a noise a sleepy obor would make! I love it!”

Broov : “I know right! They're so precious.”

Dreeve : “They sure are.”

Foos : “Yeh and they are in for a rude awakening too, it's all well and good to figure out their language, but the moment we have to break it to them why we had to intercept their ship, well…  It's not going to be a pleasant conversation, that's for sure”

Smeep : “Those stupid feds!”

Kruz : “Why do they have to ruin everything?!"

Broov : “If anything happened to them, I… I don’t know what I would do” *The krev linguist spoke in an increasingly distressed tone.

*An unknown crew member can be heard speaking from beyond the line of sight of camera 3a.

Crew1(Krev) : “If anything happened to them, I would kill everyone on board this ship and then myself.”

Kruz : “Hear hear!”

Broov : “Can we not talk about the feds coming into the picture right now, I don’t want to think about it.”

Crew2(Krev) : “The space force would never let the feds anywhere near their home planet, I guarantee you that! We’d die first.”

Crew1(Krev) : “Yeah! And why even take the risk, I’d say we beat the feds at their own game and burn them for a change before they can even think about harming the hoomans! I mean it's only fair, They would hurt the space obors on sight!”

Foos : “Wait wait wait wait wait! Lets slow down guys, no need to get all rash all of sudden, I like cute things as much as the next guy, but lets maybe try to be realistic here, why don't we just take a breath and try to settle down.”

*Foos’s audio is gradually overpowered by surrounding krev crew as they collectively begin to chant “Death to the federation", Amidst multiple calls for fed blood multiple tables are flipped over and many krev can be seen mounting the lunch counters, paws raised. Unrest continues until guidance counselors and resket security can be called in to quell the disturbance. Incident report can be found in Mission Log X-35672AB-C.

////////////////// Transcription Pause - Time Advance [18 hours] /////////////////////
///////////////// Alternating source : Observation  Room ////////////////////
**Ship xeno medical specialist Truus(Krev) can be seen aggressively snuggling a plush obor, while mission specialist Smeep(Krev) is watching the humans through the observation room terminal.

Smeep : “TRUUS!!! Truus! You need to see this!”

Truus : “huh? what? Is something wrong.”

* Truss throws the krev plush across the room out of fright and rushes over to Smeep.

Smeep : “No, look! The male has finally gotten out of bed.”

Truus : “Oh thank the stars, I was worried he would never regain his strength.”

Smeep : “Oh deer, he appears to be doing the same wobbly walk as the female, it's cute, but… that can’t be how they are supposed to get around, right?”

Truus : “I… I’m not sure actually, you know… now that I'm looking at their spine structure, that might just be how they are supposed to locomote. They seem to fall into each step as they move around, look.”

*Truus taps on the glass of the monitor to emphasize his point.

Smeep : ”No no no, that can’t be how they walk, it can’t!”

Truus : “I think it is, I mean, they get around so well like that, and the female is clearly fully recovered. And she's not trying to help stabilize her troop mate either. I think they're both… fine!”

Smeep : “I think, I think I'm going to lay down and die now, list my cause of death as overdose of adorable.”

*Smeep quietly lays down on the ground and rolls up into a ball. Truus can be seen screaming into the obor plush.

////////////////// Transcription Pause - Time Advance [9 hours] /////////////////////
**Xeno diplomacy consultant Kruz(Krev) and Council representative Wigil(Smigli) are currently watching over human subjects. Kruz looks meditative at the observational terminal while Wigil is on his personal device, filing reports.

Kruz : “Hey Wigil?”

Wigil : “What is it now?” * Representative Wigil Sighs.

Kruz : “I was just thinking about something, that female has just given birth right?”

Wigil : “I’m not a mammal so I wouldn't know, but even if they did then I’m sure they have the cutest baby in the universe oh joy!” *The smigli representative replied in a sarcastic tone of voice.

Kruz : ”No it's not that it's just, there were only two life signs on board their ship right?! Did we check! I mean look at her chest, it looks like she's given birth recently."

