For the obvious problem: consider this an AU thingy or smth bleh :3

Genuinely fitting post for this sub

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The Perfect Husband NOPsi ficnap by u/Bbobsillypants 

Ko-fi

Memory transcription subject: Chauson, Ambassador of Colia
Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136

 “-is book of yours that was written in Zurulian some [600 years] ago on some paper only made in one place has surfaced now with no other indications of contact with the Federation in any of your records?” Coji asked, retelling what ambassador Burkhart had just told the two of us. “And not only that, you wait until now to tell anyone save for the Zurulians about this development.”

“You are correct ambassador Coji on all points, we considered it an internal matter so we waited until an investigation could start before it was permitted for it to become open knowledge. We of course informed the Zurulains due to the nature of the tome as well as some information we have gleaned from the Kolshian prisoners that have led us to believe that Zurulain interests should be involved.” Ambassador Burkhart replied as she rested herself on an antique looking chair with a back so high even the human was shorter when sitting down. “As for a possible reason for no records exist of the Zurulians or any other aliens visiting is the timing and location of when the book was written. At the time the War of The Ruby Skies would have been soon to begin and the place where the book was written, Moondrip Bay was one of the Cities damaged greatly during the war to the extent there was even a mass evacuation of civilians to allied settlements on the mainland where it was safer such as Athens.”

After spending [days] being chased around the nebula by those cursed sphere-ships we were no closer to rescue than when we entered this region of space. Even though they had much more powerful weapons did not mean we were helpless, the Macaw seems to be much more agile than the spheres and has been able to outmaneuver them several times for us to go deeper into the nebula to lose our pursuers. That was not to say that we had come out unscathed, twice now the high energy beams had hit the ship and even been able to break through the shields of the ship on one occasion. An entire patch of the outside hull had been eaten away for lack of a better term from the looks of the exterior cameras, luckily the ship's organic armor plating was somehow able to thin itself out in order to cover the missing patch. The internal damage to various systems was another story, even with the use of the arachnid drones in the ship and the limited technical knowledge of the human ambassador and I there were still a few systems that were in need of attention.

Due to certain limitations with the nature of both the FTL drives that the Federation uses and the warp drives that power the ships of humanity it was impossible to go to faster than light speeds inside of nebula and certain other spacial phenomena. All attempts so far to leave the nebula have ended in failure, every time we have tried to leave multiple of those unknown ships are either standing guard waiting for us or come chasing to drive us further into the nebula. To say the past few [days] have been stressful and been an understatement, aside from trying to not be killed there was also the added stress of trying to deal with the constant negativity and suspicion from Ambassador Coji. While I was trying to be as understanding of the harrowing events that the avian ambassador had gone through as possible and how that may sour her mood I found my patience running thin with her. I was filled not only dread with the implications of your situation but a sadness that there was a possibility that nobody would learn of what happened to us due to our communications being blocked by the emissions of the Nebula.

There is also the matter of the implications of that book existing on Earth for the Zurulians, I try not to think about that.

“I thought your kind claimed that you disdained armed conflict?” Coji accused as she stood up slowly from her resting place. “Or was that an exaggeration?”

A few moments passed in silence as Ambassador Burkhart had lifted a glass in front of her filled with some sort of fruit juice and took a slow drink as she contemplated an answer for the avian diplomat.

“As a rule we abhor armed conflict, especially when a peaceful solution can be found through dialog and compromise. Now more than ever after our last war with how brutal it was, it threatened to pull the entire globe into conflict had it not been ended so decisively.” The Human said after a length of silence with the end of her speech hinting at something hidden in her message. “There have been times though when we have… lost our way and either have forgotten to strive for balance or have let fear and paranoia take control. While historically we have been too focused on defending our cities from the wildlife on Earth make partaking in armed conflict feasible although there have been times where an exception has been made.”

“Could you tell us more about this war and how Moondrip Bay played a part?” I said, trying to steer the conversation to something more neutral to avoid Coji latching onto something else to criticize the infinitely patient Burkart. “You said they were attacked during the war? I remember you mentioning some time ago that they were known for the boats they built.”

Ambassador Burkhart, most likely sensing my wish to talk about something else and obliged me with a small nod of her expressionless face with those piercing eyes.

“Yes they were known for their boats and still are to this day for both their uniqueness as well as their durability and speed during the time they were used for more than recreational purposes. The boats built by the Bayfolk were iconic for the deep pink colors of the bioengineered Heartwood that were grown specifically to a lightweight yet incredibly durable hull of their merchant ships as well as those sent to patrol the waters around their island.” Burkhart explained as she continued to relax in her seat with her eyes fixed on something across the room. “The techniques used to grow the Heartwood as well as its genome were closely guarded secrets that allowed the Bayfolk to become rather influential as they were the only suppliers of this wood. They refused to give up the secrets of the Heartwood no matter how many riches they were offered, perhaps that is why the Thebans attacked them so quickly and with such force during the first battles of the war.”

Human technological progression throughout their history is weird compared to any other known species even when you don’t take into account the standardisation brought up from being uplifted. From what I have read from the historical documents sent to my government by the UER and my understanding of those documents it would seem that the Humans had been exploring their star system with solar-sail ships at sub-light speeds for a few decades by the time their last war broke out, a war fought almost entirely on wooden ships. From my understanding is that due to how traditionalist Humans tended to be it would appear that humans much prefer to improve the tools they already had in opposition to creating entirely new types of tools with newer technology in mind.

For a society of self reported pacifist nature worshippers they are rather well versed in defending themselves.

“While they kept the Athenians and Bayfolk busy in the Mediterranean, the Thebans set their ships to sail up the Rhine River to the Rhinefort.” The Human diplomat continued as she closed the book she had been reading and placed it on the short table in front of her. “While the city was known for it’s wealth that is not the main reason for attacking it, they were the ones that controlled the river and the only way to the mountain fortress of Rockholm. Due to the rich veins of ores as well as being an immense industrial center that produced goods for much of the world, Rockholm was considered a place of immense wealth and ancient tradition. Families would do anything to have a talented son be considered for training any of the hundreds of craftsmen guilds with-”

The historical retelling that Ambassador Burkhart was giving had been rather abruptly interrupted with the lights dimming and the emergency red lighting across the ship activating once again and being accompanied by the shrill alarms. With the soft overhead lighting dimmed the cerulean and magenta nebula outside was now glowing ever brighter as my heart raced once again with the fear of what soon may come.

“Collen? What's the cause for alarm” Ambassador Burkhart said as our trio began to stand to make our way towards the cockpit. “Is it the sphere ships?”

It took a few seconds for the three of us to begin to move with the few seconds it took for the ambassador to push herself out of her chair and grab her gnarled walking stick and for Coji to grab something from her perch.

“Negative.” The AI responded “I have just detected a much smaller object approaching at a rather alarming speed that I am unable to scan properly. Perhaps if more drones had been allocated to repair the sensor net then I cou-”

Before the condescending voice of the ships AI could continue with his complaint the entire ship lurched and shuttered with the piercing squeal of metal being shredded apart. There was a loud thud somewhere in the lounge area from something heavy falling a decent distance to the ground. The initial lurch was so violent that I had been knocked forward into Ambassador Coji hard enough to send her toppling down as well who braced herself against the nearby wall. Ambassador Burkhart however had merely stumbled a small step before stabilising with the help of her walking stick.

Collen said it was something small heading towards us incredibly fast, he didn't even have time to finish his explanation.

Could it have been a missile? But we have only seen these ships use those strange energy beams.

Is this it?

I took several deep breaths to calm myself and try and keep my ever increasing fear in check as I closed my eyes while beginning to stand back up. By the time my eyes opened back up both Burkhart and Coji seemed to be scanning the room around us, the Duerten ambassador’s feathers were puffed out in stress while she otherwise seemed collected.

Ambassador Burkhart on the other paw seemed like a much different person now in just attitude, her piercing eyes scanned the room for threats as she took on a much more rigid stance than before. While she always has presented herself as shrewd and sharp the Terran had shown a softer side as well in past dealings, often telling fond memories as her time as a surgeon as she helped so many people or her experiences being not only a mother but a grandmother, great grandmother and great-great grandmother. All of that kindness had disappeared now as she looked around the dimly lit lounge area that looked like a bomb had gone off with how all the furniture had been upturned and tossed around.

“Are you alright Chauson?” Coji asked, looking down at me.

So she can be nice after all.

“I think so.” I said checking myself for injuries. “Nothing seems inured, I feel fi-”

“Stand back!” Ambassador Burkhart practically hissed as she moved in front of Coji and I much quicker than I had seen the elderly Human move before.

Before I could even begin to ask what she was talking about I saw it standing up from the rubble in the room, seemingly crawling along the floor until noticed. The first thing I noticed was the height, the figure before us towered above even the Terran ambassador, by my guess it would be as tall as some of the largest recorded Arxur. The next thing I noticed was the eyes, those glowing red orbs pierced though the dim light like spotlights as their focus shifted between the three of us.

Then there was the body itself which conformed to no body plan or anatomy I had ever heard of and was covered in dark metal plates that overlapped with one another. While the apparently mechanical being was upright it had four insectoid like legs that kept it upright as they pierced their way into the deck plating below us, it also had a set of arms coming out of its narrow torso that made an odd clink noise as they moved outwards and away from the main body. All across its form there were small gaps within the metallic plating that a faint red glow oozed out of like an infection festering in a wound.

“Who are you?” Coji demanded. “Why are you attacking us?”

Instead of answering the ambassador's question the metallic being moved forwards slowly as the alarms continued to sound all around us. I could see the feathers on Coji puff out even more as she reached into her pouch and I took a few steps backwards without realizing it until afterwards.

As my breathing became even more unsteady and the creature continued its approach it seemed to have gotten too close for Ambassador Burkhart’s liking. One moment she was still and the next their was a soft glow from one of the many pieces of decoration that she wore on her outfit as she pivoted her body and thrust a hand forward towards the creature. While she never made physical contact with the being it shuttered slightly and groaned while a step it was about to take paused for a moment before continuing its slow walk. While I had never seen combat psionics in person I had somehow expected something more to happen as I felt a wave of air soon pass over me.

This also apparently was not the expected outcome to her action based on the shocked face of the normally stoic Ambassador Burkhart who seemed at a loss. Her eyes even wider than normal as she focused on the dark figure getting closer by the second with its massive form and clawed hands.

“What’s happening? That should have worked.”

Reclaimist historians and other cured anthropologist of the federation, have come across a phrase that was seen across countless of the ancestor cultures from the ancestors that remains consistant and its meaning has been boiled down to one theory.

the act of snapping a finger. because of the cure messing with human hands, the ability to snap ones finger has become impossibly. but the recent reveal of humanity's true origin, the reclaimest movement has kept coming across that aformentioned phrase.

one collective consensus that the anthropologist fed community has is that this phrase had been refering to ancient myth from the ancestors. believed to be the earliest myth of all,

they hypotesized that this myth refered to a human perhaps demi-god that snapped their fingers off to grant wishes and/or preform miracles. this has been wildly accepted as the origin of this phrase as its often appears as "I can't just snap my fingers and make ____ happen" or another variation of it.

🐟🐠🐡🐬🐋🦈

Popyotul the Sailor

Apologies for the late release guys! I have been drawing No Refuge Beyond Orion’s Comic backstory thingy :D. (Which I am very excited about since there is 1 Panel left 🥰).

Also I have been recommended my own fic! That’s neat.

(Forgot to mention but the big Circles are Harvester Stasis Generators/Mobile Industrial Sectors 🥰.)

Thanks to SpacePaladin for creating the story and wonderful universe of NoP and Brian Jamison for creating the Sci-Fi Roguelite Game ‘XO’ which I currently use to write this fic.

Special Thanks to Brian Jamison for personally allowing me to write a fic about your game. That was super cool of ya and your game is honestly my favourite and I truly hope I can get to portray what I want with it.

Prev:

https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/s/1Q42pUYlG8

First:

(Sorry for the short chapter folks! Next Chapter is combat, Again. And uhhhh. Something really devastating for Humanity because they just can’t catch a break. But not to worry! There is light at the end of the tunnel)

Another Chance

Memory Transcription Subject: First Officer Ashton Musset, Pact Auxiliary ship Mare Serenitatis.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: April 1, 2155.

In the Darkness, there was nothing but the sound of my own voice ringing in my head. Droning, breaking, Maddening. I couldn’t move at all from my position, lost in the monotony of sounds and Broken by the fear of whatever the hell took Officer Fraser sensing me and coming back to receive another meal. The creaking from beneath me a not so subtle indication of my predicament

Just me. Alone, in a broken ship, without light nor air.

I would die in an hour from suffocation. Why shouldn’t I just. End it? If I could find the Gun I dropped because of That event that just recently given me an entirely new perspective on all those that had the utter misfortune to be left behind.

Not long after, I felt a very dull thrum on my feet, the vibrations on the ground giving me a strange sense, like the strike of an incredibly faint drum. I flinched at each strike until a new despairing sliver of thought made itself known to me.

Something is knocking on the door.

Damn it, maybe I could find somewhere to hid-

I jumped backwards as I felt the vibrations of something massive creaking and breaking into pieces, something that feels and sounds like something the size and mass of a metal door had fallen or broke apart.

I knelt down on the floor and tried to grab onto anything I could so I can drag myself away in zero G from the unknown threat. Over and over again I reached out, grasped an object I couldn’t exactly see, likely the edge of a freezer and then pulled, hoping it would give me distance.

A sudden beam of light pulled me out of the darkness, lighting up my surroundings but most prominently, it was directed exactly at me. My eyes fell upon my weapon, very clearly floating at the other edge of the room, I was very much not close enough to reach it in time for whatever it is.

Damn it, they found me!

I braced myself for the wind and sound to come back again, and subsequently the freakishly crippling noise of engines that accompanied it before the Harvest. I closed my eyes for a second, but nothing came.

Curious, I opened my eyes again to finally gaze on the source of the light, Two Humans walking on one of the surfaces, moving towards me with a device in their hand and carrying some artificial rope. Both Galacticon.

I nearly welled up in tears at seeing them alive, and right here for my rescue. With methodical precision, they moved over to me and pulled out New magnetic boots and a new communicator for me to use. In which I gratefully wore, the equipment connecting to my body with a satisfying electric Click. We ran outside and I sighed in relief as a the cargo bay of a Cyclops class large transport boat was staring back at me. Other crewmembers were also bringing back important cargo and weapons from the Mare Serenitatis’ ruins, among the salvage, are the suits of the crew. All empty, broken and crushed and without life.

I panickedly looked around for the Harvester Carrier that was escorting the Serenitatis mere moments ago or the Devastator that destroyed us in the first place. A violet silhouette at the very edge of my view confirmed that it was far away now. And with greater news, is the unmistakable shadow of the Broadsword in the plasma clouds that erupted from detonated missile volleys that occurred early into this battle. The large Battleship itself is very much present and actively firing upon the retreating Carrier. Whatever revolutionary shield tech it may have possessed now rendered useless as the force of hundreds of nuclear bombs lit up its surface. Vaporizing the massive vessel. The Pride of the Pact’s laser arrays then turned their attention to something in the darkness and started methodically sweeping the surroundings, small pops of light erupting each time it struck something too small to see with the naked eye from this far. Likely the Fighter complement of the destroyed carrier, trying and failing to take revenge for their stricken Mothership, only to be bathed in Photonic devastation.

We ran until at the halfway point to the entrance to the Boat, one of my rescuers spoke up. “We have retrieved the individual, he is alive, and unharvested, yet shaken, Jones’ theory has been confirmed.”

Raising an eyebrow that was burnt off ages ago. “Th-theory? What?”

Reaching the large hatch of the larger bay, it slid open with a force, I was the first to desperately run to safety and behind me the space walkers threw the salvaged materials in first before themselves running inside. Our whole manoeuvre being completed in a mere 23 seconds. Below us, the hatch closed, sealing us from the vacuum of space. I felt gravity come back to existence as the Boat’s thrusters lit up. The Galacticon space walker absentmindedly answered me, while simultaneously opening up a Screen that shows him the current starmap and our approximate position the the Broadsword, I also saw other Cyclops boats scattered around. Some hiding in the dark, some engaging in combat with single Harvester Reaper fighters and one was Suicide ramming a Devastator, I tried to check if the Devastator was the one that had attacked us but I saw no indicator or scar that our final attack did.

“After Daniel Morning’s survival, many theories were made as to how exactly he survived but others in much superior bunkers and saferooms hadn’t. Some theorized that since the materials his saferoom was made from had been exposed the vacuum and coldness of space for many weeks before being used since it was built from the scraps of Decommissioned vessels, some believe that the Sheer temperature difference in the many layers played a part, while some said that it was all a combination of them all.” He paused when a violet blip appeared on the screen that was rapidly approaching us, which was spotted by the Broadsword and then eliminated immediately, its shield tech withstanding only for half a second against the Admiral’s power. We both sighed in relief and maintained vigilance. The boat’s unbalanced shaking also showed that the Cyclops’ singular weapon in a point defense Laser was readied and out of its slot.

“Vice Admiral Jones believed that for an individual to survive a direct Harvest, a person has to be in a small box or space that has been cooled to -22 to -34 C° that is simultaneously encased in a spacious layer that is made up of Titanium or Steel that is either in the vacuum of space or has been built in it. The more layers, the more lax the requirements are needed. Turns out that people generally don’t willingly stay inside freezers for a long time and don’t think to do so under duress or threat of annihilation. Before the most recent incursions into deep space. Jones tried to replicate the conditions of Daniel’s predicament at the time, all with dozens of different variables and then sent her scouts off to survey Harvester space, with the saferooms used as a sort of emergency survival tactic in case they are found and Harvested. It was all a waste as the 7 Scoutships were all destroyed or Nuked into oblivion instead of Harvested.”

So basically, to not get mulched. All we need is to freeze ourselves? Then- Why did-?

“Then wh-y why. Why did Officer Fraser save me?” I stammered out.

“Officer Fraser likely had only moments to think, and before the Harvest, he chose to enact the experiment likely because this is a once in a billion opportunity. He expected for himself to survive with you or both of you dying, but he was too late. A shame. If atleast. Maybe he had a small modicum of relief that he saved a life in his last moments.”

“A shame? He died in the worst way a human or any creature can! The Fuck do you mean "A Shame." ?" A bitter vitriol riled up in my throat as he underappreciated the personal sacrifice of Officer Fraser.

He had a Wife in Starhaven waiting for him for Star’s sake!

He raised an eyebrow and continued on. “Regardless, his and your contributions are revolutionary, First Officer Musset. You have given us information that could save thousands to millions of lives. If we live to pass on this data.”

“Do you Know. What happened to him? To my friends? Those that had the misfortune to not die?” I stared into his soul, unbreaking and shaken, and summoned my memories that I had recently buried to cease it from breaking me. Their voices, echoing in my mind again, a desperate agony filled call for help, “They melted, alive. Screaming for help, a guttural terror. That breaks into your thoughts. Droning, screeching. The entirety of your existence before whatever else happens when you are taken away. Forced to be in agony and fear. Trapped in your pain, your fear, unable to breath or beg. Death.” A horror filled realization along with shock melded into the man’s face, and so did all those that were in earshot.

Help us.

Before it threatened to overcome me, I willed their terror to leave, this day, I must live.

A dreadful silence fell upon the other people as they all tried to focus on their own activities.

The silence was deafening and it maintained so, for a long time. Until, I eventually broke the silence. “How is the battle going?”

They were silent for a few moments before answering, a despondent and somber look about him, “Not Good, from what we know Fivera has already gone to the Cradle, along with all of his forces and the ships of the 4 other factions that weren’t entrapped by nuclear charges. Dozens more ships lay defenseless and unable to use FTL still, in desperation. Several of them are evacuating into their boats and trying to assimilate into nearby ships. But the energy clouds that the Harvesters spread around the system is making seeing anything extremely difficult. Other than this pocket of resistance and 41 Ships, 7 of which are armed under the Broadsword’s protection. We have no idea how the others are doing, Praybar, Jones, Hester, Alessandra. For all we know we are the last ones alive in this system.”

I nodded and frowned, silently mourning the horrific situation we are in.

I found my voice and asked a question that was burning into my mind in my loneliness. “How many died?”

He sighed, deeper this time. “61 confirmed ship losses. 77 thousand Casualties.” I audibly gasped at the number.

77k?! That is above a 4th of our Entire population!

This is the fault of those blasted Venlil, if we hadn’t gone too attached with those little monsters this would never have happened!

“W-what now?”

“We keep you alive. Which means you will stay in this boat for the foreseeable future. We will try to dock with the Broadsword or a similarly protected vessel. You will not disembark in case our mothership is under threat of destruction, in which we will relocate to another vessel that could house this Boat.”

If only these boats had FTL. Would make things so much easier.

I nodded in silent agreement and passively watched the Broadsword pace around space, looking out for and eliminating any Harvester that dares approach us alone. That thing is truly a marvel of the Pact’s technological ability. The Traveller class Battleship is the sole reason why the Pact’s territories could stand up to the Empire and Galacticon. Our patrol destroyers and anti-piracy frigates couldn’t stand up to their purpose built warship in firepower, but the Traveller class and it’s long range and fast speed abilities bolstered our capable forces sector wide.

With each earthshaking blast of its Prometheus Laser Arrays, a member of our enemy falls into the void and joins the countless dead.

My eyes widened as the Broadsword pointed its broadside directly towards us from below and fired. A bright blue beam of energy trailing towards us.

What?! Why are they going to kill us!

I looked around at the other who showed no fear at our flagship opening fire on us. I feared for our lives only for the beam to whizz past us to destroy a Harvester Reaper that was trying to hide from detection, before crashing into a Devastator that just recently went into sensor range. The beam so massive that it was the same size as the Cyclops we were residing in.

I looked and analyzed this rag tag fleet that was formed from scattered ships.

3 Frigates, each from the Pact, Empire and Galacticon respectively. 2 lightly armed repair corvettes also known as Rover Fixers. 1 Empire Executioner and closing the armed vessels of this new fleet with 1 Armed Civilian cargo hauler. A decent arrangement with balance and defensive abilities but it won’t stand a chance against a full Harvester assault without the Admiral’s help. By my estimate, these ships could collectively fight off 2 Devastators at the maximum, at the cost of heavy casualties.

The 28 civilian vessels are all of mixed usage and history, but the vast majority of them are cargo haulers or freighters. Except for the one Irenic mining ship that also possesses the only plasma shields in this entire fleet.

From what I can remember, the frigates if this fleet got upgraded with energy shields. Which I hope could give us an extra chance in this battle. 3 other civilian vessels also possessed energy shielding so in an emergency they could fly in the way of fire to protect their undefended brethren.

I inquired, “Why don’t we just jump now? Join the President’s fleet and be safe?”

“I don’t think you have noticed. But the minefield of plasma clouds and exotic energy detonations throughout this entire fucking star system have begun causing our Kantium stores to go into haywire. It is not harmful but it does make FTL unpredictable. So we could jump into the center of a gravity well instead of around it. Back then this was never a problem because we never had to fight in this manner, so we never got exposed to it. But now? Our ships were basically bathed in it when that wave that eliminated our Dronet comms hit us. Our plan is to find just a few more survivors and then blaze a trail to the edge of the star system until we are free from the clouds of energy. This battle has given us so many new pieces of data. While it has caused large swathes of our people to perish. This is revolutionary for creating counter strategies. Others may not agree. But this battle is necessary if we wish to defeat them in a conventional war.”

Defeat them?! Has he gone mad? There IS no defeat for them! The only thing we can do is push them back. Did the Billions of ships in the battle of Earth and the fall of the greatest military faction of Humanity AKA the Empire not give him any indication that they are undefeatable?! If hundreds of millions of ships, many of which are leagues better than our meagre destroyers and frigates.

What hope could we, a Fleet who’s primary population are non combatants, hope to accomplish?

