#I really like humans are space orcs

[cassandraxiv]

"You're welcoming us with open arms!? After all that we did to our own planet, you'd still welcome us into galactic society!?"

"You were a different people then. Just the fact that you realize this shows how much humanity has matured as a species."

"We nuked ourselves! We irradiated our planet, blotted out the sun and nearly wiped ourselves out!"

"Everyone does. It's a rite of passage..."

[stubz]

Storyteller

"Hello Max, I'm here to surprise Pollix with a early pick up."

"Oh how nice, although I don't know if he'll want to go right now."

"Why not? Is he in the middle of a game?"

"No, its story time."

The tighalax smirks. "You really think he won't want to come because of 'story time'?" he laughs.

"Just look and see." the human smiles.

The teacher leads the giant feline being through the child centre to a corner where a colorful and beautiful plush carpet lays on the floor. Not that you could see it as it was covered by sitting younglings. All entranced by the human standing before them telling them a story rather animatedly and loudly.

"Pollix, lets go." calls Dux, looking at his cub.

Not even a glance.

"Pollix."

An ear twitch but still no look.

"...Pollix!"

The whole class looks including Kim.

"Oh, Pollix, your dad is here."

"Papa, not yet! The story isn't done." whines the cub.

"...you want to finish the story?"

"Pollix wants to finish the story! Jax and Morgana are fighting the monster now!" cries Nova.

"...is it almost over?"

"Oh, um, almost but, Pollix I can tell you the rest tomorrow-"

"My Papa says its okay!" Pollix cries interrupting Kim

"...is it okay if I...?" trails a very embarrassed Kim.

The tighalax nods and actually goes to sit next his cub. The sight making Max snort as the 8 foot tall feline like being towers over the younglings. After he settles in and Pollix snuggles in on his Papa's lap he gives Kim the okay to continue.

"...story teacher!" whines the children, their teacher taking too long for their liking to continue the story.

"Oh...right...okay then." she mutters, face red from nerves and embarrassment. This was the first time a parent saw her tell a story.

"...the monster roared at our heroes, swinging his mighty axe down at them. Flung into the air our hero, Jax, is grabbed by the giant's fist and thrown into the monster's mouth." The cubs gasp as the human acts out the catching their hero. Her voice slowly getting louder again.

"NO!"

"What does Morgana do?!"

"Is he dead?!"

"Morgana, seeing that the villain ate her friend charges at him as soon as she lands. Her sword drawn and ready, her face angry, eyes full of tears, and with a mighty cry leaps at the giant." She begins to act out the story, going back to her story telling enthusiasm.

"The monster in turn swings his axe at her, with her in the air it will definitely hit her. The axe hits Morgana and she falls to the ground badly hurt...but not without killing the beast. At the last moment she gathers all her magic into her sword and throws it at the giant monster, piercing his evil heart!" cries Kim, thrusting her hand out as if she had just thrown the very sword.

"...and then..." whispers Nova.

"The monster fades away, revealing a hurt but alive Jax. Seeing Morgana he drags himself to her and they hug, happy to see each other again. Even if they're both not in one piece. The healers arrive and the two head home where they continue the rest of their adventure together, as they were always meant to be. The end."

The cubs cheer with most asking for another story.

"No, no more stories for today. Let's give Kim a break, okay, she's already told you 4 stories." Max ushers the kids towards the toys.

"That was a very good tale teacher Kim, I never knew Earth had such interesting history."

"Hmm? Oh that wasn't our history."

"A legend or folktale then?"

"No, just a made up story."

"Ah, could you tell me the name of it? I would like to read it to Pollix at home, it sounded very interesting."

"Oh uh, I actually just made it up." the human smiles.

"You made it up!? How long ago? Must have taken you ages." Praised Dux, tail flicking in excitement.

"Actually I just made it up now, I make the story up as I go."

"...you make it up as you go...y'know that offer to quit your job and join my pack still stands right? Our planet and culture greatly value Storytellers such as yourselves, you could even make a great living if you worked for me."

"Thanks but I don't think I could ever do that, I hate public speaking!" grins the human.

"...but you just-"

"Children are the exception."

[marlynnofmany]

Unsettling

(Related side project: Prank War!) (Today we see what the Frillians look like. Among other things. Very exciting!)

~~~

“So,” I said. “This place is not recommended for most civilized species, but they won’t tell you why?”

Captain Sunlight sighed, tapping her portable screen with one scaly finger. “They’re not the ones with that recommendation; that was the rumor from other couriers.”

Zhee put in, “Who have no obvious reason to lie.”

“True,” the captain admitted. “But the group who are subcontracting to us are insisting that it’s safe — they’ve paid for an expensive enough insurance agreement that I believe they’re not lying either.”

“Intentionally,” Zhee said, clicking a pincher arm like he was visualizing something specific.

I asked, “And you’re sure they’re not just hoping for the best because this is a rush order?”

Captain Sunlight glanced over her shoulder toward the hall. No one else was in the cargo bay with us. “I got the impression that they simply didn’t want to do the delivery themselves because the area is cold and the ground is sharp. Strongarms, you know.”

“Ah,” I said, picturing the various tentacular crewmembers on our ship trying to pick their way across a hazardous ground without cutting a tentacle. “It’s a pity they’ve never mastered this technology called ‘shoes.’”

Zhee hissed in scorn. His exoskeleton was thinner on his narrow little bug feet, but he’d been able to maneuver along treacherous ground before. He’d be fine.

Captain Sunlight said, “With the speedcart, you won’t even need to touch the ground except at the dropoff point, but I’d like you in exo suits just in case.” She waved toward the crisp little hovercar that had come with the job. The package on it looked like a bundle of canvas with lots of rope loops sticking out.

Zhee said, “They could have used this themselves and shoved the package over the side. Cowards.”

“They are also very busy,” said Captain Sunlight with infinite patience. “They normally do the delivery with drones, but apparently those got wrecked in a storm.”

“Is that the danger everyone talked about?” I asked.

“No, the storm was elsewhere.”

Zhee regarded the speedcart with his antenna at a disapproving angle. “So the Strongarms are out because of the sharp ground, and the Heatseekers are out because of the cold. Never mind we have exo suits and heat garments. Why aren’t you sending Blip and Blop on this delivery?”

That was a good point; Frillians did wear clothes. Though I’d never seen our two wear anything particularly suited to cold weather.

“I could,” Captain Sunlight said coolly. “Should I?”

Zhee hissed at that, then finally said, “Fine. But if they are wrong about the dangers, I will be extremely cross as well as dead.”

“I will endure your haunting with humility,” said Captain Sunlight, tapping her screen. “Now we should be arriving soon, so you’ll want to get those exo suits on.”

Zhee hissed again in what sounded like the Mesmer equivalent of a whiney teenager, but he clicked off to get his. I couldn’t really blame him for complaining; it always looked annoying to put on.

I got mine as well, and as predicted, I was dressed first. By the time we both sat ready in the speedcart, Captain Sunlight had gotten herself a heat shawl and Kavlae was observing from the cockpit cameras.

“Stay in touch,” the captain said as the ship’s engines whined a touchdown. “Keep us posted at any sign of actual danger.”

“Will do,” I said, tapping my helmet.

The rest of the crew had other things to do elsewhere on the ship, but I saw Paint and Mur watching from the hallway.

“Be careful!” Paint called. She wasn’t wearing a heat shawl, and by the way she was peeking around the doorframe, she probably expected an icy blast from the airlock.

“Try not to die!” Mur agreed cheerfully with a wave of a tentacle.

Zhee scowled with his antennae. “Hauntings for everyone if we do,” he declared.

“You’ll be fine,” said Captain Sunlight. “Just keep your intelligence in your nose. Ready?”

I almost missed my cue, distracted as I was by that particular Heatseeker turn of phrase. I figured it was close to “keep your wits about you.” I activated the speedcart and said I was ready.

(Zhee was grumpy that it wasn’t a model designed for use by pincher arms, but he was ready too.)

The speedcart was just barely small enough to fit into the airlock without catching the door on a fender. The fact that it used the same hovertech to make bumper fields helped. That also made my driving look good, since I didn’t tap anything.

The door behind us shut, the one in front opened, and we scooted down the ramp into a foggy alien landscape that did indeed have spiky plant-things snaking across the ground everywhere. I was grateful for the heat controls built into my exo suit. The air had a distinct chill before the warmth kicked in.

Kavlae asked from the radio, “Good so far?”

I freed a hand to hit the button on my collar and replied. “So far. It’s a little creepy, but no obvious dangers.”

“Eggskin is here to advise, if you need them.”

“Thanks,” I said. I hoped we wouldn’t need any insights from the ship’s medic, but it was nice to have the option. And if there was actually a problem, we’d want them to know as soon as possible.

No real problems yet, though. Just creepiness. The fog closed around us, making visibility garbage, and various distant fauna were moaning and chattering. I focused on the speedcart’s navigation panel, reminding myself that I was an adult and a seasoned professional, not a kid experiencing the great outdoors for the first time.

It really was unsettling, though. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about this place was more eerie than the fog could account for.

Plus I was starting to feel nauseous.

Was that worth mentioning? It was probably worth mentioning. Maybe I just ate something bad earlier. From the canned food that didn’t expire until several planetary years in the future.

“Looks like you’re almost there,” Kavlae said. “Eggskin wants to know if things are okay.”

“Um, maybe?” I said, with a glance at Zhee. I couldn’t read his expression. “I feel a little sick, but it’s faint. Hard to pin down.”

Eggskin’s voice came through the radio. “Make the dropoff quickly, then hurry back.”

“Yup,” I agreed. “That is definitely the plan.” I was starting to sweat, and the exo suit didn’t know what to do about it. The temperature went down a notch.

The navigation panel flashed; we’d arrived. Good thing it knew that, since this spot looked the same as everywhere else. I put us in park. Zhee was already moving to unload the package.

A wave of dread rolled over me, pinning me to my seat. I could tell my breath was coming faster as I searched for danger. Shapes kept appearing at the corners of my vision, vanishing when I looked directly.

I tried to keep my tone light. “Guys, this place might be haunted.”

“How do you mean?” Kavlae demanded.

Before I could answer, Zhee said, “Haunted by a really irritating noise.”

“Noise?” I asked, while Eggskin asked him to describe it.

“You can’t hear that?” Zhee hauled the package to the edge of the speedcart and lowered it over the side. “Low and rumbling, the kind that rattles your core.”

“Infrasound!” Eggskin exclaimed. “Certain frequencies can be unsettling for some species, even dangerous with extended exposure.”

“Oh good,” I said with an unsteady laugh. “So it’s not ghosts that I keep seeing?” They really looked like ghosts. Indistinct gray blobs that wouldn’t stay put.

“When the soundwaves are just right, they can cause resonance!” Eggskin went into a detailed description of how the sound I couldn’t hear was making my eyes vibrate. This sounded fascinating for a medic who was safe back on the ship, not out here feeling irrationally terrified despite their best efforts.

“Got the beacon?” I asked Zhee.

He was still leaning over the edge, with two legs hooked under the seat. “Yes.”

Something clicked, then a sound that I could hear rumbled out like an earthquake. “That’s the beacon??”

Zhee settled back into his seat. “More irritating than the other noise. Drive.”

“Right. Yes.” My hands were only shaking a little. I put us in reverse even though there was nothing to be reversing away from, then turned and sped back toward the ship. Quickly. Not at a breakneck pace, but … quickly.

Zhee made a curious noise. I spared a look to find him staring back at the way we had come, where a shockingly large figure loomed in the mist.

The beacon turned off. Everything was silent to my ears, and slightly less terrifying, but I didn’t slow down.

I told Zhee, “I may have a new ghost story for Blip and Blop. Once upon a time, some couriers made a delivery to somewhere haunted, but that was really just the clients.”

Zhee was still looking behind us. “Or fauna that ate them. Drive faster.”

I clutched the wheel and drove faster.