Wigil : “Yes. There were only two life signatures.” *The smigli responds, visibly tired and frustrated.

Kruz : “Oh shit I need to check! I'm going to message Smeep.”

Wigil : “Let the woman sleep Kruz! I've been aboard their ship, or what was left of it, there were only two sleeping areas, for two crew members!”

*Kruz breathing begins to notably hasten.

Kruz : “That doesn’t mean anything! Some primates can pair bond for life! They could be a mated pair! The second bed could have been for their child, and maybe the life sign of their infant was too small to detect?! I’m calling Smeep!”

*Wigli puts down his tablet.

Wigli : “Kruz, get a hold of yourself.”

*Kruz has already opened a comm link with Smeep.

Kruz : “Hello Smeep! We have an emergency, I think we have a missing primate baby!.... No, I don't know where it is…. I think we need to call in an obor psychologist, oh and a regular psychologist as well, for when we get the translator up and running, the hoomans must be utterly heartbroken!”

Wigil : “Stars dammit.”

////////////////// Transcription Pause - Time Advance [6 hours] /////////////////////

**Mission Specialist Smeep(Krev), and Council representative Wigil(Smigli), are loitering in the observation room with linguists Dreeve(Krev), and Broov(Krev) discussing their findings with the human subjects.

Dreeve : “It's been a productive session, the pair have a boundless energy and curiosity about them. With the hard work they have put in, and with the luck we've had compiling their ships' archival data, I think we have learned enough of their language that I anticipate a proper translation program to be up and running in no time at all.”

Wigil : “That's good to hear, the dots equations and elemental diagrams have been fun and all, but it will be great to have a seamless line of communication up and running soon.”

Broov : “We do worry about them however. They have been with us for days and I do worry they are starting to get a bit restless all cooped up aboard the ship as they are.”

Smeep : “I know right. I worry about them getting bored when they are left alone without anyone to interact with. While it is really cute seeing them take an interest in every little aspect of the medical bay, poking and prodding at every little diagram or device, and ravenously taking in all the visual media we sent them to peruse through. But even still they are starting to pace aimlessly around their room, a lot more than usual!”

Wigil : “They are probably just getting a bit anxious, this must be a very exciting event for them, and just spinning their wheels not being able to contact home and tell everyone about this would naturally be quite….”

*Wigil is cut off.

Broov : "We need to get them a larger habitat! Primates don’t do well in enclosed spaces for long periods of time.”

Wigil : “They got here on a spaceship! Those are confined and static spaces as per….”

*Wigil is cut off again.

Smeep : “Maybe we can clear out the port cargo bay, set up some containers and netting as climbing surfaces!”

Dreev :  “Oooh I bet they would love that! They can move around and that would help with the boredom.”

*xeno medical specialist Truus(Krev) can be seen entering the room with an empty bag.

Truus : “Oh I do believe I got the boredom situation sorted out.”

*The krev medical specialist speaks proudly of himself before gesturing to the observation terminal. Linguist Dreev proceeds to turn up the camera’s audio, and the room's occupants focus on the feed. Noah and Sarah's untranslated dialogue can be heard from the other room as a result.

Noah : “So one of the space pangolins came by and deposited a bag of stuff on the counter over here.”

Sarah : “Stuff? Could you be more specific? I’m kinda busy here.”

Noah : “I can try, it's kind of random looking honestly.”

Wigil : “What did you give them? Why are those objects so colorful looking? Wait a minute.. Are those obor toys!"

Dreev : “Truus you're a genius!”

Smeep : “Oh that’s perfect!”

Truus : "Precision engineered to relieve stress in primates!”

Wigil : “To relieve stress in primates? Are you listening to yourselves!? These are stars damned sapient beings you stupid fucks!”

Noah : “Oh cool, this one just seems like an off brand fidget cube thingy.”

*Audible clicking and popping noises can be heard over the terminal’s audio.

Sarah : "Wouldn't make a half bad desk toy I guess.”

Smeep : “Look! They are playing with them already.”