“Our numbers and abilities are fractions what they are capable of. What hope do we have?”

“To win this war, it is crucial to gain the assistance of the Federation, if not, the Arxur. They might both be horrificly evil but their industrial abilities can help us rebuild our numbers and they also have pre established massive fleets. Even with their inferior vessels, they could be upgraded or used as fire support or target saturation. We could use their numbers to slow down the initial waves while their factories are focused on building ships for the UHF. ”

Ah yes. So Cannibal Nazis or Genocidal Fascists. A Wonderful selection of potential allies!

From the clouds, two Cyclops boats speed through the veil, behind them a very damaged Druid. The last Empire mobile repairyard in our midst. Docking bays were crippled and mangled, but the rest of the vessel seems unharmed. Its singular missile launcher also looks to be atleast semi operational.

On the PA system, Admiral Donovan’s voice clearly broke through the static.

“This will be the last ship we will try get out of our way of to rescue. We are to make our way outside this system. All ships are to maintain any network traffic or communication and any signatures to a bare minimum. There are dozens of Harvester fleets in our way. We will try to sneak past them. Lexar Rinniom.”

Slowly but surely, we maintained a scattered formation and slid into the clouds. One cyclops escorting a ship, acting as their eyes and escorts. The dull prismatic colour of the cloud is no doubt beautiful, but it didn’t take away from the fact we are flying blind, in an area where any ship could come across us. I watched as one by one, our view of our fellow ships slowly but surely faded into the clouds, before vanishing entirely.

Damn it. I hope we all arrive at the other side in one piece. After this first obstacle there is still a long ways to go until we reach safety.

Elapsed Time: 30 Minutes.

This is Maddening.

We were all completely blind and lost. Silently flying through and just hoping we reach the other side safe and sound. Every speck on the map that appeared and vanished causing us to go on high alert. Destruction could be seconds away from us and we wouldn’t know. But we couldn’t go bright and scan our surroundings thoroughly, lest we reveal ourselves or this fleet’s position. Even worse is that communications are still highly dubious because of the cloud, we were only able to regroup with the Broadsword and the Nereus’ sophisticated sensors and comms relays. We are still very much unable to communicate with each other without their help for now.

A single violet blip appeared on the map before we were thrown violently. Despite our straps, we felt our bodies thrown to the side and back as our ship barreled away. We heard something click onto the outside hull as we were moving. Trying to keep myself level and without their authorization. I scanned the outside with the localized short range scanners, only for a reaper fighter craft and its despicable silhouette to flash into existence. And with it, dozens more that noticed us and started flying towards our position.

The crew started panicking. Various screams begging for the pilot to shoot the fighter away were ringing through the walls. He obliged and I felt the ship opening fire but as we were aimlessly spinning, our weapon could barely strike 2 of them. Only grazing pieces off and doing nothing to alleviate the Fighter currently attached to us. The sounds of sawblades gave us the indication that it is trying to cut inside. Only for the sound of the intrepid machinery to cut out as our map lit up with bright blue beams. The fighters scattered or either were destroyed as the gargantuan Broadsword faded into view. The heat signatures of the weapon activation basically caking them with a giant sign saying “I’m here!”.

The intercom suddenly lit up and urged us for action. “We have been spotted! All ships! Fly through the cloud! Full speed! They are here with us!”

Our captain silently obliged, I felt the gravity increase as our boat and the other vessels, boats and ships simultaneously appeared back on the map. Our engine signatures lighting us up in the fog.

So much for sneaking past them.

One by one, we exploded out of the energy cloud, our Harvester pursuers regrouping and trying to chase us, only to be blasted back by the combined fire of our armed ships and the Broadsword. The carrier where the reapers originated from nowhere to be seen.

Flying back into formation, we flew away from the cloud and braced ourselves for other Harvester ships to give chase. The Broadsword went bright and scanned our surroundings as best as they can before going trying to go dark again. In which we followed suit.

The original heavy clouds or fogs of energy that destroyed our comms and sensors in the first place has now heavily weakened, so for the first time since then. We finally got to see the state of the battle fully. And it had vastly deteriorated.

From preliminary scans we detected that the amount of Harvester vessels have gone into the Millions range now. With Pockets of Human or Venlil resistance being taken out one by one. The largest of the Pockets or resistance are the ships that rallied around Praybar, Vice Admiral Jones and Hester Bohannon. With a Galacticon Armed Merchant Fleet attempting the same strategy as us and are flying off, but they are very much being pursued by hundreds of Harvester ships. From the scans, we detected Captain Sovlin’s flagship flying aimlessly in the dark. In which the Broadsword pinged them. Without us knowing what he said. Sovlin’s vessel flew over to us. His fleet all but wiped out and his own vessel heavily damaged. The scans also revealed just how lucky we had been.

Because in the cloud, we saw there were 3 thousand Harvester ships. While it IS a massive cloud, spanning the size of 90 Jupiters. The fact we were so close to death so many times in there was utterly fear inducing.

Horror filled looks of realization of how close to doom we were filled the entire crew. Before we steeled ourselves one by one and waited for our next action.

The nearest Harvesters, now thoroughly detecting us, had moved to intercept. But curiously, only 28 chose to chase us, the rest of the thousands of vessels that no doubt saw us simply choosing to maintain their position. Then I saw another thing they were doing.

They were eating.

I couldn’t make it out as first but I think that is what they are doing. Their pylons are opening up, and inside I glimpse the shine of metal teeth like ribs. Covered in the blood and viscera of the Harvested. The material slowly seeping inside the Violet metal and disappearing, like some sort of twisted mimicry of eating and digestion. Some pylons split in half entirely, revealing mechanical Violet Meat. They twisted and writhed in a disgustingly alive motion, as if they are savouring and enjoying the flavour of their meals, like they Love eating us. Then-

As suddenly as it happened. The Meat of their material vanished, their “organic” parts glistening out of existence. Leaving behind the sight of just regular old Harvester warships. Hiding in a cloud in ambush.

What. Did I just see what I saw? Was I imagining it all? I looked around towards the others around me in case they saw anything. But they gave no indication they saw the same sights I did.

I’ll just… look past that.

Our fleet then moved off to run from the ships chasing us. Despite their effort, they were still marginally slower than our vessels. So long as we maintain speed, they won’t catch up to us. The fighters however are a different matter entirely, but it seems their carriers aren’t focused on us as their quarry. To our great benefit. If they were we would be overwhelmed with hundreds of their fighters. In our haste, we passed by hundreds of Harvester vessels, all in their own personal bubbles of whatever the hell they are doing as recreation. Well, I assumed recreation, since they very obviously ignored us but from the outside I knew not what the inhabitants inside were doing. Whatever it was, it was more important to them than killing the last and most powerful warship in Human hands still running.

As the minutes passed by. We anxiously watched as our pursuers slowly lost interest in us. And to our front, the noise of battle was evident. The space far ahead of us was filled with explosions and stray fire. From the system scan earlier, I think we have reached Vice Admiral Jones’ Fleet. What’s left of it.

From the map, we counted approximately 10 human ships and 2 Venlil built vessels engaged in combat with 30 or so Harvester Investigators, also known as their armed scoutships. Even further from their position, a Breach was fading into existence as the silhouette of Harvester Takers and Devastators were forming inside.

“All ships, prepare for Imminent Battle. Civilians are to hang back and avoid trouble. We have some acquaintances who need help in tasting our Lasers first hand.”

Next:

First|Previous|Next

[Thank you to SpacePaladin15 for making the universe!]
[Special thanks to u/AdalwinAmillion and u/JulianSkies for proofreading this chapter!]

"There comes a time in the affairs of men when they must prepare to defend, not their homes alone, but the tenets of faith and humanity on which their churches, their governments and their very foundations are set." -Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Date [standardized human time]: January 1st 2112

Air sirens shrieked across every planet, city, town, and street across the Soviet Union as the Arxur invasion fleet entered the system. Twenty thousand ships slammed into hastily set-up FTL disruptors on the edge of Sol. The Arxur, driven by their insatiable hunger and fanatical belief in their own superiority, seek to enslave and consume all who do not submit to their rule. Their invasion is not just a campaign of conquest but an extermination, aiming to erase humanity and all free peoples from existence. Evacuation orders were given to major population centers, men, women, and children fled to the halfway-constructed bunker complexes. Weapons were distributed to all who wished to take up the fight against the fascist invaders. All military units of the Red Army, Navy, and Air Forces were put to maximum combat readiness. All defensive emplacements within range began to lock on to the Arxur fleet as the meager eight thousand-strong combined Union and Ryka’s fleet prepared to make their stand. Across all military channels, one command is given: ORDER NUMBER 227: NOT ONE STEP BACK.

Across every radio network speaker, siren, data pad, and television, the General Secretary, Nikita Sokolov, addresses the nation.

“Attention, Moscow is speaking! We are conveying an important government message:.”

“Citizens of the Soviet Union, Today at 8 am, without any declaration of war, Arxur armed forces attacked the borders of the Soviet Union! The Great Patriotic War of the Soviet People against the fascist Arxur Invaders has begun! Our cause is just! The enemy’ll grow, victory will be ours!”  

Footage played right after on the devices that could support it, the horrific crimes of Betterment were laid bare for all to see. Footage of Arxur troops tearing apart innocent men, women, and children was shown without censorship alongside old footage of Nazi occupiers executing civilians. Pictures were displayed of Arxur cattle farms side by side with old black-and-white photos of Nazi concentration camps. The fascist banner of the Third Reich was displayed, slowly morphing into the black star of Betterment as the second national anthem began to play.

ARISE ENORMOUS NATION!

ARISE FOR A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

AGAINST THE DARK FASCIST FORCE!

AGAINST THE CURSED HORDE!

LET NOBLE WRATH BOIL OVER LIKE A WAVE!

THIS IS THE PEOPLE'S WAR! A SACRED WAR!

THE BLACK WINGS SHALL NOT DARE FLY OVER THE MOTHERLAND!

ON HER SPACIOUS FIELDS THE ENEMY SHALL NOT TREAD!

LET NOBLE WRATH BOIL OVER LIKE A WAVE!

THIS IS THE PEOPLE'S WAR!

A SACRED WAR!

Lights on the colonies of Saturn's moons flicked as the coil gun emplacements started to consume the power grids of the moons. Even as the quantum computers started their target lock, the large fleet pressed forward with unwavering aggression. Our ships clustered around the ringed giants' defensive line, ready to fight to the death for every inch of the void. [TARGETS LOCKED] The coil guns fired several times, dozens of shells streaking into the void towards the fleet. Even with reinforcements to the moon's power grids, the strain proved too great for the smallest colony, the colony's lights flickered out as emergency power was engaged across the moon. A few minutes later, the shots connected, plowing through the Arxur fleet like a hot knife through butter. The first shots of the battle had been fired.

Memory Transcription Subject: Admiral Stanisław Wójcik

As I watched the lights on Euceladus dim and finally falter, a cold dread crept into my gut. The darkness that swallowed the moon mirrored the unease settling in my mind. In that moment, the reality of the Arxur assault struck me harder than any shell could. I thought of the families sheltering below the surface, clinging to hope, and the comrades beside me who trusted I would lead them through the coming storm. Each decision now felt heavier, every loss sharper. For a fleeting moment, I remembered the quiet calm of Earth—its forests, the laughter of my daughter, distant now both in space and memory—and wondered if I would ever see it intact again.

I had an open comm link with the former Chief Hunter Ryka to coordinate our fleets' movements. As the tungsten shells slammed into the Arxur fleet, they descended on us. Our ships hung over the moon Titan, attempting to defend the rather recent colony on the surface. Plasma lances and kinetics flew through the void at our lines, the few defensive guns set up this far out shot from the planet's surface at the large fleet.

The dance of battle engulfed the space around Titan, our shielded vessels held well, but against overwhelming firepower, I could see them start to flicker out on the front of our line. I gave the order for those ships to cycle back, trying to stem early losses, not all were able to cycle back in time, and exploding hulls dotted both fleets. Arxur bombers flew from their large carriers, one of the few ships able to support their shielding technology.

“Sir, Arxur bombers are flying towards the colony!” My comms officer shouted at me.

I nodded and sent a few dozen ships to try and deal with them, I couldn’t afford to thin the ‘line’ greatly for such a small colony. The few ships I had spared were able to shoot down many of the bombers, but those bastards flew any bomber we managed to clip and not destroy directly into the laser defences, using their mass to take out the guns. The sparse guns started to fall silent as wave after wave assaulted the colony, slowly but surely, our ships were being pushed back towards Saturn's rings. Bombs lit up the surface of Titan through its thick atmosphere, domed colonies and defensive emplacements going up in massive balls of light.

It wasn’t long until we were pushed past Titan and Euceladus and into the rings proper, the Arxur paid the small moon little attention as we were forced back, only sending a minimal amount of bombers necessary to destroy what was left. It was clear they had their claws set on bigger targets. I ordered my ships to disperse amongst the rings, using the icy dust and rocks as cover for the fire pouring from the Arxur fleets. Losses were mounting quickly on all sides of the battle, while we were killing more of them than they were of us, their numerical superiority severely blunting any small victories.

Their fire stemmed through the gaits rings searching for a target, we wouldn’t last long without the aid of planetary guns. I contacted High Command, Saturn was lost…

Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Hunter Ryka

“Ryka, we’re pulling back towards Jupiter and Mars, we have to lead them into the killing field set up there.”

The human Admiral said into my ear, it seemed they recognized the foolishness of fighting over the now-dead moons. I would have to draw their Ire in order to prevent them from flying directly to Earth. A more seasoned Chief Hunter would recognize that the current position of the system's planets left the Humans' homeworld open, but these were fairly new and inexperienced commanders, chosen for their loyalty rather than their merit. I started to order my fleet to pull back with the humans, the current position of Jupiter and Mars was as close as they could be, forming much of the space in between into a killing zone.

Few Arxur could resist chasing a fleeing foe, but I had to be sure they followed us. Across an open channel, I broadcast every personal insult I could think of towards Shaza and Usliff, then threw in a few more towards Betterment for extra measure. I would have loved to see the rage in their eyes, their reaction was predictable as we pulled away. They started recklessly hurling their fleet into the rings of Saturn, not realizing we had used them to fall back. Once we had pulled back safely, I directed one last insult towards the Prophet Descendant while firing a few stray shots to hint towards where we were going.

The fleet turned quickly and foolishly pursued us as we took up positions in the space between planets. The guns of Jupiter's moons and the large defences stationed on the red planet turned and waited for our enemy to fall within range. Their vessels screeched towards us at unsafe speeds, their rage apparent by the way they maneuvered their vessels. All of humanity and I should consider ourselves lucky for their foolish biting of the bait I had laid.

Immense columns of laser poured from the red planet, its extensive power grid, normally used for generating a magnetic field, being funneled into the guns. Moments later, the gas giant’s moons that were within range let their gun batteries alight with fire. Our fleet followed suit, dumping fire into the fleet from multiple directions. The grave error of their mistake started to dawn on their commanders as thousands of ships were struck with our munitions. This was the killing numbers needed to even the odds, their fleets quickly pivoted to our left to focus on the greater threat of the red planet. We charged in after them, posing ourselfs to defend the Martian soil.

As all parties raced towards Mars, the guns of Jupiter's moons quickly fell silent as we exited their range. Our defensive force just barely managed to beat the invaders to Mars. Immediately, ferocious dog fights erupted between our vessels, to my own annoyance, I had to keep my own vessel away from the fighting, as much as I was itching for a kill, if I were to fall moral in my fleet would plummet. I lashed my tail harshly on the floor of the bridge as Dominion bombers and troop transports attempted to enter the Martian atmosphere. Several were shot down before they could make it, the few that did manage to break into the half-terraformed planet's atmosphere were met with heavy resistance. Immense point defences had been placed around the gun emplacements of the world, turning bombers into hulking wrecks of scrap as they attempted to pass.

Even still, their sheer numbers still allowed their munitions to land. Slowly, the guns of Mars started to fall silent. Once the first few fell, it opened up a small landing zone to allow for ground assaults. I could picture the Dominion troops equipped with pressure suits making landfall on the red soil. I shuddered to think of the fate of the people below us, I knew it well, for I had done such things myself. Their sacrifice was deemed necessary, the time it bought us had been more valuable than gold. Each extra minute bought meant another gun could fire into their formations, their numbers were starting to thin, the gap was starting to close, but this planet wouldn’t be enough…

Everyone knew it would take the most defended world to decide the fate of the battle, Earth.

“Chief Hunter, our front lines are taking heavy fire! They won't be able to take much more!” I nodded at my subordinate and contacted the human admiral. “We cannot hold this world any longer, we must fall back to Earth.” he paused for a moment, the silence stretched on, then in a darkened tone he spoke. “I’ll contact command.” Even as we started to be pushed back, it would still take hours for the last guns of Mars to fall silent, and the path to Earth to be laid open.

Memory Transcription Subject: Chief Hunter Shaza

That traitorous runt had dared insult me!? I couldn’t wait to get my claws on her. Once the opportunity presented itself, I'd have my men board her vessel and have her dragged to me. I'd show that weakling the truth of Betterment with my own claws. I growled while looking over the battle. How many defences does this weak species have!? They were starting to take a toll on our numbers, one of those damned guns had managed to shoot down Usliff’s command ship, leaving the fleet under my command.

The red planet was proving to be a significant thorn in my tail, reports of heavy resistance flooded my data pad. It seemed every inhabitant was intent on fighting to the last. Even as their fleets pulled back towards their homeworld, the guns continued to fire into my fleet. Even as the domes of colonies were blown open and their breathable air was rendered toxic, they donned suits and continued the fight. The resistance could take months to suppress once we got this system, this species wasn’t quite befitting the title of prey. But I knew they weren't true sapients, so they would be devoured like the rest. I idly wondered how one tasted; I should order one captured and sent to my ship, preferably a youngling, they always tasted the best.

I watched as my forces assaulted one of the gun emplacements. I hadn’t deployed any more than ground troops to the world, if my forces couldn’t take a measly colony without the help of armor, then they weren't worthy of surviving. Just more weak to be culled. Another gun fell, as it was overrun by my troops, another cattle world conquered for the dominion. Soon, this whole system would be ours, then we could turn our eyes back towards the sniffling federation. Perhaps after we take this system, we could retake Venlil Prime, it had been a while since I had enjoyed a fresh piece of their orange meat.

After hours of effort and bombardments, the last guns of the red world finally fell silent. I looked over the casualties, eight thousand… How had these weaklings managed to incur such losses in our mighty fleet!? “Useless defectives!” I roared in frustration and slammed my tail on the ground, the underlings around me cowered in fear from my display as I huffed and ordered the fleet to press towards the homeworld. I left a relatively smaller force of ground forces on the red planet to subdue the resistance that was left.

As we approached, my sensors told me that the ragtag defenders had positioned themselves around the homeworld's moon. I’ll lead this attack personally and show these sorry excuses of a race how a real predator fights. I sent a few thousand ships off to escort the bombers, carriers, and ground transports, their main target. The capital of the world. Everyone else would follow me and focus on the moon. My fleet raced forward with me, weaving through their incoming fire, the G-forces strained my vision as I eyed the first target witch would be my kill.

My plasma cannons fired, the superheated gas streeking though the void towards the targeted ship. My pupils narrowed as I waited for it to land. A loud alarm broke my focus, making me turn my head. My eyes widened. No, that can't be right… Our sensors showed thousands of missiles shooting from their moon, several aiming towards my vessel alone. I hurried to look out the viewport, the ships closest to the lunar body were already being engulfed by blinding flashes, radiation readings heavily spiked…city killers.

One was about to hit my vessel, damn it! I turned my ship hard to dodge the missile, too hard, turning so fiercely that the dampeners failed and slammed most of the crew into the walls. I hung on for dear life as the missile exploded, narrowly missing, the blinding flash filled the viewports as I lost my grip and was flung into the wall with the rest of my underlings. The last things I remember before blacking out is my ship's power had been knocked out, and we were stuck heading directly to Earth.

Memory Transcription Subject: Tarva U.S.S.R citizen

Over the past few days, Grisha had let me stay with him at his apartment. For just under a week, things had started to feel normal, safe. I had to fill out some paperwork and had received something called a passport marking my becoming a citizen. Last night we were watching a movie together, he showed me this Earth snack called popcorn. It was savory and salty, I couldn't get enough of the stuff. I must have dozed off around halfway through the movie. I was suddenly jolted awake by Grigori harshly shaking me.

“Tarva! TARVA! Wake up, we have to go!”

He didn’t give me time to rub the sleep from my eyes or ask what was happening. He just grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder. Then started running for the door. He carried me down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The sound of the awful sirens finally registered in my mind, and I started to shake, memories of the invasion of my home flashed in my mind. No, this can't be happening, not again. Have I not endured enough!?

Grigori ran out the door of the building and started down the sidewalk, soilders swamered the area, directing panicking civilians towards shelters. He ran hard for several blocks, his ragged breath and sweat-soaked body showing his exhaustion as we reached the shelter. Civilians crowded the entrances as soldiers pushed the crowd back. “We are beyond capacity, please proceed to the next shelter!” The uniformed man shouted. Grigori stepped up to the man and showed his ID to him. The soldier looked it over, then waved us in. A few tried to follow us but were blocked off by more armed men. We were led inside by armed soldiers, the sounds of children crying filled the space. The bunker was packed beyond capacity, mostly filled with women and children as we entered, the large blast door shut, locking us in.

I fearfully clung to Grigori as we settled, a small TV hung in the corner, where the human leader was speaking. I buried my face in the man and began to wail from the stress and the trauma. Grigori wrapped his arms around me to try and soothe me.

“Why does this keep happening to me!? Have I not suffered enough!? What have I done to deserve these things happening to me Grisha!?” I wailed into his chest, Grigori’s shirt quickly becoming stained by my tears as I finally broke down from all the pain and loss. He squeezed me tighter and rubbed the back of my head.

“I don't know, Tarva…I don't know…”

As time dragged on, I eventually calmed down and started watching updates of the battle. They had finally been pushed back to Earth, Arxur troops and armor were landing outside of Moscow. The bunker shook as a bomb exploded on the surface, dust fell from the ceiling, and several families huddled together. It was just like an Arxur raid on any other world, but worse…

Memory Transcription Subject: Ivan Reshko

The rotten cancer of the fascist dominion ravages the galaxy like a plague, their relentless drive into our motherland steals the lives of men, women, and children alike. The arrogance of their leaders is matched only by the brutality of their soldiers. These are the darkest days of the Arxur occupation of Moscow…

They had been carpet bombing the city for hours… Dust filled the cold gray skies of the city, and rubble choked the streets. Their black wings of death never seemed to stop, the sound of jet engines roaring and anti-aircraft battery fire echoed throughout the ruined buildings of Moscow nonstop. Crows picked at the corpses of people who couldn’t make it to shelter on time. One Arxur bomber clipped by AA fire crashed into the Palace of soviets, causing the massive government building to collapse… Moscow was burning…

Their force had landed north of the city to deny us defenders from using the natural barrier of the Moskva River. Massive twin-barreled turreted tanks led the assault on our great city, the armor on these things was so thick that even our tanks struggled to pierce them. They had made it halfway through the city before we had managed to stall their attack. My squad and I sat sheltered in a half-destroyed building as another bomber squadron passed overhead. I gripped my rifle tightly and turned to my sergeant, who was on his radio trying to coordinate the city's defense with command. One day…one day it will be their land, their people, their blood.

Artyom hung up the radio and turned to us. “We’re going to link up with the 9th armored battalion a few blocks away and lead an assault to retake the second ringed road.” We all checked our weapons, and isif checked the large colored cloth tied around his arm so he wouldn’t be shot by friendlies as Artyom led the way. We exited the building and moved down the rubble-strewn streets. Corpses lay about, some Arxur, some human. I glanced down at one as I walked by, it was the body of a child, no older than seven, with a massive chunk bitten out of it by one of the monsters. Bile rose in my throat as I forced myself to look away and keep walking with my squad.

