Black Scales and Open Spaces

“Everything here can kill you, but I can do it the most efficiently.”

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The ballroom came to a stereotypical screeching halt as the hard-edged, snarling voice cut through conversation like a knife.

Immediately, five officials converged towards the Thraxxis ambassador and her mate. The tripedal creatures were new to the Alliance after their crushing defeat, and prone to forgetting that they were no longer the most dangerous thing in any given room.

Vree watched the whole thing in mild astonishment. He was only here at the invitation of Human-Amir (who was apparently higher-ranked than he thought) and was doing his best not to offend anyone.

“Shit,” Human-Amir spat. He grabbed a passing official. “Who let the Thraxxis talk to Lord Petros? Tell the Sheikh what happened. Go!”

The official blanched white and took off at a run.

Vree turned alarmed eyes on the rising confrontation. Lord Petros? Human-Amir spoke of him in cautious, respectful tones, but this was the first time Vree actually SAW him.

He was tall for a human, Vree decided warily, but did not look terribly odd otherwise. He had the black hair and brown skin of a desert human, and toxic-green eyes. His garb was appropriate for the fine evening, and he was unornamented, and unarmed.

The humans were talking fast, two attempting to hustle the Thraxxis away, and three more, who seemed to be falling over themselves to apologize.

“What is the problem?” Vree asked Human-Amir quietly. His human friend was decidedly nervous.

“Don’t know, but whatever has Blaec mad enough to threaten is serious business,” Human-Amir muttered. He nudged Vree. “We’re too close, if this gets messy.”

Lord Petros held up a hand and immediately all three attending humans fell silent. The woman on his arm- almost certainly his mate- offered them a smile, but it looked cold, even to Vree.

“If the ambassador from Thraxxis has something to say, he should say it,” his voice snapped like a cut cable, and hissed oddly. “What precisely did you mean by your comment? The one regarding my wife, and your eagerness to study her kind?”

“Oh hell,” Human-Amir went a sickly sort of grey. “They brought Evelene into it. They’re gonna die. And we are WAY too close.”

He pushed at Vree more pointedly, and Vree noticed more humans ushering others out every available door.

Anything that had the humans running was bad business. Humans didn’t run from much, including the things that actively tried to eat them.

Vree went for the door at a quick trot, and resolved to find out more about this Lord Petros, and why the humans were so careful around him.

They were too far to hear more of the encounter, but when Vree looked back over his shoulder, he realized that the officials had abandoned their mission and were pounding for the doors at a run.

The Thraxxis, apparently, had not gotten the message. The ambassador’s spines were raised threateningly, and her mate stood steady just behind her.

Unwise.

With a snarl, Lord Petros changed from a tall human, into a mountain of black scales.

Vree’s legs went to jelly, and he grabbed for the wall, eyes fixed on the spectacle before him.

The ballroom could easily fit a human destroyer within it’s cavernous hall. It was designed as a place to build such ships, before the humans turned into a place for events like this one.

It was barely big enough to accommodate Lord Petros in his true form.

Black wings stayed furled, but they rustled and shifted, and still nearly brushed the ceiling. His tail coiled around the hall and the top lashed furiously.

A thousand meters of dragon had a very particular sound. The bone-click of scales and the furnace-rumble as he took slow, angry breaths.

Fire glowed between the scales of his throat, and flickered behind his teeth.

“Say it again,” the creature- hissed. His voice was like a volcano erupting, and the sharp scent of burning metal filled the hall.

A scrap of white fluttered just between his eyes- Lady Petros, unconcerned by her husband’s transformation and apparently accustomed to this behavior.

Vree stood frozen, unable to move and shivering. His hindbrain screamed for him to run, but his legs refused to do so.

“I always forget how big Blaec is when he’s like this,” Human-Amir whispered. He clutched at Vree’s arm. “It’s been a while since I saw him at full size.”

“Is he going to-“ Vree didn’t know what he was going to say, but he got an answer nonetheless.

The Thraxxis said the wrong thing.

The dragon’s head snapped down like a snake. His jaws came together in whump not unlike a ship crashing into solid rock.

The Thraxxis vanished without so much as a mark on the floor to show what happened to them.

“Well that happened,” Human-Amir said shakily. “I hope Grandfather will talk him down, or the Thraxxis are going to have a bad time.”

“Grandfather?” Vree managed to squeal out the word, his eyes fixed on the dragon. When the humans said how big he was, Vree just assumed they were exaggerating. Humans did that sometimes.

They were not exaggerating.

“Me,” a lone human walked pat Vree, in the tradition dress of their homeworld’s desert. “If you intend to stay, Grandson, do so quietly.”

“Yes Grandfather,” Human-Amir said (surprisingly) obedient. The old human nodded and forged down the stairs, calm and deliberate.

“Grandfather Al-Mudhib is a djinn,” he added in a whisper to Vree. “He’s as old as Blaec- or maybe older- neither of them know which of them is more powerful. If they fought, they might rip a hole in reality.”

Black spots floated across Vree’s sight, and his hearts pounded out of sync. Just the thought of that kind of power-

“Blaec,” the ancient human said, without raising his voice. Vree marveled at his calm, considering what just happened. “I trust the insult to your honor has been satisfied?”

“I am undecided,” the dragon growled, although he seemed to coil in on himself. It took a moment for Vree to realize that he was shrinking rapidly. In a matter of moments, there was a human where once a dragon stood. “The insult is satisfied, and yet the threat to my Treasure remains. How do you suggest I answer it?”

“With fire, as always. How else?”

“And the peace?”

“Leave peace to the humans. You and I are kindled for other things.”

Vree never knew what made him do it, but he stepped forward, despite Human-Amir’s whispered protests.

“Lords,” He croaked, and knelt when they looked at him. Before he dropped his eyes, he got a glimpse of Lady Petros’ smile. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t about to die. “Our alliance is hard-won. I beg you-“

It wasn’t his nature to beg, but these beings were gods compared to him, and there was no shame in groveling to gods.

“Please- let us have the peace we fought for,” he continued, speaking to the floor because it was less likely to eat him. “I am not human, but I know some, and while your people are fierce in war, they love peace- as do we all.”

“That was very eloquent.”

Soft human hands lifted Vree’s chin and he discovered Lady Petros smiling down at him. She was lovely, for a human, and all in white, with black scales decorating her throat and ears.

Her husband’s scales, Vree realized.

“You argue for peace for a people not your own,” she murmured. There was a burr in her voice that Vree recognized from Human-Nerea. Lady Petros must be a mermaid. “More gracefully than those practiced at it, and even though you are afraid.”

“Peace is important,” Vree laid his ears back nervously. He didn’t like having the attention of these great beings on him alone. “Important enough to say something. …please don’t eat me.”

She laughed and turned her eyes on her husband. “My love, I am never from your side. I will pass the word to my nieces, and all will protect them. Let this alliance have its peace.”

Lord Petros wavered, and finally smiled. Vree tried not to breathe. It mit change his mind.

“As you will, beloved,” Lord Petros bowed to her wishes. “I will withhold my fury, for now.”

“Thank you, Lord Petros,” Vree said shakily, and started to breathe again.

He might just survive today after all.

“As you say, Blaec,” Al-Mudhib said agreeably. He folded his hands calmly and Vree dropped his eyes back to the floor. He didn’t know what a djinn was, and he didn’t WANT TO. “Shall I go and reassemble the guests?

“Might as well. And you-“ Lord Petros fixed his gaze on Vree.

Vree resisted the urge to shrivel into the floor.

“Vree, Lord Petros,” Vree said to the stone floor. “From planet Ha’reet, of the Fetar system.”

“My wife is right, Vree of Ha’reet,” Lord Petros said cooly. “You argue eloquently for peace. Join us at our table. I wish to hear your thoughts on other things.”

Vree gripped his own tail and tried not to cut and run.

This was not what he had in mind when he came to this party!

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HGE - Smoke before Fire

The Legend, The Rumor

Deep Water and Scales

Black Scales and Open Spaces

Screams in the Dark

Warning Lights

Into the Wild

HGE - The Others

Through Shattered Glass

Sea and Sky

Fire District

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Support me on Patreon!

The legend, the rumor

“…you want me to what?” Vree asked, tail twitching despite himself.

“We have two humans coming aboard,” Commander Ryyt repeated himself colt. “As our senior xenobiologist, I am putting them in your charge.”

“I specialize in PLANTS,” Vree said helplessly. He had heard the stories about humans just like everyone else, and believed almost none of it. “What am I supposed to do with humans?”

“Learn about their culture,” the commander shrugged. “And their biology. Everything you can. The Pride Council needs to know how much truth there is in the rumors.”

Probably none, Vree thought grimly. Rumors were always exaggerated, usually beyond understanding.

“Why me?” He asked, hoping for a way out of this mess before it got started. “I never deal with sentient creatures. You remember the tak-ra incident, sir.”

“I do,” Ryyt sighed. “But you’re still the tanking xenobiologist on the ship, and your impressive military record suggest that, should any of the stories be true, you will be able to defend yourself.”