~~~

Did I mention the Prank War?

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[ruinatlantis]

Honestly, thank god for the tumblr version of humans are weird/space orcs/whatever. I love the stories I read on here about discovery and interaction between different species and how cool space is. Every time I try to go to reddit (into the r/HFY one, which is supposed to be the same thing), all I get usually is stories of human's deadly military in space.

[the-fr0gs-are-g8y]

Imagine:

Two alien handlers trying to calm down their humans except both humans are just really sensitive and hoping their new friend isn't mad mad at them and the Aliens have to figure out how to calm down humans despite having no knowledge of it.

[thenixkat]

Broke: Humans are space orcs

Bespoke: Humans are space raccoons

[Note: If yer reblogging this post b/c you enjoy the shit-tastic white-flavored built-on human exceptionalism trope of 'humans are space orcs' this post is not for you. I am always deriding you people. The 'raccoon' part of my joke is that humans are a rather average and not special at all middle-tier organism with one or two things going for it.]

[fanficsofthevoid]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62252565/chapters/159260353

Sonder Eclipse

Summary:

The shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile, its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

Or:

Grian was never the type to believe in aliens, as far as he was concerned, anything that he couldn't see, touch, taste, or smell toed the line of conspiracy. However, when he is captured and imprisoned on an alien trafficking ship, it gets just a tad harder to keep his unbelief. Faced with a strange new environment, a strange new cellmate, and the threat of a fighting ring hanging over him, Grian devises a plan to escape. If only his cellmate would start cooperating instead of trying and failing to kill him in his sleep.

Chapter 1: Captured

Grian’s consciousness returned in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror reflecting images he couldn’t quite grasp. Cold seeped into his back, making him shiver, and a faint ache pulsed through his head. He reached up, pressing a hand against his forehead.

Or at least.. he would have, if something hadn’t been keeping his hand down.

With an increasing sense of anxiety, Grians eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, all he saw was the blinding white of the ceiling. Then his vision focused.

He was laying on top of a small metal table in an otherwise empty room, the table was cold, and a slight draft brushed through the room, making the hairs on his arms stand up straight.

Grian tried to move, but his body refused to obey. Panic flared as he realized why—his wrists, chest, legs, and neck, were all bound. Grian immediately pulled against the bonds, but they didn't budge. He wasn’t bound with rope or metal; the material felt rubbery and pliable, flexing slightly as he struggled. Worse yet the table he was on was too small for him and it was causing his legs to dangle awkwardly off the end of the table, adding to his discomfort.

Grian tugged harder, his breathing quickening. The restraints stretched under his effort, but before he could pull free, they snapped back, slamming his wrists into the freezing metal. He winced, biting back a yelp of pain.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? He searched his memory, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Everything before waking up was a hazy blur. He knew who he was, he knew where he was from, but how he got here? Nothing. Grian squinted at the lights, racking his brain.

Flashes of light.

Floating, and then an overwhelming sense of wrong.

He remembered now.

He had been walking home, when he had suddenly been blinded by light. Completely unable to move, he had been lifted into the air, and then after that�� nothing.

Grian renewed his struggle against his restraints. He got the distinct impression that whatever reason for him being here, it wasn't benevolent, and he didn't feel like waiting around just to find out.

Grian stretched the bands further, if he could just get it to loosen up he was sure he could get out of these and then he could-

A sound pierced through the silence of the room, breaking Grian out of his thoughts. Faint at first but growing louder. Footsteps. Grian froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Whoever—or whatever—was approaching, he wasn’t ready to face them.

The footsteps stopped just outside the room. A mechanical hiss filled the air as the door slid open. On impulse Grian shut his eyes, forcing his breathing to steady.

Two, no, three pairs of footsteps entered, their movements heavy and deliberate. Grian could hear the shuffle of their feet and the faint rustle of what sounded like fabric—or maybe something harder, like armor. He kept his eyes closed, straining to listen.

A sharp, grating noise split the air, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. It made Grian’s skin crawl, the sound twisting and changing pitch unpredictably. Grian struggled not to move to try and cover his ears from the awful sound. The grating stopped, replaced by a new voice, a low, guttural warble. The sound resonated through the room, deep and primal, like the bellow of an unseen predator. Grian’s heart pounded, his breath catching in his throat, and unbidden, his muscles tensed, and ever so slightly, he flinched.

The voices fell silent.

They’d noticed.

A faint, clicking noise—almost like the chitter of insects—broke the stillness. One of them moved closer. Grian kept his breathing steady, every muscle in his body screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything but lie still.

A short click, nails on chalkboard again, then, in perfect English, “Open your eyes, Deathworlder, we know you’re awake”.

The voice was throaty, like a seasoned smoker who hadn’t drank water in years, and Grian cringed in on himself at the unnatural sound. Whatever that thing was should not be speaking like a human.

There’s no use in hiding now.

Grian wrinkled his nose as he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright lights above him. His vision focused on three figures in front of him; the tallest was only about Grians own height at best, but their unnatural appearances completely killed any amusement he could have felt at their height.