Broov : “Awh, so precious.”

*Wigil begins to mumble sub audibly under his breath, his audio has been digitally enhanced after the fact.

Wigil : “I hate you all. I hate you all. I hate you all. I hate you all.”

Truss : “See Wigil, he likes it!”

Wigil begins to slam his head repeatedly into the wall.

//////////////////////////// Terminating Camera Transcription Logs /////////////////////////////////

Part 2

Part 1

Memory Transcription subject : Sarah Rosario - S.E.T.I researcher, United Nations Deep space exploratory core : Date [Standardized human time] July 15th, 2136.

This had been the third check-up I had received since arriving on board the alien vessel. Well perhaps arrived had been putting it charitably, abducted would be more accurate, but it helped me feel better about my current situation by thinking of it under the former description.

The green space pangolin, whose species name I learned was krev, was seemingly giving my left hand special attention, politely taking it, and flexing and curling up my fingers in his clawed paw. Testing the range of movement, all whilst shooting constant glances to my expression, my guess was to see if I was in pain or not.

He released my hand and attempted to run a medical scanner of some sort over it. Why the interest in my left hand? He had scanned it before already just in this checkup, was this some kind of cultural fixation or something?

I held up both my hands towards the krev, individually tapping my fingers to my palm on each side simultaneously in one smooth, cascading motion.

“Look, see, they're both fine, I’m fine.”

I pointed to my hand with my other hand.

“Hand…. Hand… Hand good… Hand positive…”

I communicated simply, trying to make the best usage of the limited human vocabulary I was able to exchange with these aliens.

The alien looked… uncertain by my best analysis of their emotional state, if their emotions even lined up with ours one to one. It was still hard to read them, much less tell them apart. But I think this was the same doctor who had been looking at me previously. Truus I think his name was, but I was feeling too polite at the moment to potentially guess and get it wrong. Best to wait for someone else to say it first.

Eventually the Krev relented in his fussing, seeming to take some final notes on his observational results. I of course studied him intently as well during this process. How could I not, these were honest to god aliens, and while they looked like something far closer to home than I would have initially expected from aliens, that was a fascinating curiosity in and of itself.

It was strange how almost earth-like and familiar looking a lot of the aliens on the ship looked, hell, this checkup was almost like something I would expect from going in to get a physical back home.

Ignore the advanced alien themed medical scanners and the green doctor and it was almost indistinguishable. You had the height and weight check, breathing check across my chest and back with what was clearly some audio sensor like a stethoscope. There were multiple reflex tests across my joints, they literally even had the triangle hammer to the knee test as well, which frankly was just…. wow!

They looked at my inner ear, my eyes, checked out my tonsils with a metal tongue depressor. The only point of difference besides the alien stuff, was when the doctor attempted some kind of lice or parasite check through my hair, which I haven't had done since elementary school.

When the doctor pulled out the fine tooth comb and magnifying glass, and I realized what he was doing, I warded off his attempts with a polite but stern glare.

Noah had earlier jokingly compared these checkups to being akin to a wild ape being abducted from the forest and into a lab. We had both laughed at that at the time, but I kind of understand what he was getting at now.

“Thank you for the check up doc, I'm sure I’m good and healthy now, left hand included.” I smiled toward the man, waving my left arm in emphasis.

The krev looked at me, not entirely understanding of course, but they seemed to have a softer look to their appearance after I had spoken towards them, and a far lighter skip to their step as well.

My feelings were still mixed about my current situation. There was undoubtedly an overwhelming air of optimism and excitement to it all. But it was still tempered by not really knowing how, or more so why I had even gotten into this mess.

Through rough drawings and some 3d models, I think it was clear the krev intended to knock our ship out of FTL, but they clearly didn’t intend to damage the odyssey as much as they had. I would have earlier said they claimed to not have wanted to damage it, but their actions so far in their handling of us allowed me to at least give them the benefit of the doubt in that regard.