Well that was promising. Vree glared, But to no avail. One of Ryyt’s striped ears twitched. He knew Vree too well. He could never resist a mystery, and humans were the biggest mystery there were.

“When do they arrive?”

“In one solar hour, give or take.”

Damn him. No time to prepare or anything.

“Can they do anything useful, or are they soldiers?”

“Human-Nerea is an environmental specialist. Human-Amir is a xenotechnology specialist. They both have some combat training, but they are scientists before soldiers.”

Ryyt handed Vree the file on his desk and sat back as Vree flipped through it quickly. There was more information than he could read before the humans arrived, but he could study it while they settled in.

“I take it you accept?” Ryyt asked when Vree laid his ears back and glared at his commanding officer. “I can find someone else but you’re the best fit.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Vree muttered, and closed his fingers around the file. “I want hazard pay any time I have to go to shore with them, and any time there MIGHT be hostiles in the area. Double if the ship is breached or there may be fighting of any kind.”

“Pessimistic, aren’t you?”

“Only if the stories aren’t true. If they are, you’ll be glad I only asked for this.”

That made Ryyt snarl a laugh and he waved a dismissal. “Fine, Fine. I’ll arrange it. And Vree, I doubt the stories are true.”

“So do I,” Vree shrugged. “But you never know. Where will they be?”

“Dock five. And Vree?”

Vree turned and cocked an ear to show he was listening. Ryyt gave him a fangy grin.

“Yes sir?” Vree said cautiously, sensing the commander’s wicked sense of humor.

“Try not to let them eat you. Dismissed.”

The door closed in his face before Vree could do more than hiss his displeasure.

Try not to get eaten indeed!

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HGE - Smoke before Fire

The Legend, The Rumor

Deep Water and Scales

Black Scales and Open Spaces

Screams in the Dark

Warning Lights

Into the Wild

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Support me on Patreon!

No Moon

In the galaxy, humans are known as the best allies you can have… and the worst enemy you can imagine.

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The Human Galactic Empire has a certain reputation that we tend to forget about.

See, humans are NICE. they’re cheerful, and curious, and mostly people treat them like overeager kittens, sticking noses and paws into whatever catches their interest.

And sure, there’s always those stories that go around. How the ship’s human crawled through ventilation ducts, and everyone thought they would die but it turns out they breathe waste-gasses.

About that one time when a ship crashed with no expected survivors, and when the recovery team got there, the humans were growing crops and splashing in the groundwater.

They survive. Everyone knows that humans are hard to kill on purpose and harder to kill by accident. They can live through things that are the stuff of nightmares, and only come out stronger.

But they’re CUTE. Cuddly and soft skinned with almost no natural weaponry. They’re small- lighter than almost any other race, and deceptively easy to break, even if it probably won’t actually kill them.

So when the Thraxxis invaded and the entire Galactic Alliance ran, because we were outmanned and outgunned, no one thought of the humans.

Unfortunately for them, neither did the Thraxxis.

First the humans fortified. Their own worlds were inhospitable anyway- they simply retreated to the parts where nothing else could live.

Next, they focused all their considerable determination on their allies. One by one, the alliance’s populated worlds became bastions for the humans to fight from.

We watched in disbelief. The only thing to do when the Thraxxis came was to flee. They devoured worlds and their armada was unstoppable.

Unless, apparently, you were human.

The humans took casualties- of course they did. The Thraxxis were four meters tall, had bone spurs and claws, and were feared for their skill in combat. Somehow, that only spurred the humans on. Every massacre turned into a homing-beacon and was quickly- ruthlessly- avenged.

They seriously underestimated both the humans’ terrifying ingenuity, and their startling territorialism. See, the humans are friendly. They are social. They are delighted to make friends with anything that holds still long enough to cuddle on.

They are also merciless, hard to kill, and traveled in packs of the strong, the fast, and the clever.

The invasion stalled. The Thraxxis couldn’t breach any the protected worlds, and yet still more powerful than anything the Alliance could field.

A call went out across the galaxy and farther. We did not understood why the humans would cry for aid so loudly- surely simple communication was enough? What need was there for a scream that reached even distant stars?

When questioned, the Human Commander showed his teeth, and said only, cryptically, “E.T. Phone Home.”

For months, the fight went stagnant. Only small frays and none of them much gain or loss for either side.

That was when something else appeared.

At first, we thought it was more enemies. The newcomers were massive- as big as a moon and filled to bursting with small, aggressive ships that swarmed anything that got near.

“That’s no moon,” The Human Commander told the Alliance, still cryptic, but eyes lit with the sort of smile the humans only made at their most deadly. He refused to explain, but the other humans seemed to understand nonetheless.

The moon-ship drifted into our occupied space, and when it was haled, a human face responded. A human, who wore a formal uniform. Who even the Commander spoke to with deference. His leader, from a galaxy the Alliance never knew the humans ruled.

Empire, we all remembered with sudden fear. The humans called themselves an Empire, and somehow no one ever questioned why.

Four more moon-ships arrived over the course of a week. With them came massive battleships, each capable of holding a world by themselves.

Humans breed fast, and suddenly we had cause to wonder just how many humans there really were, scattered here and there.

Trillions, the humans admitted casually when someone finally worked up the courage to ask. Spread over thousands of worlds and star bases. All emptied to defend the farthest wing of their sprawling empire.

The next battle would be forever remembered. It was the only time all five moon-ships fought together.

The Thraxxis looked at what they faced. At the moon-ships with their hives of fighters. At the warships, each a match for their own. At the worlds they lost, one by one as the humans rose up and tore apart their invaders.

The Thraxxis, wisely, fled with what little remained of their shattered armada.

The Alliance trembled. For so long, we believed that the silly pink monkeys were nothing, simply curious and cheerful.

The humans tried to reassure us. We were independent, they promised. They believed in the Alliance, and in the people, and in peace.

But we never forgot the might of the Human Galactic Empire. Our allies.

For now.

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More Human Galactic Empire stories!

Invasion Denied

Blood Will Tell (What Waits in the Dark)

No Moon

The Legend, The Rumor

Deep Water and Scales

Black Scales and Open Spaces

Screams in the Dark

Warning Lights

Into the Wild

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If you like this and want more, check out my Patreon!

What if humans aren’t weird except for one thing?

What if humans were mediocre in literally every aspect except our music

Like aliens keep going to Earth after we’re integrated into the intergalactic community and the mainstream media is like why? They are so boring. Boring infrastructure. Average schools. The humans themselves just look like a slight variation of any other primate species in the galaxy. They’re intelligent I guess but not that intelligent. Why go there? They don’t even have good drugs. You can’t be going to help them and volunteer. They’re not exceptionally poor or anything.

And then finally somebody on a news show interviews someone visiting earth and is like why go here if it’s so average and the visitor just leans into the mic and says “music” and then dabs. His human friends then pull him away in embarrassment because he just used a hundred year old meme incorrectly. Then a concert starts and the reporter and his cameraperson are so hypnotized by outdoor indie music that they don’t move for an hour.

Earth gets a lot more visitors after that. Music departments get a lot more transfer students from off-planet. Chinese, English, Japanese, French, and other Earth languages are taught at arts schools across the universe. A lot of people hear rap music for the first time in intergalactic history class and students have been known to break down weeping from emotion. Engineers get jobs helping Earth improve their sound recording equipment, including ways to capture outdoor performances better.

Everything from Jpop to Gregorian chanting to Hawaiian guitar captures the galaxy and shakes it to its core. People start assuming that all humans sing and play instruments and are disappointed when they find out that musicians actually aren’t as important to human society as they previously thought. Depression at this realization that most humans really aren’t musicians becomes known as “Earth Tourist Disease” and there are psychology classes on it at universities.

Most sitcoms from not Earth that include a human have them holding a guitar at all times. Humans that get mistaken for other primate species start saying “Woah! Didn’t you notice my guitar?” And then make a rock and roll guitar gesture. This makes pretty much all the humans in the room laugh and nobody else.

One day a human sits on an alien planet, looking at an alien sky. He sits with his friend. She almost looks like a human, but not quite.

“I hate to be that person” she says, “but do you know how to sing?”

“Because I’m human?” He teases

“I’m sorry.” She says.

“No, no.” He says. “I knew you’d ask eventually. Everyone does. Yes, a little. Just a little.”

“Can I hear?” She asks

He knows he’s the first human she’s ever met. He’s the first human most people here have ever met. This place is so much more advanced than earth but it’s not home. He thinks of home. He remembers an old song his great grandmother sang. The one in the only memory he had of her. It’s simple, it’s folksy, it’s a lullaby. He closes his eyes and sings it. His voice breaks two times. He’s embarrassed. He opens his eyes.

“Sorry, I-“ he starts, knowing he’d messed up. But his friend is already crying.

“How do you do that?” She whispers.

The human runs his fingers through his hair, thinks for a moment, and then speaks.

“It’s just how we understand things, I guess. Just our way of being us.”