To his right, two figures loomed over him. One close to his height and the other, hunched over and about a foot shorter. His gaze was drawn to the tall one first.

It was an awful sight.

It struck him as a humanoid mix of an anglerfish and a snake. The thing was absolutely covered in greenish black scales that trailed over its back and shoulders, moulding to rippling muscle and a pale white underside. The combination of dark green and just about clear white, gave a feeling of illness to the creature that made Grian lean away.

His gaze trailed up towards its face and made eye contact with two pale bulbous eyes that stared straight at him. They had no pupils and there were no eyelids in sight. Then there was its mouth, thousands of sharp, needle-thin teeth, gleamed under sickly pink gums that sagged off its face.

Grian shuddered, resisting the urge to hide his face from that thing.

A glance at the shorter one told him they must be the same species. It was much the same as the first, but its gums were more grey, and it had strange markings on its face, as if the scales there had decided to lose their color.

Lastly, to his left Grian could vaguely see the top of the head of something else standing near the table he was lying on. It wasn’t tall enough for him to see fully without craning his head, and since Grian’s neck was strapped down, there wasn’t much he could do about that. He could tell though that it was shifting back and forth, turning towards the other two creatures before turning to him again, darting around in indecision.

A voice suddenly broke the silence, and Grian suppressed a flinch.

“Cooperate and we won’t sedate you again”, the shorter Angler-Snake thing said, and it was the same throaty voice from before.

“What—what is this? Where am I? What do you want from me?” Grian said, his mouth full of cotton. Then, with false confidence, “Just try and sedate me, I swear you’ll regret it”.

The other two creatures backed away, obviously alarmed, but the shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile. Its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”.

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

The Angler-Snakes smile abruptly dropped off its face, and it turned to the other creatures with a glare. With a grating noise from the short Angler-Snake that sounded something akin to a command, the tall one pulled out a long black stick from its belt. They then started to untie Grian, twisting the rubber ropes in some complicated pattern until the ropes suddenly snapped back and receded into the table, leaving the table looking as if the ropes had never been there in the first place.

Grian sprung up immediately, lunging for the larger Angler-Snake, but before he could get within two feet of it, it jabbed Grian with the prongs of the black stick and Grian blinked and he was on the floor.

Rivers of pain flowed through him as the stick shocked him repeatedly, it was all he could do not to pass out right then and there. His body convulsed on the floor and he struggled to breath. When it finally ended, Grian lay there, gasping, he stared up at the alien, not processing anything but the way his muscles kept twitching with aftershocks. Finally getting some air, Grian scrambled to sit up. He felt extremely vulnerable, laying on the floor below the Angler-Snakes.

Grian looked up just in time to see the shorter Angler-Snake cuff the taller over the head, grating out some sort of insult as the taller fiddled with something on its stick. Once satisfied, it then returned its stick to pointing straight at Grians head.

“Get up”, the short Angler-Snake ordered, all traces of interest gone, and Grian did, biting back a hiss at the pain of standing up.

The Angler-Snake with the stick prodded Grian with the butt of it, forcing him towards the door.

As Grian stumbled forwards, the door gave another hissing noise, and opened into a dimly lit hallway. To his right the hallway continued to travel off and out of sight, the lights flickering down into darkness. Grian carefully noted the many doors lining the hall. He then turned to his left and almost screamed.

Three more Angler-Snakes were skulking in the hallway, standing so still that he hadn’t even noticed them.

Pale eyes stared at him unblinking, and Grian felt a shiver go down his spine. He gulped and squared his shoulders, trying to hide his fear, and to his shock, the Angler-Snakes took a step back, looking at each other in alarm.

Unfortunately Grians attempt at intimidation was short lived as he was struck from behind, stumbling forward again as the tall Anger-Snake walked through the door behind Grian. It stayed behind Grian like an abnormal shadow, warbling orders to the other guards as they surrounded Grian, each drawing a black stick from their belt and pointing it straight at him.

Grian couldn’t help it. The panic brewing in his chest was too overwhelming. Working on something instinctual, Grian stood as tall as he could, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he let out an almost primal noise, snarling at the tall Angler-Snake behind him. He felt like a cornered animal.

He felt like he was surrounded by predators.

The group of guards stumbled away at the noise, tripping over themselves to get away from Grian, and he couldn’t help but feel a moment of victory. However, he barely had two seconds to feel smug when he was back on the floor.

While he had been distracted, the short Angler-Snake had come up behind him and struck him with the pronged end of the black stick, sending him back into a convulsing heap on the floor. The short Angler-Snake barked orders at the guards, and they flanked him, and blocked off one end of the tunnel, leaving Grian only one way to go.

“We will drag you there if need be. Do not play games with me Deathworlder”. The short Angler-Snake spat the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, disgust heavy in its voice.

Flinching at the sticks pointed at him, Grian stumbled to his feet and began to walk down the hallway. Each hallway looked the same, a long corridor filled with cold, lifeless doors, and the more Grian tried to memorize the pathways, the more he forgot them.

Slowly the doors lining the hallway petered off and were replaced by what must have been celldoors. Heavy, metal doors with a porthole at the top of them. Grian tried to peer into a few of them as they walked past, but they were either empty or too dark to see in.

Until one wasn’t.

Grian paused in his step. Unlike the other doors, this door had bars over the porthole, and the room inside seemed a bit bigger. It was dimmer in this cell, but one light was on, flickering like all the rest of them. Sickly yellow light poured down like a dispirited waterfall, illuminating a figure slumped in the corner. Its eyes were open but glazed over; dead, and its neck was definitely broken, bent to a painful ninety degree angle. Streaks of green were smudged on the floor, presumably the aliens' blood. Grian winced as he traced the blood to the other visible corner of the room. The corner was dark, but Grian could just barely see another figure, huge and hulkling in the shadows, a shudder went down his spine unbidden. The figure began to turn into the light and just as Grian was about to glimpse the things face, he walked out of sight of the window.

What was that?

Everything on this ship was Angler-Snake sized, made for a creature that was six foot at the absolute most, but that thing had to be at least nine feet tall. And why was there a dead body in there? Was the body a cellmate? An unfortunate guard? Food??

Grian didn’t have any longer to contemplate the strange cell as the guards took one more turn and stopped outside a heavily reinforced door. The porthole was obviously multi-layered glass, and locks of all kinds dotted the seam between the door and the wall, huge heavy deadbolts, codes, chains and a large bar across the front of it. Whatever was in there was dangerous.

The tall Anger-Snake stepped forward and began to hurriedly undo the locks, glancing behind himself at Grian every few seconds. It was obvious that the alien wanted to get whatever they were about to do over with as fast as possible, and his urgency only caused Grians own anxiety to rise. His eyes darted to and fro across the guards and back to the door that possibly contained the horrors of the universe. Assuming whatever was in there was violent enough, it may cause a ruckus once the guards disturbed it, and that. That had to be Grians chance to get away from the guards.

Grians eyes locked onto a smaller Angler-Snake near the side of the circle of guards. That one was the weak link surely. With the others momentarily distracted, he was fairly certain he could bowl over this small one, and take off down the hall.

He had it all planned, now he just needed the assumed monster to do its part.

Grian glanced back at the door and saw that the tall Angler-Snake was on the last lock now, it was heaving the bar off the door, the other Angler-Snakes were crowding in, here was his chance. The door swung open and Grian braced himself to be assaulted by the sight of the most terrifying, dangerous and violent creature he could imagine. And…

And the cell was empty.

“Wha-”, Grian managed to stutter out, before the Angler-Snakes took his momentary surprise to pounce.

Prodding, and gnashing their teeth, they began to herd him towards the door, brandishing their black sticks. Grian stumbled back, they were trying to keep him in there. Immediately a surge of adrenaline hit.

The Angler-Snakes encroached further into his space causing the small Angler-Snake to be near him now. Grian took the opportunity. He darted to his left before jerking back towards the small Angler-Snake, weaving between guards. The small Angler-Snake gave a jab at him but he dodged, grabbing the black stick near the handle, and ripping it out of the creature's grasp. He didn’t bother to flip the stick around as he let the momentum carry the pronged end of the stick straight into an Angler-Snake behind him. Strange gurgling noises came from the Angler-Snake that he had hit and Grian, stupidly, so so stupidly, glanced behind him.

The momentary distraction was all the Angler-Snakes needed.