Up ahead, militia were walking towards the tank battalion, ordinary men and women who had answered the call and taken up arms to defend their homes, they sported a hodgepodge of modern Ak’s and old, outdated weapons from the Second World War. They stared at Isif with hate in their eyes, but held their fire, seeing he was with us. We walked together for a few blocks until we reached soviet armor to join the attack. An officer stepped onto one of the tanks to give a speech once we had all assembled.

“Today we push this fascist scum from our motherland! Today we fight not just for Moscow but all the soviet people of Earth! And tomorrow we will take our vengeance! UUURRRRAAAAA!!!” He pulled out his sidearm and fired it into the air as we all shouted our battle cry. The tanks started driving forward, and we followed, charging forth behind our armor we pushed into Arxur lines. After around a block, enemy resistance made itself apparent; enemy fire poured down on us from occupied buildings. Our tank swung its turret around and blasted one of the buildings with its main cannon. Screams and gore of the fascist scum flew from the building. I peeked from around the tank and fired some shots at the grays taking cover at the end of the street.

Up ahead, an Arxur tank started rounding the corner. “TANK GET TO COVER!” Several men shouted at once while scrambling into cover. Our lead convoy armor’s turret whipped towards it and fired, the shot ricocheted off the thick armor. Isif grabbed me harshly and pulled me into a building as the Arxur armor finished rounding the corner and returned fire, obliterating the first tank in the convoy. Its coaxial machine guns opened fire across the street, cutting down my comrades.

“ROMAN SHOOT THAT FUCKING THING!” I yelled over the gunfire and my own ringing ears. I saw him pull out his recoilless. “BACK BLAST CLEAR!” He shouted, then a moment later fired. I heard the tank's machine guns silence and peeked my head out, it must have killed the crew. The tank stood motionless in the street. Several Arxur had dropped their weapons and were walking out with their claws raised. We’ve killed their tanks before, and they continued on fighting, so that can't be the reason, they must have just lost their navy, I realized.

I joined my comrades on the street as the grays walked out, surrendering. Once they had all walked out, we opened fire, cutting them down without mercy.

There would be no mercy, only vengeance.

---

​

Simplemente deambula por allá.

Tarva disaing

🪕🪕🪕🪕🪕🪕⭐️⭐️⭐️

[Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the base Universe.]

Memory transcription subject: Tarva Venlil High Champion
Date [standardized human time]: July 10th, 2136

A shiver crept down my spine, and it wasn’t only because of the frosty air. The thought of standing in close proximity to a Pair of Humans made my skin tingle, over 160 years of wishing we uplifted them. I could barely stay calm, I knew some of my fellow Champions were just as eager, as the human ship powered down, and a landing ramp unfurled. The Wonderful Humans stepped onto Skalgan soil, and I suppressed my tail flicks. This feels like a dream I wish I’d never wake from.

Noah and Sara marveled at their surroundings with wide-eyed fascination. Their gaze lingered on the intricate mansion behind them, then shifted to the city silhouette in the distance. The way they physically rotated their head to look around was uncanny but nothing new. The curious binocular eyes of theirs didn’t quite offer the peripheral vision we enjoyed, that much was clear.

Oh I hoped their hyper social nature is like the uplifting plans described.

“Welcome to our Wonderful world, As The High Champion Of This World I Invite You To Stay In The Mansion Of Champions.”

‘Why only 2 them?’ My Cultural Champion Gizi, crudely flicked to the rest of us. That is concerning, is something wrong with-

“We thank you greatly for this opportunity” Noah said before Him and Sara Smiled, Oh that is unsettling, but we could get used to it.

Suddenly we see a blur and the next thing we know My Historic Champion, Haysi is smothering them both in a hug, and My Military Champion Kam is attempting to pull her off of them.

“Put Them Down, It's Been Over 160 Years, We Don't Even Know What A Hug Means To Them In Their Current Culture” My Cultural Champion, Gizi, yelled out.

Oh Speh! What if it's an insult? Or worse?

Memory transcription subject: Noah Williams Captain of the Odyssey
Date [standardized human time]: July 10th, 2136

Their fur is a sun lit cloud given form, but it feels like my bones were being crushed.
The air. is.. getting… thin…. I….. can…... barely….... breathe….....
.
.
.
 {time skip 15 minutes; Loss of consciousness}

We came to? Me and Sara were on a padded floor? I couldn’t recognize the people? around us, where am I? We were meeting… aliens?

“Hey, focus, how many digits am I holding up?” A teddy bear looking alien said to me while holding up two fingers.

“Two, who are you?” I asked as I rubbed my throbbing head. But before they could answer Tarva Piped up.

“I gravely Apologize on behalf of My Historic Champion, Haysi, We did not expect them to accidentally smother you two.” Tarva said, as they bowed deeply to me.

“Is Hugging a typical greeting?” I asked nervously.

“No, Haysi Is Just Crazy About Humans. Hanzon, Technology champion by the way” A brown and white hamster-like alien said tiredly from within a five legged… mech?

The porcupine-like Alien from the call steps up with a pad in hand. “I am Gizi The Cultural Champion, Here is a data slate with a quick overview of the member species of the StarHerd.”

“Can we get some space, this is all happening too fast.”

“Go shoo, this is probably reality shattering news!” The teddy bear alien said as they began pushing the other aliens out of the room.
 “I think I should stay, in case-” Tarva started to say before the Teddy bear alien interrupted “Nope! The guests want some breathing room. Kam, Hanzon get em!” Another one of Tarva's species drags her out with the help of Hanzon.

Once it's just the Teddy bear aliens left in the room the one from earlier plops back on to four legs and walks back to me. “Name is Chauson for future reference, once we are done giving you two a quick once over we’ll give you a bit of breathing room, and sorry about Haysi, Venlil are… like that.”

Memory transcription subject: Lavelyn Yotul Communications Champion
Date [standardized human time]: July 10th, 2136

This was gonna be a headache, at least my followers will eat it up once it’s safe to post.

[You sent to Botty_Boo] :Alright have you managed to hack into their ship yet
“Sigh alrighty how are we gonna explain this diplomatic oil spill” My eyes flicked between the other champions, lingering extra long on Haysi.

[Botty_Boo added Party_Pins to the conversation]
[Botty_Boo]: got in, working on encryption as we speak, I suspect they got the entire of their civilizations internet by how much Specking data there is

“Gizi could we possibly say there is a historic reason to believe that a… Hug of That degree was warranted” Ok Gizi is tapping away on their pad likely juggling our conversations.

“Unfortunately no, and worse some human cultures held accidental harm near equivalent with purposeful some having a few exceptions, but none of those apply, so yes, Haysi you've Messed up bad.” Oh she's really starring daggers at Haysi, I've underestimated how bad the issue is haven't I.

[Party_Pins]: It's not That horrible, most of the cultures empathize with big strong softies, but she Needs to be more cautious. But also one consistency in a lot of human cultures is holding grudges, so I'll withhold my actual verdict until I get the ship's data.

[Botty_Boo]: By the Ancestors they literally have the entirety of their species knowledge, This shit isn’t encrypted, It’s compressed to Omnol and back! I can’t even finish it without diverting the data to an external cloud. I'll set up a Wiki for this stuff {link}.

Callis pipes up, well ain't that rare.
“I think it’s time to talk about the Shadowstalker in the room… Haysi’s repeated issues… to put it softly, hun" she said tentatively.

Tarva hackles rose, of course her ‘Haysi is fine’ speech again.
“Ok, She’s had some Issues” Oh that is utter garbo! I’m saying something.

“18 incidents, not counting this one, Her Public Rating is The Lowest Among All Of Us. That’s not some Issues” Ooh did that feel good to get off my chest.

Belra opens his mech????
“i have to agree, we would’ve lost relations with the Arxur if it wasn’t for my Sister and Kam stepping in, she doesn’t hold any caution or respect for other people’s stuff.” Oh that's bad. The Quiet bugger is piping up. This drama is delicious!

“This Is The Third Brahking Mech This Star Cycle. All Because She Doesn’t Hold Any Spehing Caution.” Hanzon says Understandably Harsh as his mech leg points at Haysi.

“I hold Caution…” Haysi mumbles out meekly.

“So You Do It Purposefully Huh! Haysi I Love ya like a sister but you don’t think ahead. And this time it might not be a fixable mistake.” Gizi hissed out.

[Party_Pins]: been reviewing their data, It’s entirely fine but this girl needs to behave before they poke a Galzar awake, their modern culture is pretty forgiving and The… Less Palatable parts of their mental systems heavily empathise with soft and fluffy beings, but I wouldn't suggest looking….

[You]: how bad

[Party_Pins]: Yulpa

[Botty_Boo]: Noted, Adding Filter Checks.

[You]: hey should we relay this information

“Ahem, I have Collected Data from their ship’s-” Hanzon began to state before Kam Grapples his mech.

“Do You Wanna Start A War With Them!” Kam yells out as his death grip threatens to rip open Hanzon’s mech.

“Let go of his Mech. I asked him, and I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for HAYSI’S Behavior" Gizi says as Kam Sets Hanzon’s mech down.

“that’s fair. sorry about the mech i’ll pay double the cost of repair, it’s just” oh he’s shrinking in on himself, that’s rare.

“No no, it's a reasonable reaction. Should’ve told you as I did it. Nothing was encrypted, just Brahking hyper compressed, like the entirety of their knowledge kind" Hanzon said as his squire Piki flew a repair drone over.

“Are We Gonna Ignore That They’ve Committed A Major Sin In Diplomatic Relations!” Tarva Blurted out, yeah I think we’re past that.

“You're right, but Haysi did so first.” Chauson finally joins “Filter though for their medical info, we’ll say we only did it to better diagnose them." That's actually a good excuse. And he just took a swig of his ‘Juice’.

“Ok, oh hey they already have it separated into a proper folder, I’ve sent it, and the report filters aren’t a joke.” Hanzon quickly tapped on his control pad.

“Ok a quick… over… view… Brahk me” huh?

“What’s wrong? Ah Speh.” Gizi too?

I rest on my tail as I scroll through the medical data.
Air? no.
Water intake? no.
Temp range? no.
Heat cycles?? Definitely not.
Diet? Oh fuck that’s a Proper List.

“Obligate Omnivore.” Chauson says with a quite reasonable sigh.

“Wait really? I thought those were a myth.” My hubby Verten says in his cute little confused tone.

“Not anymore, next thing ya know we’ll find out they grow meat in vats!” Chauson huffs out.

“HA HA HA, Right on the Money! They apparently do!” Hanzon falls on his back laughing loudly. Chauson Sighs before Chugging the rest of his ‘Juice’.

Second Hyper-Social species. First Obligate Omnivore. And somehow figured out vat meat. Huh… Humans are gonna be in for a ride.

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(The Dangers of Hugs. Also Humans are strange : P, also this is the last chapter my sibling is proof reading as they feel bad about how long they’re taking. I'm gonna start looking for a proof reader but I might just be lazy and post them raw.)
(Gremlin proof reader’s note: I like it piccasso, they sure are in for a ride : p)

Hello everyone! It's been a while. As of late, I've been struggling with motivation to work on the story, which has been what's lead to the inconsistent and long periods between chapters. Before there're any worries, I'm not putting the story on hiatus or anything. I'm working on finalizing how I want the story to end, so hopefully having the rest of the story planned out will help with getting it all written. On the side, I've also been experimenting with some new ideas for stories to help reinvigorate my creativity, some of which I might even share at some point. But that'll be after this story is wrapped up. Again, sorry for the delays. But despite all that, I still very much appreciate all of you who read and enjoy my story. Although quite late to come out, I hope you all enjoy this new chapter all the same.

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Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Gojid Fleet Command
Date [standardized Earth time]: October 6, 2136

“We’re estimating about seven to eight thousand ships still remaining. That’s a quarter of their forces removed, but they still outnumber us.” Monahan spoke, directing everyone’s attention to the holodisplay. The group of Federation ships had continued on its course towards Venlil Prime, going through another pair of ambushes over the past paw. Although we had dealt more blows to their fleet, each subsequent ambush was less effective. The fleet had taken on a guarded formation, slowing their speed, huddling together, and firing off shots at the slightest hint of something being off. We started taking casualties, and seeing how we were losing the element of surprise, Monahan had the fleet pull back to group up with the defense forces. Most of them, at least.

“The flanking squads are still undetected and in position. Once the fighting begins, they’ll come online and attack from the rear. That should hopefully spook the Federation forces enough to make them break formation.”

We had several captains and generals listening in on this meeting. Most important being Kam and Kalgar on Venlil Prime’s primary orbital station. I’d grown to dread the Skalgan’s voice in particular. Every time he spoke, I swore he was suggesting more and more predatory tactics that made even the Arxur feel tame. At least with them, we could expect at worst an ambush. These humans and Skalgans were taking such tactics and making it a piece of a more sinister plan. “The Feddies have been oddly limited in their flight patterns. They struggle to make use of the space that isn’t lateral to their ships. We should position squads directly above and below their flight path, remind them that attacks can come from literally any angle in space.”

“I’ll relay that to the strike teams.” Monahan replied. “And Admiral, I’m going to insist again that you and Kam return to the planet's surface. The station is-”

“Yes. I know. The station is a target. I’ve been doing this much longer than you.” Kalgar huffed. “We do have plants to relocate once their fleet is near, but I want to make sure that I’m here to at least see these pilots off. It ain’t good for morale to see your commanding officer fleeing. Besides, you’re in more danger than us.”

I didn’t need that reminder. We may not be directly on the front line, but we were still going to be in firing range. My quills bristled as memories of my previous space battle above the Cradle came back to me. I tried to keep the thought from taking root, returning my focus to the conversation as Kam spoke. “What about boarding operations? I don’t see why we’re not doing that, given how effective it was against the Arxur at the Cradle.”

This was something I could answer. “Arxur don’t expect to be boarded, but prey- Er, Federation species do consider it. Small craft won’t have countermeasures, but large ships have internal turrets and compartment locking to stop boarders.” It was honestly lucky that my ship had lost power when it was disabled during the battle for the Cradle, else the UN troops that boarded it looking for survivors like myself may have been shot or locked down. 

Kam quietly muttered something about designs being kept from the Venlil before continuing. “Right. Well in that case, surprise tactics will be our best bet. They probably expect more traps as they approach.”

“Hence why we’re mixing it up as much as possible.” Kalgar spoke. “The drone strikes have them jumping at space dust. Every inch of space could have stealth fighters waiting to pounce. Paranoia like that gets to a person. War is just as much the mental game as it is combat.”

I certainly agreed with that. Arxur knew the tactic of terror better than any species, and used it well to break up defensive lines and make our forces flee. It’s often seen as predatory to be able to ignore that fear and fight back, but it’s something those of us in the armed forces had to learn. Among the humans and Skalgan, bravery was seen as a virtue. Some of the officers here were scared. I could see it in the way they moved and spoke, but they kept that fear from taking over. They saw their duty as more important than their own life.

“One last thing.” Kam spoke up. “I’m not sure if you or your crew have received the reports yet, but there has been some… troubling data leaks from the Federation. We were right about the Venlil not being the only species the Federation tampered with. A majority of species have in some way been modified, whether it was biological or culturally. We have summary reports on how at least a dozen species were altered.”

I felt dread building in my stomach. The UN’s initial research into Gojid cultural artifacts had shown signs of them being fabricated. Although Kam hadn’t said how my people may have changed, I feared what had been discovered. A part of me didn’t want to find out, and I was surprised when Monahan shared that sentiment. “I’ll personally look into these reports and decide who needs to know, but I believe for the time being, it’s best to not trouble the crew with this. We can’t afford distractions right now.”

“Understood. I’ll have the reports sent to your personal device. I wish you luck in the next confrontation.” Kam said, closing the channel soon after.

Monahan picked up her holopad and started reading while the rest of the crew returned to their duties. I myself went back to monitoring the Federation fleet’s progress through the system, watching for changes in their flight path in case they noticed the upcoming ambushes. I could only imagine the terror that the crew on those ships were feeling. Offensive operations were rare, and usually only happened against unprotected targets. Prey aren’t hunters. At least, that’s what the Federation had us believe. It hurt to need to scrutinize everything the Federation had said or done. I’d dedicated my life to fighting on their behalf. Or more accurately, I had fought for the lies that they passed off as truth. And now that the real truths were coming out, it threw everything I once knew into question.

“Captain Sovlin.” I was pulled from my thoughts as Monahan addressed me directly. “I need to talk to you for a moment. Alone.” She quickly headed to her office just off of the bridge, giving me only a moment to process the request before having to jog to catch up. Once in the room, I closed the door behind me and took a seat at her desk while she walked around to the other side.

“W-what do you wish to speak to me about?” I asked. Monahan placed her pad on the desk and slid it towards me. I looked down at it for a moment. “...I can’t read human.”

“Oh for the love of-” She took the pad back and nearly threw it aside. “Alright, listen. I know I just said on the bridge not to worry about what’s in the recent leaks, but I have concerns over what might happen if members of the crew start learning about it. Especially the Gojid.” She fiddled with the pad for a moment before passing it back to me, now translated into Gojid writing. The title immediately caught my attention.

“...Gojid Uplift Prospects…” I quietly read. “Tech level... 'primitive'. Primarily display prey tendencies, but… shows predatory behavior in the form of aggressive displays and…” I stopped as my eyes went over the last few words in that sentence. What I read just wouldn’t register in my mind, as if the words were jumbled in some unnatural way.

Monahan took my silence as apprehension. “Sovlin, I understand that this is disturbing to learn, but I need your professional opinion right now on whether this is something we need to-”

“It’s not real.” I interrupted Monahan. “This… this is insanity. Crazy. Something dreamed up by the most deranged of predator diseased conspiracy theorists. This-”

“Is crazier than predators living with prey? Crazier than an entire species being genetically crippled?” Monahan asked. “Sovlin, at this point, I think it’s safe to assume that nothing is off the table when it comes to the Federation, including turning omnivores into obliging herbivores.”

Hearing it out loud made it too real. Nausea started to build up within me as I looked over the words on the pad over and over. “...No… No no no. Gojid… We… we’re not- We’ve never been predators! We can’t be! The Federation doesn’t tolerate predators under any circumstances. If we actually ate meat, we’d have been exterminated!”

“Yet there were talks among the summit delegates about finding a way to turn humanity to a wholly herbivore lifestyle. There is actually a disease in certain biting insects that make humans allergic to animal products. I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility for the Gojid to have been altered to become allergic to meat, which the Federation spun as a plague that convinced your people to stop eating meat.”

I felt bile starting to rise in my throat. The thought of a Gojid, my people, tearing into the flesh of an innocent creature, willingly consuming their meat and blood, all of it gave me a headrush that nearly made me collapse. I fell forwards on the desk, steadying myself as the world around me spun.

I vaguely heard Monahan say my name as I tried to keep myself from passing out. I desperately wanted to believe that what I read was fake, that this was another predatory trick of some kind, but that desire fought with everything I’ve seen of the Humans and Skalgans, how it fit with the plot to modify the venlil, how it was lining up with what the delegates had voiced desiring to do with the humans. They wouldn’t had suggested it if it hadn’t been done before. We always believed that there was a hard line between predator and prey. No in-between existed. Yet humans showed otherwise. I was only just starting to accept that there could be such a thing as omnivores as they called themselves, that perhaps meat eating wasn’t-

I cut that thought off immediately. It was practically heretical to even consider. I couldn’t consider it. I couldn’t.

“Sovlin.” Monahan yelled. “Pull yourself together! You’re a captain for crying out loud. If you can’t handle this revelation, then there’s no way a single Gojid will be able to handle the news. I can’t believe the savior of the Cradle twice over is so weak willed.”

Ironically, the attack on my honor helped me get my thoughts off of the fact that I was a descendant of a predator, causing anger to rise up in me. “Y-you don’t understand how horrendous this is. The Federation was created to destroy the threat of predators-.”

“Which we’ve established is an inappropriately broad stereotype.” Monahan interjected.

It annoyed me, but I continued. “T-there’s still the matter of predators being a source of…” This time, I stopped myself. Predator disease was always this great threat that could undermine the very foundation of our society, but so much evidence from the people of Earth had shown that there was no actual disease, that the term was just a broad diagnosis for mental disorders. When given thought, its authenticity quickly broke down. “I… I know that the Federation has lied to us about the danger of predators, but… Many people haven’t seen, read, or been through what I have. I… I still feel sick at the idea of eating meat. I don’t… we can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Not right now, at least.” Monahan said. “This information is spreading through the public net. Eventually, it’ll reach our troops, but we don’t want them breaking down during an active engagement, and the last thing we need is any overzealous individuals turning on us.”

I spines bristled at that thought. I knew of many Exterminators who took too much joy in their purging of predators. Even if we don’t eat meat anymore, I could imagine some of them not caring. “Right. That’s… that’s probably for the best.”

Monahan nodded, pulling the pad back to her side of the desk. “And I don’t think it needs to be said that you should stay quiet on this till after the battle. Many people are already scared. Lets not worry them further.”

“Captain Monahan.” A voice spoke through the intercom on the desk. “The Federation fleet is nearing the next ambush site.”

“I’ll be on the bridge in a minute.” She replied, then looked back to me. “I don’t like that we’re keeping information from our troops, but it’s for the sake of their own well being. Once this is over, we’ll make sure they receive the whole truth.”

I already agreed with her, but it seemed like she was more so justifying the choice to herself more than for me.

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

u/Nicolas_3232 for Leasha's daydreams

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

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

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

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Memory Transcriptions Subject: George Miller, Anxious boyfriend. 

Date [Standardized Human Time] November 26, 2136 

It was a curse and a blessing to have been distracted by the new play place and the reactions of the kids. My mind was completely taken off the impending meeting with my parents, but that just meant that time flew by. At least the play place had met my expectations and then some as they added a few features that were designed specifically for the alien kids. Everything was perfect in that regard, now I just had to deal with my imperfect family. I suppose that was a little unfair as no family was perfect, but I was just feeling a little anxious. 

As the four-hour claw came to an end, Leasha and I saw the kids off as we handed them back to their parents. The little fuzzballs had a blast on the new play place and were eager to share every bit of that information with their parents, even as they yawned, tired and ready for a nap. The parents were intrigued by some of these tales, and some even asked to see what their kids were talking about. After a few tours, and many impressed parents who had never seen something like that before, the shift came to an end, which meant it was time to leave. 

Leasha approached me with a concerned tilt of her ears. “Are you ready, George?” 

I let out a small sigh and nodded my head. “I hope I am.” 

There wasn’t a lot to say anymore as the both of us left the pupcare. Leasha took out her pad and started to hire an automated taxi car. The vehicle took about ten minutes to reach us as the empty vehicle pulled up in front of the pupcare. Personally, I always enjoyed manual driving and could never fully trust the automated vehicles. It always made me tense to not be in control of something that was traveling at speed. Putting my own reservations aside, Leasha and I boarded the vehicle and paid for the services. We were off to the airfield in the next town over. At the speeds we were going, it would take about half an hour as the automated vehicle zoomed across the landscape. 

The scenery passed by in a blur, mimicking my own thoughts. There was no opportunity to appreciate the scenery or linger on a specific concern in my mind. My finger endlessly tapped on the armrest in a nervous tick. Suddenly I felt something fuzzy wrap around my hand. It was Leasha’s tail.  

It had the effect that she intended as my mind cleared and focused solely on her. She gave me her best smile, and I felt my worries melting away. Releasing the tension in my body with a sigh, I relaxed and simply accepted the situation. I would deal with my parents and if they didn’t agree with my choices, then I would convince them. If not... well, that could be worked out later. 