Humans are space sirens

I found this thing on Facebook… and I fell down the Humans Are Weird hole yet again. 😅 (I first did before I even started my blog - Pinterest is sooo full of these posts! And I keep falling down it from time to time, when I discover something new)

On the months my research team and I were allowed to live on Earth and observe their habitat I noted the following about human young:

- human young will turn anything into a weapon to mock battle their peers, broom sticks, straws, even their food

- when in large groups human young will display games of mock hunts against each other. The two most common being “tag” where one young will try to catch the other young acting as prey, and “mob” where all of the young will try to catch a single young who acts as the prey. This suggests an instinctive ability for both pack and solo hunting

- human young will often hone their stalking and hunting skills by hiding or attempting to sneak up on others and pouncing with loud sounds meant to intimidate and frighten. This is considered amusing for the attacker and victim  

- adult humans will often mock attack their young with their hands or objects to train the young to protect their vital areas and avoid injury. The young find this amusing and will quickly learn to train each other in this manner

- young humans will often attack and attach themselves to an older human’s legs, arms, or back, hanging on despite being dragged or carried while the adult human walks away. Both humans seems to find the experience entertaining 

- young humans are extremely territorial and will attempt to drive off others from food, toys, and areas they have claimed as theirs with physical and verbal attacks. Fortunately, most adult humans actively try to train this behavior out, insisting the young come to an agreement or share resources and territory. 

- young humans constantly search for new territory, dens, and resources. They will climb trees, shelving, anything they can reach. They will climb under and behind things. If there are no suitable hiding areas they will construct them out of blankets and cushions or any other available item. 

- young humans display a strong pack instinct, quickly forming social groups and defending their group against other groups. Often they will split their own group in order to mock battle each other in contests

- HUMAN YOUNG WILL BITE IF DISTRESSED OR ANGRY AND EMIT LOUD NOISES THAT CALL MATURE HUMANS TO AID THEM

- human young will beg for domesticated carnivores as companions, and if gifted with one will pack bond with it to an extreme point.

- human young will carry a toy and try to protect and nurture it as if the toy was their own young

- human young require constant stimulation in the form of games or information. They will constantly question things and can spend extraordinary amounts of time asking “why”, often while poking the subject in question

- human young will try to eat anything at least once. Anything. If it will fit into their mouth they will attempt to eat it. If it will not fit into their mouth they will lick it. 

-human young will voluntarily deprive themselves of oxygen to the point of unconsciousness in an attempt to trigger protective instincts in older humans so they get their way

- human young display great interest in mimicry, often dressing up as different professions, species, and objects. They also display great skill in mimicking the calls and body language of other species.        *Example: one human young had me quite concerned there was another Treawalbil in distress and I searched for quite some time before I discovered that the young was mimicking a Treawalbil distress trill with complete accuracy.       *Second Example: Human young have begun to wear wear “hats” with artificial crests similar to a Treawalbil and some have begun painting colorful patterns to their arms in imitation of our camouflage. 

- human young communicate constantly and spread information quickly not only among their own social group but other social groups as well.     *Example: The human young who mimicked a Treawalbil distress trill taught their social group and soon I was surrounded by human young calling out in distress. This caused the Treawalbil researchers much anxiety so the adult humans suggested teaching the young other calls. The human young learned enough for basic communication at an astonishing rate, but then other social groups we had not taught began using the same calls as well. Even adult humans began using the calls to communicate with us without translators. 

- Young humans will gift beings and creatures they believe to be in their social group with handmade objects, interesting specimens they have collected, or food. Strangely enough, a being does not have to be human in order to belong to a human’s social group. 

@scarvenartist - I feel like you’d get a kick out of this, somehow. ^^

@space-australians

Huhui had been reasonably terrified when they had discovered a human had been assigned to work with them on the financial records. Meeting a human for the first time had been as shocking and intimidating as the stories say. She was almost twice their height and covered in muscle that they knew could crush them with little effort. She looked them directly in the eye and bared her teeth when they met and Huhui flattened their ears and ducked their head in deference. 

She was surprisingly easy to work with, though unsettling. She had the focus and silence of a stalking mieraih once she started working and Huhui had to pause their efforts quite often to check that she was not stalking them instead of account inaccuracies. 

Huhui had been at work for several hours when the human suddenly stood, using her momentum to shove her seat backwards. Huhui scrambled out of their own seat as she stretched to her full height and held her arms out to emphasize her size and… opened her mouth wide and showed all of her teeth. By the gods Huhui was going to die, she was threatening them. 

They keened and flattened their ears and body against the floor, holding out their forward set of arms in the ‘please don’t kill me’ position. Everything was quiet for a long, long moment and Huhui dared to peek up at the human. She was crouched in front of him, her brow furrowed.

“Hey, you alright?” She spoke softly.

“You’re… you’re not angry?” Huhui let an ear flick forwards hopefully.

“Oh shit, I forgot about the yawning thing. I’m sorry man. I wasn’t trying to threaten you, humans yawn and stretch if they stay still too long.” The human held out a hand. “Lemme help you up.”

Huhui let their ears swing forward and put their hand into hers, their fingers tiny against hers. She gently pulled them to their feet and eyed them in a curious manner.

“Hey, sorry if this is rude… but… do you want to ride on my shoulders while I run down the hallway?”

Huhui blinked several times before flicking their whiskers forward in excitement and bouncing on both sets of hind legs. “It would be everything I have ever dreamed of!”

This is the kind of story I need to be made into a series, if I felt I could do it justice I would myself but the little talent I have doesn’t extend to something like this

     Leader Nashini of the Space Freighter Unia was secretly fretting. A human had requested employment on her ship just a pawful of days ago. She had an excellent resume but had displayed a lot of threatening behaviors. Bared teeth and direct eye contact were bad enough but without mobile ears or a tail it was difficult to get an accurate read on the human. But, one didn’t really say no to a human, especially one who was qualified, and Leader Nashini had hired her and put her in accounting with Crew Huhui. 

     Crew Huhui was polite and deferential and most importantly, what the humans referred to as “cute”. Hopefully that was enough to protect them from any violence the human felt. Human’s supposedly pack bonded easily and were as protective of pack adjacent as they were of pack so if she bonded to Crew Huhui the rest of the crew should be safe as well. Or as safe as someone could be around a human.

     Cries of alarm snared Leader Nashini’s attention and she hurried to the doorway of the command center, her whiskers picking up heavy vibrations in the air that were rapidly getting closer. She looked down the corridor and instinctively shrank back.

     The human was running, her heavily muscled legs propelling her precariously balanced body forward at frightening speeds. Her teeth were bared and she was making a loud whooping cry that made Leader Nashini’s ears flatten backwards. She scrambled for balance as her hind legs threatened to give out on her when she saw Crew Huhui who was clinging to the back of the human!

     Crew Huhui had both sets of hind legs wrapped around the human’s broad torso and one set of forearms was wrapped around the human’s neck while the other set was waving wildly. For a brief, terrifying second Leader Nashini thought that Crew Huhui had attacked the human, thus dooming them all to be torn apart with her bare hands, but Crew Huhui had their ears and whiskers forward, their tail lashing behind them in joy. Crew Huhui was feeling joy. While riding on the back of a charging human.

     Was human aggressiveness contagious? Leader Nashini watched the pair charge down the corridor, staring after them for a long minute before moving to her communication console and sending a query to Homeworld.

     Is human aggressiveness contagious?

     Heavy footsteps pounded past the doorway again, this time both Crew Huhui and the human were making the loud whooping noise.

     Additional query: What does “yeehaw” mean?

Part3?

Part 4

Humans are Loyal if Properly Bonded

I was in charge of feeding the prisoners. This had been my task since the Queen had taken me and 2 dozen other Murania as hostages. The others had not survived long, but I adapted. Obeyed.

The Queen had taken a human. A rare being this far into the Deep, but one feared from one end of the galaxy to the other. According to the Encyclopedia of Sentient Beings Capable of Space Travel, humans needed a diet of roughly 2000 calories a sol served in traditional 3 portions a sol. Which meant that I had to approach the human three times a sol. I could not fail my duties.

The first attempt at feeding the large being ended with a tray thrown at my head with enough force that it would have caved my skull if I had not ducked in time. The human was raging, slamming their entire body against the containment bars with enough force to shake the floor and… and roaring. I cleaned the mess of nutrient paste as fast as I could and fled.

But five hours later found me trembling in front of the human’s cage with another tray of nutrient paste. The human had calmed and was glaring at me intently. I knew they did not speak Murania, but still I spoke my native language as I offered the food again. I did not get to speak it often and missed the sound. “Guria?”

The human tilted their head and to my shock, repeated the word, then repeated it again until they mimicked the sound perfectly, even with the slight whistle at the end.

I offered the tray. “Guria.”

They eyed it suspiciously so I tasted it, showing it to be safe. “Guria.”

They held their hand out and I gave them the tray, scuttling to a safe corner before they could attack me with it again.

They tilted their head again and scowled, then spoke in broken Common. “I thank”

I fled, claws scratching against the shiny floor.