The shock came suddenly, one, then two, then all of them. Grian couldn’t think as every guard that had escorted him to the cell shocked him repeatedly, there were sounds akin to yelling but Grian couldn’t figure out if it was the Angler-Snakes or his own screams. In between shocks he was hit by the butt of the stick, and Grian could already feel bruises forming. All he could do was curl into himself and cover his head.

Between flashes of consciousness, Grian felt slimy hands on him, as well as the butts of sticks pushing and shoving him, until finally, it all stopped. He heard the sound of metal meeting metal as the cell door closed, sealing Grian into the cell and sealing his fate.

_______________________________________

A lot of things sucked about being in a cell.

Besides the very obvious fact that he was imprisoned against his will. A fact that he was trying very hard not to think about. The heavily reinforced walls kept almost all sound outside of his cell from reaching him. Or at least he thought it did, he’s not sure if there even had been a sound outside since the Angler-Snakes left him here. Grian curled closer towards his knees. If he weren’t so scared right now he’d be talking to himself. Something to fill the silence. Something to help him feel like he’s less alone.

He shifted onto his side. He was lying on a too small cot that had been shoved to the corner of the room. It was cold, and seemed to suck the warmth out of him like metal. But at least it was softer than the floor. Everything hurt to move, and no matter how he positioned himself, something was poking into one of his many, very fresh bruises.

After the Angler-Snakes had left and Grian had stopped drifting in and out of consciousness, he had dragged himself over to the door, and with the help of the ledge of the porthole, he had pulled himself up and into the light. Ignoring the rush to his head, he slowly looked down at the rest of his body. His arms were polka dotted with bruises, all the splotchy square of the end of the guard's sticks, and there were sluggishly bleeding cuts all along his ribs from where the sticks had hit especially hard and broken skin.

Grian winced as he glanced at his arms again and quickly looked away. If he didn’t take care of those they were going to get infected, but it wasn't like he had antibiotic cream and bandages, and he was pretty sure he was more likely to be beaten again than given supplies if he complained to the guards that passed by every few hours.

That’s another thing about being in a cell. Perception of time? Gone. For all he knew, it could have been only a few hours, or it could have been half a day. Nothing about the lighting changed, and so far nothing about the guards had either. What he should do is start counting. See how long it was between guard shifts, but with every breath he took, his chest expanded and aggravated the cuts on his ribs, and he immediately lost count.

Hours past, or maybe just minutes, he couldn’t really tell. Nothing broke the sterile monotony of his cage, and he found himself becoming more and more unaware of his surroundings.

He remained like that, until he heard a commotion outside his door, breaking him out of his stupor.

For a moment he was so overjoyed at hearing noise again that he didn't even process that the sound was outside his door. But once he did he scooted as far back into the corner as he could, all muscles tensed and ready.

The door was flung open, and the room was suddenly flooded with light. Grian blinked at the doorway. Two silhouettes blocked the light, one obviously the hulking figure of an Angler-Snake, the other smaller and unidentifiable. Without any fanfare, the small one was flung into his cell, along with one word from the Angler-Snake;

“Dinner”.

The door shut, and Grian was once again plunged into semi-darkness.

[theology101]

A Simple Financial Decision HFY - 1/3

Aboard the Command Ship Mother of Invention

>>> FTL JUMP SUCCESS

>>> BEGINNING SYSTEM SURVEY

>>> ERROR; INTERFERENCE

>>> ANALYZING INTERFERENCE

>>> CHEMICAL AND FISSION EMISSIONS DETECTED

>>> ERROR. PARAMETER ‘uninhabited’ NOT MET

Junior Commander Wa’l Hildnid was not having a good first night on duty. Despite serving on the bridge crew several times, tonight - or what passed for it in the carefully controlled light system meant to match their circadian rhythm - was the first night that Hildnid had command of the bridge. Which of course meant that the first (and hopefully only) unexpected problem came up on his shift. Although perhaps the Celestials were playing a joke on him - after all, the fierce and ruthless Foreman Wa’l Sonogth in charge of this operation, was his uncle. 

After a firm rapt on the door and announcing his presence, the door was opened from the other side. Already - or perhaps still - awake, he was hunched over with one of his three eye stalks on a different display. “Report,” he said simply.

“Capt-“ He cringed, reminding himself he was no longer in the Navy, “Master Foreman, - one of our long range probes has encountered an error.”

The question hung for a moment - Sonogth turned one eye towards his nephew. “And?” he asked dryly.

“Oh! Apologies uncl- sir. The system-“

“Which system, Junior Captain?” Foreman Sonogth interrupted, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and foremen’s pin. “Our charter is to strip mine any system within a hundred square parsec region. So far, we have sent out four hundred drones and most have already reached their secondary target.”

“Of course, sir, sorry sir.” 

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again - which system?”

Grimacing at failing to answer with his apology, Hildnid was pleased the correct screen was ready. “The star has been codenamed as ZN0-52081, sir, and the error was unexpected life form contact.” Songoth’s eyestalk returned to its central monitor at that.

“Two ice giants and gas giants, an asteroid belt, a habitable planet, and a deathworld, on top of a few dozen barren moons…” his uncle thought aloud, his voice sonorous as he dropped into a contemplative tone. “Too remote for pirates, too much work for colonizers, and not near anyone who could’ve taken it…” 

The eyestalk came back up. “Were the life signature Bioforms?”

“No, no sir.” He knew that one, at the very least. There were several ways to tell if one of the Old One’s children was lurking, and none had been present. “What little evidence we have at the moment suggests the usage of traditional, albeit old, spacecraft. No psionic resonance or evidence of interstellar gas manipulation.”

The eyestalk bobbed a nod. “Good, at least we won’t need to deal with any damned Citay.” Wa’l Sonogth sighed, leaning back in his chair and finally turning all three of his eyes to his nephew. “They’re either smugglers or political dissidents illegally occupying our territory. If it’s smugglers, we can pay them off and give them one of our empty systems, if they’re rebellious colonists…”

Wa’l Hildnid swallowed so hard that it seemed to travel through his neck and into his shoulders and chest. 

At that, his uncle laughed. “Don’t get squeamish on me, boy! Your mother told me about what a brave military man you are, don’t tell me you never killed before?” The black of his sclera seemed to grow even darker, “if it’s easier on your soul, I’ll make it an order. It’s a simple financial decision.” 

“Yes, Master Foreman.”

“Good. Send the probe to its next target, and…” The left eye moved back towards its screen, “order ED-3 to move in. Clan Gis also were a gang of firebreathers…”

“If that will be all, sir?”

“That will be all”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

Captain Ghis Halnfur was looking forward to an extremely profitable day. 

In charge of “ED-3” - Excavation and Demolitions Team 3 - and the seven ships that made up that command. Two of them were traditional deep space mining ships, barely a hundred meters long, three more were of the wide bowed transport ships that would carry full loads for processing, two hundred and twenty meters long and capable of safely transporting its precious cargo without additional protection. And of course, his flagship, half again the size of the transports and the most heavily armed, was to act as the command and operations hub for the mining operation, as well as transporting any workers or engineers to ground-based projects - in this case, a legion of Galfrei-class combat units and a platoon of enhanced mining equipment retrofitted into combat-ready suits. And of course, the final ship, and Halnfur’s personal addition to ED-3 - the screening ship.

Taken from his days in the Navy, the idea of point defense protection against fightercrafts and gunships would also work when it came to asteroid mining. Halnfur himself captained the first one deployed, and saw to his immense delight that it could cut through those asteroid fields like air… it simply made it harder to collect them afterward - so instead his poor Lii’lya had been reduced to operations like this, where collateral damage was expected. 

Blinking out the white that always came from leaving faster than light, he kept his eyes on the stellar horizon while his communications officer began a survey. “Near distance, clear. Middle distance, clear. Far distance… occupied.”

“Occupied?” Ghis Halnfur’s second in command, Ak’no Jel, asked as he moved to take a better look at the display.

“Yes ma’am,” comms responded. “By… a battle, it looks like,” she paused, another bright flash of light from the viewport, this time significantly smaller and at range. “Yes, it’s a battle, ma’am. The fission signature we just picked up was equivalent to one of our class-4 explosives.”

“Who’s fighting?” Halnfur felt obligated to ask, if no one else would.

“It’s hard to tell from this range, sir, but I’m seeing two distinct ship design styles, maybe three.”

“Are you ready to go in, Captain?” Jel asked, back behind his command chair.