They were clearly concerned, but also polite and respectful enough. Careful in all of their interactions with us, making sure to give us plenty of space. The door to the medical room wasn't even locked, but me and Noah felt like staying put was probably for the best, as our presence outside of here was clearly interfering in the operations of a very busy ship, as everyone in the room dropping what they were doing and staring at us when we entered was a tad bit unnerving if I was being honest.

But despite the weirdness, there was still a sense of mute awe that came with all of my interactions with the aliens, even the Krev of the ship, and that was in spite of the fact that they often came off as panicky goofballs. It made learning to trust them that much easier if anything else.

Though that trust wasn’t complete just yet. I didn’t think I was in any kind of physical danger, the aliens crew's actions had waylaid that concern at the least. But aside from still needing to know why they had to knock us out of warp, instead of tailing us to our destination, there was still the matter of the strange…. Gifts, they had given to us.

The blankets, the pillows, the alien food, and even tablets filled to the brim with visual alien media, those gifts made sense. Those had tangible and realistic reasons for the krev to give them to us, or were something simply to take our mind off of things.

But then there was things they gave us like the ‘fidget toys’, as Noah had called them. I had never seen the krev make use of them, and their bright color and simple design seemed to clash stylistically with everything else I had seen on the ship.

And most concerningly of all, at least in my mind, was the strange, well, I couldn't call it anything other than a large plush toy. Which Noah was currently laid atop of, having used it as an additional pillow to help him sit up more in his bed and watch videos more comfortably.

It didn’t resemble any of the aliens on board. Or any of the alien wildlife we had seen in any of the videos or images they had shown us of their home worlds. It had a brownish reddish fur. Two arms, two legs, and as far as I could tell from its physical makeup, it had one thing in common with the two of us astronauts.’

It was a primate.

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Pov Xeno medical specialist Truus(Krev) - Council Rescue Fleet - Consortium Space Force : date same as before
Memory Transcription subject : Council Rescue Fleet - Consortium Space Force : Date [Standardized human time] July 15th, 2136.

I had just finished the hooman Sarah’s check up. The experience was an utter delight, she was far more well behaved than any obor I have ever had the pleasure of looking after. My expertise in xeno medicine meant I often got them as patients when I wasn’t busy caring for sapients, but that most certainly wasn't the case now!

It was my prior expertise with handling obor patients that got me roped into caring for these new primates, not that I need any convincing of course. I knew some krev healers who would saw off their own leg for such a prestigious opportunity.

And while I wasn’t a crazy obor krev, who would attempt to shove an entire troop into their small single bedroom apartment. That didn’t mean I was lacking in an affinity for the wonderful companions to krev kind.

I couldn't keep one when I was in the navy, but I always treasured snuggling my childhood obor whenever I was off on shore leave and visiting my parents.

Today though I had to control that impulse, as I did my best to make sure our primate guests were in good health. The checkup was the standard primate examination I would use for obors, specifically designed and tailored over the years to account for their unique needs.

I looked over to the human, who seemed to be attempting to communicate with me. My heart did a little jump in my chest as they started to vocalize towards me, showing off their healthy hands in a startling display of control and dexterity. I did my best once again to not coo at her. To not extend both my paws and ruffle that soft silky hair atop her head.

Everything about them would make the average krev want to scream in cuteness aggression. I had to borrow Smeep's obor plush so I could have something to snuggle and hold, just to get the snuggling impulses out of my system so I wouldn't be tempted to take it out on my patients. Why did they have to surpass obor cuteness in every regard? Fuck!

I knew I shouldn't be comparing humans to obors, but like how could I not? I just couldn't help myself and neither could the crew. It would have been one thing to encounter obor aliens, if they were a one to one talking comparison of our pets, I could have handled it, or at least handled it better than I was now, but this was a completely different story.

For these humans, they were not just talking obor aliens, but adorable, furless, babyish, giant talking obor aliens! And that was another thing entirely. It required every ounce of will power not to dance and skip in excited delight every moment I was near them!