Another five hours passed all too soon and I was back at the human’s cage with the final meal of the sol. They were moving slowly around the cage with their ear pressed to the wall, tapping with their knuckles. I watched them for a moment, confused at the erratic behaviour, but only managed a few seconds of observation before their head swiveled directly towards me and they stopped to face me.

I walked closer and offered the tray. “Guria.”

They took it. “How talk thank in you mouth talk?”

“Meesh Meesh.”

They opened their mouth and let out a loud, short bark, a laugh according to the ESBCST. (I studied it dutifully when they were brought aboard.) “Meesh Meesh!” They pointed to themselves. “Michael.”

My wings ruffled, the sound was so similar! I pointed to myself, “Mikel”

The human shook their head and pointed to themselves. “Me Michael.”

I jerked my head in an upward motion called a nod. “Yes, you,’ I pointed to them, “Michael.” I pointed to myself. “I, Mikel.”

They laughed again. “Michael, Mikel. Much same.”

I chittered. “Very similar, yes.”

Their eyes narrowed. “You work here?”

I bobbed sideways, a bit noncommittal, “As I must.”

“Must work?”

I searched for the simplest way to translate what I meant across the language barrier. “No work, in there.” I pointed to their cage. “Work, out here.” I hopped encouragingly. “You work soon, yes?”

The human bared their teeth and snarled. “No work. Fight.”

My wings flattened against my spine and I fled. Humans were so aggressive.

The next sol I completed my first duties and then found myself lingering outside the containment hall. I was apprehensive about what mood I would find the human in this time. I fluffed my wings out to convey confidence and clicked in with the human’s first meal.

“Mikel! Guria?” They were bouncing on the front part of their feet, hopping up and touching the ceiling, then dropping to the floor and pushing themselves up with their arms repeatedly.

“Yes. What are you doing?” I slid the tray to where they could reach and backed to a… well not safe but safer, distance.

“Work body. Stay strong.” They flopped over onto their back and turned their head to look at me. “Meesh Meesh.”

“Zuan.” I bobbed sideways before deciding to ask them the question I had been mulling over. “You’re Nice, mean, nice, mean.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah. Head bad.” They hooked their fingers like claws and shook them around their head. “Scare, tired, Fight.” They gestured to the bars and glared. “Not like.”

I nodded. “I know that feeling.” A chime sounded, signaling the Queen’s approach. I flattened myself to the floor and made way.

The Queen slithered in, her scaled body scraping against the floor with a sound that made my feathers stand up. She reared to her full two meter height and flicked her tongue out to taste the air.

“Human. You are mine now, you will serve the glory of me.”

Michael looked her up and down and whistled lowly then pronounced in exact Common. “Ugly. Mother. Fucker.”

I gaped at them in horror. They dared insult the Queen to her face?

The Queen hissed, but smugly coiled. “You will serve me, human. I know your kind. You are loyal. I feed you, I provide you shelter. I give you safety. You will love me.”

The human backed up, crouching into a fighting stance. “No love, mother fucker.”

The Queen wiggled and slid towards the exit. “You will serve me.” They paused to pat me on the head. “You have duties, tiny one.”

The next several sols passed in the same manner. I did my duties, I fed the human, we exchanged words. At night I tended my secret garden grown in glasses of water and composted nutrient paste from seeds and cuttings I snuck from the Queen’s hoard. The human was learning not only Common but Murania at a breathtaking pace. We could hold whole conversations now and I was no longer… completely apprehensive about approaching their cage. Michael had not acted aggressive towards me at all since the Queen’s visit.

The rare human plant called a “green bean” plant had fruited after several months of care and pollinating with the tip of my own feather. I was ecstatic over the first fruits of my secret labor and I felt that Michael would appreciate my excitement and maybe a taste of his home planet. Humans were said to be incredibly empathetic and sentimental.

That morning I secreted a pair of bean pods in my uniform and headed for Micheal’s cage. They seemed to notice something was different right away, peering at me with concern. “All okay, Mikel?”

I nodded and nervously whispered. “Secret, right?”

They lowered their voice and moved closer to the bars. “Yeah, secret.”

I showed him the beans. “I grew these. It’s the first harvest from the plant! It’s a huge secret, but I wanted you to have them.”

Michael stared at the beans with an expression I didn’t recognize for a long time before whispering, their voice strangely rough. “You get trouble for these?”

I nodded and tried to shove the beans into their hands. “Yes, a lot of trouble. Take them!”

They took them and smiled. “Meesh Meesh, Mikel. This…. This mean lot to me. I can’t say enough. Meesh Meesh.” They bit into one and grinned, crunching happily. “Very good! You do good!”

I chittered and ruffled my wings, pleased with the praise. “Zuan, Michael.” I gave them their tray of nutrient paste and fled.

The next day (human word for sol) I found a broken something in the Queen’s trash bin. It was silvery and had a lot of moving parts and made me think of Michael. I shoved it into my uniform and snuck it to Michael. They were overjoyed and immediately began fiddling (another human word I find pleasant to use) with it.

I found I enjoyed making Michael happy and kept my eyes out for things to gift them. A broken flute, a torn book, a shiny rock shard, a discarded pipe, a bit of string. It all was random junk, but Michael was still so happy for each item. It… was a pleasant feeling, almost like being back with my brood mates.

Then… Then the alarms sounded one morning and the ship rocked with an explosion. Frightened, I grabbed my precious green bean plant and rushed instinctively towards Michael’s cage.

Only to find they weren’t there. The bars were broken, bent outward and a piece of the wall was torn open, exposing sparking wires and smashed circuits. The lights were flickering and I could hear screaming. I decided to run for the escape pods and hoped that the Queen died in that explosion.

I had barely skittered into the hallway when I found Michael. They were fighting with a guard twice their size, but easily leaped around it’s bulk and stabbed it in the base of the skull with some sort of spear. A primitive weapon, but still deadly in the hands of the human. Michael rode the body of the guard down to the ground and leaped off, brandishing the spear at me.

Frozen in fear, I distantly realized the weapon was made from the shiny rock tied to a piece of pipe. I was to die from a weapon I provided then.

Except, Michael lowered the weapon and smiled. “Mikel! I find you! Come on! We get out of here!”

“Out… Escape?”

“Yeah! C’mon, I stole codes for ship!”

I followed them numbly, too scared and shocked to process that not only had a single human escaped a 1st class prison cell with just bits of junk, but had also destroyed the Pirate Queen’s ship, and was taking me with them.

It wasn’t until we were flying fast and far from the wreckage, headed towards a Trading Station, that I found my voice. “Why… Why would you save me? I…” I didn’t know how to express the fact that I was nothing, tiny, worth only for cleaning while the human was strong, big, and apparently a fearsome and brilliant warrior.

Michael glanced at me from the corner of their eyes. “We friends, Mikel. Friends no leave friends. Also, you trapped like me. On other side of bars, but trapped same.”

“Friends? But Queen provided for you, you were supposed to bond with her?!”

The human looked at me incredulously before laughing long and loud, his head thrown back with the effort of it. “No Bond with Queen, she put me in cage. You! You give me food, you talk, teach, you bring me presents. You good friend. Queen Piece of Shit.”

“Oh.” Michael had bonded with me. And.. I with them it seemed. And we were free. “Meesh meesh, Michael. You’re a good friend too.” I hugged my green bean plant. “What now?”

“I thinking I turn in Queen head for bounty, use money buy good ship again. After, you want go home or you want explore?”

My wings flared in excitement. “Can I have a garden room on our ship?”

Michael grinned and tossed his arm (gently) around my shoulders. “Yes, you have garden room. Grow lots plant in space. Explore! Garden! New Planet! New Seed!”

Part 2

I hate in the MCU or anything when the aliens or whatever are attacking and everyone’s just ‘oh yeah we be chilling just cowering over here’ as if seventy percent of humanity isn’t really angry all the time like catch these hands motherfucker I’ve bitten people for trying to steal my chips you think you can just steal my whole fucking planet YEET HERE COME MY TEETH film people be using responses to natural disasters but I promise if human sized things came to throw down humanity would be ready to fuck them up like yeah you got laser guns I got this dope ass stick I just found let’s go you ugly fuck

silentwalrus1: #yeah bicht!!!!!!#gimme the battle of new york with fuckin chitauri comin down and the shift manager of the times sq H&M has finally had Enough#Tracie bout to kill this alien with a traffic cone#’ JUST PRETEND THEY’RE TOURISTS’ she screams choking out goddamn Lizard Lite with her lanyard#10 feet away a park slope mom is beating an alien to death with her four year old’s knockoff eco friendly razr scooter#every single retail employee gets ten years’ worth of therapy in one day#captain america’s kill count: 83 aliens#kathleen from accounting: 94 and also her boss

@nyodrite I need this like air but more

No one believes her after, but she swears to every deity out there that she went to high school with the guy who’s shooting the arrows. It was only for, like, a month and he was so angry (scared) so she didn’t really know him, but–

But she went to high school with the guy shooting the arrows.

She’s not brave, okay? She’s run from her fair share of muggers and held her thanks in her heart when another vigilante came to chase them away. She’s carried her car keys in her fist like daggers, cut strangers with the look in her eyes, kicked out at corners before turning them just in case.