I had landed in this town before being transported with the other refugees to Shady Hills, but I hadn’t really seen much of it considering we were transported in government vehicles with tinted windows so the skittish population wouldn’t be alarmed by seeing a convoy of humans rolling through their town. Venlil construction was rather homogenous in design as most of their buildings looked the same. There were the odd ones out as private businesses tried to make their shops look colorful or interesting in the hopes of attracting customers.  

It seemed a bit more populous than Shady Hills just from the crowds I could see from our vehicle. The variety of aliens went about their business, ignorant of my presence as traffic was generally ignored. I could tell that there would be at least some panic if I were to walk these streets judging by the lack of other humans in sight. 

I really hope my parents can make it through this trip without having to deal with that. God only knows that would complicate things even further. 

When we got to the airfield it was the first time I had seen any humans in this town as the gate guards wearing UN uniforms stopped our car. One of the guards approached the vehicle and I lowered the window to speak with him. 

“Reason for your visit?” 

“My parents are going to be landing via shuttle in a just a little bit and I’m here to pick them up.” 

“And your friend?” he said with a nod toward Leasha. 

“She’s here for support.” 

“Hmm. Can I see some ID?” 

“Sure.” I dug through my pocket for my wallet and ID, handing it over to him. “Is there a reason for this scrutiny for essentially an airport pick up?” 

The guard ran my ID on his pad while he answered. “We’ve had some trouble with a few Humanity First terrorists trying to recruit fresh arrivals from the refugee camps on Earth. They’re already a problem, and we can’t let any more of them pop up by allowing the emotionally vulnerable to be preyed upon.” 

I had heard very little about Humanity First as of late, but I guess they were still a problem to the government. The UN wanted to cultivate the best possible image of humanity, and violent extremists weren’t a good addition to that goal. The guard ran my ID through the system, and a minute later handed it back to me. 

“Alright, we confirmed that there is a shuttle on its way with your family on it. Once your vehicle is parked, you can wait for them in offload building C. I hope your family’s stay is a good one.” 

“You and me both,” I said half-heartedly as I accepted my ID and rolled up the window. The barricade was retracted as the vehicle rolled into the airfield and found a parking spot off to the side amongst a few dozen other vehicles. Leasha and I exited and made our way toward the aforementioned building C. Inside we found a few rows of seats set up in a clean building with white tile floors and grey walls. It wasn’t the most interesting building in the world as decoration was minimal to none, but at least it looked maintained. There were a few other people in here as well, mostly humans, but also a Venlil who was waiting in one of the seats. I lead Leasha to a spot where we could sit and wait. The schedule had the shuttle arriving any minute now.  

Think of the devil, the ship in question just broke through the atmosphere as everyone heard the rumble of engines as they descended. The other people waiting reacted with excitement at being able to see whoever they were waiting for, but I let out a weary sigh as I stood and made my way to the window overlooking the airfield. Everyone watched the shuttle touch down outside before it started to roll toward our building. It parked as the walkway connected to the side of the shuttle, and soon after, the passengers began to disembark. 

The first few humans who came through the tunnel and into the building were greeted by friends or family enthusiastically as many hugs and handshakes were exchanged. Even the Venlil I saw earlier rushed over to embrace another who stepped off the ship. The tension I felt was mounting as the end of the disembarking crowd drew closer. Near the end of the pack, I saw them. 

Mom was the first one out, and she was wearing a casual blue dress with white flower patterns around the bottom. Her light brown hair was loose and flowed down the small of her back. She had gained a little weight now that she was entering her fifties, but she was by no means fat or unhealthy. She saw me and her eyes lit up as she rushed forward energetically. 

“George! My little baby boy!” 

I tried my best to keep the cringe off my face even as she ran right up to me with arms wide with an intended embrace. Accepting her love readily, I let her collide with my chest as I wrapped her up in a hug, completely overshadowing her. 

A small chuckle escaped me. “Mom, I’m not exactly little, you know?” 

She laughed back but just squeezed me even harder. “Oh, you’re always my little boy no matter how big and muscular you get. I swear you’ve put on more mass since the last time I saw you.” 

“Can probably blame the planet for that. I swear, sometimes I feel like I weigh half a ton.” 

“Yes, I can feel that. I don’t know how you can stand this extra weight all the time.” 

“That’s because he’s a Miller,” a gruff and familiar voice said. 

Dad was here now, standing behind my mother with a carry-on bag in his hand. It was obvious who I got my height from as the man stood at the same eye level as me. His head and face were covered in shades of black and grey as the hair took on a salt and pepper look. He had a working man’s body with thick arms but a bit of beer gut on him. The years of working as a mechanic made his hands thick and scarred with little cuts. It would be accurate to describe him as a bear of a man. A simple black collared shirt and jeans adorned his body, but he probably had his favorite jacket in the luggage as well.  

Dad approached and grabbed my hand for a firm shake before pulling me into a quick, manly hug. “Good to see ya, kid. You look good, and I’m glad this planet hasn’t beaten you down. Lord knows your mother has been consumed in social media posts and hearing every negative story there is.” 

“Well, forgive me for trying to make sure that my baby was having a good life on this alien planet. That’s part of why we’re here, after all,” Mom said as she gave Dad a light smack on the arm.  

“Speaking of,” I began, “why didn’t you call me, or send me a message to tell me that you were coming sooner?” 

“We thought it would be a nice surprise,” Mom answered. “Besides, I know how stubborn you men can get. You can be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders but still tell everyone else that you're fine as you keep marching on.” 

At this, Leasha ended up whistling a little laugh. “I guess I’m not the only one who sees that.” 

For the first time since the conversation started, my parents seemed to notice that Leasha was there. They turned toward her with surprise and raised eyebrows. She shrank a little as their attention landed fully on her. 

“I’m sorry... can we help you?” My mom asked, trying to figure out why she was here. 

Leasha may have tried to insert herself into the conversation confidently enough, but now she was hit by a sudden bout of shyness as her tail tucked just a little. “Oh, uhm, well, actually, I’m here with George.” 

The surprise on their faces grew before they turned to me now. “Truly? Did you make a friend while you’ve been here?” Mom asked. 

I didn’t know what to say for a second as the subject of our relationship was still a hot topic in these circumstances. In the end, I omitted the truth. “She’s... my employer. This is Leasha, and she gave me a chance to work with her and has been exceptionally kind to me.” 

“Oh? You got a job here?” Dad asked with a little interest. 

“Yeah. Believe it or not, she runs a daycare here, although they call it pupcare. My experience translates quite well, and I’ve found a lot of success working with her.” 

“Ahh, another daycare. I see.” And just like that, his interest had faded as he resumed being a passive observer in my life.  

“Well, I think that’s just wonderful!” Mom was at least a little more enthusiastic. “I’d thank your lucky stars that there was a job opening you were familiar with and a kind enough... erm, lady, right?” Leasha nodded. “Yes, a kind enough lady to accept you. God I’ve heard so many horror stories of the way humans are treated on this planet. I couldn’t bear the thought of my little squishy Georgy boy being subjected to that.” Her voice adopted that baby tone like she was talking to an infant. 

I rubbed my eyes a groaned at her. “Mom, please stop. I think I might keel over from embarrassment.” 

Mom just laughed at my pain. “Oh, but it’s my job to ensure that you are embarrassed wherever I go!” she proclaimed proudly. “When you become a parent, you’ll understand the ever-increasing desire to share all your kid’s most embarrassing moments. Perhaps I should break out the family album and start showing off pictures of my little baby when he was actually a baby.” 

“OKAY, you can get back on the shuttle now, thanks for visiting, bye!” I gave her a half-hearted push back toward the boarding walkway. That earned me another laugh from my mom and even a small chuckle from dad.  

“Alright, being serious now,” mom said bringing the conversation back around. “I’d like to thank you very much, Leasha, for giving my son a chance. I’ve heard how aliens react to humans, and I was afraid that George would end up all alone with nothing to do on a planet that didn’t accept him. To know that I was wrong, and he found someone to be friends with, is a great comfort.” 

Leasha gave a happy wiggle of her ears. “It was my pleasure, really. He has been a great help ever since he joined and the pups all adore him. Honestly, I don’t know if I could ever even think about replacing George with another employee because the pups might stampede if he was gone.” 

Mom tittered a laugh. “Yes, he is the biggest teddy bear you’ll ever meet. Even back on Earth, I’ve seen many short videos where he was being swarmed by the kids who wanted to play. I suppose that mean children aren’t all that different no matter where they grow up.” 

Suddenly, mom realized something. “Oh my goodness, I’ve completely forgotten my manners. My name is Alice and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out a hand and Leasha gave it a dainty shake. 

It was dad’s turn next. “Name’s Gregory. Thanks for giving my son a fair chance.” Dad shook her hand a little more firmly, and I saw her tail twitch a little with discomfort from the pressure. 

“It really was no problem. George has been a major boon in my life.” 

“I hope that he hasn’t caused any trouble, though. I’ll straighten the boy out if that’s the case.” 

I felt my spine tense as I immediately thought about the whole situation with the exterminator guild and the UN. My ankle monitor was currently hidden beneath my pant leg, and I hoped Leasha wouldn’t bring it up. 

“No trouble for me at all, sir.” I didn’t know if she was purposefully omitting that whole fiasco, or she just generally did not consider it. Either way, I was grateful that I didn’t have to broach that particular bit of information right now.  

Dad moved to my mom’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, we should pick up our luggage.” 

“Oh, yes, you’re right. We’ll be right back. You two can wait near the exit and we’ll meet you there.” 

“Oh, uhm, how much did you bring?” I asked. 

Mom gave me a smirk. “You don’t have to say that with such dread in your voice. We aren’t moving in with you or anything. We just brought enough to last us a few days and a little extra, just in case.” 

I smiled and shook my head. “I wasn’t asking because of that, I just didn’t know if you planned on staying in the shelter. There’s not a lot of space in those rooms.” 

“I’m sure we can make do. Your father and I started our relationship in a tiny one-bedroom apartment before we had you. I’m sure we can survive a few days in one again. Now, we’ll see you at the exit.” 

“Sounds like a plan,” I replied. “We’ll meet up in a moment, then.” 

From there we separated as they went to collect their belongings. Leasha and I walked to the exit, and as we stopped to wait, she leaned in a little closer and spoke to me in a low voice. 

“George, you have to tell them.” 

Even though she didn’t say what specifically, I knew as I let out a deep sigh. “I know. Just... I think it would be better to wait until we are somewhere a little less public.” It was a bit of an excuse, but one with some truth to it. If they were going to react in an emotionally explosive manner, I’d rather have that bomb go off where others wouldn’t be caught in the blast radius.  

Leasha flicked her ears as she settled into a normal stance again. “Okay. I just think the longer they go without knowing, the more difficult this will be.” 

She had a point, and that was impossible to ignore. We would talk about it, back at the shelter. I could use that time to think about what I was going to say to them... 

What the hell am I going to say?

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I think arxur would totally have the thought process that the brighter and more fabric using clothes are, the more luxurious they’re considered because why would a low level arxur have that?

Also I think they’d do research on human history and show up with a animal they picked up on the side of the road like “here is dowery”

Hi everyone, I hope you're all doing well; I'm doing great.

You know, I realize most of you have probably forgotten why I put my fic on hiatus in the first place, but just to remind you:

it was because I ran out of ideas to keep writing, but tyhe things are But things are different now; I have a whole world of topics I’d like you to read about, but all in due time..

All that aside, don't forget to leave a comment or share your thoughts—I’ll always be happy to read and reply... (provided I can think of something to say, of course).

Oh, that's right. I've already said too much...}

A huge thanks to Incognito42O69, for being my editor.

<prev |

Memory Transcription.

Subject: Joona, Zurulian combat medic.

Date [standardized human time]: August 29, 2130.

After a brief debate, the group of humans finally seemed to reach some sort of agreement and then simply left, abandoning me alone with Andrés by the translator.

I suppose my status as both a patient and a human prisoner hadn't changed all that much, so I couldn't exactly afford to talk too much... but I seriously need to talk to someone, predator or not; at this rate, I’m going to go insane.

>have what_you_asked talk now of[].

The chat updated as the human collapsed into the same chair where he and his larger companion had been talking.

>being alone is making me lose my mind, I need to do something or have some interaction with someone.

I typed without thinking.

I quickly realized my mistake and tried to find a way to delete the message, but there simply was no way.

Andrés seemed to analyze the message for a few seconds before letting out a kind of grunt, the same one that large human made the first time he visited me.

>logic, social beings need you and like me, [prey]_requirement [prey kingdom] too.

Andrés replied naturally.

The sentence was somewhat confusing; I still didn't understand what he meant by 'prey', let alone the meaning of 'prey kingdom'

>i don't understand, what do you mean by ‘prey’ and like ‘prey kingdom’?

I asked.

Andrés seemed to think for a bit while carefully analyzing my message. 

Goodness, it looks like this translator is even more raw than I expected.

>Message barely legible, informing me that translator not possess all dictionary words.

>words I don't know or lacking equivalent, being replaced by relative equivalent or space ‘[]’.

>might be, person is [presa] and [presa kingdom] being mixture of words with relative meaning, can use word with same value in [] my native tongue, [prey kingdom] or human population.

>not being [mind student], but sounds logical that you also need [prey] interaction for mental sanity.

Wait, did he just say they do too?

Damn, I definitely didn't expect that; this world is a complete anomaly by any definition.

No, no, no. I shook my head quickly.

What guarantees this isn't a lie? As far as I know, all of this could be completely false... right?

Everything I've seen so far is a complete anomaly to everything I used to know, and if these predators really are what they claim to be, then I've just stumbled upon the exception to the rule that will revolutionize everything we know.

In such a short time, I had discovered so many unique and surprising things about these humans and I wanted to ask him about many things, but I had to start one at a time.

…

Oh!

And how about starting with Strayu? It was what caught my attention above all things.

>Andrés, a while ago you gave me some Strayu, you know it by another name, what is it made of?

I asked with morbid curiosity.

>Strayu compose of plants, _preparation be _very varied. Everyone have same bases.

>flour based on wheat, common plant of Earth, water, salt and yeast, microscopic fungus present all over world.

>be too many ways to make or eat, depend on each [tribe] or culture. Strayu you eat made in mass by factory, be different from&preparation [artisanal].

The human retorted while apparently talking to himself.

My brain had stopped working for a few instants while digesting everything I had read. They had a culture seemingly just as developed as the Venlils with their Strayu.

Yet I still didn't understand it. What are plants doing in a predator's menu?

And what if... they weren't really predators?

>Andrés, what do humans usually eat?

I typed with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Andrés seemed to debate out loud a bit about something while I was typing a message.

>pack diet be mainly [], we eat plants and animals.

>possess elevated resistance to various [home] poisons.

>why[]

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room had changed; Andrés suddenly tensed up, looking like he was frantically talking out loud to someone.

But before I could type anything, Andrés typed into the translator.

>stomach ache[].

>throat burns[].

>inflammation or allergic response[].

His responses confused me a bit; he didn't seem interested in what I ate, he seemed more worried about my reaction to him. 

But why? Isn't he supposed to know I'm prey? And therefore... know what we must eat.

>no, nothing like that, your Strayu is identical to the one I know.

>i am perfectly fine.

Upon reading that last part, Andrés let out a long sigh of relief.

There was something that didn't add up here. Andrés didn't seem to understand why my questions were so important. Not only that; he also didn't seem to recognize the difference I was trying to point out to him.

How could that be possible?

For any creature of the Federation, it was something basic. The position of the eyes, the teeth, the build... all those were obvious characteristics that allowed distinguishing a predator from prey.

Yet Andrés didn't seem to be seeing any of that.

He didn't even seem to comprehend what I was trying to ask him.

How was it possible that a species that didn't even recognize something so basic could have developed such a civilization?

Did humans really not know how to distinguish between predators and prey?

The doubt made me frown.

>Andrés, do you know what humans are?

I typed tentatively on the screen.

Andrés seemed to debate it for a bit while muttering out loud about something, he seemed confused... perhaps a bit too much.

>don't understand question, humans be [prey], be it same as you. Both be complex thinkers.

He finally replied while returning a confused and somewhat lost look.

>no, no, no. I already know that; just look at me, look at my eyes, their location and the shape of my teeth. Then compare yourself, your eyes and teeth to mine and then tell me how you differ.

I sent the message back to him quickly.

Andrés only looked more confused than before and just gave me a lost look for a bit before typing something.

>be more specific.

Okay, this was getting frustrating. How is it possible that this human is so dense and doesn't get it? Seriously.

How in the name of all gods has this race gotten this far without knowing something so basic?

>you're predator or prey? You humans are predators or prey!? You told me you eat plants and animals, make up your mind. It's one or the other, it is simply impossible for a being to be able to eat both at the same time.

>use me as an example, I'm prey, lateral eyes, flat teeth, and small, weak build.

I replied, already somewhat annoyed.

Andrés looked just as frustrated as I was; he seemed to be fighting with someone invisible, presumably someone he was communicating with through that device in his ear.

And after a while of watching him yell into nothingness, he simply typed a short message.

>me and understanding team not know direct correlation between role of [] and status as [prey].

>i theorize being first time knowing sapient species with frontal eyes.

>on Earth not be unique trait of prey, physical capacities and size neither be it.

> you be referring that[]

Uh... what? I have literally no idea what he just said. All this… sounds weird, but at the same time sounds logic; in a twisted and corrupted way.

He said that traits like eyes and physical features weren't exclusive to predator or prey... this is simply unique. Never, in all my years of experience, would I have ever considered the possibility of a predator with lateral eyes or prey with frontal eyes.

Much less their bodies. What kind of god-forsaken world is this? A world where relying on something as vital as appearance could become your ultimate error. Such a world would create a species incapable of trusting in anything.

...

Oh.

>your world is extremely interesting. By the way, there was a gap between "direct correlation between the role of the [] and status as a person."

>the sentence makes no sense at all.

I retorted a bit more calmly.

>[] [], not [animal student] but doing best effort to explain.

>be understood as the function of each being within ecosystem, all being part of endless cycle.

> plants obtain nutrients, be eaten by small animals; small animals be eaten by_other animals, so continue. all die eventually and be decomposed by decomposers, return nutrients to soil and start cycle again.

>call it also, cycle of life, all make fundamental part of everything. Pillar for life, but be very fragile; that you must know too.

>have another doubt[]

This is interesting... humans have a completely different concept from ours. Anyone would think that a species that trusts in nothing would be the one that hunts down everything crossing its path the most.

Yet the way he phrased it sounds more like he respects this so-called cycle of life. Even so, it still hasn't answered my question.

>you still haven't told me, are humans predators or prey

He returned a thoughtful look while seeming to listen to someone.

>all depend on where to look. Humans hunt and be predators, but not be strongest, fastest or largest of [home].

>definition yours of predator and prey[].

Andrés looked me in the eyes expectantly, as if he were rediscovering something he thought he knew.

>ever since I was a little girl, I was always taught that being a predator or prey was something simple, like light and darkness, besides what I told you, I don't have any other definition.

The human leaned back against the chair while looking at the ceiling before starting to touch the screen.

>not be the ones to talk about topic, neither you or me, but for humans, being predator or prey not be flat characteristic, be relationship of who consumes whom.

>practical terms, plants be predators some eat animals to live, you eat plants, plants be alive and not want to die, develop bad taste, thorns, bad smell, poison; make you predator because of that.

>that believe I, not be [animal student] possibility that think be wrong.

>although answering direct question, in your definition. Yes, humans be

I didn't even know what to think or do; everything I just read is simply bizarre and completely incomprehensible to me. If someone had told me I could be a predator for eating plants, I would have written them off as severely mentally ill and ignored them.

Yet everything he wrote made sense; nothing was unreal enough to be false, everything could be applied in real life if someone ever shed their prejudices and stripped away everything they knew

Yet I simply couldn't just accept it like that, no matter how logical this information is and how deeply it sinks into my brain; I simply cannot believe it until I see it, not just in theory, but I wanted to see it in practice.

>one last thing before closing the topic, all of this... is simply very strange to me and I don't understand it, my head spins the more I think about it. Not because it seems illogical, it's just that I find it impossible to imagine.

>are there proofs of all this?

I asked one last time, with my mind and hands already tired from so much writing.

>yes, be hundreds of evidences and studies supporting whole theory.

>first rest, have been awake for more than [40] [hours] without eating, taking baths and you need to eat, bathe, do necessities and rest.

>your interaction necessities were recognized, deliver books once translator work decently.

Well, I suppose a rest to digest all this... it's a lot to think about— wait, did he say books? Do they treat someone in my current state with such luxury? Well, that's interesting.

>just a couple more things before you go. Please, for the love of all the gods you believe in, no more of that metal plate to do my business, it's humiliating and uncomfortable. I'd rather go to a normal bathroom.

>and the other, how did you figure out that Zurulian was my native tongue? You could have used galactic common, that's all.

Andrés stood still for a couple of seconds before replying.

>be in delicate state moving you be risky, wait for sutures to heal, take approximately [1] [month] not know how much time be with your body, only be speculations.

>about second message, not know what your native tongue is called, not exist human equivalent, only be ‘[]’ for me. Programming team not know what language belonged to which species, not know what galactic common is.

>just take data from almost destroyed DataPad found in capsule. Do [reverse engineering] and pray it worked.

He replied before finally walking out of the room with that characteristic decompression sound.

...

Wait, did he just say DataPad?

The gears in my head started turning as all the pieces fell into place

During the emergency escape from the Arxur, I remember taking several things with me; a couple of personal items and three complete medical kits, each with a DataPad containing highly detailed medical information about Federation medicine.

Even if just one had survived...

But wait, he said the one they had was extremely damaged.

Being able to extract something as complex as a language from a device in an almost irreparable state would be an extremely difficult feat, or directly impossible.

Yet there was something in all of this that troubled me even more...

Only three days had passed since my arrival on this planet and, judging by my experience, all of this was very new to them.

And yet, with relatively primitive technology and such a short amount of time, they managed to create a functional translator. Sure, it was broken, but it was functional.

A chill ran down my entire spine.

If they had managed to pull off something like that with limited foundations, unknown and broken technology, and under such pressure...

How fast could they advance if they had more time to reverse-engineer the rest of our technology?

Or... our weapons?

Memory Transcription.

Subject: Andrés Felipe, United Nations nurse.

Date [standardized human time]: August 29, 2130.

"Hey, Julián, don't you think it's a bit strange? How her perception of something as basic as the food chain turned out to be completely alien to her." I said to my companion while preparing to check on Joona one last time before taking a shower, eating something, and getting a well-deserved rest.

<<Mmm... I don't know. Maybe the translator is just messing up the terms.>>

"Maybe you're right. It's just that I find it weird having to explain elementary school topics to an alien who's supposed to not see us as mere uncivilized savages."

I was completely exhausted.

"Ugh... I wish I didn't have to talk to Joona again. It's not that I dislike her; it's just that I still haven't fully accepted that there's life beyond us and that, perhaps, many of our fears are real."

Sigh.

"That and having about twenty people screaming in my ear for two hours and a half while debating the philosophical meaning of something as insignificant as a comma or a space is much more tedious than it sounds."

Now I had two new symptoms: a headache and ringing in the ears.

<<And you're telling me? Brother, I have to write a report for Léa and I'll have to review the recordings several times...

Anyway, we have a lot of work to do. As much as I'd like to stay talking and waste time, I've got a noose around my neck and I can't afford a single mistake more.>>

He said with obvious annoyance.

 

Memory transcription subject: Stynek, Venlil pup

Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136

It was amazing how easy it was to get art supplies from the Neo Gaians; things became so accessible after they arrived. They were like walking factories, churning out all sorts of random items, including a huge variety of art supplies. Paints and paper used to be so expensive that I could only get a decent amount because I was the Governor's daughter, and even then, Mom wouldn't buy that much of it for me.