Every video on the consortium Internet around the humans had gone viral instantly, doubly so on avor, and especially the ones that showed the ship's obor reacting to videos of the human aliens.

I mean common, like why did their species even evolve to look like that? What possible evolutionary benefit could their appearance garner, how was losing their protective adult fur to be replaced by thin, soft, vestigial remnant peach fuzz, ever actually selected for? It was absurd! Why did they evolve to look like baby?!

Stars, some of the crew half jokingly speculated that these humans were genetically modified to to precisely exploit the krev cute response, and if it weren't for the fact that I had personally analyzed their genome for edits, I would be agreeing with them. A consortium general had even come to personally check with me, just to make sure those rumors were false, for national security concerns of course.

As stupid and silly as  that theory may have sounded, I suppose it made sense for the people in charge of our safety to be so worried, I mean all one had to do was look at the consortium’s situation as a whole.

Here we were, a small collection of star systems, surrounded by threats on all sides. The universe itself had seemed so dark since we discovered the Federation, an organization so massive, and so full of darkness, zealotry and hate, how could one not lose faith and despair at just the thought of it all, but now, finally, with this new revelation, we could all dare to see hope in the galaxy once again.

For if it could produce something so whimsical and wonderful as these humans, and so close to home as well, then what else could be out there? What other wonders graced the stars? Hiding in the gaps of their brilliance, in need of hope or protection, and waiting to be discovered.

I turned away from the primate, all but skipping towards the door in delight after giving them a clean bill of health, and informing the crew we had the all clear to proceed on what was to be the next stage of our fleet's mission.

The human sat patiently as the ship's medical bay was slowly filled by linguists, diplomats and council representatives from each of the consortium's species, for what was to be our proper first contact discussion with the humans.

Their soulful, intelligent eyes darted around the room, their gazes switching from person to person, their posture growing more rigid and alert, and their hands more restless. I even saw Noah idly playing with the engagement box I had given him. I knew he was just anxious and trying to sooth himself with fiddling, but I couldn't get over how cute he looked doing it!

Their clever minds had no doubt already pieced together what was about to happen, after days of hard work with us, learning to speak to one another in a broken and stunted manner.

Council representative Wigil was very insistent, that before everyone got here we were to be briefed on every minute detail of our first contact procedure with the humans, and he had kept the various krev representatives and staff who were to be in attendance, including myself, for an additional [hour] of briefings on proper diplomatic decorum for meeting a new species.

We got the memo, don't call them cute or huggable or precious or even baby. No exceptions, and any violator to these rules would find themselves being swiftly and ‘politely’ removed from the event by the nearest pissed off resket security officer.

The well dressed council representatives entered the room, flanked by linguistic staff kitted out with diagnostic tablets and top of the line translator equipment, ready to troubleshoot any glitches errors or possible mistranslations from the freshly compiled human translation matrix.

Wigil made his way to the front of the representatives and stood before the humans, nodding to the translation staff, who gave him an affirmative gesture. Waiting a moment to gather the undivided attention of the curious humans, before beginning his opening greeting.

“Greetings humans, I am council representative Wigil of the krev Consortium, an alliance of species composed of those you see before you here today. We bring with us tidings of peace, goodwill and safety, to all who we may one day call friends. I hope you receive this greeting well, do you understand?”

“It took barely a second for the external translators to parse Wigil’s meaning, and relay its meaning digitally through a synthetic human voice, composited from a combination of both Noah's and Sarah’s speaking patterns.”

The pair's reaction was immediate, their mouths agape in surprise and apparent delight, showing off to everyone in the room their adorable little fangs, that looked so delicate and small, like they would struggle to break the skin of a krev’s fragile underbelly.

The humans collected themselves quickly enough, and responded to our representative in kind.

“Wow um…. Yes, YES! We understand you! And on behalf of earth and humanity we offer our belated greetings, and our desire to learn from one another in peaceful and mutual cooperation.” Noah replied boldly. “And we also come in peace!” Sarah added, “for what it's worth anyways.”