She lives in New York, she knows how to keep her head down, keep a look out for debris, and run. She’s doing it too, dodging buses and cars and people as she scrambles away from the sound of alien technology and alien language. The panic response is strong, real, and she’s not ashamed of the way she screams as the street explodes under her feet.

Then she realizes that the guy who shoots the arrows went to her high school and the aliens don’t seem so alien. She went to high school with the guy shooting the arrows at the aliens and he’s hurting them. The look on his face says that he’s at the end of his line and she–

She realizes, crouched behind a burning car, that she is too.

New York explodes every day. Sometimes the sun is blocked out by aircrafts from other countries, other worlds. Her work practiced drills in case Doom sends robot spiders into the air ducts with nerve gas.  Again. Jeffrey down the hall slapped her ass on Thursday and, after, she wasn’t proud enough to turn down his offer to walk her to her car.  Again. 

Her eyes land on jagged, blue metal, the remnants of a mail box. The leg is just the right size for her to wrap her hand around it and she’s just far gone enough that she doesn’t care that it’s wet from lying in the gutter.

She hears that stupid fucking alien sound from behind her and, for once, she doesn’t think. She doesn’t think about how her hair is down (easy to grab) or how her heels are too high (hard to run in).

She swings her arm around, a snarl ripping from the remains of her throat, and bitch slaps that alien motherfucker right in the theoretical face. The thing flails, gun arm going wild, and stumbles back. She follows it , heels snapping against the concrete and raises her metal club over her head. She brings it down on the back of the thing’s neck and does it again even as it falls, stops screaming, and goes still.

“I, uh,” a man says from behind her, “think it’s dead.”

The voice is wrong for the situation–too calm, too dry, too amused. She turns, feeling alien blood dripping from her face, and leverages her weapon.

The guy who shoots the arrows takes a hasty step back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Team human here. You need to get down to the subway, they’re basically bunkers–”

She tracks his gesturing hand and glances to the nearest entrance. People are streaming in, directed by police and fire and good Samaritans. She’s shocked that she doesn’t want to go over there. She’d much rather stay here.

She blows hair out of her face and says, “You went to my high school.” Another alien charges them, making some sort of clicking noise, and there’s an arrow sprouting from its throat between one blink and the next. It happens so fast that she can’t stop her lunge and swing in time. Her weapon connects with the side of the alien’s head instead of it’s chest with a sick thunk. It takes muscle to yank her club out of its skull, but she manages and the body falls back onto the asphalt.

They both stare at the dead alien for a long moment.

“Right” arrow guy says. He seems to have decided to let her do what she wants. He takes a deep breath and says, “No one’s going to believe I went to high school.” 

“But you did,” she says.

He starts jogging towards where the aliens are concentrated, arrow already in hand. “Yeah,” he says over his shoulder, “but they won’t believe it!”

“I–” she starts, but he’s too far away, fast as all hell.

She takes out her irritation on the next alien who makes that stupid scifi noise right next to her ear.

Reblogging because my favorite tumblr author made it better.

you leak 

From A Closed and Common Orbit by Becky Chambers, which I haven’t read but based on the Goodreads quotes, I need to.

I want to hire literally everyone who has contributed even slightly to the Space Orcs and Space Australians tags to make a video game in which you literally just Dick around in a colonized Galaxy and terrorize the locals as a human in first person. Also community made ships. I want high intelligence AI for the aliens and for there to be role playing element to it. This is literally just an idea in the wind so wink wink indie/Triple A developers FUCKING PICK THIS IDEA UP.

No, no, no, this is amazing!! Let’s go deeper!

YOUR AVATAR: Based on things you choose for your avatar, everything from physical to emotional to personality, the game responds accordingly.

Example, you’re 5′0″ tall - you get to freak aliens out when the engines fail and no one can get into the engine room, except you through the vents because you’re only five freaking feet tall and barely weigh 115 lbs. Problem: you’re not an engineer but you have to find a way in there and get the doors clear so the engineers CAN get in there, otherwise everyone’s gonna die!

The game CREATES situations based on who you are/have chosen to be, so an avatar who’s a forty-year-old, black man and CMO on his ship is going to have a very different gaming experience from an avatar who’s a sixteen-year-old girl from India who’s instigating trade agreements/negotiations with other planets - and that’s only IF they clicked ‘yes’ to a specific field or position. We could literally have a whole bunch of avatars running all over kingdom-come just for the giggles!

I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO SKILL IN DEVELOPING ANY KIND OF SOFTWARE FOR THIS KIND OF STUFF. SOMEONE GET ON THIS!! Please?

I LIKE THIS KEEPS THE IDEAS COMING

Okay. Ideas. Here we go:

You’ve identified your avatar as an extrovert and social butterfly - congratulations, you’re on the list for special invitees to elite parties where everything from hostage situations to lasting friendships with emperors take place.

You’ve identified your avatar as curious and a quick learner - you get to explore different worlds and learn new languages. This can be done either on cargo or exploratory vessels or both!

You’re courageous and reckless - you help save your crewmates after a crash (which you caused).

You’re conscientious and shy - your crewmates adore you because you go out of your way to put their needs and wants before yours. This also creates general confusion because they don’t understand that their happiness makes you happy. That being said, when pirates take the ship, your crewmates go absolutely nuts when that one pirate punches you because NO ONE TOUCHES OUR PRECIOUS HUMAN!! WE WILL RIP YOUR ARMS OFF!!

Positive and negative personality traits will also either create or nullify situations, especially when used in specific combinations. You can create as many avatars as you want to unlock certain situations/levels.

Also your avatar shouldn’t just consist your height and haircolor. You can say how good your eyesight is, and if you need glasses (which you could lose at some point in the game) you can add them. And hairdye and coloured contacts to freak your alien friend out. Further, what about that post from ‘walking through memory’. At some point in the game you are in a familiar place, but the light goes off and you have to find the way relying on your memories.

The Beginning of the game should reflect your character, like starting in a prison cell for being too violent, or waking up on a normal morning only for shit to get serious real fast. For the prison escape you cause a riot and get to the landing platform with your prison buddies and have to choose a ship. Each ship decides the fates of your friends and how you start the game. Steal the Wardens yacht and one of your friends gets arrested by local authorities but you get an economic head start after selling it. Choosing the pod-dropship lands you on a mostly wild and uncolonized planet with one of your friends sacrificing themselves as bait while you escape to the planet. Choosing the fighter means that you abandon your friends but you now have a battle ready ship which can’t be fracked since fighters are easy to steal. Choose the Corvette and you will have to fight through a blockade and depending on how well you do, the more of your friends survive.

In addition: Human factions. For instance a part of the galaxy is under the control of all of Humanity, this section is split into several varying sub categories of humans who each interact with the Galaxy differently. Depending on what faction you belong to changes how aliens and other humans perceive you. If you belong to a faction largely controlled by companies you aren’t completely respected. If you don’t belong to a faction you are considered a wanderer by the galaxy and you do not benefit from any perks but you also do not lose any perks either. Being a high ranking official in a faction lets you play a more political style compared to that of a factionless adventurer/wanderer who can leave any solar system whenever they please to go fight asteroid worms for a quick buck.

@theterrorsofspacehumans

Imagine mmorpg.

A stabby roomba walks you through character creation, not to mention when you earn a rare skill.

Inevitably, no matter what choices are made, you find an alien who thinks humans are the cutest thing. There are three choices- Stock up on wierd merch to sell off later School said alien on the topic of respect Or gift the alien with 5 minutes of your presence/tolerance/autograph, which will lead to the discovery of an earthling pet shop. This is the only way to get a dog, cat, or bird.

You can adopt species from other planets. Adopt a fierce enough creature and it will defend you (as much as its stats allow) from any hostiles

All aliens believe dragons and dinosaurs are real. Players cannot change this.

Crewmates level up a bit by bonding with each other. Humans get a bonus.

Adrenaline boosts stats temporarily

Political players get negotiation bonuses, and are more capable than aliens at deceiving others (Theres a post out there about hiding emotion. Its the one ending with “10 yrs costomer service.”)

Memes are misunderstood. Constantly. They become a comunication technique and you can rickroll listeners on any coms device at any time. (Pls dont)

You can choose a few habbits. They are commented on and admired/feared

Stabby roomba bumping around is the loading screen

Idk these ideas work both mmorpg and rpg

Let’s dive into combat.

You have the choice of picking one weapon at the start of the game and as you progress you gain more efficient guns, spears, and other weapons.

Your characters fighting style depends on their traits. If there thin and short they tend to do dodge attacks and are the most proficient at light weaponry (pistols and knifes) excluding when they are on adrenaline, then they can handle big guns for a short time. Big muscled characters fight witch giant guns and are good at fighting with their fists, adrenaline makes them quite terrifying.

You are able to take lessons for combat and shooting at certain points in the game.

There are cases were some aliens just run away from you in fear of their lives, you can choose to attack them or not.