He surveyed the scene for a moment longer, tapping his chin dramatically. “Yes… I believe we shall. Navigations, plot me a skip-jump, pull back a hundred fifty kilometers from the plotted edge of the battle. I want them to know we’re there, but don’t fire yet.” He’d never believed Sonogth’s predictions - and he knew who was behind this whole damn thing - the Citayans. If he could get proof, solid evidentiary proof, that they had not only moved into the Celestia Republica Castelleum, and that they fired first, it would be the airtight justification they needed to finally wipe the Citayans off the galactic map, then their unevolved Citay vermin, and then all the other Bioforms. At least the Citayans didn’t use bloody animals for space-craft.

The flash was proportionally weaker this time - but the battle was not what he expected.

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

Aleksandrya Sokolov-Meyer of the United Nations of Terra and Venus Navy, and captain of the Zeus-class Antioch, was having a terrible day. “Status!” she barked, leaning over the massive command table and wincing at each new red mark on her ships. And they weren’t even supposed to be her ships! “I need those torpedo tubes unjammed!” she yelled to no one in particular.

“Torpedos still down, ma’am, repairs underway!”

“Rio’s Pride is requesting additional firing support!”

“Acknowledged, patch me over to the captain.” It wasn’t looking good for Rio’s Pride. The only destroyer she still had on her left flank, Rio was built for capital ship combat, and the swarm of Jovian Stinger and Biter drones that had just polished off her support ship. “Captain Holt,” Meyer said when she saw a flicker in her periphery. 

“Damn, Meyer, its a bloody mess that Gilly left us, isn’t it?” Despite herself, she let out a low chuckle, glancing up through the loose strands of red hair to look at her friend’s face on the screen. He wasn’t looking good, behind him the devastation of his ship was obvious, lights flickering and a disturbingly loud shudder. She was tempted to pretend that this was a simulation again, that this wasn’t real and she had enough time for a clever comeback.

But it was real this time. And with the death of Commodore Gilroy Faux and High Captain Tsoss, Aleksandrya was in command.

And she was about to kill a friend.

“Holt, we can’t send anyone to rescue you,” she said solemnly, turning back to her display and drawing her intentions. “If you yaw fifty degrees starboard and a few clicks further out-“

“I can hit the damn nest.”

“We’ll cover you for as long as we can.”

“Yes ma’am, over and out.” And just like that, exposing itself to more fire and making the battered destroyer even more of a target, Rio’s Pride followed orders. The swarm of drones saw that and gave chase, their hive programming convincing their fellows of better prey than the main battle group. No doubt some kid would notice and correct the mistake eventually, but it wouldn’t be immediate and every second counted.

“Comms Officer Henri, order picket group one to chase those fuckers, then patch me into the rest of the fleet.” The situation had already changed radically from the last time she checked - the enemy formation, surrounding them in a rough U, had begun to collapse inward on the port side as they moved in for the kill, while the automated Jovian ships - primarily their smaller ships though there were two cruisers in there. The Caliphate of Mars was stubbornly holding the rear line as a firing position, uncharacteristically cautious - especially compared to the Jovian Brillenschlangen, of all people - and the ship they were chasing, the only damn reason they were here, the Samel-Class Man of War Big Tex which should’ve been on death’s door, had yet to make an appearance. The only benefit to the situation was that another Jovian carrier had gotten speared through by a CAT-7 coilgun.

Again, the flicker in her periphery, again she began to speak. “Tighten up, those drones are going brainless in a few minutes and I don’t want any of them flying blind in between my ships, you hear? Good - keep your CAT-1s well-oiled, I want you all to coordinate on deflecting incoming projectiles” She glanced up, looking at the faces on her screen. Only thirty-three of the seventy-four ships that came out to Jupiter were still active, and soon it would be thirty-two. “Let’s see Rio be proud one last time and on my mark, I want complete offensive saturation on these targets,” Meyer selected them on her display for them.

Holt’s face popped up, his ship even more damaged with only the emergency lights active and a nasty gash on the side of Holt’s face. Meyer wondered how he got it - she figured that she’d never know. “On your orders, Admiral.”

Despite herself, she smirked. If she could manage to salvage this… but now was not the time to think of her career. Not when she was staring at the one who would give it to her. “Give ‘em hell.” And with a triumphant final firing of its massive primary canon, Rio’s Pride unleashed a two-hundred-ton rod of tungsten-depleted uranium alloy shell at a low, but not insignificant, percentage of the speed of light. The Nest - the hangar and control point for all the drones in the ether - was there one moment. The next, there was a blinding streak of white-yellow fire cutting straight through the thing, and then it began a cascade of errors as things meant to be held securely were suddenly and violently released.

Even knowing it was coming, she braced herself for the violent jerk of the main cannon. “Fire!” a second streak of light emerged, then another and another as dozens of missiles and high-category coil guns were launched at once - not targetting the battleships closest to them, but the undamaged secondary line. Expecting the luxury of a near-endless supply of drones the Jovians had programmed to make suicide rushes to intercept traditional and nuclear ordinance, the Martians were caught off guard by this sudden weakness in their defenses. Already, Aleksandrya could see their CAT-1s and teslogats ready for dealing with this, but not all at once and not nearly fast enough. And every second mattered.

And then, emerging off her starboard side, was a fleet of seven, massive ships. She had a moment of absolute shock and surprise. What? How did they move like that? But that quickly faded when the lead ship, a massive thing as long as her Zeus but much, much larger and heavier, rammed directly into Rio’s Pride.

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

“Blasted!” Captain Ghis Halnfur shouted, standing to his full two-meter height, his eyestalks pulled in tight to the skull. “Jel, I want to know what the hell is going on, Comms, tell the flotilla to open fire.”

“Captain-“ 

“They set a trap for us, Jel. I don’t know how, but they knew we were there...”

“Captain…”

“A damn trap, and Sonogth sent us-“

“Captain!” Jel said it forcefully enough that others stared - only for a moment before they risked one of her eyestalks finding them. “None of those ships exist in our records.”

“What?”

“They’re unknown configuration,” Jel repeated.

“I know what unknown configuration means, commander, what I meant was-“ One of the five ships closest, and turned directly to face Halnfur’s force, exploded as a few shots lanced from one of his transports. And at that, he grinned. “Ah, nevermind. We seem more familiar with their configuration now. No shields? How did they even make it through FTL?”

The Captain and Commander watched the battle for a moment, before Halnfur finally sat down in his chair, watching as the ships - and there were indeed three distinct designs, began to create a new line of battle. Clearly, whatever battle they had been fighting seemed to be forgotten against a superior enemy. A feral smile colored his face before Jel said something that made his heart stop.

“What if this is their home system and we made first contact?”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

“I don’t care what you say, but that arschloch on this line, now!” Aleksandrya looked up just in time to see another CAT-9 shot get mostly disintegrated before whatever melted slag could be reformed in the coldness of space. “Come on you martian bastard, come on…”

“I assure you, ma’am, that Jamil MacCready is not here!” High General Sakira Morrison of the Jovian Coalition said. At least the fotze had picked up, which was more than could be said for that Martian Coward. “But the Martian troops have been placed under my temporary command while they recieve humanitarian repairs, as-"

“Humanitarian? He’s a murderer!”

“As we were given the right to by treaty. It was your forces under Commodore Faux that an illegal-“

“Halst den Mund! - Euphrates, Flaming Sword,” the two captains flickered on screen and this time, she did look at them. One clearly favored more of the Arab side of the “TexArab” people of Mars, while the other was more ambiguous - both were men, and oh what she wouldn’t give to hear them complain about being subordinate to two women. “One of those energy balls is coming at you both, nadir-starboard. I want to see how big of a coil shot it takes to defuse. General Morrison, are your crews in formation ready for a massed volley?”

“The battleships, yes, but it’ll take the drones-“

“Comms, patch me into all ships,” Aleksandrya said with certainty she didn’t have. Removing her officer’s cap to fix her hair, she instead tossed the damn thing away, pulled out her pins, and shook out her hair. If she was gonna die fighting an unknown evil from beyond God knows what, she wasn’t going to do it by regulation. “This is acting Admiral Aleksandrya Solokov-Meyer of the Antioch - on my first mark, coordinate Coil fire onto this target,” she tapped it on her display, “Upon my second mark, fire traditional ordinance - third fire nuclear. Ready… mark.”

There was the familiar lunge backward as the gun fired, joined in a loose arrowhead formation with the broken hulk of the Nest acting as their anchoring point. While not all ships could fire given the angle, the effect was all that she could’ve hoped for. As the first rounds made contact, they began to superheat, melt, and vaporize as before… but then the second, third, and fourth were all landing in the same spot too. And then, that etheric blue bubble that surrounded those ships began to bend inwards with a burning red fury… until it couldn’t bend anymore. The rounds hadn’t even all made their target before she called “Mark!” 