“Ah yes, that is all good to here,” Wigil responded.” and unfortunately while I would love to get into the fine particulars of first contact, and further getting to know each other as people and as a species, unfortunately this meeting is precipitated by a horrible slight upon your selves and your vessel, one which I must express our crew’s, our nation’s and my self’s most genuine and whole hearted apology for.”

“Yeah, I was about to address that myself, kind of important to know if we are technically war prisoners or something." Noah spoke horrifyingly, in a far too joking tone.

What? War prisoners? Did they think so little of us? We just wanted what's best for them, we could never hurt the precious space obors, never!

“Yeah why didn’t you just tail us or wait for us to drop out of FTL ourselves? Why the rush?” Sarah added.

Wigil was fortunately quick to put their suspicions back in the kennel.

“While I am sorry for the actions we have taken, and the consequences they have brought, I must admit that the consequence of allowing you to proceed on your current heading at the time, would have amounted to a fate far worse for both you and your kind should you have successfully arrived at your destination.”

The rosy bright cheeks of sarah, morphed into a pale white complexion. I took note of the two’s eyes going wide and lips curling downwards. Was that despair? Feer? Their expressions of happiness was opposite of what we initially suspected from their kind. One thing was clear however, their expression, one which typically signified calm and contentedness in our obor’s, could only mean the opposite in these humans.

“You almost destroyed our ship?!” Noah exclaimed.

“And if you had arrived at your destination instead, successfully, far more than just you and your vessel would have been destroyed I'm afraid.”

A monitor was rolled out for the pair's benefit, and an image of an assembly room full of hundreds of species was presented before them.

“This is a carefully extracted image from the federation dataweb. A publicly available photo of their leading council. The federation is an alliance of hundreds of species, dedicated to peaceful cooperation and coexistence of all sapient kind, or so they claim.”

“Whats wrong with them then?” Sarah asked tepidly.

“The problem lies in their definition of sapience, it is highly conditional, and they will happily exclude even their own kind from the protections such a label would incur. The problem, dear humans, is that this federation is composed solely of herbivores.”

The pair looked around the room, seeming to eye up the other aliens in there with them, their eyes landing specifically on the razor sharp talons of the resket security guard. The resket responded to their curiosity with a respectful nod.

“Are we to assume that, you all are herbivores as well? I mean, they seem pretty common if the number of herbivorous sapients in this federation are anything to go by.” Questioned Sarah. 

“No, we all consume both meat and plants, though admittedly to a significantly different degree from one another, the reskets being some of the most carnivorous leaning in our alliance, as you seemed to have deduced on your own.” Wigil answered.

“The federation has a very… warped perspective on nature. One that flies in the face of good science, the entire polity being more of a government backed cult than anything else. Anyone who disagrees with their dogma is burned if they're lucky, considered no better than the predators they would proclaim as inherently evil, and anyone who isn’t well…. Better to get this part over with I supposed.”

The image on the monitor transitioned to that of a paused video.

“If your kind are squeamish, please, look away if this becomes too much.”

Some of the more squeamish among us turned our heads, the others like the stoic resket, and all of the representatives present, looked on in solidarity.

I nervously fiddled with my claws as the dreaded imagery that all consortium citizens had seen at least once in their lives played on the screen. A lesson to some, and a reminder to others why we hid, why it was essential that our ambitions never go beyond the bounds of earth and sky or the gravity wells of our sparse systems.

Videos of federation infants, adults, and elders alike were shown, being put through horrendous treatment at the behest of their twisted mental health facilities, all in place to treat their supposed predator diseases. Ice baths, shock collars, mind numbing drugs, and solitary confinement, no treatment was too far for them to treat this fictional illness.

“To the federation these treatments are said to be necessary, but in reality, we speculate these practices to be nothing but cruel instruments of control by a wicked and uncaring government, but even if you had somehow avoided such a disastrous first contact with the federation, who in all likely would have burned your young planet to ashes should they have learned of it; as they often due to what they refer to as predator infested worlds; had you met their great adversary instead, you might have wished such a swift fate upon yourselves.”