If you have an alien or other living being that you have a good bond with by your side when you are fighting your abilities go up by 25%

When you have pets by your side they will defend you against attacks.

That’s all I have right now

Special quests:

The more you complete certain tasks (that differ per job and skill set) you can gain reputatikn points. The more reputation points you have, the higher chance of activating a special quest.

Each quest would vary from species, to the description, some are traps as well. Better to take someone with you tgan go alone

If you successfully complete the task, you become better friends with the species and they will help you out. Can range from giving you items, information, advice etc.

As a pilot or engineer, you can choose to name and/or talk to the machines you work with, which boosts their performance over time

This is incredible and I want to offer my coding and project organizing hours to this if people want to make it happen

ok we have a discord with everything we need to get started. Artists and coders are especially important but everyone’s welcome to join in and help out :)

https://discord.gg/t2ZfvHj

come say hi :)

Anyone interested?

Hey friends. We already have a few people but we could always have more. Particularly those who are willing to lend their talents in 3d modeling and animation, especially for people and creature designs. This game is going to be a free open sourced community based project, so the more the merrier.

We could also use more people who know how to program (specifically in C# but any programming experience is good) and/or know how to work with Unity.

the link to the discord is https://discord.gg/t2ZfvHj.

reblogged to the wrong one, but see the above!

“Hey, Ka’a’alhatz, Moshie and I are going to get drinks tonight, want to come?”

Ka’a’alhatz clicked her mandibles nervously. The thought of going with humans to one of their bonding rituals seemed dangerous, but maybe they needed a moderator. “You are friends with Moseh still?” her speaking orifice struggled to form the foreign name.

Yitzhak’s feeding/sound hole opened widely to display his teeth - not threatening amongst humans, his cheeks were loose. “Yeah! Why did you think we weren’t?”

“Your argument last seventh day-cycle….”

Yitzhak kept grinning. “Yeah, what about it?”

Ah, yes. Humans and their fighting-as-bonding. “You threw a book at his head.”

“Well, I apologised, and it’s not like it was a holy book.”

Ka’a’alhatz clicked her mandibles in confusion. “Are these holy books worse to have thrown at you?”

“Well, they’re thick, just like the fleet manual I threw at him is. But you have to do rituals with it if it touches the floor.”

“As an addition method of apology to Moseh?”

Yitzhak laughed. “No, silly, as an apology to HaShem.”

HaShem, the divine spirit that Ju’ish humans, like Moseh and Yitzhak, believed watched over them. What a strange deity.“I don’t understand. Why does your deity care about books but not arguments?”

“No, no - He likes us to argue, see? It… “ Yitzhak paused. At first Ka’a’alhatz thought he was rethinking his ideological position, and worried what her accidental affect on human culture might be, but she soon realised he was thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Have the Guli’i’i’i’ikon ever had bad leaders?”

“Of course not,” Ka’a’alhatz told him. “Every Li’i’i’i’ikon is born into their caste where they are needed.”

“Humans aren’t like that,” Yitzhak reminded her. “Our castes aren’t biological the way yours are. Sometimes we have bad leaders, and we have to get rid of them and put someone who’s better in their place. But in order to know when someone’s a bad leader, we need to be able to think differently, see? And Jews have lived under lots of bad leaders. So HaShem likes it when we argue. It means we’re thinking independently, and creatively. Helps us come up with new ideas for our technologies, too.”

In some twisted, human manner, what Yitzhak was saying made sense. If you didn’t have leaders and thinkers biologically assigned, it made sense to have some kind of assurance against bad leaders, and encourage thinking. “Do all humans do this?”

Yitzhak thought about it for a minute. “No, I don’t think so. We all pick our leaders, but not all of us argue as bonding activities. If it helps, WASPs think we’re crazy, too.”

“What do stinging pollinators have to due with human bonding on Earth?”

“…Never mind, I’ll explain later.”

Ka’a’alhatz didn’t think she would ever understand humans.

More fuel for the ‘humans are the weird ones’ fire: We are arbitrarily frightened of creatures which can’t possibly hope to hurt us.

When a human crewmate begins howling fearfully after a routine stop on Terra, designated guards can’t get there fast enough. What sort of horrifying beast capable of frightening the all-consuming, self-poisoning, oxygen-breathing HUMAN could have possibly made it past security protocols?!

And it turns out it’s a cricket.

“Is it venomous?! Is it flesh-eating?! Does it spray some sort of biological agent that eats away at your neural pathways?!”

“No, it’s just CREEPY! It landed ON MY NECK!! Someone get rid of it!!”

Once the aliens understand the phenomenon of ‘creepy’, they’re even more confused. What makes it creepy? Why, in its innocence of living, does the lowly cricket inspire fear? It’s so underdeveloped by Terran standards; it doesn’t even have the mental complexity needed to experience pain!

And let’s not forget that these fears aren’t universal. Some of us are not only indifferent to the presence of ‘creepy’ animals, we actively seek to surround ourselves with them.

“Human-Jacob, why do you seek the assistance of Human-Vanessa when you find a Terran snake? Can you not hunt it yourself?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m not touching those things.”

“Is Human-Vanessa a predatory subspecies? Is that what enables her to capture them more efficiently?”

“What? No. She just thinks they’re cute.”

A lot of ‘humans are weird’ posts play with the idea that humans are one of the few species that actually evolved as a predator and, as such, we are unusually strong and fast— but what if we’re not.

What if we’re tiny?

What if, to the majority of species in the galaxy, ten feet tall is unusually short— it basically only happens due to rare genetic conditions— and the average human is basically cat sized or smaller?

Instead of being terrified by our strength, the aliens’ most pressing concern is how exactly they’re going to communicate with us when we’re all the way down on the ground.

There are experiments, with aliens crouching low or humans standing on high platforms— but it usually ends up being either uncomfortable for the alien or dangerous for the human, or both, and just generally impractical for everyone.

But, while the diplomats and politicians are trying to figure out a dignified and simple solution, the ordinary people who actually have to work with the aliens have found one. Humans are, generally, pretty good climbers, and most species have conveniently places scales, feathers, fur or clothing that can act as a hand or foothold. Sure, some humans have a fear of heights, but those aren’t typically the ones going into space. Besides, climbing on a living alien often feels safer than climbing up a rock or something— at least you know you’ve got somebody to catch you.

Soon it becomes accepted that that’s the way humans travel with aliens— up high, easy to see and hard to tread on (there were quite a few… near misses, in the first few meetings between humans and aliens), balanced on somebody’s shoulder like the overgrown monkeys that we are.

Many humans see this as kind of an insult and absolutely refuse to go along with it, but they aren’t the ones who end up spending a lot of time with aliens— it’s just too inconvenient to talk to somebody all the way down on the ground. The ones that do best are the ones who just treat it like it’s normal, allowing themselves to be carried (at least, it’s ‘carrying’ when the aliens are within earshot. Among themselves, most humans jokingly refer to it as ‘riding’), and passing on tips to their friends about the best ways to ride on different species without damaging feathers, or stepping on sensitive spots (or, in at least one case, ending up with a foot full of poisonous spines…).

The reason they don’t feel patronised by this is that they know, and they know that nearly everyone else in the galaxy knows, that humans are not just pets.

After all, you’d be surprised when a small size comes in handy.

Need somebody to look at the wiring in a small and fairly inaccessible area of the ship? Ask a human.

Need somebody to fix this fairly small and very detailed piece of machinery? Ask a human, they’re so small that their eyes naturally pick up smaller details.

Trapped under rubble and need somebody to crawl through a small gap and get help? Ask a human— most can wriggle through any gap that they can fit their head and shoulders through.

If you’re a friend, humans can be very useful. If, on the other hand, you’re an enemy…

Rumours spread all around the galaxy, of ships that threatened humans or human allies and started experiencing technical problems. Lights going off, wires being cut— in some cases, the cases where the threats were more than just words and humans or friends of humans were killed, life support lines have been severed, or airlocks have mysteriously malfunctioned and whole crews have been sucked out into space.

If the subject comes up, most humans will blame it on “gremlins” and exchange grim smiles when they’re other species friends aren’t looking.

By this point, most ships have a crew of humans, whether they like it or not. Lots of humans, young ones generally, the ones who want to see a bit of the universe but don’t have the money or connections to make it happen any other way, like to stowaway on ships. They’ll hang around the space ports, wait for a ship’s door to open and dart on in. The average human can have quite a nice time scurrying around in the walls of an alien ship, so long as they’re careful not to dislodge anything important.

Normally nobody notices them, and the ones that do tend not  to say anything— it’s generally recognised that having humans on your ship is good luck.

If there are humans on your ship, they say, then anything you lose will be found within a matter of days, sometimes even in your quarters; any minor task you leave out— some dishes that need to be cleaned, a report that needs to be spellchecked, some calculations that need to be done— will be quickly and quietly completed during the night; any small children on the ship, who are still young enough to start to cry in the night, will be soothed almost before their parents even wake, sometimes even by words in their own tongue, spoken clumsily through human vocal chords. If any of the human are engineers (and a lot of them are, and still more of them aren’t, but have picked up quite a few tricks on their travels from humans who are) then minor malfunctions will be fixed before you even notice them, and your ship is significantly less likely to experience any major problems.