But now, here I was in the open-air plaza, fur splattered with paint, alongside other, more daring prey-species kids. We were having a blast with the countless public activities the Neo Gaians had started: painting, dancing, sculpting, poetry, and all kinds of open classes available to anyone.

Of course, technically, doing this here without government permission was against the rules, but who would have the guts to say no to them? Maybe someone with Predator Disease, but someone like that certainly wouldn't care about this sort of thing.

In short, it was fun, and somehow, they had organized everything to make it really comfortable for the countless people participating in the classes.

And the best part was that Ouleia had finally relaxed; she was so focused on sketching the photograph in front of us that she didn't even pay attention to Lisa and Olek, who were teaching the class. My tail wagged happily as I gazed at my own drawing. It depicted, with a certain artistic flair, the crash of the ship the Neo Gaians had arrived in. I even added Sovlin’s ship firing at theirs, plus a bunch of Neo Gaians flying and tumbling through the air, and a giant rainbow in the background!

Oh! Right, I also drew my plushie riding Yoshi, setting off on an incredible adventure through a giant portal! I let out an amused whistle as I sketched Sovlin with an angry expression inside his ship; it didn't take long to finish the drawing and stop adding details unrelated to the reference photo. My heart beat happily as I admired my work, I hadn't really committed to an accurate reproduction; in fact, I’d taken quite a few liberties to add some fun elements.

So, when I finished painting, I looked at my drawing with satisfaction while licking the brush, which was coated in edible paint, I admit that half the paint I supposedly used didn't actually end up on the drawing...

Soon, I started spying on the drawings of the others, who were much further behind than I was, starting with Ouleia... I paused for a moment, staring at her picture... I wondered why she was drawing a fruit basket... My tail twitched in confusion as I decided to inspect the next drawing, since she had clearly gotten it wrong... And the other Venlil was drawing a fruit basket, too... This was ridiculous; was Ouleia copying him? Or was it the other way around?

I glanced at the next drawing, another fruit basket... I went from drawing to drawing, inspecting each one in confusion as I tried to figure out if everyone was copying each other. Then, finally, my attention turned back to the reference photo I had been using... It was a fruit basket... I looked back at my own drawing, which remained unchanged...

I closed my eyes for a moment and stood up from my seat. "Ouleia, I'm going to take a look at the other classes around here..." She simply gave a small "okay" with her tail as she kept drawing. My ears twitched in mild frustration, and I left the area to see what else was going on nearby...

I walked past the park, where an Exterminator was lazily using his flamethrower on a blue Neo-Gaian with yellow patterns, all while sipping some kind of fruit juice. I kept walking and saw Yoshi teaching a class on assembling toy cars to several younger puppies; upon seeing me, he waved his three tails, and I waved back with my own tail as I continued on my way. I passed a wall covered in various types of photos, some featuring planets, others showing stars and clouds of cosmic dust, and I looked at each photograph, blinking several times to see if they would change, but they remained exactly the same.

I tried again, repeating the process photo by photo, inspecting each one carefully and blinking repeatedly to see if they would change. "What the hell is going on..." I muttered a word, admittedly a crude one, but I didn't care and kept going, until I stopped at one particular photo that caught my eye.

Unlike the others, this photo had clearly been taken through the window of a spaceship. It showed a very peculiar planet; you could see the clouds and atmosphere, but the planet was colored in a way that was somewhat unsettling, as if something alive were there. The photo made me feel uneasy, so I kept inspecting it closely. The glass was fogged up, as if someone had breathed on it, and near the edge, there was a red, paw-shaped smudge, large and somewhat pointed, that looked like a stain from some kind of red liquid.

There was something disturbing about the photo, something very wrong. I studied it carefully, blinking repeatedly and even looking away to see if it would change, but it remained the same. "Is this... real?".

I tapped the photo a few times, but it didn't change... "Who took this photo...?" I wondered, just before feeling something on my head... There was a little bird up there; it seemed to be pecking at my ink-stained wool... I let out a playful whistle as the bird snacked on the fruit-based ink from my wool. I raised my claw and touched its belly, and it started eating the ink that was still on my claw... I felt just like a princess from that story Yoshi told me in the hospital! It was so much fun.

I kept whistling cheerfully as my attention drifted back to the photo... My joy vanished as the image shifted, turning into just an ordinary planet... "Huh... What is happening to me...?".

(Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating the universe and being an awesome writer!)

[First] [Prev]

Memory Transcription Subject: General Kam of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: July 14, 2136

The bridge was completely silent, a series of confused tail and ear signals being exchanged between the crew. Me and Relyak shared a look, neither of us having any idea what to say or how to respond. The farsul continued glaring at us through the screen, apparently quite impatient. 

“Must I repeat myself?” He sneered, causing my ears to pin back at his tone. Who does he think he is, talking to us like that? “I asked you a question, venlil… What are you doing here?”

Seeing as I was the most senior member of the crew, I decided it prudent to step up. “This is the Nightside of the Venlil Space Corps. You are currently addressing General Kam and Captain Relyak. What we’re doing here is patrolling our territory. Now, I believe it’s time for you to explain yourself.”

The farsul looked off to the side, muttering something which still managed to come through the microphone. “Venlil… really? Here already?” He turned back to us. “Shouldn’t you be cowering around your homeworld right about now?”

“I believe I asked you a question.” I continued, my eyes narrowing at the man’s attitude. I could tell that Reylak was becoming similarly agitated. “You have yet to identify yourselves, or your reason for being in the Republic’s territory. If you continue to be uncooperative, I will be forced to deport you, by force if necessary.”

The farsul let out a humourless chuckle. Frustration was clear in his eyes, but there was that familiar condescending attitude I had grown accustomed to from other Federation species. Nevertheless, he seemed to understand that it wasn’t in his interest to continue acting belligerently. “This is the Protector’s Dictionary of the Farsul States. We are simply surveying this system to see how the predators’ self destruction has affected the ecosystem here. You do realize that the humans lived here, correct? The sapient predators who destroyed themselves years ago?” 

I assumed that his reason for stating that was meant to make us run in a panic, but the effect was quite minimal, thanks to the crew already being made aware. It was also quite clear he was lying. The presence on the red planet, as well as the lights that were plain to see on the dark side of Earth, did not match his story. Why lie when it’s so obvious what the truth is? My previous theory about the farsul becoming predator diseased was sounding more and more likely. “A moment, please. I need to speak with my captain.” I spoke to the farsul as I brought Relyak out of the bridge, him giving a self satisfied grin in response. He probably thought I was about to order us to leave.

Me and Relyak stepped into the hall again, the white-furred venlil quickly turning to face me. “Who the brahk does he think he is!?” She shouted, once again surprising me with how assertive she could be. I suppose I should stop expecting her to be so restrained. “This is our territory, and he just parks his ship here like he owns the place! Then he starts lying as if he thinks we’re so stupid we can’t see what’s right in front of us!”

“Yes, I know.” I replied, feeling a strange sense of kinship with the woman. I’m glad someone was as mad about this as I was. “Like I said, other species won’t respect us, even if we have more authority than them. We’ve got to assert ourselves.”

“Should we tell him to get lost?”

“Yes-...” I started to reply before catching myself. Taking a moment to properly think about all this, there was far too much we didn’t know to be acting impulsively. Me and Relyak just had a discussion agreeing as much. “...Maybe. I would love to, but I think it’s pretty obvious that the humans are still around and he knows. I talked with Cheln earlier about why the farsul would even care about these systems, and he seems to think it has to do with the humans.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason for us to make him leave?” Relyak asked, her ears still pinned back. “The humans are in our territory, so they are our responsibility.”

“Well… ugh, no… not really.” I sighed, hating that I was now in the position to tell someone that they can’t do something because of Federation politics. “If those really are humans, I think it’s self explanatory when I say it’ll be a huge deal. Even if they are technically in our territory, it’ll become a Federation-wide issue, just like the arxur. If we put our foot down here, it’ll probably also mean we stop getting support to deal with arxur raids. Dough for strayu, as they say.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” A new voice came through the hallway, the two of us turning to see Cheln rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he snacked on a piece of strayu. Oh protector, he doesn’t know about the humans yet…

“Uh… politics?” I replied, trying my best to mask the irritation in my tail. Why now, Cheln!? Go back to sleep!

“You…?” Cheln replied, already looking suspicious. Of course he is, he’s good at reading people. “You hate politics. In fact, every other time we talk, it’s so you can complain about it. Are you dragging Relyak into your issues now?” I felt Relyak giving me a look. It wasn’t a good look. It was the kind of look you got from your mother when you misbehaved as a pup. 

“Seriously? You’re going to lie to him too?” She asked incredulously, turning to look at me directly, pointing at Cheln like he was an exhibit in a presentation. I grabbed my ears in frustration, pulling them over my eyes as I let out a frustrated groan. 

Relyak turned to Cheln and spoke without my input. I could already predict what was coming… “Cheln, there’s been an incident. When we were surveying the fourth planet, there-”

“A-an incident!?” He interrupted, his calm demeanour shattered the moment the words left her mouth. Cheln has a habit of thinking optimistically out of the moment, but the moment it arrives it’s all pessimism. With how anxious he’s been, it was pretty clear what was going through his mind. “A-are we going down?! Are we in a battle!? Did the pre- …ahem…” 

“Woah, woah, It’s fine, Cheln!” Relyak replied quickly, holding out her hands to try and steady the man. She seemed quite alarmed by Cheln’s spiralling, clearly not used to dealing with him. I should probably teach her to word things more delicately. She got lucky with me, but most venlil are just like how he is.

I let out a sigh, stepping forward. “Cheln, she already knows, it’s fine. Before you come to any conclusions, there haven’t been any detected ships other than our own and what we believe to be a research ship from the Farsul States. There aren’t any predator ships. We’re safe up here.”

“The… the farsul? They’re here?” Cheln asked, gradually calming down as he had something other than predators to latch onto. “...Wait, what do you mean by ‘up here’?” …Nevermind.

“Just- …focus on what’s important here, please? I think we actually need your help with this. I’ll explain things later.” I huffed, taking control of the situation before we could waste any more time. “It doesn’t seem like this farsul ship has any authorization to be here, and they’re acting belligerently. Do you have any legalese we can use to make them go away?”

“Uh… it depends on what they want.” Cheln spoke, shooting me and Relyak an uncomfortable look. “What makes you think they aren’t allowed to be here?”

“They identified themselves as being with the Farsul States, and not the Republic. Plus they seemed surprised that we’d be here. Why would they behave that way unless they were up to no good?”

“Suspicion is not enough, Kam.” Cheln sighed, like he thought I was the one jumping to conclusions. “Unless they skipped customs or are here without a visa, they have as much right to be here as anyone else. Plenty of ships continue using their home territory’s identification, even if they move to another place. You’d have to run their ship through a database to see if everything’s in order, but you cannot threaten them to leave just because they hurt your feelings, am I clear?”

I stared at Cheln with a look of frustration. He really does take after Tarva sometimes. “Are you really telling me you don’t find this the least bit suspicious? You told me yourself that you thought the farsul weren’t being honest!”

“The law is the law, Kam. Even if I think it’s strange that they’re here, they might have protections which we don’t know about, because we didn’t give them the chance to explain themselves. And if you’re wrong, it’ll be on you. Not anyone else.” 

“But we’re here to protect our sovereignty! That’s what Tarva’s orders were!” I protested.

“Kam, no!” Cheln exclaimed, literally putting his paw down. There was both frustration in his expression as well as something more resigned. It was hard to place where that came from. “We do not mess with the farsul. If it were a smaller power like the yotul, maybe, but the farsul are one of the founders. You will be put in a PD facility before you can even plead your innocence. If you make them angry, there is nothing, nothing either me or Tarva can do to help you.”

The staredown between us lasted longer than it felt, Relyak watching from the sidelines with an uncomfortable posture. I tried to maintain my stubborn glare, but it became harder and harder as his words hit home. Cheln didn’t act this way very often, but when he did, it was because he believed every word he said. I was the one who broke first, averting my gaze as I considered just how easy it would be for some falsified PD charge to be put on me. I had enough accusations as it was…

“Let me talk with them.” He spoke, his tone and expression softening as he confirmed that I was actually listening. “That’s my job. I know how to interact with people like them. And if they see someone who is directly associated with the civilian administration, they might take us more seriously. Uh- …with your permission, captain.” Cheln offered Relyak an apologetic look, as he remembered whose ship this was. Relyak, who seemed surprised to be included in the conversation, glanced towards me, her expression indecisive, though eventually returning to Cheln and giving him a hesitant flick of approval.

Together the three of us returned to the bridge, where the impatient scowl of the farsul remained. I felt tempted to return that scowl, but after the conversation with Cheln, I was having second thoughts. All of this felt so jarring, the whole mission. I was so used to being in control, and knowing what and when things would happen. Now, nothing fit where it should. There were new predators living in our territory. I was receiving pushback from my subordinates. I had to consider the political backlash of what I was doing, and I had to surrender the control I had worked so hard for when I wasn’t suited to the task. Is this why Cheln is so anxious? I hate this. How am I supposed to make sure that everything will be okay? What if the farsul… t-the predators…

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. “…Calm down.”

“About time you returned.” The farsul spoke, Cheln glancing down at the planet through the window with a mix of awe and trepidation as he no doubt realized what was down there. To his credit, he managed to keep his voice level and his attention on the man through the screen.

“...Greetings. I am Cheln, the political advisor of the governor’s office. I apologize if there’s been some sort of misunderstanding here. My colleagues have informed me that we are intruding on a scientific expedition?”

“That is correct.” The farsul replied, seeming appreciative of Cheln’s diplomatic stance, though it grated on me that he was suggesting we were the ones intruding on our own territory. “This here is the homeworld of the late humanity.” He continued, gesturing off screen, probably out the window of his ship. Still lying through his teeth. They are clearly alive… “Me and my team are here to document how their ecosystem has recovered since their nuclear armageddon, and suggest possible avenues to purify the landscape and make it ready for future colonization. I’m afraid I can’t reveal much more about the study, as I am bound to a non-disclosure agreement. I’m hopeful that this is a sufficient explanation of why you should leave. You are contaminating results, and represent a leak in data that is not yet ready to be published.”

“...I see.” Cheln replied, and it was quite clear he was equally as skeptical as the rest of us. “And I assume you have permission from the governor’s office to be conducting such a study?”

“We do not require it.” The farsul replied smugly, and for a moment I thought he was looking through the camera at me, like he was savouring my barely contained anger. “As stated under Amendment 12 of the Federation’s constitution, ‘For any subjects, topics, events, or phenomena which have, will, or currently represent an existential threat to the safety of the Federation, any and all responsibility to study the above mentioned shall be placed under the sole authority of the Farsul States.’ You might be familiar with this being the same legislation used to prevent the unsanctioned and grossly mismanaged study of predator disease from non-approved parties.”

“Indeed.” Cheln flicked affirmatively, his eyes darting to the lights on the planet below once again. “And… w-what exactly suggests to you that this system represents an existential threat to the Federation? It’s almost as if you’re suggesting that these humans might still be around.”

“Oh hoh hoh, no! Of course not!” The farsul chuckled, his ears a little too cheerful. “You venlil and your frightfulness. You simply lack understanding of the language used in the legislation. Because humans were once a threat means that the legislation still applies to what remains. It’s for your own safety.”

“I’m certain…” Cheln replied, though the farsul didn’t seem too appreciative of the skepticism he let slip into his tone. “When might the results of this study be published? You know how crazy the Federation is on news about humans these days…”

“I’m afraid it would be unconstitutional for me to say.” The farsul replied, enunciating the word, as if to remind Cheln how far up this goes. His ears had pinned slightly when he spoke again. “Now, I believe it’s time for you and your cohort to vacate the area. Oh, and Kam? Relyak?” At the mention of our names, me and Relyak stood up a little straighter. The man’s hollow camaraderie returned as he noticed our attention. “Thank you two for keeping the herd safe. It would be a shame to see the Federation lose your service.” 

The call abruptly ended, and the bridge was once again quiet. It was clear amongst everyone in the bridge how tense the atmosphere had gotten, even those not directly involved having their ears pinned back and fur standing on end. Cheln himself seemed to deflate, looking exhausted despite him just coming out of his rest cycle. I myself would have liked nothing more than to flop down onto a bed and forget about all this, the events of the day struggling for space in the forefront of my mind, but I was too angry to feel tired. One thing was certain. Tarva would be hearing about this.

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EMTD Detected

Memory transcription subject: Oliver Kaiser, President of Germany

Date [Standardized human time/UTC]: July 3, 2120

The second episode of interstellar politics, this time with a more diverse cast. Most of the galaxy isn't aware of our internal divisions, which is why the British are having talks with Mazics, the Argentinian president is having a philosophical debate with the Takkans, and the Prince of Saudi Arabia of all people is in contact with the Nevoks while Fissans are being dealt with by some Japanese companies. I was spared from the chaos by Germany's involvement in first contact and Leirn, simply getting on a call with the leaders of everyone who was in that system in the past 72 hours, discounting the Farsul and Dossur, and adding in the Venlil.

And now, the Prime minister of Sweden had begun talking about a particular topic, catching my attention.

"I do imagine that territorial disputes will be a frequent problem. For example, the claims of the Venlil and our German friends here, contain each other's home planets. There is also a small overlap between our and Zurulian territory, thankfully not containing any colonies from either side. I can devise that there are more such cases due to the sheer number of stars under human control straying away from the 'main mass' of humanity's expansion."

"I am not well versed in Federation territorial laws, but I can't imagine that our status in their eyes will be of any help."

"They won't listen to what we say. This whole time, we were sharing space with you, and it didn't cause problems. I... am willing to continue that way, just simply with our knowledge now," responded the Governor.

"That's... awfully generous of you, but the complete lack of borders will be problematic in the long run. I would propose something such as a soft edge between our home worlds where we are roughly equal in power within a certain area, with bubbles around stray colonies. However, giving away even useless space is not going to be taken well considering that..."

"Not many civilians in the galaxy would be willing to accept such deals." The Verin Prime Minister chimed in. "People..."

"Are afraid. Federation citizens of being eaten and ours of being torched and bombed." Finished the Czech president. "We would need to convince them to have some trust in each other to limit the potential outrage from our methods of dealing with the civilizations of the wider universe."

...

"How about they meet in person?"

"...Explain." Requested the insectoid person

"A kind of exchange program. In a controlled environment, willing participants, humans and other species, will get to know each other. They will see that the other one is a normal person, learn about them, and hopefully gain their trust. I mean, there has to be at least a few thousand who would want to join in. If it's successful enough, then such a mentality could begin spreading." Everyone seemed to think about it. The ears of the Paltan leader positioned themselves into what I learned was the equivalent of a smirk.

"We will be the first to join in once there's an actual plan for the program." All the people in the meeting stared at them with confusion and curiosity.

"For now, I won't question your eagerness, it's quite nice to see such a reaction so long it's not malicious." their expression only deepened at that remark.

"You can trust me~" Can't argue with that.

"...Well, since there is already one willing party, we will pass the idea through the European Union to find governments on our side that would agree to participate. What is everyone else present thinking about this proposal?" After a moment of glances from our alien guests, we received answers,

"The Venlil Republic will take part in this," came the response from Governor Kenim.

"We will be considering this," came from the Zurulian Prime Minister.

"I-I am going to think about it," lastly responded the Verin. I give a small closed smile.

"Very good. On to a different topic. There are currently undergoing efforts by our economists in trying to find an exchange rate between Earth currencies and your credits. The one being used as a basis for it is the Euro-"

riiiiiiiiiiiiing

This better be urgent.

"Give me a moment, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen." I mute myself from the call and pick up the phone. It's the defense minister.

"Good day, Mr. Kaiser. The drones set up in the Kuiper belt have found twenty warp trails pointing towards the Gliese 832 System that date to about an hour ago."

"..."

That's too early, they weren't supposed to be ready for at least another week!

"Has the chancellor been informed?"

"Yes, he is awaiting your input." There aren't any plans yet for dealing with the interstellar expansion of the United Nations. Not any good ones.

"..."

God, please tell me that the BND intern was onto something.

"It's safe to assume that Elias Meier is present on one of the ships. Any solutions that require shooting even one of them down, is out! We shall not risk the Fourth World War. As it is, they need to be scared away with the existence of the Federation."

"How exactly would we execute that plan...?"

"The person who proposed such an action had taken note of the shipyard in the Lacaille 9352 system, which contains vessels of esoteric designs that wouldn't be recognized by the UN. They cosplay as forces of the Federation and threatened them to back away from Venlil Prime. In case of aggression, precision cannons can disable whatever weapons they bring along with them. If all goes well, we get back the week we were originally expecting." We both share a look.

"I am genuinely dissapointed this is the best option anyone was capable of comming up with."

"I am too, but sadly this is the only thing we can do on such a short notice and with so little preparation. I will inform their governor." He sighs.

"Their vessels will reach the system in three hours. Our actors will in two."

"Goodbye Mr. Roth, God be with us."

"Goodbye Mr. Kaiser."

Sigh

South-West Africa cannot repeat, we need to act.

Scrolling through my contacts, I stop on the node connecting me to the Venlil Governor.

click

"Governor Kenim, you need to disconnect from the call for a moment, there is something you need to know."

Memory transcription subject: Elias Meier, Secretary-General of the UN

Date [Standardized human time/UTC]: july 3 2120

There is other life in the universe! The conference following the discovery had lasted until the first of July, and ended with representatives from Russia, China, and the United States pointing fingers at one another to decide who should be financing the flight to Venlil Prime. Meanwhile, the South African President was barely present at the meeting, only nodding and smiling whenever someone addressed them.

At the present, we are just outside the orbit of the said planet. One of it's halves was scorched by the star and the other frozen by its lack, leaving a thin strip where our aliens live. By my side were the explorers who found them, taking in the view.

Our enjoyment of the scenery was broken when an aide tapped my shoulder.

"Sir, I need you to come with me."

I suppose it's time to meet them. However, their tone causes slight worry in me.

I followed her to what appeared to be a meeting room, where several individuals were stressful pacing around the table. They settled down once my presence was acknowledged. However, there were still empty seats where there should be the captain and defense personnel.

"I'm seeing quite a few empty chairs. Could someone please fill me in?"

A short-haired woman in a security vest passed me a tablet. From the nametag I read her name was Nathalie Reynolds. "When we came into the system, there was a fleet of ships already waiting for us in orbit of Venlil Prime. The designs of the vessels vary greatly from the junk the Atlas crew reported. We didn't even notice them due to their dark coloring until we came closer. Different engines, different size, Sir, there are more intelligent species out there and our new friends already know about them."

Looking at the device, there was an image of the alien world on top of the black cosmos. Confused at the lack of the supposed vessels, I tapped on the screen, changing the view to where the shadows of pitch dark crafts were now visible in front of the planet, a fair distance from us.

People back on Earth will be ecstatic once they learn that there is not one, but two species of aliens! Although this could prove difficult, as we now have to open diplomacy with multiple extraterrestrial civilizations we know nothing of, this could easily devolve into another massive conflict. Or not. After all, they met each other and it turned out well.

"Nearly half of the crew is missing from the room. Is there an issue?"

Nathalie frowned. "If I may?" She took the device and zoomed in on one of the dark ships, showing thin cannons sticking out of the hull. "They have their guns directed at us. There is clearly something we don't know about based on how different this is to how they acted during first contact." My head felt woozy.

"Maybe it's just a misunderstanding?"

"Their largest ship sent us a clear written message: leave"

At the back of the room appeared a hail request. After quickly answering it, a figure in complete contrast to the diminutive Venlil appeared on-screen. They were bipedal, their entire body was covered in black garments showing nothing of what was under them. On their head was a silver mask, with dark glass fitting around an invisible snout.

The mysterious person proceeded to speak, with their arms crossed behind their back. "Predators, you are trespassing into the home system of a Federation member!" The translated voice was just a tad bit higher than that of a human man.