This motion was more subdued, as the still working torpedo bays launched too - straight into the hole they had just created in the shield, and not just the shield - somehow in that stream of light, they’d cracked the hull. Meyer imagined that the follow up missiles didn’t do much for the ship’s internals either, and this wouldn’t be much better. “Mark!” The barrier was already starting to close up, the cruiser was still opening fire… and then the nuclear missiles got inside the ship. Several dozen missiles exploded on the exterior of the shield in massive shows of light, but the dozen or two that made it underneath the shields before detonating?

For a brief moment, Jupiter had its own sun. And then the shield burst like an overfilled balloon.

“I want confirmation the second your guns are ready for another volley, we’re hitting him next.” She looked back at her display of Captains… having more faces with proportionally even more empty spots didn’t thrill her, but she knew the bastards could die. And that was good enough. “High General, I want an update on those drones, and for the love of God, someone get Jamil MacCready - or at least his ship!”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

His flotilla was sent to pacify the whole system, Ghis Halfnur thought ruefully as he watched his last transport ship get destroyed. It was just him and the Screener left. “Jel?”

The woman had been trying to help coordinate fire with the weapon’s commander but came at his command. “Captain?”

“We never managed to do our full recon,” he said moreosely. It was his own fault, his own overconfidence. Removing his captain’s lapel from his uniform, he handed it to Jel. “Take one of our shuttles, take as much non essential personnel as possible, and then complete a survey of this system before reporting to your commanding officer.”

“Sir- that’s-“

“Foreman Wa’l Sonogth will want to know about this. And if you’re right about this being their native system…” Halfnur shook his head. They were doomed. No way about it now. Even if he could still win this fight - and given the numbers against him, he didn’t like those odds - as the commander on the scene who had belligerently initiated contact with a pre-uplift species, his life was forfeit. The Celestial Tribunal would ring him dry, probably most of his crew and commanding officer. “In your logs, write how you argued against my course of action, and wanted to file a report to the Castelleum and I countermanded you. Now go!”

Always a good sailor, Ak’no Jel did as she was told. He had confirmation that she and the evacuees made it on the ship, and waited another five minutes to make sure they were gone before he gave what would be his last, most bitter order. “We’re going in.”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

The battlecruiser and spindly ships were the only two left - and for a moment, Aleksandrya had thought she had won. Or at the very least, was winning. For that act of pride, God decided that the placid, so far only supporting ships with its long-range fire. That seemed to be over now, now it was going to be a broadside. 

“Admira Meyer, the drones are online,” a both familiar and unfamiliar voice said over comms, the signal shakey and broken. 

“I want them running picket, sofort! If any fucking plasma gets through, it’s your ass!” Meyer was already turning to the weapons board, seeing that it was only at 90% charge… and the battlecruiser was getting closer with only missiles harmlessly bouncing off to show for it. But her secondary weapons… “Lower caliber until your main gun is fully charged, he’s not getting an inch without steel,” she ended that call, already having Comms initiating her second, “Admiral Meyer, do you read me Virgo I?”

“Loud and clear ma’am,” the voice sounded winded on the other side, the tight confines of a cockpit not allowing a view. “What can me and my jockeys do for you today?”

“That smaller ship, I want you to poke at it. Bring two squadrons with you…” she paused, thinking. With only teslogats and missiles, the hundreds of fighters wouldn’t do anything to the big ship. Short of just ramming it, she couldn’t see what the rest of the fighters would be doing. “Take as many as want to come.”

“Yes ma’am - think your Comms get can get me over to their jockeys?”

“She’s already on it - Henriette is very skilled.”

“Why thank you, Commander Henriette, over and out!” 

Meyer looked back at the display of the field - already she was down two of her bigger ships (a part of her wanted to add ‘thankfully, Martians’ but she restrained herself) and a dozen smaller ones. And her firing predictions still had it a click out from its maximum range. If those drones didn’t show up -

“Fighters pull back! Repeat, pull back!” It was a laser show over there. While having never taken a shot at any other vessels so far, it became abundantly clear why - it didn't have the range. The powerful plasma jets burned through any fighter unfortunate enough to get too close. “General, where are my drones? Fuck it, drones, this is your new primary target. Are all cannons ready? Good, on my mark - mark!”

Only this time, this time the brilliant display of light didn’t end with a hole. When the light cleared, it was the imposing blue of the shield bursting out through the debris cloud with only a few minor red spots, its impish friend chasing after her fighters untouched. “Prepare a second volley! Reroute power, shut down gravity for all I care, just get those damn guns ready or we’re all dead!”

“Don’t be so certain of it, Admiral,” the same voice from before, only far, far clearer now. And without the static and fuzz… she knew that voice. Thousands of drone ships came rushing by the viewport, creating a cloud of grey and blinking lights that covered the horizon before passing. “I apologize for arriving late but, my father always did teach me ladies first.”

“MacCready,” she snarled under her breath.

“Ah, so you remember me? As you can tell, my ship doesn’t remember either of ours from our most recent or first dance.” 

“Ma’am, a new signature just appeared as… leaving Jupiter’s upper atmosphere,” Henriette said hesitantly. “Samael-Class, and moving quickly. Designation-“

“Big Tex.”

“If you hadn’t done such a wonderful job damaging her, I might’ve been able to help from the beginning,” the man’s cocky voice echoed in the bridge speakers, Meyer’s face turning as red as her hair as his ship quickly advanced towards the enemy. She was going to kill that man. For his crimes, for the Moscow and her old crew, and for stealing her fucking victory! Already, she was watching as the drones broke against the enemy ship like the sea, dozens dying but always being just a few too many to get them all. And the shield was turning red. “Ganymede Spaceworks also added something new, I was hoping to surprise you at our next dance but… well, a Prince must make sacrifices for the good of the people, even if it scorns his lady love.”

All it took was a glance, and Henriette had cut off his comm. “Fucking prick,” she added for good measure.

Drifting into formation above the battered and broken Hive was a Samael-Class Man Of War. Over a kilometer long and with more than enough firepower to match three Zeus classes, the massive primary gun was its primary characteristic… only now it was even more massive, with two isosceles triangles coming from what should’ve been the barrel. And then, in a single shot, a massive round moved in an instant - she barely had time to see it before it had punched straight through the shield, the ship, and then out the other side of the shield. 

Not wanting him to get the last laugh, “Main gun on the spindly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A rod of Tungsten later and Aleksandrya was mollified enough to call her query. The man she and all of Task Force Chancellor had been sent to capture in the first fucking place. “Jamil MacCready.”

“It’s customary to use my title when greeting me.”

“What was that?”

“Ah, you like my new tachyon-enhanced coilgun? It’s brand new! Honestly worked better then I could’ve-“ Aleksandrya ended the call herself. 

“Helm, take us to Venus Blue Dock. We’re going home.” To fix my ship, reconstitute my numbers, and figure out what the hell we’re going to do next. 

[jestiamy]

I like mentally equating haircutting in humans are space orcs aus to those hoof maintenance/horn trimming videos that get like. at least ten comments each time going "???? so are we going to ignore the literal animal torture happening here??"

[faytelumos]

Into the Black With a Matchstick, pt2

@those-damn-snippets @thepotatoofnopes @robin-parravel @invader-mint-tea

cw: drug use (barely described)

previous

---

It wasn't waking up from cryo that had Doctor Adina Ramirez clutching a sick bag for dear life. The massive headache that came from being a freeze-dried raisin person and the feverish, wholistic hunger were nausea-inducing, of course, but her stomach was stronger than that. It wasn't even the ship's interface blandly informing her that there was an intelligent, non-human body attempting to establish a communications line. Even walking up to the console and seeing that the four biologists (including both astrobiologists) who had failed to wake up before her hadn't quite been enough to bring her to her knees with a sudden cold-sweat.

It was the mission clock.

26,008,372 years, 217 days, 8 hours, 36 minutes

She had checked four times to make sure that was million, and not thousand. Maybe if it was thousand, she wouldn't have needed the bag.

Doctor Johnathan Harrison sat at the table with his hands buried in his hair, leaning forward on his elbows, the rehydration pouch sitting in front of him. He hadn't punctured it yet. Adina had unfortunately almost finished hers.

The agreement had been that if and when space travel technology advanced, a crew would catch up to The Solstice and update everything. Maybe even wake the crew and check up on everyone. But almost fifty times the length of recorded human history had passed between the launch and this wake-up call.