The humans are eager to earn their keep, especially when the more grateful aliens start leaving out dishes of human-safe foods for them.

This, again, is considered good luck— especially since the aliens who aren’t kind to the humans often end up losing things, or waking up to find that their fur has been cut, or the report they spent hours on yesterday has mysteriously been deleted.

To human crew members, who work on alien ships out in the open, and have their names on the crew manifest and everything, these small groups of humans are colloquially referred to as ‘ship’s rats’. There’s a sort of uneasy relationship between the two groups. On the one hand, the crew members regard the ship’s rats as spongers and potential nuisances— on the other hand, most human crew members started out as ship’s rats themselves, and now benefit from the respect (and more than a little awe) that the ship’s rats have made most aliens feel for humans. The general arrangement is that ship’s rats try to avoid ships with human crew members and, when they can’t, then they make sure to stay out of the crew members’ way, and the crew members who do see one make sure not to mention them to any alien crew members.

The aliens who know, on the other hand, have gotten into the habit of not calling them by name— mainly because they’re shaky as the legality of this arrangement, and don’t want to admit that anything’s going on. Instead they talk about “the little people” or “the ones in the walls” or, more vaguely, “Them”.

Their human friends— balancing on their shoulders, occasionally scurrying down and arm so as to get to a table, or jumping from one person’s shoulder to another, in order to better follow the conversation— laugh quietly to themselves when they hear this.

Back before the first first contact, lot of people on Earth thought that humans would become space orcs. Little did they know, they’d actually end up as space fae.

So about those space orcs...

I’ve seen a lot of posts about humans pack-bonding with frankly everything, no matter how big, scary, threatening, lethal or oozy.

But you know what I haven’t seen?

Humans entrusting their young to their pack-bonded friends. Because that’s a thing we do. We entrust our children to our friends. We entrust our children to our dogs. We befriend the biggest, meanest, scariest shit, and then we dump our defenseless, hasn’t-even-got-a-fully-fused-skull-yet offspring on them. Half for shits-and-giggles, half because it’s cute, mostly because children are exhausting and we need a nanny.

Keep reading

Mom Friend

Ok but imagine how the aliens would react to the idea of the “mom friend”. Like the crew is losing their mind over the fact their human is reckless, doing so many dangerous things that would have killed any other race but of course it’s fine because it’s a human and those things are so hard to kill anyway.

The only planet that is a danger to a human is the one it came from.

So when the human-Kat comes into the control room with that adorable hopeful face a lot of the crew members are instantly on guard. The last time Human-Kat had that expression they almost lost Xe'rex to the waves of that one planet that Human-Kat just had to “Surf”.

“Can my friend Lola come meet us for the 34-OJ mission? She’s right in our pathway to that new planet? Please?” Huamn-Kat says and though they want nothing more then to say no, the crew of 626- Launch can’t say anything else other then yes.  They know how humans react when left alone for too long. Humans claim that their greatest criminals are placed in “solitary confinement” as punishment which goes very far to show how much bonds affect their life spans.

Human-Kat needs human interaction to stay alive and sane (or as sane as humans can be)

So the crew  agrees to have Friend-Lola on the voyage, slightly terrified of having two humans. But when the new human arrives it is not what they expected.

“Kat, have you finished your paperwork? Come on man, you know it’s due in like a day. Get on it.”

“Whoa dude, I love you ok. But no. You are not going to go surfing down there. It’s for your own good.”

“Girl you got the promotion?! Yes! Ok Ok! We need to celebrate with girls night in!”

“Hey I have some tissues in my bag somewhere hold on. There ya go.”

“Look at this game I picked up on RE-vr’. It’s just like Cards against Humanity but space!”

“Go. To. Sleep. Kat.”

“Remember that pact we made in high school? The one where I would stop you from doing something that will get you arrested or killed? Yeah well I’m calling it into action and saying that you do not lick anything on a unknown planet!“ 

This Human…holds common sense? That is possible for that race?!

After Friend-Lola leaves they ask Human-Kat about this and she merely laughs while swiping through photographs she had taken with the other human.

“Well Lola is the mom friend.”

And the crew of 626-Luanch are so confused because they have already seen photos of Human-Kat’s birth givers and they look nothing alike not to mention Human-Kat already has a Mom. Do humans have more then one “Mom”?

“Oh you know a mom friend is the one friend in a group that keeps everyone else from dying.” Human-Kat jokes.

But the crew is amazed. They have learn the reason humanity haven’t killed itself off. They send a message to every out post in the area.

If xe have a human on-board make sure that they are accompanied by a Mom Friend. These are the humans in charge of keeping other humans alive and well-behaved. 

@dangerouscommiesubversive

Oh my god

@ginger-mum

The human classification system is in constant evolution, but the addition of Mom Friend has helped with establishing parameters for the care and well-being of human crew members. There have been cases of incompatibility, especially with sub-class Asshole of the designation Cranky, but the provision of a designated “Ship Mom” has generally created greater stability for vessels with multiple humans on board.

An important note for Mom Friend humans is that they must be provided with designated human crew to care for. Even with said provision, some will expand their interest to monitoring and nurturing all sapients on board. Such monitoring may include anything from restructuring the mess to provide optimal nutrition with occasional “treats” to engineering a way to ease molting with the application of a warm, nubby cloth and soft cooing. Some Mom Friends can be stopped from this; there is a ritual surrounding the phrase “I was just trying to help” that is still being investigated for potential use after it is properly translated and understood.

Care should be taken to ensure that Mom Friend sub-class “Mama Bear” is kept away from weapons storage if there is any interest in survivors after a ship is boarded. 

Any Mom Friend designated human using “that’s it” in a declarative manner should be treated with level III diplomatic protocols. If the phrase is accompanied by some variation of “had enough,” evacuation of the immediate area is advised.

Across the galaxy, every life bearing planet evolved cats and nobody has ever figured out why.

My designation is Vespir, Radiant Prime. My exalted war-frame currently holds a geosynchronous orbit with a small blue and green orb of a planet. I am 276 solar cycles in age, according to the standardized time measurement of our Empire. Said Empire is vast, encapsulating 713 sentient species, over 2,000 habitable worlds in 1328 systems, and hosting three trillion individual existences. We are beautiful in our expanse, and gracious in our sovereignty. All are equal under the banner of the Empire, and all opportunities are afforded to those that would prove their willingness to work. Societal strife is practically non-existent, and our recorded history notes this current time as being the most peaceful to exist, other than skirmishes with anti-Empire federations. By all accounts, I am pleased and honored to live and serve in such a beneficent stewardship. 

However, one question has always burned in the core of my being since my earliest days, and it is for this reason that I have come to this far-off world. The question? That in and of itself is a small tale. I believe I was 15 cycles old at the time. Hah. How young. My psionic crystals had just grown in and my toxin sacs were constantly full. Such a time of adventure where every stray thought caught in my receptor was prized upon as a shining treasure. Alas.

We were on a science vessel for an educational trip, headed to a small biological preserve, and it was there that an interesting…quirk of the universe was revealed to us. A bored-looking Shalui grasped a small, mammalian animal in it’s numerous manipulator tendrils, stroking it’s short black fur with one while gently supporting it with the other six. 

“This life-form is a warm blooded, fur-possessing, carbon based quadruped belonging to the genus Helyne. Though many species exist under the genus of Helyne, all species are capable of successful mating with one another, producing viable offspring. Furthermore…” the Shalui instructor droned on, but we had long ago stopped paying attentions. Kaits, as they were called in our language, were admittedly adorable, but they were also everywhere. Our family took care of three. Why were we being told about something as basic as this?

My question was soon answered, though I had not voiced it with vocal or psionic activity.

“Though a generally agreeable type of life, no one would call the Heylne line particularly noteworthy. Steadfast companions, to be sure, but utterly common in ability and makeup. However,” our instructor mused for a moment as one manipulator tendril splayed open to gently caress the fuzzy cheeks of the animal. Seemingly caught up in the affectionate motion, he hastily continued. “there’s one exceptional thing about the Heylne.”

Silence, other than the contented vocalizations from the kait in his hands. 

“Across every star system we have reached, every world we have annexed, every regrettable war we have fought, one constant remains true. The genus Helyne. If you’re unaware of the significance of that…Vespir. Come here, if you would, young lord.” My features must have betrayed my rapt attention. I rose, not breaking sitting posture, enveloped in a blue shroud of psionic energy. Regarding me for a moment, the instructor whispered something into my mind and I nodded.

At the Shalui’s request, I unfurled my six slender legs, letting their scything tips gently click against the metal floor. It was considered rude for an Espiri to walk using their legs in spaces that were not their own and instead we moved with our psionic power once we were capable. Our legs were strong and slender, beautiful in a way, but had evolved as tools of fierce locomotion and terrifying weapons of predation. Not suitable for a civilized society. 