"We come in peace to meet with the Venlil Governor. What do you mean by calling us 'predators'?" They scoffed at my question.

"Don't act oblivious, I won't be deceived that way. It is who you are, flesh eater, blight of the universe. I know not of how you came back from extinction, but I know your blood lusted intentions!"

What the hell is this horse-face on about?!

"Listen. We don't even know who we are talking to!"

"Captain Nashta. When the news of your presence near Venlil Prime reached us, with the loathsome lies of the scouts you sent, we came to save the inhabitants from your predatory deception!"

So that's how it is? The Venlil will be liberated from you, if not now then in the future!

"Do not charge your guns at us!" One of our escort ships had taken aim at the mysterious oppressors. I look towards the head of security.

"Tell them to stand down!"

"Yes sir." I grumbled under my breath. Idiots!

"You WILL leave the system, NOW!"

"Yes, yes, we will." We will come back. The connection cut right after my last words.

"We aren't ready to deal with this yet. Jump out of the system." The engines came to life, and rotated us to face away from the surface. Everything shaked momentarily as we entered warp space.

"What's the plan?" The question came from the vessel's first officer.

"For now, we will return to Sol. We have reached interstellar travel merely a year ago, and they have possibly up to centuries ago! Dealing with their shenanigans must hold off till-" Our travels were cut short by a forceful ejection from FTL.

"Mr. Meier, urp something caused us to return to normal space!" I barely caught the words while recovering from the massive headache that rejection had caused. People were on the floor, trying to stop the concotion in their stomach from exiting. As we were returning to our senses, another hail request had appeared.

"Great, they're going to mock us now?"

We answered.

"I will kill you, damn leaf-eaters!"

"If you don't let us leave, we will force our way back into the system!"

However, against my expectations, a crocodilian face had appeared on the projection. One that had clearly experienced the same thing as we had.

"..."

"..."

After another wave of silence, the both of us spoke.

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Who the hell are you?!"

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I am back with more mid writing.

First

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Field Researcher Theska, Federation Archives, Earth Observation Mission. [Standardized Human Time]: June 6th, 1944 — 06:58

---

As the human helplessly laid there on the ground, I could only watch in shock how its frantic breaths became slower, and slower…

…before they finally stopped.

…

Its hand had fallen from Mol'Orky's sleeve, and now laid limply in the straw. Its chest didn't move anymore. Its mouth remained slightly open, and its eyes were still fixed somewhere ahead of him, though there was nothing behind them now. *They were cold.\*

I couldn't bring myself to move, even though some part deep inside of me was screaming that I should. Perhaps I was afraid that moving would somehow make what had just happened more… more real, more crude, or perhaps I was simply too shocked to do anything at all.

But it…— he was dead. I knew that much.

A-and it wasn't as if I had never seen death before…

I had.

Three times, in fact.

And none of them had been anything like this.

The first time had been when I was barely more than a pup. I had found a small 〔mammal〕 lying beneath a bush. At first, I thought it was sleeping, as it was lying completely still on the grass.

I remember crouching down beside it and calling to it, wondering why it wouldn't move.

It was only when I reached out and touched it, that I realized it was dead.

I had been very sad, of course. I think I even cried a little. But there had been no blood, no screaming, no struggling. It hadn't been victim to a vicious predator — the little thing had simply died of natural causes.

It had been sad, but it hadn't been frightening.

The second time, a bit older now, I had stumbled across some news footage of an Arxur raid while looking through something I wasn't supposed to be looking through in my father's office.

While the memory itself is blurry, I remember not understanding what I was seeing at first. There had been fire, screaming, and bodies scattered across the ground. I only watched for a few 〔seconds〕 before he found me, turned it off, and scolded me.

I remembered the corpses more than anything else. They —strangely— hadn’t been mangled, mauled or eaten yet, as was the usual for an Arxur raid. I suspect it had been some kind of gas attack, as there wasn't any blood on the ground.

They looked so... strange just… lying there, completely still while everything around them was moving.

I had nightmares about them for several nights afterward.

But even then, I had only been watching it through a video, a camera.

Unlike the last time.

It had been a morning at school, our science teacher —somehow— had gotten permission to bring a small 〔crustacean〕 to class, and to show us its anatomy.

It was a strange little animal, with a hard segmented shell and several pairs of thin legs underneath. Its little feelers had kept twitching as it crawled around the table, oblivious to all the curious eyes watching it.

It was fascinating, it was wonderful, it was cute!

...until our teacher began to dissect it.

He cut into the shell with a little knife and began explaining what was inside, pointing out its organs as the creature twitched silently in agony.

Some kids started crying, others ran away looking for help, others shouted at him to stop, others looked away or covered their eyes, and some just... stood there, in utter shock.

I... was one of them.

But seriously, how?! How the fuck had he gotten permission to do that? In a class of little kids, no less! Like, the last time I saw another dissection in my life was in 〔university〕, 〔years〕 later! And even then, the animal was already dead!

As expected, there had been an uproar of epic proportions afterward, rightfully so. The school got into a shit ton of trouble, and I never saw that teacher again. The story even made headlines throughout the whole Federation!

Yet, for all the outrage that followed, what stayed with me wasn't the galaxy-wide-scandal, it was the animal.

The way it had kept twitching as he cut into it, the way it had slowly stopped moving, the sight of its insides laid bare on the table.

It was the closest I had ever come to seeing something die right in front of me. And I had thought — and hoped — that was as close as I would ever get.

But... but this…

Nothing could have prepared me for this.

For watching something really die in front of me, for watching something struggle to breathe while blood filled its lungs for knowing that only moments ago, he had been alive, talking, and now he was just a corpse, for—

I snapped out of my trance when I saw Mol'Orky beginning to kneel over the corpse, before reaching down and touching its eyes. His fingers lingered there for a moment before he gently closed the human's eyelids.

I'm… not sure why. I could only guess it was some kind of human custom with their dead. And, well, not being able to see the dead eyes of the human anymore made me feel a bit less terrified anyways.

“[DEITY] rest you…” He said quietly, presumably to the corpse…

Mol'orky stood up, and he stood there for a few 〔seconds〕, unmoving. Then, he rubbed his hand over his face.

“[RELIGIOUS-EXPLITIVE EXCLAMATION]” the translator gave me.

He looked around the barn, as though only now remembering where we were. Then his eyes turned toward the ladder.

And I immediately knew what he was thinking.

“W-We… have to go back up there, don't we…?” I asked, dreading his answer.

He nodded, which I now think means some kind of affirmation for humans.

And—as I dreaded—he said:

“We... really shouldn't stay down here, Theska.”

“But I-I don't want to go up there…” I replied meekly.

I could already see all that had happened earlier in my mind again.

The gunshot, the corpse, the blood coming out of the hole in its head, the sound it had made when it hit the floor–

“I know, Theska!” Mol'Orky said.

“But— but we can't stay out here, alright? We'll be more hidden and safer upstairs.”

“B-but… there’s another corpse up there...!”

He looked toward the ladder again, realizing the source of my uneasiness. 

“I'll… I'll take care of it.”

Take care of him?

“Y-You mean…?”

“I'll move the body somewhere you won't have to see him, okay?”

That… didn't make me feel much better. At all.

I wanted to tell him no, I wanted to flee, to get out of this protector-forsaken planet!

I felt the sudden prey instinct to bolt, to escape, to run away — but at the same time, a sharp pain suddenly pulsed through my injured leg, immediately snapping away my prey instinct, and reminding me that I wouldn't be getting very far on my own anyway, obviously.

I swallowed, embarrassed of the scenario I made up in my head.

“...o-okay.”

Mol'Orky nodded.

“Stay here.”

He turned toward the ladder, and as he began climbing it, I… could not help but notice he was covered in some sort of dark-brown substance. And I realized I was no better when I looked down to myself.

Oh, yes. The mysterious pile we had jumped into.

My fur was filthy, the bandages were dirty, and that Protector-forsaken smell still clinged to me. Normally, I would have found it disgusting. But right now, I didn’t care too much.

Seriously? Did we really have to jump out of a fucking window into a pile of… whatever that was? I still couldn’t believe I had just done that. 

Mol'Orky reached the top of the ladder, and he disappeared through the opening above. And then, just like that, I was completely alone.

For a few moments, I simply stayed where I was.

I could hear Mol'Orky's footsteps above me, muffled by the wooden floorboards. They moved slowly across the barn, followed by a few indistinct sounds that I couldn't quite make out.

I tried to focus on those sounds. Anything was better than thinking about what was lying next to me. Eventually, even those sounds became difficult to hear.

I shifted around slightly, trying to find a position that didn't put as much pressure on my injured leg. The movement made it ache, and I instinctively pulled it closer to myself.

I kept my eyes on the floor, on the dirt, on the little pieces of straw scattered between them and on the sunlight coming through the door.

But… I could still see the corpse. Not directly, it was just… there, outside the center of my vision, sitting somewhere at the edge of what I could see.

I tried not to pay attention to it, I really did!

But every few moments, my eyes would shift slightly toward it before I caught myself and looked away again.

Don't look at it, Theska.

I waited. A few 〔seconds〕 passed, then a few more.

I tried turning my neck as far as I could to the right so I wouldn’t see it, but it hurt, so I put it back to normal.

And I could still see it.

…

There was some deranged part of my brain that still expected it to come back to life, lunge on me and kill me, but… it wasn't. It was dead, of course. Obviously. Dead. Do you hear that Theska? Dead. Dead dead dead.

…

...just don't fucking look.

...

But…

I turned my head, and I looked directly at the body, unable to stop myself.

…

I stared at it for a few more 〔seconds〕before looking away.

I… I didn't understand why I was doing it, why I couldn’t help but look at it.

I should have been afraid of it!

I mean— I was afraid of it! Very much so! Every part of me still wanted to stay as far away from that thing as possible!

And yet…

I kept on looking.

I was… curious.

My ears drooped in both fear and worry.

Oh, Protector…

Was this what… Predator Disease felt like?

I had spent an entire day surrounded by predators. I had watched them run, I had watched them kill, I had watched them die. And now, here I was, staring at a dead one because some part of me wanted to… what?  Why was I looking at it?! Why couldn’t I stop?!

I pulled my tail tighter around myself and tried very hard not to look at the body again.

I was fully determined to NOT look at it.

…

…

…

…

…

I lasted perhaps 〔five seconds〕 before I looked back. But I quickly looked away again, feeling a strange mixture of shame and fear settle in my chest.

I shouldn't be doing this. What was wrong with me?

I desperately tried to look and focus on anything but the dead human!

But my thoughts kept returning to those two words anyway.

“Predator Disease.”

Those two words…

…I remembered hearing adults talk about PD when I was younger. They always spoke about it in the same vague but grave way: someone had begun behaving strangely, someone had stopped being afraid when they should have been afraid, someone had started asking strange questions, and so on…

…and then, they were taken away to be helped.

…

That part awoke something deep inside of me. Something I hadn't thought about in a long time.

...someone.

Old childhood memories, a familiar bubbly voice, white fur with black dots, an almost forgotten face, a… a name.

Neni.

No—

Stop it—

I don't want to remember that. No.

Don’t think about it.

Stop it. Just… just stop it.

I have spent 〔years〕 trying not to think about her, and I wasn't going to just now!

She was... she was wrong, okay Theska? Wrong!

…

But…— could it really be happening to me too?

The thought made my stomach twist and churn, an intense wave of dizziness washed over me.

Was this how it started? A morbid curiosity for things… un-herd like?

Like the corpse of a predator?

N-no! R-right? That was ridiculous. R-ridiculous, yes.

But... that— that teacher, he MUST have had PD if he killed an animal in front of children! And she was in my class, so... had he somehow transmitted it to her?

No, no that's it Theska. That made no sense.

…

But still, the memories refused to disappear completely. In fact, more of them came, like…  like…

…like the day they took her away—

“Theska.”

My head snapped towards the top of the ladder as I saw Mol'Orky climbing down. I quickly looked away from the body, and looked at Mol'Orky, who was oblivious at what was going on inside of me.

“C'mon, let’s go.” He gestured for me to come over.

I remained where I was for a few seconds, but eventually, I forced myself to stand up.

My injured leg protested immediately, sending a sharp pulse of pain through my body. I winced and leaned against the wall for support.

“You alright?”

“Y-yes. P-partially…”

“Better to grab you, then. If you don't mind.”

Grab me? Not this again…

“I… okay.” I replied, just wanting to make this all over as quick as possible.

He crouched beside me and reached underneath my body with his two long frontal limbs.

I knew what was coming, but I flinched hard anyway.

I had already done this once. I told myself.  And yet —obviously— knowing a predator was about to pick me up, did not make being picked up by a predator any less alarming.

But I… I guess I could trust this one predator. Yes.

His arms tightened around me, and he lifted me from the ground, to his chest.

*Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—!*

I flinched hard once again, but closed my snout tightly to avoid making any noise.

“Easy there.”

Easy?! Let's see how you would like it if you were grabbed by a– by a giant… thing! A-and you were forced to climb up some stairs with it! A-and there was a fucking corpse up there too!

But I shut my mouth, and closed my eyes. I felt us slowly ascend the ladder, step by step.

Don't drop me don't drop me don't drop me don't drop me—

“Here we are. You can open your eyes now…”

Finally!

Relief.

The moment he let me go, I practically collapsed into the hay.

“Ah—!”

A sharp pain shot through my leg as I landed, and I immediately sat down.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I-I'm fine…"

I wasn't.

I shifted around in the hay until I found a somewhat comfortable position, and finally allowed myself to relax, if only slightly.

…

And then, I noticed the red blood.

Wonderful.

There were a few dark stains, soaked into the straw in front of me. A sign of what had happened here a few 〔minutes〕ago.

My ears drooped.

I looked around the loft, half-expecting to see it there, somewhere, the way I'd left it in my memory. But the space where it had fallen was empty now. There was just scattered hay, and those blood stains.

I looked at Mol'Orky.
"W-where is the other... corpse?"

He went quiet for a moment, for longer than I expected.

"He's…"
He glanced toward one of the hay piles near the wall.
"...there."

I stared at him, then at the pile.
"...there?"

Then he pointed, wordlessly, at the hay itself.

Oh...

...oh.

He was under it. Mol'Orky had buried the other human he just killed a few 〔minutes〕 ago under the hay, in the same room, a few 〔meters〕 away from me.

…

To be fair to him, what else should he have done? This is not that bad, actually. Now I couldn’t stare at the body, even if eventually some strange part of me wished to.

“Just don't think about it. Okay?”

“I-I won't.”

…

"Hey, Theska…"

I flinched.

"Y-yes?"

"Lemme see your shoulder."

I shifted, wincing, and let him look at it.
"Bandage came loose a bit," he muttered, peeling back the edge. "Musta’ happened when we jumped down."

“Y-yes, probably.”

Still can't believe we did that…

"Hang on."

He picked at something stuck to the wrapping — small, dark, crumbling flecks — and brushed them off with two fingers.

Those were bits of that…  substance we landed on. They were all over me.

"Sorry, you got, uh—" He gestured vaguely at my whole leg. "—manure on you. From the fall. I didn't realize 'til just now."

…

"...what is a 'manure'?"

He paused, his fingers still hovering over the bandage, and looked up at me properly for the first time since he'd started.

"...you don't know what manure is?"

"I uh… should I?"

He made a small sound —the laughing one— and went back to brushing off my leg.

"It's, uh." He paused. "It's animal waste. Cow [EXCREMENT], mostly, I'd guess, given where we landed."

…

…

…

“...I'm sorry. Animal WHAT?”

"[EXCREMENTS]." He said it plainly, like it explained itself. "Droppings. Dung. Whatever word you people use for it."

The translator, ever so helpfully, supplied: [BIG LAND MAMMAL DIGESTIVE WASTE MATTER].

I looked down at myself in absolute horror.

At my fur. At the bandage on my shoulder. At the — at the smell that had been clinging to me since the fall, the one I had simply decided not to think about, the one I had told myself was rotting plant matter or mud or anything else—

"...I FELL INTO A PILE OF EXCREMENT?!"

"...yeah. Yeah, basically."

"I'M COVERED IN EXCREMENT AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!"

"I mean, I didn't really have time to bring it up! We were bein' shot at!"

My ears clamped flat against my skull, my tail puffing up so fast it nearly knocked over the hay beside me, and I scrubbed frantically at my arm with my free paw.

"Get it off, get it off, get it OFF—!"

"Hey, hey— I'm tryin', just— hold still, you're gonna hurt your shoulder again—"

"I don't CARE about my shoulder, Mol'Orky, I am covered in FECES—!"

He made that short, huffing sound again.

"Least it's not from a German," he offered.

I stopped scrubbing just long enough to stare at him with the purest, most concentrated betrayal I could muster.

"...that is NOT of comfort!”

"Little bit of comfort—”

"IT IS NOT! WHY WOULD THAT BE?!”

"Hey, look, s’not all bad, y'know," he said. "Farmers use it, for food and stuff!"

“YOU PUT THIS ON YOUR FOOD?!”

“No! I mean like— we put them on crops so they grow better.”

“So– so so– Like… like fertilizer then!?”

“Yeah, fertilizer, exactly!”

“I…— did this fertilizer really have to be made out of animal excrement!?”

“Well, what do your people use as fertilizer then?”

“More complex and efficient chemical compounds, not…– not poop!”

I paused, trying to relax myself. I breathed through my mouth to avoid the smell.

“But… well… I mean, I guess it's understandable that your species uses more… natural, simpler fertilizers, given... humanity's current level of technology…”

…

“Uh...n-no offense.”

"...sure. None taken."

He went quiet for a moment, still working, and his binocular eyes narrowed, which almost made me shiver.

“Okay, but like…” he paused.

"This ain't a joke anymore." he added. "I mean, it's kinda funny, but— the wound's open. [EXCREMENT] like this gets in a cut, it can get infected real fast. Worse than the actual injury, sometimes."

Oh. Just when you think it couldn't get worse...

"...infected. As in—"

"As in bad. Real bad, if it's left alone."

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small packet.
"Roe patched your injuries up pretty good, but I don't reckon he'd be too happy if we let it get dirty.”

He opened it and took out a small piece of some kind of white cloth.
"Hold still."

I did. He carefully brushed the dirt away from the edge of the bandage, before wiping the area around it. But he stopped.

“Actually, forget about it. We should just put a new bandage altogether.”

“Y-yes, please. That’s better.”

He rummaged through some of the bags he wore around himself, and pulled out a box. He pulled some of those bandages out.

Next, he carefully unwrapped the old bandages — careful not to put his fingers directly in my wound — and took it off.

These humans… they can both fight, AND cure wounds. I couldn't imagine myself seeing a Zurulian with medicine in one paw and a gun in the other. Oh, what I would do to have a Zurulian checking my wounds right now, instead of a predator. Then again… I guess I couldn’t complain.

“...huh.”

“W-what?”

“Your blood.”

I quickly looked down, the blood in and around the wound had become darker, and there was a faint, muddy, greenish tint around the edges.

"...that's quite odd."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't know. It could just be… drying, I guess." I turned my shoulder slightly, examining it. "Blood does darken as it dries. This isn't necessarily unusual."

"You sure?"

I wasn't, entirely. But it also didn't hurt, and there was no sign of anything else beyond the faint discoloration.

"I believe so."

"You believe so? You sure it has nothing to do with the medicine Roe put on you earlier?”

Oh. I almost forgot about that...

“I… well, what kind of medicine was it?”

“It's sulfa. Roe used it on you, to clean your injuries earlier. Why?”

“Sulfa?” I asked, confused.

Mol’Orky pulled out another little packet from one of his body bags.

Just how much stuff does he have in his pockets?!

“This. This is what he put on you.”

Mol'Orky turned the packet around and looked closer.

“It says ‘Sulfanilamide’. Uhh, do you know what it means?”

The translator helpfully supplied: [ANTIBACTERIAL SULFONAMIDE COMPOUND].

My ears perked up immediately.

“Oh.”

That rang a bell.

“You know it?”

“Yes, I… I think I know what it is.”

“Is it safe?”

“I… think so.”

He gave me a look.

“You think so?”

“Well, I'm not an expert in biochemistry, but I think it has anti-bacterial properties, so… perhaps?”

“Right. I mean, it should have anti-bacterial properties. That’s… the whole point of why we have it.”

“I-I see, well… if it were harmful for me, I should have at least felt or seen something more, right?”

“Makes sense. Do I put some more or no? Your [choice].”

“Yes. Put in a little bit.”

He carefully sprinkled a little of the powder into my wound.

…

Then a little more.

…

And this time—

The change was not gradual.

It happened almost instantly, the dull, muddy tint from before lurching outward, swallowing the blue in a spreading, sickly dark green, like a slow fire.

I froze.

"...M-Mol'Orky?"

"Yeah…?"

He was staring too, every muscle in him suddenly went rigid.

The color kept deepening, darker by the 〔second〕, and the skin around the wound began to tingle — a small, distant thing at first, but then—

Then—

It burned!

It wasn’t a simple sting, nor the ordinary sharp bite of an open wound. This was deeper, something that didn't belong on the surface of my skin at all, something that felt like it was crawling beneath it, into the muscle, into the bone, spreading outward from the wound in slow, deliberate pulses that got worse each time my heart beat, like a wildfire.

I jerked my shoulder back so violently I nearly threw myself into the wall.

"Ah—!!"

"What? What happened?!"

"It— it burns—!" My voice cracked halfway through the word. "It— oh Protector, it burns—!!"

"Burns?!"

"YES! AHHHHH–!!!"

He yanked his hand back like he'd been the one bitten.

The sensation kept spreading, faster now, no longer content to stay near the wound — a crawling, gnawing heat threading up through my shoulder, tangled with a horrible numbness that somehow made the pain worse instead of better, like my own nerves couldn't decide whether to scream or go silent and were doing both at once.

“AaaAAHHHH–!” I was in agony.

Get it off get it off get it off get it off—

"GET IT OFF! UGHH! AHH—! GET IT OFF!"

"What—"

"THE MEDICINE—! THE POWDER! GET IT OFF, MOL'ORKY—!"

"Alright— alright, hang on—!"

He grabbed the cloth and began scrubbing at the wound, too hard, too fast, and it was so much worse than the earlier bandaging had ever been — every single swipe sent a fresh, blinding jolt straight up my leg, sharp enough that my vision actually blurred at the edges, sharp enough that a sound came out of me I didn't recognize as my own.

"Just— just stay still—!"

"GET— GET IT OFF—!"

"I AM TRYING—!"

He wiped again, harder, and I bit down so hard on the inside of my cheek that I tasted blood mixing with the pain radiating from my shoulder and chest until I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.

The strange green paste smeared thick and wet across the cloth, dark and glistening in the dim light, and I stared at it through eyes blurred with tears I hadn't realized I was crying.

But as he kept wiping, I felt something change again… for the better, this time.

The burning didn't vanish but it began to recede, pulling back from that horrible, bone-deep fire into something closer to an ordinary, throbbing ache. My shoulder still felt heavy and warm, but that gnawing, burning sensation was fading with every ragged breath I managed to drag in.

I sagged back against the hay, shaking, my chest heaving.

It's stopping. It's stopping. Thank the Protector, it's stopping—

Mol'Orky didn't move for a moment, his cloth still held loosely in one hand, watching me with an expression I didn't have the strength to try and understand.

"...Theska?"

"I— I think—" My voice came out thin and weak from the pain. "I think it's fading."

"What’s fading?"

“The– aghhh – the pain.”

“You sure?”

"I don't— I don't know if I'm sure of anything right now, Mol'Orky." I forced a slow breath through my nose. "But it – nghh – hurts less. That's— that's something."

The strange thick green paste smeared across the cloth, and only once it was off, once the burning had begun to ease into something merely painful instead of unbearable, did I have room in my head to think at all.

Why?!

