Tag: Comedy

Categories
Oneshot Stories They are Smol

They are Smol – and Spooky! Halloween Oneshot

“Oh my God how did you even get that up here?” Jessica laughed, poking at the rubber mask.

“I know a guy – maybe you heard of him? Mr. Amazon Prime?” Mike said unflinchingly as his new face was smushed into his old one. With an unceremonious tug, Jessica pulled the zombie face off of her coworker’s head, turning it over in her hands.

“The OIH OK’ed this lame piece of shit?”

“Yeah. I mean, the list to pick from was heavily edited – either a celebrity, a robot-of-your-choice – any puns have to be-”

“Well you’re not that clever so-”

“Granted.” Mike said, tugging his mask out of Jessica’s hands. “Anyway. If you’re a pleb like me then you’re basically stuck with zombie, mummy or ghost. At least, with what you can get up here within half a year or make yourself-”

“Mmmm. Honestly, with your pasty-white skin I would’ve gone with ghos-HEY!”

Jessica barely dodged the thrown mask, laughing as it collapsed on one of the lunchroom tables. “Alright, alright. Man, this office party is gonna suck. No alcohol, no MDMA-”

“Look, it was one time-”

“Yeah, yeah” Jessica dismissed. “Mind if I see the catalog?”

With a wordless grunt Mike tossed the rolled-up mail-order catalog to his partner in crime. “Well. Anyway, I’m going to get my shit ready and finish my rounds; those oxygen scrubbers won’t change themselves. I doubt you’re gonna get anything from there for the party tonight-”

Jessica waved him off as she buried herself in the catalog. “Mmm. True, but I need a terrible sweater for the Christmas party next month. Turn off the gravity on your way out.”

There was a click and the sound of an airlock door opening and shutting in response. Jessica waited a few moments before pushing off with her toes – she gained some air and spun around, making sure the momentum would bounce her off the ceiling in a few minutes.

Until then, she flipped through the OIH mail-order catalog, musing on what – if anything – she should buy for Christmas.

————————————————————————————————————

Tr’Grakz could quite easily murder you on accident.

Granted, he never would – he was a pacifist – but the threat was there just based off of his biology. Once the dust had settled and Atlanta (and most of the world) calmed down, there was immediate fascination with his species; Not just because they were first contact and accidentally, successfully invaded the planet while apologizing profusely, but mainly because almost every Human alive had seen his kind before. Just, yanno. Boney. And very, very dead.

Tr’Grakz was a raptor. Well. He was a Karnakian, but if you just took one of those raptors from Jurassic Park, gave them four eyes, opposable claws, tripled their size and kept the feathers, well…

Point being, there was a media firestorm around their species, both good and bad. For a brief period some humans even thought his species were “forerunners”, whatever that was, and started a cult around them. It was cute until they started to sacrifice goats.

There was a long, long talk about convergent evolution after that.

Tr’Grakz was also having a good day. He was having a good day every day.

As part of reparations to the Human species the Karnakians (and the rest of the Galactic Senate) pooled some of their vast resources together and built a few space elevators, coupled to the [Zephyr] stations. They were excellent points for the various species of the Senate to intermingle, exchange culture, assist in uplifting/employment and all other sorts of social services. Covertly, it was also a way to… placate the more militant [Humans], as putting an alien embassy on every major continent smack-dab in the center of some of their major metropolitan areas would seem less like ‘ease of access’ and more ‘occupying force’.

Tr’Grakz was selected by representatives of the Sacred Council to help smooth over relations between the two species, and to generally prove to the intergalactic community that yes, while accidents do happen, you can always make things better than they were before if you work hard enough at it. This also means that he got to interact with [Humans] on a daily basis, which is absolutely something his fellow Karnakians would take their own tails off for!

Tr’Grakz sang to himself as he rounded the corner, his tweets and peeping echoing down the hall. His implant indicated that someone accidentally turned off the gravity in one of the station employee lounges, and since he didn’t want any of his [Human] friends to get into trouble he decided to make a little detour to the [Human]-occupied part of the station to clean up the mess.