Humanity was dead. Even if the sun was still alive (she thought it should be), there was simply no way that humans still existed on that planet. Just as terrifying, perhaps humanity had completely collapsed back to the stone age and rebuilt from scratch, hitting a second space age and setting off into the sky without any kind of record of The Solstice to recover.

She wretched again.

"You're gonna make me sick," John whispered shakily.

Adina coughed and spat, then wiped her face and pulled the bag away with trembling hands. She closed it off and carefully placed it in the receptacle.

"Okay," Adina breathed, though her voice was scratchy and uneven. "Aliens. We have to talk to the aliens." John laughed, suddenly and unsteadily.

"Welcome back to the land of the living!" he joked, "Your entire planet is probably dead and there's a real alien ship knocking on the door — have a Slurpee!" Adina laughed, too, even though it made her head scream and her guts ache harder than ever.

John got to work setting up the channel. The frequency the aliens were using was unorthodox, but easy to replicate. But Adina felt like the entire ship was spinning like a top, her badly dehydrated and starving body wobbling all around her. God knew how much more time the aliens were going to give them to talk — for all she knew, the initial message was, "You're trespassing, respond immediately or we'll turn you into space dust."

And then the computer had asked for a confirmation, then proceeded to wake up five pods in careful succession, then handed out a lunch pack, and then finally informed Adina that there had been a message.

"I can't do this, I'm gonna pass out," Adina breathed. Holy shit, she felt like human garbage. The word "dizzy" came nowhere near this sensation. John watched Adina with bloodshot eyes and shaking fingers.

"I, I know of something that'll help."

It took ages, but they finally ended up in the medbay, and John pulled a small bottle out of a hiding spot so out-of-the-way there was no way in hell he hadn't been the one to stash it there.

"Doctor Harrison?" Adina said cautiously as John found a syringe. "Did you smuggle drugs onto an international, interstellar spaceship?" John looked at her like he was confused, eyes wide and lips parted as he held his items. He blinked once, and for a moment he looked every bit like a kid caught breaking the rules red-handed.

"It's a performance enhancer."

---

The aliens looked like exactly what would happen if a lion and a hyena had a baby and it came out a dinosaur.

There was no sense of size with the video feed, but she could tell by their eyes that they were huge. Her guess was a meter and a half at the head, which was well bigger than both Earthly carnivores. The scales on their bodies were thick and healthy, with Paxie's being a glimmering maroon and the other's some kind of iridescent purple-green. Both monsters had jaws that were definitely designed to crush sturdy bones, but Paxie was bigger and had longer teeth. The other one's shoulder spikes were thicker, and its head was more aerodynamic.

These drugs were something else. Adina almost couldn't feel her body right now, which was exactly what she needed. Her brain was running on overdrive and she could feel it, but she was keeping pace like a thoroughbred. These aliens were large carnivores with adaptations for high levels of sunlight, dry air, blunt force trauma, fast-moving targets, and strong prey. Something like this and smart enough to have an instant universal translator could do whatever the hell it wanted with The Solstice and still have time for lunch afterwards.

God, Adina was starving.

"Captain Ramirez, Lieutenant Harrison, please excuse us," Paxie choked before turning off the translator. The other one said something in their unfiltered language.

"What do we do?" John whispered.

"They're trying to be friendly," Adina uttered. "Hopefully they mean it."

"Are we betting the last members of humanity on that thing's friendliness?" John said.

Adina watched Paxie. Their appearance set off alarm bells all across Adina's brain. But she couldn't tell how much was basic instinct and how much was logical caution. And if she was being honest with herself, she'd probably never in her life been this mentally compromised. High on some weird stimulant and staring an honest-to-God intelligent alien in the face while the death of her entire species was pounding on the walls, she knew if there was another choice in leadership, she'd have to tap out immediately.

But she was the first biologist lucky enough to wake up, and she'd finished her thesis a year before John.

"We don't have a choice," she breathed shakily, trying to school her expression. She was the leader of the human species right now.

She was not ready for this.

"No matter what happens, we're at these people's mercy," she whispered. "The best we can do is appease them until we get our bearings." John sighed raggedly, and Adina could see from the corner of her eye that his hands were shaking badly again. Hers probably were, too. She couldn't look at them. She just kept watching Paxie, because she was in charge now, and everything she had ever known depended on her getting everyone through this alive.

---

Paxie tried to keep their breathing even as the shuttle hissed and trundled towards the alien ship. Both sides had agreed that there was no need for the ancient ship to adjust its course; the Xoixe vessel could adjust and keep pace with it without any trouble. Paxie thought it a clever enough resolution, since the composition of the ancient ship's fuel was so foreign it wasn't yet clear if anyone could make more.

Paxie wasn't scared. Of course not. These creatures, unnerving as they were, posed no threat. They were small and their machinery, upon closer inspection, was in a bad way. And it was no wonder, with how long they'd been adrift and asleep. But Paxie would be lying outright if they said they weren't intimidated by the task of assimilating these things. Of course it would turn out that when they finally got a chance to make first contact, they got the most unusual creatures in the universe. It was just their luck.

The boarding party was comprised of three individuals. Paxie had flexed their authority to afford themself a seat with only a hint of shame. The second person was another Xoixe, Ensign Kime, a xenomedic. The third individual was the most important of the group.

Sergeant Klte was a Qomo, one of the smaller species in the Xoixe's catalog of allies. Given the delicate and relatively defenseless physiology of the new aliens, Paxie had determined that Klte would be the best received as the face of the alliance. Klte, like all of its kind, stood on four thin legs, each ended with three hooked claws. It rose up on an elegant, slim torso, four thin arms with four claws each sprouting from reedy shoulders. Its head was sleek and mostly featureless, its face consisting only of a thin, lipless line for a mouth and a pair of large, black eyes. The pale skin that looked much softer than it felt completed the look of a spindly, almost harmless individual.

Paxie was quite proud of themself. Klte was downright cute, and the aliens would surely warm up to its lanky and pale appearance. Especially since the two species shared compatible atmospheric needs.

The boarding ship rotated slightly and decelerated, then made a low-pitched rattle. The clamps were secured. A moment later, there was a brief, deep hiss, and the airlock doors unlocked and slid open.

Captain Ramirez and Lieutenant Harrison both stood in the hall, and they had to look up to meet Paxie's eyes. Paxie dipped their nose respectfully before speaking, and the translator repeated their words in a small speaker on the outside of their environment suit.

"May we come aboard?"

Ramirez and Harrison looked at Paxie and Kime with wide eyes. But when Harrison noticed Klte, they… flinched.

And then Ramirez gasped quietly.

Paxie glanced back at Klte, concern worrying at their stomach. Perhaps these weren't fear responses. As a prey species, these newcomers could have mannerisms a Xoixe simply didn't understand.

"Please, follow us," Ramirez said, and both of the small creatures turned and walked into the ship. Paxie was going to lead, but the tunnels in this vessel were… tight. Being a carrier, Paxie was about as big as Xoixes got, and they weren't confident in their ability to move around in such a claustrophobic space, especially with their full environment suit on. They turned to Klte.

"Go ahead; I might have trouble."

"Aye, sir," Klte hissed in its rasping voice. It clicked forward, and Paxie also allowed Kime to pass before finally stepping in and bringing up the rear.

Paxie couldn't see well over Kime's shoulders, but they heard the moment when Klte popped the seal on its helmet. Ramirez gasped again, something struck the metal floor, and Kime halted abruptly.

"What happened?" Paxie barked, perking their ears against the inside of the helmet.

"Nothing, we're all fine," Ramirez replied. Kime tried to look backwards, but there was no room in the tight hall. Paxie shifted, trying to get any kind of view, but their helmet just smacked against the cable routing in the top of the hall. They gritted their teeth.

"Admiral," Kime uttered, and she had turned off her translator. Paxie did the same.

"Yes?"

"I don't have a good understanding of their chemical biology yet, but these creatures are exhibiting signs of extreme stress."

Paxie watched Kime's back as they all clamored through the corridors. "You're my eyes, Ensign."

"Their muscles are tense, eye movement is rapid as far as I can tell, hypersensitivity to sound and visual input, and I may be detecting altered blood-flow."

Paxie held back a self-deprecating sigh. They had truly thought Klte's appearance would be soothing, but there must have been something about it that set off the new aliens. Paxie couldn't help but wonder what possible characteristic a Qomo had that was unsettling.

"We'll see if distance with Sergeant Klte will make a difference," Paxie said. "Hopefully our new friends will be comfortable enough joining us to tell us what's happening here."