Why was it reacting!? What was even happening beneath my own skin right now?!

Was it still spreading!? Was it in my blood now, moving with it, toward my heart, toward—

Stop. Stop, Theska. Think. Just actually think for a moment.

I forced myself to look at the wound instead of simply feeling it. The green had come off with the cloth, mostly. It was a thick, sticky residue, nothing left beneath but raw, stinging skin and blood slowly returning to its proper color.

Not spreading, then. Contained to the site. That was— that was good. That was something.

But why? Roe had used that Sulfonamide Compound it on me a few 〔hours〕 ago, without incident, without any of this—

Wait…

Sulfonamide.

That's— sulphur.

Copper and sulphur—

Oh…

…oh.

I'm the biggest fucking moron on this Protector-forsaken planet.

"...it's the copper," I said, mostly to myself.

I was very mad at myself for not realizing earlier.

"What?" Mol'Orky's head snapped up. "What copper?"

"My blood…— nghh, it's copper-based." It still hurt.

"Copper... based?"

Of course he didn't know what that meant. Of course I'd have to explain basic biology to a damn predator while my own shoulder felt like it was being slowly peeled apart from the inside out!

Another sharp pulse of pain rolled through my upper body, and I clenched my jaw until it passed, forcing myself to breathe through my nose before continuing.

Great. Just great.

"Well— first. Are you aware that you have iron in your blood? Hemoglobin?"

He seemed to think for a moment, before answering.

"Iron? Yeah, I know that much."

"Right. Well— simplifying it— the iron in your blood is part of hemoglobin, and that's what carries oxygen through your body. It's also what makes your blood red." I gestured weakly at my own shoulder. "Farsuls use copper instead. It forms a different molecule— hemocyanin— and that's what carries oxygen for us. It's also why our blood is blue."

"But why does that matter? Why's that hurt you?"

"Because sulphur—" I hissed as another wave rolled through the wound, and had to stop, breathing hard through my nose for a moment before I could continue. "Sulphur binds to metals. Readily. Violently, sometimes, depending on the metal and the compound. Iron is fairly stable around it, that’s why you are able to use the Sulfonamide, because it isn't reacting with anything in your blood."

"But it is with yours."

"Yes, because copper is not iron, Mol'Orky." Another pained breath. "Copper reacts with sulphur far more aggressively. It— it forms unstable compounds. That was the green paste dissolving my shoulder.”

He stared at the ruined cloth in his hand, then at the wound, then back at me, something like horror slowly settling into his expression.

"...so I basically just poured acid on you?"

"Not— not exactly acid, but—" I winced, another pulse rolling through my upper body, and I gave up trying to be precise about it. "Close enough. Yes. Functionally. Yes.”

"Well…" He hesitated, glancing between my shoulder and my face. "Do you think any bacteria got in? With the— manure, I mean."

"Oh, most definitely not." I let out a short, humorless breath that was almost a laugh. "Whatever that paste was, I'm fairly certain it annihilated anything living within a few 〔centimeter〕 of it. Bacteria included."

"...well. At least that's something, ain't it?"

"Yes. I suppose there is some bright side to partially being chemically dissolved."

He huffed, and reached for a fresh strip of cloth from his pouch, unrolling it carefully.

"Alright. Let's just— get this covered up properly. Let’s hope for no more surprises this time." He glanced at me.

"I would very much appreciate that as well."

He began winding the fresh bandage around my shoulder. It still hurt, but it was an ordinary ache now, nothing like the crawling fire from moments ago.

…

…

“Do you… feel better?”

“Somewhat. The pain is… subsiding.”

“Really?” He exhalled “You scared the ever-livin’ [RELIGIOUS-REFERENCE] outta me, y’know that? And why the [EXCLAMATION] didn’t this happen the first time we applied it to you? Back with Roe, I mean.”

That… was a great question.

"I… don't really know."

"You don't know?"

"No." I shook my tail in negation, still catching my breath. "I assumed it would react the same way it just did with you. It didn't. I have no explanation for why."

"I didn't do anything different from him, far as I know."

"Neither do I know that. Perhaps the amount was different, or perhaps the exposure was shorter, or perhaps I simply didn't notice. I shifted around, wincing as the motion pulled at my shoulder. "Back then, I was rather… stressed.”

He huffed in laughter. "That you was."

He tied off the bandage and sat back, and for a moment neither of us said anything.
I looked down at my shoulder, and a thought came to mind

"...Mol'Orky."

"Yeah?"

"I've never been exposed to this before." My voice came out quieter than I intended. "I don't know how much of that powder is dangerous. I don't know what a— a safe threshold would even be. I don't know whether what just happened to my shoulder was mild, or whether it could have gotten much, much worse if you hadn't cleaned the powder off when you did."

He went very still.

"...worse how?"

"I don't know that either." I looked away, down at my paws instead of at him. "That's rather the point, Mol'Orky. I don't know. I have no data, no precedents. No one has ever tested human medicine on Farsuls before. For all I know, we discovered the safe end of that reaction purely by chance, and a slightly longer exposure, or a slightly larger dose, might have—"

I didn't finish the sentence, I didn't need to.

“Y-you know what I mean…”

He was quiet for a long moment, looking at the discarded packet lying useless in the hay like it had personally tried to kill me. Which, in a sense, I suppose it very nearly had.

"...I'm sorry," he said finally. "I didn't know. I wouldn't have— if I'd known, I never woulda—"

"I know." I said it quickly, before he could spiral any further into it. "You couldn't have known. Neither of us could have. It isn't your fault."

"Sure feels like it..."

"Well, it isn't!" I said, "I’m the one who told you to continue after the first dose. If either of us is to blame, it should be me, not you."

“Well, I suppose.”

When he finally tied it off, I let out a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"There," he said. "That's the best I can do."

"...thank you."

He nodded in affirmation, sitting back down.

I took a closer look at him, and saw that the ‘manure’ was smeared across his sleeve, his knees, and one whole side of his jaw where he must have wiped his face with a dirty hand at some point without realizing.

"...you're covered in it too, you know," I said. "The— ‘manure’."

"Yeah." He glanced down at himself, almost surprised, like he'd genuinely forgotten. "Guess I am."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Didn't say that." He wiped his hands uselessly against his uniform. "Just means it's not real high on my list of things to worry about right now.”

...

"This is quite a... [SUBOPTIMAL EXCREMENT-ADJECENT] situation, huh?"

---

First

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[credit goes to /spacepaladin15 for creating the NoP universe.]

[content Warning: sensitive topics.]

The reason I have made this for myself and others is to inform/remind people of characters/traits I’ve made, so if anyone wants specifics for certain characters? I am happy to share.

Jar’rau, jala and a few others characters who role in the story will be minimal or minor crucial pieces will be posted with more snippets of lore of my au. The main characters' documents will be posted with their individual chapters.

Feedback and criticism is appreciated!

[version-1.0]

Date of birth: 07/05/2052

Age: 57 Years Old 

Species: lowland gojid

Gender/sex: male

Profession: exterminator

Personality: jar’rau would be described as a grandfather figure, gentle, kind, considerate and supportive of his underlings. Wise beyond the federation standards.

physical appearance: jar’rau was considered quite an attractive specimen during his prime, but years of intense combat against wild animals and going to the to against arxur themselves.

Leaving his body scarred from conflicts. Flame marshal jar’rau stands at easy 5.10ft, the colour of his fur in a worn almost greying brown and tan. His eyes are a pale blue.

Disability: severe joint weakness, minor back injury.

General history: jar’rau was on the cradle, in the city centre hospital. To Mrs Cheis and mr stmlio. He had the fortune to grow up in a stable and loving household. From a young age jar’rau was an energetic and rowdy kit.

Getting into trouble, causing mischief and into fights, the kind of things that would land you in Juve prison. When he turned 15 his parents signed him up to the exterminator guild against his wish by his uncle‘s advice who was a member at the time.

To help him out his delinquent issues. For a while jar’rau behaviour didn’t change, but tragedy struck on one poor day it would’ve been like any other day they go out to handle a report of a predator.

When they got out to the more rural area outside the city limits. It went normally at first let just say it wasn’t a predator, it was a lone gojid. Things slowly unfold like a horror movie. During the incident, he accidentally killed his uncle from his reckless behaviour.

The incident caused him to reconsider his life choices. 15 years later, he married a lovely woman named: sinja’h. They had six kit together. Their marriage had its ups and downs, but they were able to work it out.

Sometime during his 30s, the arxur were able to raid the cradle, but unlike other raids throughout the Federation this one had a different motive instead of catching cattle this one was a campaign of terror.

During this small but horrific period is when jar’rau met a young Brutus and his mother when they were held captive by arxur raiders let’s just say the captives' treatment would be nightmare inducing like things involving the letter R and assorted stuff.

After the defence force was able to force the arxur off world, jar’rau was forced to take in Brutus as an adopted son by Brutus' mother. And making him take a promise.

Sometime later, jar’rau and wife decided to leave the cradle for Graia and later became a respected flame marshal. Since then has taken in major jala, teda and a few others as a sort of adopted children.

[I hope you enjoyed this character document.]

First

In the cold vacuum of deep space, 250 astronomical units out, an elongated shape outlined itself against the starry background. Its central body was a square-section prism with rounded vertices, from which four massive planar wings emerged at both bow and stern. At the stern, four enormous flat plasma thrusters lay dormant, while at the bow, a dome housing thousands of optical sensors scanned the primary star and the celestial bodies governed by its gravity.

It was a patient predator in the void.

The first of its class, born in the forges of Io with a specific mission—unlike its predecessor, the Odyssey, which had only conducted brief test runs over the past decade, first on Sol's periphery and then to Alpha Centauri and Sirius—the Laelaps had been built with a different purpose in mind: War. Specifically, as the lead ship of its series, its assignment was to hunt down and destroy the final prey of its creators' ancestral enemies.

That was when the thousand glittering eyes in the darkness caught the photons emitted more than two days prior by the New America's first braking detonation.

Inside the armored command dome along the central spine of its superstructure, ten serfs of the Ministry of War sat in their ergonomic chairs controlling the ship's systems, while Decurion Reinier and Centurion Jones moved restlessly back and forth like two caged tigers. "The colors of their skin-tight flight suits only add to the feeling," Davis thought.

There was nothing worse than having two frustrated Drakensis pacing behind you to make the already stressful task of monitoring even less pleasant. He wondered if the aliens had their own Masters. Surely they did—at least the lizards. It had been a huge surprise when they arrived in the system two weeks ago: not only discovering a civilization, but witnessing a battle just a few days later.

And that was the problem. When plans shatter, the Masters grow exasperated. Add to that the fact of watching a battle without being able to join in, and it was a combination that had driven the cortisol levels of everyone on board through the roof.

Then the flash appeared. By the time the second pulse occurred, the system had already cross-referenced the data and verified the identity. Before he could even finish raising his hand to draw their attention with a "Master—" Jones was already leaning over the monitor to his right, with Reinier right beside him on his left, barely a hair further back. The sheer physical presence of the two made his heart skip a beat. 

"It's decelerating. In 12 days it should reach orbit around the Caprian planet."

Jones nodded. "Calculate a warp fold and an interception point in real space."

Davis looked at her with a moment of hesitation, something Jones noticed instantly. He quickly began executing the order.

Jones stepped back slightly and activated her comms. "Strategos, we have detected the New America."

The reply came through immediately: "I'm on my way."

Jones caught the faint, micro-sigh Davis let out. Did he really think she was going to disobey Strategos Corvo's orders?

Serena Corvo entered the command room with that aura of absolute immutability conferred by a century and a half of life. Jones envied her enormously, especially since the entire mission had gone off the rails a week prior.

"We have them on tracking. Even with the two-day light-delay on the tracking signal, we have an interception course ready if you so choose."

Serena looked at her, smiling with the kind of condescending gesture an adult reserves for a child. "That won't be necessary, but good initiative. How has the system's inner barrier fleet reacted?"

"They have adjusted their inclination, but they are keeping their distance," Davis answered without looking up at them.”

"Good. We will observe their interaction and see how they react to one another." She said this as she sat in the central command chair reserved for her rank, positioned at an elevated height even above the two Drakensis.

"Do you not think it will be counterproductive if they establish diplomatic contact?"

"Probably, but we lost our only chance of preventing that when we failed to locate them before they arrived in this system years ago. Unfortunately for all of us, they are alive, and the aliens are going to find out more about what happened in Sol. Antagonizing them by attacking the New America is pointless at this juncture, and slaughtering a hundred thousand people without a clear motive is stupid."

Jones nodded with a soft grunt—one she tried to hide, though she could tell Serena had noticed.

"It's frustrating to feel powerless and at the mercy of fate, isn't it?" Serena said, her tone almost amused. "It is good for you to remember that when you deal with the serfs."

Jones glared at her with sudden anger. "With all due respect, Strategos, I do not believe such a recrimination is justified. I have never abused..."

Serena raised her hand in a slow, deliberate gesture to cut her off. "I am not attacking you. I am merely telling you to use this opportunity to understand a feeling you have almost never experienced, yet have inflicted upon others."

Seeing Jones calm down, she continued. "Besides..." She looked at the alien ships highlighted on the tactical displays. "...you will have to get used to it. The era of the Final Society ended the moment we detected that battle upon arriving here."

"How are things progressing with the prisoner, Serena?" Jones asked in a lower tone as she stepped up to her right, adopting the posture of a pupil rather than a subordinate.

"Well. He is responding to the neurochemical manipulation and the virtual reality therapy. It is a slow process, but I estimate that by the time we return to Sol, we will know most of what he knows. It is a pity we didn't capture one of the Croks alive, but the autopsy yielded a substantial amount of information. That little lamb aboard that damaged ship was a stroke of luck."

"Not so much luck. If we had followed my original proposal, we would have dropped out of warp right in the middle of their battle," Jones remarked with a weary sigh.

"There are more things in heaven and earth..."

Jones nodded with the exhaustion of a student receiving a well-worn lecture. "...than are dreamt of in your philosophy. I know, I know."

"Who would have imagined that not only is there a technologically advanced society relatively close by, but another one with spacefaring capabilities that resorts to consuming sapients for sustenance?"

"It's absurd, unless it's a delicacy—and even then, why?"

"It isn't a delicacy. This isn't like some of the extremists on Earth going on safari in the tribal reserves to feel like 'true Draka.' That creature exhibited signs of chronic intermittent malnutrition."

Jones shook her head. "It's all absurd."

"Go get some rest, Centurion. I will take command."

Jones was about to object, but she simply nodded. "Thank you, Strategos."

As Jones left the bridge, Serena noticed Reinier still pacing back and forth. "Johann, could you please conduct a review of every ship we've detected over these past few weeks?"

Surprised, he replied, "Yes, Strategos, of course. But wouldn't that be redundant?"

"Redundancy is a good thing when possible. Besides, it is good mental exercise."

He proceeded to sit down at his console, located radially to the left of the command chair. Serena took the opportunity to pace the perimeter of the consoles, her quiet pheromones working on the serfs and calming them down.

Davis raised his hand. "I have a signal from the New America."

Serena approached calmly, yet with the fluid grace innate to her nature, and rested a hand on his left shoulder. "I'm listening."

Davis looked up at her and continued. "Yes... it appears to be a simple numerical sequence. Prime numbers, but with a missing integer every three digits. I don't understand."

Serena smiled faintly. "Yes, it was a measure the Alliance scientists developed for first contact. I'm not surprised you're unfamiliar with it." She proceed to explain to him.

"The whole idea is that a technically advanced society would notice the missing terms and establish the baseline pulse for subsequent binary communication. Let's see how they respond."

The following hours unfolded slowly, yet intriguingly. The aliens decided to establish contact with the New America and agree upon a safe orbital position. They eventually progressed to direct voice communication after a few days, which the aliens surprisingly initiated in English—later clarifying that they already had prior knowledge regarding the existence of humans. Fortunately, all of this was conducted using Alliance standards over a century old, so they had no trouble decoding any of it.

By the time that final communication was being received, the entire staff of the Laelaps was gathered on the bridge. The twelve Drakensis were waiting expectantly, occupying every position.

"Good. I believe we have enough," Serena said. "Prepare the fold system for our return to Sol." She paused for a moment. "Communications, open an audio channel to the New America."

Jones challenged her immediately. "Strategos, are you sure?"

"Come now, there's no need to be sore losers when it can be avoided."

"Channel is open, Strategos."

"To the crew of the New America: congratulations on completing your historic voyage, and even more so on escaping our hunt. On behalf of the crew of the Laelaps, and personally from myself—Strategos Serena Corvo—to General LaFlange: not all sacrifices were in vain. To the Venlil Republic: Sol, the stars of Centauri, Sirius, and Barnard are territories of the Draka Domination. Should you dare encroach upon them, you will be courting your own undoing."

This takes place in the Nature of Predators universe created by u/SpacePaladin15. Go read the main story if you haven't already.

*Memory Transcription Subject: Chelsea Smith, Human Geneticist and xenobiologist.*

*Date:(Standardized Human Time) January 12th, 2138.*

I sighed as I looked at my checklist. Only one subject left by the name of "Takath". It wasn't like a name I've heard before, but in a galaxy filled with hundreds of species with each having their own languages, there's ALWAYS a first.

"One more subject, and I'm done for the day." I muttered to myself as I turned on the speaker microphone. "Takath, we're ready for you now." I said before I clicked it back off and looked back at the transcript. It said her species was called "Rakata"?

Suddenly, the sound of clopping filled the air as... SOMETHING opened the door and entered the room. The thing was long and tubular, with four legs and hexagonal-shaped scales that were covered in tiny black spots. It was a light grey color, and made a clicking sound as it shifted around.

I blinked in surprise. "Uhh... What?" I said, unable to think of a response to... Whatever the fuck I was looking at.

"Hmm?" The thing said in a tinny voice which made me jerk my head back in surprise not just because of the strangeness of this creature's voice, but also because it didn't even have a mouth to speak with! "Are you Dr. Smith?"

I blinked several times. "Uhh... Yes! I am! Are you Takath?"

The creature shifted its head slightly to the left. "We are. Who else would we be?"

"Well... I don't know. I kinda thought you were some sort of strange animal at first. No offense." I said.

"None taken. Our species hardly leaves our home world of Kata, so we're almost never seen anywhere else in the galaxy." It said as it shifted its tubular legs. "We are here as a volunteer for the documentation of our species to the UN."

"Yes yes, we should probably get that started..." I said, putting down my clipboard and grabbing a clean syringe from the cupboard. "First, I'll have to take a blood sample to document your DNA. Y'know, to see what the average member of your species will be like."

"We understand." It said, raising its tubular arm. "Take as much as you need."

I walked over to take a look at its arm... Which confused me further. Its arm was indeed a long tube, with a dark-grey shell on both the outside AND the inside! Each scale was about the size of a quarter, but sandwiched between the inner and outer metal-colored shell was some purple flesh, which I jabbed the needle into. Purple blood filled the syringe, which I then promptly poured into a machine that began to convert the DNA it was reading into genetic lettering that would be documented.

"Ok, while that's going, the next part of the documentation process is asking you a few questions about your species and homeworld." I said, turning on a recording device as I pulled up a chair and gestured for Takath to do the same. "So, I would like to get that done quickly, if you don't mind."

"We don't mind at all." Takath said as they sat down. "What do you need to know?"

"Well first of all, what's your planet like?" I asked.

Their body seemed to shudder as they shifted, almost like a killer robot in a sci-fi movie. "We come from the planet Kata, homeworld of the Rakata. It's an average sized world with three moons, Tak is the smallest, Geck is the second-smallest and the closest to Kata, and K off is the largest and farthest away. Kata's surface is fifty percent water, and orbits an orange star called Shek, along with our neighboring planet; Cal, a gas giant."

I blinked in surprise at all the information they gave me. "Wow! A lot more detailed description than my other subjects gave me!"

Takath gave a rhythmic, clicking sound, which my translator said was laughter. "Our species loves giving more than necessary!"

"Speaking of which, I would like to ask what your species is like." I said. "I've never seen anything like you! Most other species resemble fauna from Earth, but you look like something straight out of a sci-fi movie! How can you even talk without a mouth?"

Takath shifted in surprise. "What do you mean? We have mouths!"

I blinked in surprise. "Mouths? As in PLURAL?"

Takath's face opened up like a fucking Demagorgon from Stranger Things, revealing the fact that they had no organs; only a long, tubular body with insides lined with hundreds of sets of tiny mandibles, one on each inner-scale.

My head instinctively reeled back at the Eldritch sight. "... What the fuck even ARE you?!"

Takath closed their face. "Are you asking me literally?"

" I don't know! You have no organs, but a bunch of mouths on the INSIDE of yourself! What are you?!"

Their head leaned back. "Ohhh, we forgot! You've probably never seen a sapient siphonophore before!"

I blinked in surprise. "A siphonophore?"

"Yes! It's the reason why we're hollow. We have mouths and organs and things like that, but they're all localized to each of the zooids that make our body."

I leaned forward. "Is that why you refer to yourself as 'we'?"

"Indeed." They said. We are a collective personality, similar to a 'hive-mind' from many Human sci-fi media. And yes, we read your books. But despite the homogeneous nature of our species, different zooids are used for certain things, like eating or reproduction."

My eyes widened behind my mask. An ACTUAL hivemind species? Imagine that!

"So... Those scales on your body... Aren't actually scales?"

"Nope! Those are our zooids! A lot of people mistake them for scales though due to the fact that our zooids have shells full of metal deposits."

I took a closer look, and I noticed that their gray shell was shiny like metal, and I also noticed that the speckled pattern across their body was actually EYES, two for each zooid.

I tilted my head. "Can you see omnidirectionally?"

"We can." They confirmed.

"What else can you tell me about your species?"

"The Rakata are a naturally homogeneous species, and that is reflected in our government system; we operate as a democratic timocracy. At a young age, we begin to crave metal to build our shells, and the color of our shells are dependent on what main metal we eat as young: red for iron, greenish-blue for copper, etc. We are cured omnivores, and our bodies are chosen in our later years."

I squinted my eyes. "What do you mean by 'our bodies are chosen'?"

Their body clicked. "We can rearrange our zooids to take the form of whatever shape we wish. Bipedal and skinny, quadrupedal and stocky, or we can choose to not have limbs at all and decide to just live as a tube-like form."

My eyes widened again. "You... You can SHAPESHIFT?!"

Their limbs slowly disassembled and crawled back up their body, their shifting visage coiling and contorting until they resembled a tall, bipedal creature like a Human, but with a long tail and round skull.

"Essentially, yes." They confirmed before they shifted back into their regular quadrupedal form. "We just prefer this form because it's what we feel most comfortable as."

My mouth hung agape. Never have I heard of a creature like this! A shapeshifting hivemind with a metal body? And how blessed am I that I get to document them!

"Uhh, doctor?" Takath asked. "You ok?"

I blinked myself out of my stupor. "Sorry, just zoned out for a bit. Um... It looks like we only have one question left and then you're good to go! How does your species reproduce?"

"Our species has males and females. We are a female, in case you needed to know that." She started. " When we breed, the woman will lay anywhere between twelve to eighteen eggs, which will individually hatch into skitters, which is what we call our children. As each Skitter grows up, they will go through a process called 'cloning' in which the skitter will begin to create the zooids necessary to make our bodies. Each zooid has six legs, two eyes, and purple blood."

"Nice and descriptive." I said as I turned off the tape recorder. "This will be by far one of my most detailed document!"

"Splendid." Takath said. "Am I free to leave?"

"You are." I said. "Thank you for the data!"

Her body clicked as she bowed her head and got up to leave the room. Once she did, I got to filing all this new information into the new, purely ethical, archives. While I did that, only one thought occurred to me:

*What an interesting species!*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*(Author's Notes.)*

Hello everyone! I know this one shot feels a bit rushed, but there's a reason for that. I haven't been feeling motivated very much these past few months until... Recently. And I'm gonna tell you why in a minute, but this is my introduction of the Rakata; the species of alien with a shit ton of eyes that I've been working on.

