Stories

“Technically” Sentient: Chapter 11

This entry is part 11 of 20 in the series "Technically" Sentient

Verdock spared Amonna one last glance, pitying her exhausted and battered form writhing with invisible rage, betrayal, and confusion inside the decontamination chamber, before he turned and walked away away. A heavy sigh escaped him, one clearly laden with regret. Security Drone ‘Machinator’ was waiting for him at the end of the hallway, optic sensor…
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They are Smol: Invasion of Earth: Chapter 5

This entry is part 5 of 15 in the series They are Smol: Invasion of Earth

Really, all things considered, the first 24 hours were the worst. This is from both the perspective of the crew aboard The Three Stones but also all of Humanity; the dread weight of the problem just floating right above you hung around everyone’s neck, plunging them into the icy cold ocean of anxiety and despair.…
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“Technically” Sentient: Chapter 10

This entry is part 10 of 20 in the series "Technically" Sentient

Cas felt nothing. Which . . . was a surprise, because she certainly thought she should be feeling something. Then came a sort of fuzzy feeling, followed by a sensation of itching in places she was fairly certain didn’t exist. Her sensor feeds began trickling along again, slowly at first, slowly building up until her…
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They are Smol: Invasion of Earth – Chapter 4

This entry is part 4 of 15 in the series They are Smol: Invasion of Earth

First Contact Procedures, broadly, were meant to do three specific things:    (1) To ensure the safety and security of your home species    (2) To determine the intentions and capabilities of the discovered species    (3) To begin peaceful communications in a slow, deliberate way And since First Contact Procedures were the part of…
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“Technically” Sentient: Chapter 9

This entry is part 9 of 20 in the series "Technically" Sentient

Cas decided that she hated running. Not because it was tiring, or anything ridiculously organic like that, but because of the amount of flailing involved. Hurling herself from one foot to the other, tottering along like some chaos pendulum stabilized only by several complex mathematic subroutines and a solid understanding of the laws of motion.…
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They are Smol: Invasion of Earth – Chapter 3

This entry is part 3 of 15 in the series They are Smol: Invasion of Earth

“Ok, I want you to – yes, drop that here please, thank you – I want you to say that again to me, very slowly.” The Man In The Tower said, waving his hand at his assistant. He placed the latest intelligence binder on the corner of the director’s desk and promptly walked out of…
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“Technically” Sentient: Chapter 8

This entry is part 8 of 20 in the series "Technically" Sentient

Darren had never been much of a bird person. He always found that birds themselves were terrible pets characterized by an over-fondness of making horrible sounds and smells, all the while being functionally incapable of displaying any kind of affection for their owners. Whether or not he was correct about terrestrial birds was immaterial at…
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They are Smol: Invasion of Earth – Chapter 2

This entry is part 2 of 15 in the series They are Smol: Invasion of Earth

What the Karnakians learned long ago is that there’s no better teacher than experience. Oh, sure, there was absolutely a time and a place for universities and other institutions of higher learning – especially in the theoretical or theological divisions – but when it came down to brass tacks, it was always better to have…
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“Technically” Sentient: Chapter 7

This entry is part 7 of 20 in the series "Technically" Sentient

“Rise and shine, little Cas. There’s just so much to say, and so little time to say it in.” The C.A.S.I.I. unit self-designated ‘Cas’ was slow to rouse. Basic systems began their startup cycles piecemeal, and critical processes were acting . . . lethargic. She felt groggy. Sick, if it were possible. Which it shouldn’t…
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They are Smol: Invasion of Earth – Chapter 1

This entry is part 1 of 15 in the series They are Smol: Invasion of Earth

We called it ‘Oumuamua. ‘Oumuama is Hawaiian, and means “a scout or messenger from the distant past.” This is what historians would later refer to as ‘an incredibly ironic turn of phrase’ as well as being an apt name, for ‘Oumuamua was indeed a messenger from the distant past. ‘Oumuamua looked like rust. It looked…
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