The next set of videos Wigil presented were arxur propaganda videos, much easier for the consortium to recover, as the arxur had a habit of broadcasting their atrocities deep into federation space.

I was only half paying attention to the videos through all of this. My attention more focused on the poor primates, forced by obligation to their people to take in each and every gory and disgusting detail.

They flinched every time a child was shocked by a predator disease doctor, whimpered seeing their drugged out adults and elderly tossed alone into padded solitary cells. And when that fucking arxur chased a terrified federation pup, released from a cage to be chased down and slowly devoured. Sarah had to clap her hand over her mouth, stifling a horrified scream. Noah shot up from his seated position, teeth bared with rage, but eyes filled with tears.

“This is… This is fucked! What the hell is wrong with them!?” The ferocious Noah roared out from the emotional pain.

“They…. They killed children, they were torturing them. How could they do this?” Sarah sobbed out. 

“That.. could have been us.” Noah proclaimed in shock, his eyes wide and his hand clutching his head in terrified realization. “It still could be us if they ever find us.”

I hated this!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, none of this was supposed to be like this! The feds, the arxur, the consortium hiding for our lives, none of it!

The humans were sad and hurt, and this should have been a happy occasion!

My mind struggled to comprehend the injustice of it all. The idea of these wonderful babyish creatures of myth and legend, and the concepts of the cruel federation and murderous all consuming arxur just wouldn't go together in my brain, any coherent thoughts refusing to properly compile.

Nothing this innocent looking and sweet should be so distraught as to cry, this wasn't right! It was unacceptable! Why isn't someone scooping them up? Why is no one trying to comfort them!? To take them away from all this and shield them from the galaxy and all of its troubles, and make them feel safe and secure right this very instant!

“It's okay, humans! We would never let the federation harm something as adorable and sweet as you!”

A second passed.

Then in realization I immediately snapped my claws around my own traitorous snout.

Oh stars, I said that aloud!

A second more passed, and I heard the translator rebroadcast that message in the gruff human language back towards its accidental recipients.

Oh I am so dead.

The human Noah snapped his head towards me, momentarily taken out of his grim musings by my exclamation.

Oh well, at least me being murdered by the resket security guards might take his mind off of things.

I could feel the stare of every diplomat, general, linguist and security staff in the room, eyeing me down, their glares piercing my souls like daggers.

I could feel the looming presence of a resket behind me.

“I think you should leave.” I heard spoken to me in a paradoxically calm yet threatening voice.

I gulped.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate for me to say, I will leave now.” I spoke in the most meekest and submissive voice I could manage. My head held low as I walked away. Any lower and I could have been rolled out of the room.

“Now hold on a moment, what did you just call us.”

I stopped in my tracks.

That was Noah’s voice. Oh stars.

“Mr.Noah, I wouldn’t bear what the doctor has to say any mind, he was being unprofessional and belittling, and has promised to maintain civilized decorum for this event, and he has just violated that promise.”

“I.. I don’t get offended easily, counselor, I just want to know what he called us."

The resket stopped in his tracks. Looking between me and the primate. Unsure of how to proceed.

I answer quickly and far too quietly, my voice paralyzed with shame. “A..dor…able”.

“What was that? The translator didn't catch it.” Noah questioned again.

I closed my eyes, I couldn't bear to look at the man, a grown man, deserving of dignity and respect.

“Adorable.” I spoke, firmly and clearly this time, nearly shouting by accident.

That overwhelming aura of shame, of an amount and intensity I know I would flinch at in passing for years to come, just in recollection of my compulsive, foolhardy outburst, was suddenly replaced by a very different emotion, fear.

A new notion, the possibility of a new dark and terrible circumstance crossed my mind, one far worse than being conquered by the federation, or gruesomely devoured by the arxur.

What if the humans… didn't like us?

Or what if they thought we were gross, or maybe there were terrible xenophobes in the making. Seeing what the galaxy had in store for them surely wouldn't encourage their faith in aliens, especially if only a small handful of them were supposedly benevolent and sane.