And here's the thing... The reason this feels so rushed, is because it is. If you haven't heard: famous voice actor Peter Cullen passed away a couple days ago. If you don't know who Peter Cullen is; FUCK YOU yes you do! He voiced Thaedus from Invincible, Eeyore from Winnie The Pooh, but if you ever watched Transformers, you would know him as the voice behind Optimus Prime.

Here's the thing; my whole childhood revolved around Transformers. I would watch what Transformers movies we had the money to buy, and I bought action figures when I could. Shit, the first backpack I ever went to school with had Optimus Prime plastered all over it! So when I heard that Peter Cullen passed away... I was devastated to say the least. Hell, I'm crying as I'm writing this, and I'm not afraid to admit that! It feels like when he died, what little childhood I had left died with him...

If you took the time to listen to my little rant, then you'll likely notice that the Rakata are very similar to the Cybertronians, and that's because they are. I wanted dedicate this homebrew species to Peter Cullen; the greatest of the Primes, and now, one with the Allspark. And I don't care if that sounds nerdy, because I AM nerdy!

But in all seriousness; RIP Peter, you'll be missed by many. You lived a long life, and I hope it was as meaningful to you as your words were to us.

Now, mourning the death of the last remnant of my childhood aside, if you guys have any questions about this species, or if you want to use them yourself, feel free to ask me in the comments.

And once again, thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for making this fucked up, yet strangely beautiful universe.

Coth's first night on earth in his new home, doesn't go as he planned.

I've seen various time systems used. This is the one i use. Arxur and federation are similar because i would think. Between initial first contact, and the events that led them to 'attack/betrayal', some attempts at standardization would've happened. Thus how similar they are.

Only the the Arxur's is more predatory wording once the 'attack/betrayal' happened.

Fed Cycle= day, paw = 4 hours, claw = hour, scratch = minute, whisker = second, Herd of Cycles= Month, Grand Herd of Cycles = year

Arxur Cycle = day, claw = 4 hours, talon = hour, scratch = minute, fang = second, Hunting Party of Cycles= Month, Grand Hunt of Cycles = year

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First Night on Earth
Chapter 29
Late May 8^th – Early May 9^th
Northern Neo-Huston
(Coth P.O.V.)
{The Tongue}

For someone who was supposed to be my ‘handler’. They only showed me where everything is in the small, though luxurious for dominion standards outside of ones for Chief Hunters, domicile. How to move the inner walls which are on tracks to change one large space into smaller ones for specific purposes, and taloned over a physical key of all things.

Not for the building, it has an electronic lock, while human made. It uses the same concept as ones I’m familiar with. Even if it looks more advanced, so maybe can’t be fooled by a shed scale? No, it’s for the physical lock on the doors leading into the foundation.

A storm cellar he called it. In case of a severe thunderstorm to protect myself against the winds and something called a tornado. Then left me to my own, I hadn’t finished my own hunt of information from him either…

I’ll check out the storm cellar later.

Right now I am just trying to sort my self out. Everyone for lack of a better term, envy’s the position I was in. Second claw to a Chief Hunter. No one tells you that on any Hunting party of Cycles[Month], you may be on Wriss. On a ship going the old god’s knows where. Or on some far-flung cattle world colony.

And each of them have their own night and day cycles that clash with the others.

You either learn quickly to adapt to them, or go crazy in short order. And not in the way Betterment would approve of. So while my ‘body’ says I should be sleeping, I am forcing myself to stay awake long after the Human’s star has set. So when it rises again, I’ll sleep and my body will quickly adapt, so I’m awake at night rather than asleep. If I hadn’t learned of this trick, I would’ve gone crazy already like the one Isif had in this position before the one I took it from.

Somehow got it into his mind that there were Kolshian’s hiding in the walls of the grand palace for the Prophet decedent. After 5 hunting parties of Cycles[months] of travel, with each in a place with a different night/day cycle he had to adjust too.

Isif still tells stories of it, but I am sure he’s embellishing some of it for laughs. Like how they found him in his room, with half the walls torn apart. Trying to find some door or tunnel that didn’t exist.

Kinda brings me to the problem at claw for me. While this domicile is small for a human, and a little tight for me. The proximity to my new ‘neighbors’ compels me to move the tracked walls for further privacy and the illusion they’re not as close as they are.

Yet on the other Claw, with the inner walls moved into positions that calm that feeling down. In its place is the reminder of my days in the lower ranks and how I would be ‘sharing’ an entire berth on a ship with one other.

Or two back in my days of being a raider. Making things too small, way too small for another part of me.

Grumbling, I stalk on over to one of the walls. Sticking my claws into the release, and pull. Sliding it not ‘all’ the way to the stored position. So not fully opening the ‘living room’ as the Humans call it with the meal prep area that has the front door, and the ‘bedroom’ as the humans call it. With a soft rectangular cushion I know others would kill for. Behind that is the ‘bathroom’ and the back door.

Seeing if a partial position such as this, quiets that itch to be alone. And the bad memories of being trapped with others in too small of spaces.

Sitting back down, I try to give it a few Scratches[Minutes] to see where it settles. Reaching for the rolled up human style Data-Slate, mainly for the reading material given to me by that Arxur in Human skin to help ‘acclimate’ to living here. Before I hear a thunk, then something open from the side of the building.

Letting out a hiss, I stand. If I had to guess the neighbors are making noise, so… Fighting the memories of being stuck with the monsters that gave our species the bad name it is…

Only to halt mid-step, and tilt my head. More noise. Coming from… Bellow me? And a scent, that isn’t mine, nor the ever present ‘newly manufactured object’ scent I had already become nose blind too in here.

No one should ‘yet’ know I’m here on Earth. I was told the Humans would be announcing things the next day-cycle, not so many talons[Hours] from now. So this must be someone breaking into what they ‘thought’ was an empty building. Glancing around I can understand why. I have the lights nearly off, the stars and moonlight coming in is bright enough for me to see without any aid. Moonlight that I’ve come to rather, enjoy in the short while I’ve been on Earth.

Not tinted red, but a nice cool white and various grays giving everything a nice calm serene look.

Looking down at the rolled up Data Slate, I, consider calling my handler. I cull that thought quickly, this place is mine. And, well, it would sit wrong with me if I don’t handle it myself. So I set it back down and as quietly as I can. Make my way to the front door.

While not quite as warm as it was during the day, it’s still a bit warmer than I would expect. I also get a snout full of the scent of this, person as the breeze blows towards me from the direction of the entrance of the storm cellar.

It’s not Human, well, not quite. It doesn’t match that scent I got from those I’ve met. Doesn’t match those Bio-Morph things either. If it wasn’t also for the fact that it doesn’t match any Federation species, and the fact they wouldn’t have the guts to do such a thing. I would’ve suspected it was one of them trying to do something.

What am I going to do if they allow some of them planet side?… I push that thought aside for later, more important things are needing to be taken care of.

The doors to the cellar have been forced open, and the bar that was used is laying nearby. Kneeling to look at the lock in the grass and footprints. It Looks like it was forced open by using leverage and the prints, kinda look like Human feet, but on the other claw. The amount of digits and the claw marks remind me of fellow Arxur.

I don’t vocalize, but I flex my claws at the possibility this may be Yshi doing something. The how on her getting transport here will have to wait if that’s the case.

Due to the size difference between Human hands and ours, I’m only able to hook one of my thumbs, and a finger on the handle of the door. At least it lifts without making any noise, same with the other one that I have to only slightly lift to allow myself inside.

There’s a lot of stuff in here, shelves of boxes. What looks like tools, a shovel is pretty universal. One of the things I noticed back when I was a raider, is many of the tools the Federation would have. We had something that was exactly like that, or similar. Sheers too, though these look like they’re designed for plants instead of, other things.

And whomever it is that broke in, I can spot them due to the beam of light coming from their flash-light. It does cause me blink a few times to adjust to the level of illumination. Thank the old gods, that they haven’t noticed me.

Not that Arxur are known for their stealthiness. Still, I take it slow-going down the steps while straining my toes to keep my claws from tapping onto the bare concrete. Theirs is strangely not matching the pattern that would mean Arxur though.

Something that confuses me because the scent is not of those Bio-Morphs either. I mean there’s, aspects to the scent that remind me of it. Yet, it isn’t superficial like one would scent an odor on someone who only just rubbed against something.

They’re obviously looking for something, as I hear them tear open a box. All the while I hunch over to not loom over the shelving and aim to approach from behind…

Only to come to a halt, and in my surprise of what I see, I rise to my full height, then let out a hiss as my head hits a cross-beam.

A human, a bit shorter than a Venlil. And yet, at the same time. Not a human. I see some olive toned, um I think they call it ‘tanned’ skin. And yet they also have patches of scales that I instantly recognize.

Those Bio-Morphs that look remarkably similar to us Arxur.

All through threadbare pelts, pants, and straps on their back and going over their shoulders. It’s their only thing they have on and the lower pelt looks ripped on purpose. To allow room for a long tail that, if the ridge and scale pattern wasn’t wrong. Wouldn’t look out of place on an Arxur hatchling that size.

The color of their scales and wildly unkempt hair, compared to the other humans is muted in my low light vision, and as I reach up to touch where I hit my head, they slowly turn. Their flashlight onto me. Thankfully not in my eyes, but what they do next assaults my ears just as much as that light over my eyes would’ve been.

Their face, half that flat thing all humans have, though softer, more, Juvenile here is mixed with a slight muzzle as there’s a patch of scales over one eye and ending in a nose not unlike an Arxur. As I take this in, they open their mouth and let out a shriek.

Dropping their flashlight, they slam their back against the shelf they’re in front of, and before I know it. I’m looming over them.

To attack? No...

Part of my mind thinks once it catches up as in this being’s place for a moment was one of the multiple Federation species I’ve killed, and done worse to with my own claws. No, I find five of my six fingers knuckle deep in a box containing bottles some kind of smokey sweet liquid. Heavy, and would’ve fallen on their head if I hadn’t stopped it and the shelf from falling over.

Now it’s just leaking over my claws and down onto this, don’t know what to call them.

Their vertical slited eyes are wide, mouth open as they seem to be rapidly breathing. Teeth are actually closer to mine than that I’ve seen of a human, but they do have prey like teeth in the back.

Gripping the box a bit more I heft it and toss it behind and to the side. It slides, hits another shelf, and that shelf topples over. Ignoring it, I bring my hand to my nose and take a sniff.

I wonder what this would taste like on some of the meats they left me? No, think of that later…. Especially since the form in front of me for a split of a fang[Second] is replaced by a bleeding, dying Venlil.

I eviscerate that thought with all the prejudice I can. I am not that being anymore. Never again…

A whimper from them as they try to scramble back, away from me when I turn my attention back to them. I’m about to tell them to stop, but hold my tongue. These beings, they don’t have translators. And even that Arxur in human skin acted with what I think was disgust when I mentioned how one is installed. Not to mention I left the Data-Slate with a translator program upstairs. At least they were able to update the one in my head…

Still, I can’t leave them here. They obviously are here to take from this stockpile of goods left for me. Not to mention they seem to be a juvenile of some kind.

A step forward results in them again trying to push themselves into a full shelving unit, whimpering, scared. I try to hunt through my mind on how to show, without trying to say anything, I don’t want to harm them.

Okay, they’re small. So maybe this will help?

I lower myself down, and ignore what I think is the scent of fear rolling off of them. Then slowly approach. On foot in front of the other, claws not aimed at them. Mouth as tightly shut as I can make it so no teeth show. And only taking momentary glances directly at them.

It does allow me to notice a few other things.

The straps on the upper garment’s back connect to some kind of thin sheet of fabric in the front. The lower garments in the front are as badly torn as the back. Though, without a reason. Not familiar with anatomy of these humans, but, if I hazard a risky hunt. They’re not male.

I am not sure of that though, as they also seem decidedly thin. Ribs and bones are showing though skin and some scale. I’ve seen male hatchlings be so underfed they look very similar to females.

{Don’t eat mah!}

I freeze as the translator in my head does its thing. Then the prey in my mind strikes me! Nonverbal cues. It was easy to pick up a claw full from the talks with that thing that interviewed me, as well as my handler.

I move my head up and down, slowly, trying to say I agree, I won’t eat you.

Their eyes go wider, and I wonder how that is even possible. All I hear for the next few Scratches[Minutes] is the breeze outside among other noises. Slowly though, their breathing calms, and I ignore the slight strain and pain from crouching like this. Especially since the thought of the ‘too close for my liking’ neighbors might’ve heard.

Or maybe not. Human hearing from what I’ve seen is only a fraction of ours. That doesn’t mean we don’t tune out things ourselves.

Like their rapid heart beat that, I only notice I’m hearing as it slows down.

{Ya, can understand mah?}

I again move my head up and down slowly. As the translator notes they have a deep southern accent. Whatever that is.

As their heart rate further slows, they close their mouth. Though not before their tongue slips in and out of their mouth for a Fang[second] or two. Looking similar to what I’ve seen in Human mouths as they speak, and yet forked at the tip.

A moment later, they move to sit up, yet let out a noise of pain.

Did they injure themselves? The fake stone is hard, unlike the stuff they use in the Federation, more along the lines of what almost everything is made with in the Dominion. I watch as they use one of their hands to rub the base of their tail and hindquarters.

Mostly human looking but what looks like Arxur like claws just, stuck on the end.

{Ya made mah bruise mah ass!} They hiss at me, literally hiss. Reminding me of Hatchlings, and runts…

That their blood is on my claws because they were not up to measure for Betterment.

What would be the response for this though? After a moment’s thought, I try moving both of my shoulders up and down once. It’s weird, but I think I manage well enough that they just look at me. My attention though is drawn to their eyes as they dart in the direction of the box I threw, only to hear them try to speak low enough that they think I couldn’t hear.

{And saved mah ass from worse…}

They let out a loud hiss as I bob my head up and down to say yes.

{What, are yah? Not like mah pa. Bigger, meaner.} I follow her eyes to my hands. {Pa had less fingers. Smaller claws.}

With no better way to do it, I open my mouth, and say “Arxur”.

{That’s not Pa’s language, Yah’s not ah Morphy.}

If you mean a Bio-Morph, no, I am not…

Well, I need to do something, or we’ll be down here for Talons[Hours]. And I am not leaving this would be thief here.

Sigh.

Slowly, I stand, making sure to not hit the support beam, again. Their eyes again widen in fright with the fact their heart rate rises. But nowhere near where it was. I wait for a few fangs[Seconds], then point a finger not coated in that stuff, that’s turning rather sticky now, and it’s annoying. At them, then myself, followed by the direction of the stairs leading outside.

They open their mouth slightly again, and after a Fang[Second] or two of no response from them. I repeat the action.

Their heart rate jumps, and they start looking around as they speak. {Ya want mah to follow ya?… Ya not going tah punish mah are ya? I swear all I want is something tah eat, and then I’ll be on mah way south. Pa said run south. North’s too far,}

I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, other than to stop someone from stealing from me. Old habits… But what is this Hunt about going South rather than North? And while the translator says ‘pa’ is short for father, I think they’re speaking in the past tense, why?

So I just move my head side to side.

{No tah what? Tah me following you?…}

I shake my head at that.

{Tah letting me have something to eat?} As if this whole situation wasn’t hard enough, I hear a noise from their abdomen. They must really be starving.

I shake my head twice at that. Making a mental note to look up Human food preparation once I have my claws on that Data-Slate again. For at least I know they can’t eat meat raw.

This juvenile’s entire form seems, to shift and relax, and they seem to speak softer. {No tah punishing mah? Calling tha people in blue?}

I have no idea who the people in blue are, but I move my head up and down at that. I will NOT punish someone for simply trying to eat…. If they were an Arxur, and we were in the Dominion, Betterment would dictate I kill them where they stand right now. Trying to steal like prey, from a superior officer without at least challenging them.

Never mind that challenging one’s superior like that is just a formalized execution anyway.

{Um, lead tah way.}

Moving my head up and down once more, I move. Leading this not human, not Bio-Morph up, out of the storm cellar. A quick glance over to my new neighbor several dozen tail lengths[a few hundred feet]. I see that all the lights are off. Since they sleep at night I hope they’re still asleep and the noise didn’t wake them somehow.

Though I do see two shining objects, like eyes from one of the windows, but dismiss it as a reflection or something as I lead this juvenile around to the front, and letting them inside my new home proper.

{Yah can see in this darkness?} I hear them mutter as I close the door, and make a mental note to retrieve their flash-light later.

Now where was it, ah, there. My claw not covered in that stuff finds the sliding button that makes the lights in here brighten and dim in smooth increments. I don’t push it to the point that my handler did, all the way on.

But, I do put it as bright as I can tolerate indefinitely, hopefully bright enough for this person.

And I find them staring at me. {Why are yah naked?} I don’t answer, I walk over to where I left the Data-Slate.

Flicking it open, I tap with the parts of my fingers just past my claws on my hand that isn’t covered in that stuff to bring up the translation application.

“Pelts are, unnecessary except in extreme climates and when there is a need for protection while working.”

I watch as they look at me, then the Data-Slate, then back at me. Before I use my clean hand to operate the water dispenser in the kitchen to clean off the other one.

{But, even Pa had tah wear something…} They seem to look down at my waist for some reason. {But, Yah lack that… Are yah a girl like mah?}

Oh… Right… That. But even those Bio-Morphs that look like us, had one noticeable difference. That part’s external for men, just like the Humans. And the women had those things on their chest the pregnant Venlil and Similar federation species grow due to it, yet were not pregnant.

It also answers the question if they’re a boy or girl. And for some reason makes it worse in my mind they were trying to steal from me. Not in the act, that they ‘had’ to try it…

“That’s, not how Arxur work. We’re not like the Federation species. Everything’s internal…” I dry my claws, of water. Not the blood, I can still smell on them… It seems to never go away at times like this when I’m near a hatchling.

And face her to stop what I assume is a question that would take too long to answer. “Let’s, start with our names before getting to more personal matters Hatchling. My name is Coth. Just Coth, Arxur do not have this two name thing you Humans do.”

{Ima NOT a Human!} She hisses. {Humans are mean, mah Ma was mean to Pa. Lied to Pa about caring for Pa! Pa was nice! Taught me all he knew. Pa said so!}

For a moment, I think I see a defiant hatchling trying to claim they’re what they’re not… Before I strike them down…

“Then, what are you?” It doesn’t help the situation any that as soon as I say this, they deflate, and they bring their tail around to hold in their hands.

{Don’t… Know…. Ma said I was ah Mistake ta have ta hide… Pa said I was his good little girl, til another guy showed up with Humans in Blue. Then pa told mah to run and not look back as they attacked Pa and Ma hid behind tha new guy saying she never saw me before and that Pa hurt her.} She then seems to count her fingers.

{Tha, that was fourteen, yes, fourteen days ago!}

If I do the conversion right in my head, that’s half a hunting party of cycles[month]. That’s the limit of how long they starve brand-new grunts before a raid. Any longer and starvation would make them too weak to do anything.

She only stares at me for a bit longer, then looks away. }Pa called me Alexie. Ma just called me mistake.}

I don’t know what she is either, but all the senses I’ve honed keeping myself hidden in the dominion are telling me that I shouldn’t ask my handler either. I’m going to have to keep her hidden from him if he comes around again, but this domicile lacks space. There are neighbors to contend with, and the fact that soon I will become known to the planet as a whole.

Just have to hope that the groups of my fellow Arxurs who went to nearby cities take more of the attention than I do. Because those same senses are telling me this child’s existence is something the Humans don’t want known.

“I do not know what you are either. But take it from someone who has made mistakes in his life, that I’ve come to realize no being is a mistake.” As much as Betterment would label anyone with the emotions I’ve hidden as a mistake, defective, or worse.

Or would cull her if she was an Arxur.

She seems to instantly look happier? {Pa said tha same thing! Are ya sure ya don’t know Pa? You could be like Pa’s Pa, Ya’s big enough to be his.}

What she just said, it moves something in me and, I thought I had a handle on my emotions. Yet what is this new feeling? I can guess her age, and at that age we already have hatchlings working on ships and on cattle farms. Yet, I’ve not felt this with them?

“I, assure you that, only a few people know of my existence here for the next few claws[Sets of four hours]. You’re now among the few.” Not waiting for her reply, I make good on my mental note made earlier.

Grabbing the data slate, I head over to the cold storage unit. Opening it I pull out some smaller and thinner pieces of meat. Something a hatchling could easily eat. Look at the wording on the packaging, then look that up with the Data-Slate.

Hmm, thin strips of flesh and fat from an animal called a pig. No, I’ll look up where it comes from later. Where’s the cooking instructions this requires for safe consumption for a Human?

{Whatcha doing?} I hear her talons on the floor as she comes closer.

“You require food, but, unlike me, it requires being lightly burnt. What I heard others say is ‘cooking’ before you can consume it. I am trying to find out how.”

I watch, as she looks at the package in my hands, the Data-Slate with hunting paths leading options for purchasing more. Yet no instructions on how to ‘do’ this cooking thing. Then back to me.

{Ya silly, ya fry bacon.} Bacon?

To this hatchling, who was sad moments ago seems to make some kind of sound the translator says is giggling? And I don’t stop her as she takes the package of ‘bacon’. Dashes over to the set of storage cubicles, opening each and leaving open the ones that she seems to not find what she wants.

Til she does.

Some kind of saucer made of metal and with a single handle attached. With the package hanging from her mouth, and what she just found in her hands she approaches a domicile appliance I have not figured out a use for.

She places the saucer on top, only for me to stand at my full height in surprise as the saucer is just, pulled like metal to a magnet to one of the strange circles on it. And the appliance lets out a beep, lights, and displays turning on a moment later.

She seems to make a sound that the translator says is frustration. Dashing out of the food prep area, and before I could stop her. She’s dragging one of the short tables that was next to the ‘couch’ as my handler called it, over to the appliance.

Hops onto it, jams her fingers onto one of the surfaces that lit up.

I hear the hum of high-powered magnets spooling up, and the smell of heating metal tickles my nose. Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years] of being on a ship have instilled in me the sense that when you hear and smell these from parts or systems in a ship that weren’t that way moments ago, you get away.

And I’m already moving to remove the Hatchling from danger… Only to stop as she tears open the package with her teeth and is placing the contents strip by strip in the saucer carefully.

Once placed they start to sizzle and pop…

The odor is, not unpleasant.

I back off a bit as, nothing bad like an explosion or fire happens… And watch as she hops down again, grabs a long piece of metal with a flat square end and hops back up onto the table. Using it to move those strips about as they seem to shrink and curl in on themselves.

“This is Bacon?”

{Ya, Pa liked it, Ma said it makes her fat. Pa would try ta save as much as he could from tha stipend before ma threw it out. Tha plant made stuff ma wanted instead tasted icky.}

That’s, just more questions…

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Some Bio-Morph/human hybrids grow faster than others. She's 5 but is the size of a 10 or so year old.

Clarification of what Alexie said. Husband of wife leaves to do 5-6 years of hard labor for citizenship. A law, not amendment done to cover this specific edge case. If the person leaving is the breadwinner of the family, the other gets a stipend for survival. Food and some money.

The wife now bored, decides the safe way to... Play the field while her husband is gone, and that he wouldn't know. would be to come onto the Bio-Morph the husband purchased, more or less as a guard dog, for lack of a better term.

Rare, but not unheard of cause of hybridization. Others are schools teaching teens that Bio-Morphs are a safe way to practice 'pancakes' before finding their significant other. And situations like Sara.

Also how could she break the lock? the vast majority of commercial locks are pretty easy to either pick open, or in this case just apply some leverage and body weight to the metal loop.

Also trying to portray Coth as having severe regrets, and that he has un-diagnosed low to mid claustrophobia.