---

next

[maeamian]

tbqh it's weird as hell to me that there's this given understanding about fictional aliens that they'd be surprised or confused by adaptability, but like, as far as we know and understand that is a fundamental quality of life itself not life on earth. In order to become a spacefaring species any spacefaring alien would've had to survive whatever space threw at them for billions of years as well as whatever their planet in specific threw at them, even the 'good' planet we know about is pretty fucking hostile to life. It's just implausible to me that like, among all the possible sapient species we'd be unique or interesting for the level to which we have the ability to adapt to situations, something that any biological creature of any origin would also need to survive long enough as a species to figure out how space works.

[stubz]

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" whispered the Beerix.

"Your communicator doesn't have service on Earth and my phone is dead. I need to charge it somewhere and this is the closest place that won't ID us." the human looked through the window into the crowded pub searching for an outlet.

"Just...hood up, hat pulled down, and stay close to me." she whispered as they reached the front of line.

"How do you know they won't ID us-?"

"Two people? Alright, come on in!" smiles the doorman.

The human and beerix walk in and are hit with body heat, loud music, dozens of loud voices, and a wave of bodies.

"Told you, now come on, there's an outlet over there."

Pushing and shoving their way through the crow the duo makes it to the back of the pub where a table and some stools are. Quickly the human takes out a charger and plugs in her phone.

"Great, now we just need to wait."

"For how long?"

"At least 10 minutes so we'll make it to the nearest base."

"I hate it here. It's loud and...smelly." wrinkles the beerix's snout.

"I know...here I'll buy you something to eat. Want a drink too?"

"...fine. Just be quick."

"Alright, remember, hoo-"

"Hood up, hat pulled down, yeah yeah I know Kim, you only told me a hundred times tonight."

"...sorry, I'll get you that food and drink!"

He watched as his friend disappeared into the crowd and huddled into chair. Every couple of seconds he checked the phone hoping that'd it'd miraculously be fully charged so they could go.

"Come to Earth they said, it'll be fun they said...why couldn't we just have stayed on the ship and go to the new year's party like usual?"

"Excuse me mate? Can we sit here?" he whipped his head up to see three humans standing before him.

"Uh..."

"It's just that there's no where ta sit and it looks like it's just you and friend so could we?"

"...sure." he forced out knowing it'd draw more attention to say no and that more people would just ask this very same question later.

"Thanks mate! I'm Arty, this is Celia, and this is Sean. What's your name?"

"...Quip."

"I love that name! And your hat! It's so gorgeous, where'd you buy it?"

"Oh my god Celia look at his eyes! They're shiny like...like flashlights."

"Don't mind them, they're a bit drunk right now." Laughed Arty.

"No worries..."

"Real nice hat though, never seen a design like before."

"Thanks...it's foreign."

"From where???" lean in the two Irish.

"Knock it off you two or I'll knock some sense into you."

"I...it's from..."

"Sweden! Hi nice to meet you, I'm Kim. Got you fries and a Guinness." she slides over to her friend.

"Oh lovely choice! They got great Guinness here!"

"I know, got one for myself."

The three Irish began to talk amongst themselves while Quip grabbed the attention of his friend and crewmate.

"We gotta go, now." he hissed.

"We can't until finishing our food and drinks, leaving without doing so would raise suspicion." she whispers back smiling at the three other humans.

"Two of them are drunk and the sober one wouldn't care."

"Maybe or maybe he would since as the only sober one he's on high alert right now. Besides I only have 8%. We need to wait now drink your Guinness and eat your fries."

"...you didn't even get one of those tiny drinks I like."

"Those are shots and this will last longer and tastes better."

"Better..."

[Four Guinness later]

"HE WAS A SKATER BOY SHE SAID SEE YOU LATER BOY, HE WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!

SHE HAD A PRETTY FACE BUT HER HEAD WAS UP IN SPACE, SHE NEEDED TO COME BACK TO EAARRTH!!" screamed Quip, Celia and Sean, the three drunkenly dancing and singing to the song playing in the pub. Somehow Quip's hat ended up on Celia along with his hood on Sean, his pointed ears, snout and grey skin out for everyone to see.

"I can't believe how good your friend's cosplay is."

"I know...he loves Dragon Ball." smiles Kim thankful that Celia thought Quip said he was Beerus instead of Beerix.

"Yeah killer Beerus cosplay, too bad he couldn't get purple paint though."

"MATE HOW DO YOU NOT KNUR DIS ONE?!"

"I KNOW IT NOW!"

"OI SHUDDUP IT'S THE BESHT PART!"

"CAUSE I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY! YEAH I'M JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG BABY! LISTEN TO IRON MAIDEN BABY!!"

Kim laughed as she watched her friend continue to poorly sing to the songs her and most of everyone else here grew up with.

"Quip! Quip! it's time to go!"

"Don't wanna! It's fun here!"

"Quip, Kal and Glip are probably worried about you! My phone is charged up, let's go!"

"Nooo!"

"Aw listen, listen to your friend mate, gotta get home to your family..."

"Yeah, don't wanna worry 'em. My girlfriend would call tha police if I didn't check in with her..."

After some more coaxing from Sean and Celia, Quip finally gave in and followed Kim out of the pub.

A phone call and bus ride later the two were soon reunited with the rest of their crew and soon went back to their ship.

Tomorrow Quip will be banned from drinking for 3 months by his partners and the Captain as he was trending on social media due to Celia and Sean posting the selfies and videos they took with him...which he drunkenly agreed to while his hat and hood were down.

For the rest of the month #IrishBeerus was a popular post.

[bedlamsbard]

starting to think MCU aliens who attack Earth are the equivalent of the guys on that one chart who think they can fight a bear and win

[betterbemeta]

I feel like we get "human raised by <aliens>" or "<alien> raised by humans", and sometimes "a human but like, from the LARP planet or something,"

but we almost never get "human who's just Like That."

I don't mean a quirky awkward turtle it's-an-autistic-person-but-we'll-never-say, I mean like,

everyone assumes they must have been raised by some obscure species, or come from some remote colony with exotic norms, and it just turns out they're weird. that's all.

[ghost-vessel]

So, if it is impossible to spin an object close to and at the speed of light because the power requirement becomes infinite, what will happen if we remove one of the limiting factors? If we put, let's say, a magnet in a perfect vacuum in zero-g, there will be nothing to stop it except walls in the enclosure. It should still move because of its and others' magnetic fields. After all, we already have Electromagnetic Railguns, and that is just "magnets make things go fast." Now, of course, if this does happen, the most likely thing to happen is that it would make a small gravity well, if one at all, and eventually be stopped by other magnetic fields as simply our wires would not be able to handle the number of pulses needed to make it go faster. But what if we make it spin in a circle. It would put less strain on every magnet, and what if we instead made the small object magnetic mettle and put it in the same environment as the last, but this time in a ring. It might just spin fast enough to make a gravity well (most likely crushing everything around it) and break the fabric of reality that would let faster-than-light travel between two points

[boredthoughts]

This is clever, Plus I learned something new today on what 'bear' country is.

(Also that's a lot of tags)

ok i just had a humans-are-space-orcs thought

i grew up in bear country. like, the “you can’t leave food in your car because the bears will break your car and eat it” kind of bear country. so up there people make sure to teach their kids how to avoid getting eaten by bears. and you know the number one thing you do to avoid encountering a bear in the first place?

you make sure it hears you coming

if you’re hiking with a friend, you talk loudly the whole time. if you don’t want to do that, or you’re alone, you wear bells or something else that makes noise. because bears aren’t stupid, they know humans are trouble, and they don’t wanna fuck with you any more than you wanna fuck with them

like. think about that. bears are walking tanks. they can cave in the door to a house or move around a 500 pound dumpster like its nothing. you can shoot a bear with a gun and not do much more than piss it off. a bear could absolutely pick off one lone human on a hike for a free meal. but bears never hunt humans, and they rarely attack humans

like imagine an alien visiting earth and their human friend hands them a bell and says “when we go through here we gotta make sure the local apex predators know exactly where we are at all times”

and they’re like “…oh, yes, of course. the other predators on earth must have learned that they can’t kill a human, and it’s better to avoid a fight if you can”

and the human says “no, if a bear attacked us we’d die”

and they’re like, wait, what?? you want to give our exact location to something that could easily kill us? do you have a death wish??? and their friend is like, no, look, bears don’t fuck with humans if they can help it

not because they can’t, but because they know better