I now stood directly next to the Shalui instructor. Our races had come into their own on the same planet, in the same biomes. We fought and killed for thousands of cycles, until we abandoned the hatreds of our past and formed the Empire some seventeen thousand cycles ago. I understood the point my instructor was trying to make then and there. 

For living on the same planet, eating the same food, and adapting to the same circumstances, our races couldn’t be more physically different. Shalui were, to put it basically, a walking bundle of tentacles that had adapted to different tasks. That was a gross oversimplification, but enough to illustrate the point. Their faces were a gently pulsating mass of thin, gorgeous lines that fluctuated and reformed to make expressions. Espiri found them especially attractive when they were angry. On the other hand, an Espiri was a basic head-torso-limbs situation. Six legs, two arms, a slender build throughout. We possessed chiseled skulls, angular and almost geometric. As we aged, psionic nodes grew through our bodies, allowing us to manipulate our surroundings and communicate without talking. 

So how had the kait, or rather, the Helyne spread all the way across our galaxy and remained so ubiquitous? Simply living in a different hemisphere provided interesting variations of life, not to mention the extreme changes regarding the long timelines and unique challenges facing evolutionary growth on entirely new planets. 

From that day I knew. It was no accident, no random occurrence. Someone, or something, had seeded all worlds with this spark of life. Perhaps a great progenitor race, brilliant and wise in their infinite ages. For the next 250 cycles, I rose through the ranks of society, becoming Radiant Prime to Her Burning Will. Our light shone across the galaxy, illuminating the darkest corners, seeking answers lost to the scourges of war and time. 

I found it. At the edges of the Empire, on the fringes of civilized society, I found it. That progenitor-world I dreamed of as a youth, and chased voraciously. I devoured every scrap of knowledge from every single sentient race we came across until I had the pieces in my hands, and could only follow them to their conclusion. We had no designated name for the planet, but radio wave blasts recorded millennia gave me a moniker. Earth. A curious planet. Holding orbit, I gathered data with my war-frame, perusing imagery of the surface. I glowered at the feeds. There was nothing here. Perhaps once, long ago, some 150,000 cycles ago, there was a spacefaring civilization. But it had gone, and all that remained was the peaceful husk of massive tower, gleaming near the equator. Faint traces of technology were visible in the scans, including what looked to be a data repository based on the banks of crystal lattices buried in the earth. The tip of the tower looked like it once contained a massive payload, presumably ejected long ago into starspace.

Activating the anti-grav psions in the flux core, I descended on the “Earth.” I had built a communications cipher using their ancient radio blasts, capable of translating their Eyglishe and Khainese to our native tongue. The spire was wholly consumed with vegetation, but the structure was built to last. Perhaps a final monument to a species that encountered too many genetic flaws to continue. Perhaps a world grave, built by conquerors. Perhaps…simply an entertainment center. I had no way of knowing. 

Granting the space due reverence, I left the metallic shell of my war-frame and glided across the verdant flora that covered every inch. Holding one arm out in front of me, a holographic display popped to life, and augmented my vision. The data told me “down”, and so I descended from daylight into darkness. 

Time was nigh-meaningless on this star, but I felt the moments slip away from me. The holographic display indicated a passing of a thirty-sixth of a rotation before I reached the presumed data repository. It went without saying that there was no power, but our civilization was great in it’s foresight and technology, especially in regards to discovering secrets of the past. From a canister I produced an adaptive nanopolymer and a universal hardline connector to the solar power bays of my war-frame. After clearing off the console that was connected to the crystal lattices, I carefully poured the polymer over the console and watched it think for a fraction of a moment before shaping into a plug for the connector. 

I was finally here. Ready to learn the secrets of the past. 250 cycles in the making for me, but how much longer for the brave spirits that undertook this before me? I, Vespir, Radiant Prime, stood on the precipice of fate and prepared to be illuminated. 

The console flicked to life. A holographic display of an Earth native seemed to spin in place, surprised, before looking up at me. It appeared female, with a thick mane of black keratin descending from it’s round skull. It wore garments of black over it’s leggings and torso, accentuated with a coat of white. It’s skin was an attractive dark olive colouration - most likely a defense against the somewhat strong ultraviolet radiation. It’s two eyes - front facing, predatory and keen, decorated in lavish black frames - centered on me for a long moment.

It laughed, loudly. Audio boomed through the undisturbed halls. This was a vocalization of joy? Despair? Displeasure? 

“Holy shit, you’re kinda fuckin’ ugly man.” The hologram said, adjusting the frames on it’s skull, as if to see me better. It was a hologram. It did not need to perform this action to see me better. The translation was instant, and I understood the words, but I could not help my disbelief. The Earth-form continued. 

“Well, I say ugly, but that’s from my viewpoint. Biologically, god damn you’re fucking beautiful. Look at those legs! And you’re not even using ‘em! Wow. Those crystals? Is that some sort of psychic waveform generation? Jesus. Wish the actual me was around to meet you.” The hologram mused on as I regained my composure.

“I am Vespir, Earth-form. Radiant Prime of Her Burning Will. Who are you?” The earth-form tapped a digit to it’s lips before speaking.

“I’m Emma, uh, a human being. I’m the…brilliant…researcher of a super long dead civilization! Like, 180,000 years dead according to the data I’m getting just now and oh god that’s pretty depressing. I’m also a mind scan, so I’m really not even Emma. But hey, close enough, right big guy?” Sadness touched upon my mind, and I identified this feeling as my own. Waking up from an eternal slumber to find your existence to be unreal and your species gone. 

“I apologize for this intrusion, and for disturbing your much deserved rest. However…” I trailed off “Emma-Uh, I must kno-” In my excitement, I realized I had descended and splayed my legs out on the ground, so that I was supporting my own weight. My psionic nodes pulsed an embarrassed blue, and I retracted my legs, floating once more.

“Cute.”

“I….?”

“You were so excited you had to actually stand.” She was uncanny in her intelligence, noting my apprehension at using my legs in this space. I admired it.

“It was…not a deliberate action, this much is true. Regardless. I’m afraid I really must ask a question of you, before I return you to your vigil.” Emma-Uh seemed to regard me for a moment before she shrugged.

“Shoot, but I’m gonna give you a condition if you want my answer to whatever it is you hauled your alien ass out here for.” Her stance seemed aggressive. A power play, for sure, but it could not be contested. She held the correct cards, and I was surely performing a disservice to her by practically waking the dead.

“Agreed. What do you wish?”

“Take me with you.” She didn’t miss a beat. Bending down at the waist, she touched the non-existent ground and stood back up. “You’ve got some pretty amazing technology to interface with some old human junk this easily. You’ve obviously got a ship with some mode of faster-than-light travel if you’re here by yourself. You also have freakin’ psychic powers. I’m sure you can build me some kind of hot robot body in exchange for whatever priceless knowledge you want from little old me. Old, old, old me.” 

To say I was floored would be an understatement. But I could not refuse. Brash and vulgar, but possessed of a keen intellect, Emma-Uh could be a fantastic asset to our Empire. There was also something else.

Empathy. Guilt. I woke her into a quiet and unmoving world where she was the last of her kind. In that moment, she was thrust into the future and found out she was the digital ghost of a long dead woman. To say I felt reprehensible would to understate the matter. 

“Glowing spider dude, just let me see the stars, come on. I’ll tell you anything.” Her voice pierced my mired thoughts.

“…Agreed.”

“So what did you wanna know?”

I considered heavily for a moment, before I asked the question.

“What…are kaits? Helyne? Why are they on every habitable planet? Why are they such a constant?” The translator that met our words halfway formed these into the words she knew. Her eyes went wide and she laughed, laughed so hard she cried, falling down onto an invisible ground and rolling around.

“Cats? Oh dude, it worked? It fucking worked! Dude!” She yelled loudly, staring up at the forested ceiling. It was a long moment before she spoke, holographic eyes glazed over in remembrance. 

“Well, our civilization was dying out, we never mastered faster than light travel on a scale big enough to move colony ships. Just tight-beam information blasts. Everyone else was gone, and I was here, alone. The real me, not this spooky Microsoft ghost. It was just me and Ike, my pet. And I was like, ‘gee, Emma, aren’t cats great?’ So I…well. I kinda took a sample of Ike and ran it through a profiler, and I made a million, million variations of that double helix, and…I blasted that information into the great void. I really just thought, ‘wouldn’t it be neat if everyone could have a cat, even when all the humans are gone?’ It’d be a shame if the best thing about Earth couldn’t be shared with the stars.”

Confusion and a strange joy welled in my core. It was a longer moment before I spoke, deploying a data-probe into the console as I did. It activated a prompt for Emma-Uh to respond to as I did. The prompt read, “Accept transfer?”

“So…you, blasted a genetic information wave to the entire galaxy, seeding countless stars with Helyne data, because you thought ‘cats’ were great?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” Emma-Uh nodded as she tapped the prompt, slowly transferring into the war-frame’s vast databanks. I spoke to the warm darkness ahead of me, unsure if Emma-Uh would hear my words. They needed to be said anyway.

“…You made a wonderful difference to the universe.”

::clutches this post tightly::

OH WELL JESUS.