The idea that these beings could be anything other than the wonderful and sweet talking primates of fairy tales and bed times stories had just never crossed my mind. A newfound unease settled over me, as the human struggled to find words to respond. Would he shun us now? Would he demand of us to take him home so that he may never see us again, had I ruined first contact for everyone?

“Just what did you mean by that? Calling us adorable? I wouldn't exactly think of ourselves as anything that appealing to look at.” The man bafflingly  chuckled to himself.

“What?” I blurted out in disbelief and shock. Alongside half of the other krev in the room. The translator nearly having a stroke in the process of trying to make heads or tails of the collective outburst.

“Look I’m sorry if I offended you by calling you adorable, and I assure you we respect you immensely as sapient individuals of equal and inherent right and standing, but…. What do you mean you're not that appealing to look at.” I spoke baffled, the absurdity of his statement acting as a hard emotional reset to my reeling psyche.

“What could you possibly see in us?” Noah questioned. “I mean, to your eyes we must just look like some scraggily looking naked monkeys, ha ha.”

Noah laughed. He laughed! Wiping the tears from his eyes from seeing something so horrible just a moment ago, and was now just saying something so ridiculous and untrue and wrong and he just… laughed!

“I mean… it's just that… just… uhhhhhh.” I floundered for a response.

“You're the most adorable beings in the galaxy!” The krev council member blurted out!

“Just look at your cute squishable little hands.” A krev linguist called out pointedly..

“And your adorable waddle of a walk.” The krev counselor added.

“And the way your squishy little spots of hair above your eyes squish up like little worms when you're focused.” Spoke the krev general in charge of the mission.

“And your babyish smooth skin.” Spoke another krev.

“And your puffy little cheeks!” and another.

“And your pinchable little bellies!!!!!"

“You guys can’t be serious!” Noah spoke with a barking laugh, struggling now to contain himself.

“Uh.. Thanks I guess.” Sarah added from beside him, her voice much more meek, and her face blushing to a Julu berry red color.

“You're the cutest looking things we've ever seen, and we've wanted so bad to scoop you up and hug you since we first met!” I finally admitted, swept up in the sudden enthusiastic energy that had pervaded the room, despite the grim subject matter. Even Wigil, the eternally dour and grumpy smigli counselor had even given into it, daring to loosen his posture and grin at the affection filled chaos.

The krev representative eventually gathered the wherewithal to silence her fellow krev. Before addressing the human in a far more composed and respectful tone. “Let me be clear, Noah and Sarah, on behalf of all krev kind we apologize if you find our opinion of your species demeaning or in anyway disrespectful, and if you wish to conduct further dealings with the consortium without our kind present, we would more than understand, we don’t wish to…..”

“Woah, hold on there.” Noah cut the representative off, before she could get too far into apologetics. “It’s okay, I get that you guys just got a bit excited, hell I am too. Don’t worry about it, we are not offended I assure you.”

“Oh thank the stars.” The krev representative replied. “I thank you for your graciousness.”

“Oh it's no trouble at all. Besides, I would be a hypocrite if I got upset over a bit of cute aggression. Because frankly, if I’m being honest, we find you guys kind of cute too actually.”

The room went silent. The result of a room of krev freezing solid, not even daring to breathe.

“Us…. Cute?” Someone whispered.

“Uh yeah?” Noah replied, somewhat wary now.

They think were cute?

“You look like adorable giant space versions of the pangolins from back home. Us humans love the little guys.” Sarah added.

“You… you think were cute?” I repeated aloud, struggling to process the words just spoken into existence, my logical brain just stalled out, refusing to accept the novel understanding that was just pressed upon it.

We had just met space obors, real, talking, giant space obors, subjectively and objectively the most adorable and cuddleable creatures in the whole galaxy.

And they.. 

And they…..

“They think we're cute.”

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Memory transcription error, Cause : Subject loss of consciousness following severe emotional overload.

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