Opening the offending door he took a quick look around, noticing that it was empty – save for some floating snack wrappers. With a bemused chirp he clicked the indicator panel, turning the relatively weak gravity back on.

“[HOLY SHIT-]”

Tr’Grakz looked up and saw a [Human] fall from the ceiling. What a human was doing on the ceiling would be a question answered later – in a blink of an eye he plowed through a steel table and a couple bolted seats, scattering them about as he stood directly under the [Human]

“|I’ve got you, little one!|” Tr’Grakz said, smiling wide

“[AAAAHHHCLOSEYOURMOUTHPLEAASS-]” the [Human] screamed, before falling onto Tr’Grakz with a heavy thud. With a subconsious reflex Tr’Grakz pulled the [Human] against his chest tightly, his feathers expanding under his vest to provide warmpth. The reflex lasted only a moment before he remembered himself and recovered, gently dropping the [Human] down on it’s feet. Her feet.

“|Are you alright? The ceiling is no place for you.|” Tr’Grakz chided gently, nosing the [Human] about to fuss with her clothing.

“[F-fine! I’m fine, I just – I uh, ah.]” The [Human] gently pushed Tr’Grakz’s muzzle away from her chest. “[S-sorry, I didn’t ah. I wasn’t expecting anyone…]”

Tr’Grakz nodded to himself. “|Understandable. I wasn’t expecting anyone on the ceiling either.|”

The two of them shared a look with each other, before Jessica began walking backwards. “[Well, I see that you’ve got some metal to clean up so I’ll just be going now, ok?]”

Tr’Grakz smiled again – not noticing Jessica flinch – and waved goodbye. “|Ok! I’ll clean this up in a few hours! Please don’t tell your [Human] friends to come in. Oh! And also not to rest on the ceilings. Please.|”

He stood there, smiling, as the [Human] backed out of the room, murmuring half-agreements and apologies.

————————————————————————————————————

Tr’Grakz was still having a very good day. He saved a [Human] who was stuck on the ceiling, further healing the rift that stood between proper [Human]-Karnakian relations. He was also – with the help of a swarm of microfabricators – rebuilding [Human-only] cafeteria 11-B.

He continued to sing and hum to himself, making sure the chairs were disassembled, repaired and re-fabricated properly. As the sweeper-drones made their second round (as metal filings are absolutely not what you want to step on, booted or not) he heard a mournful beep. Turning, he noticed a sweeper-drone had come across a booklet of some sort.

Idly, he bent down and picked it up.

With extreme self-control he folded the catalog in half, tucked it under his vest, and set the drones to complete the repair on auto-fabricate.

The door slid closed behind him, and Tr’Grakz began to walk back to the Galactic General section of Zephyr Station 8.

As he rounded the corner, he began to pick up his pace; a brisk walk to his species was a decent run for us, and by the time he was out of the [Human]-only area he was in a full-blown sprint. Dorarizin sidestepped him, Jornissians dipped to let him pass, and his fellow Karnakians just rolled their eyes and made way.

————————————————————————————————————

Shpressnrek murmured to herself and moved her pawn forward. She tasted the air for a brief moment before letting go of the piece, settling her hands back down infront of her.

Rgrezneh-of-Hrzgaren remained on her haunches, staring at the board. The [Human] game of chess was new to everyone – of course it was – but it was simple in it’s rules and species agnostic, so it along with a few other human games had started to make their way into the Galactic community at large.

The Dorarizin picked a bishop – before letting it go and instead picking a rook – and moved it forward, blocking Shpressnrek’s pawn.

“[Hm. There, I thi-]”

The door to their private lounge didn’t so much as open as it evaporated, bits of it flying around the inside of the room to the consternation of the duo and the rest of the patrons.

Tr’Grakz had appeared, and he had news.

“[Bretheren!]” he chirped, happily taking the blows of various snacks, drinks, spicy insults and scraps of door as he skipped his way into the room.

“[By Sotek-who-circles-the-world, can’t you just be normal?]” groused Shpressnrek, working in tandem with Rgrezneh to place pieces back in the proper positions. “[What could possib-and you just dropped this on our game board. Seriously.]”

Rgrezneh-of-Hrzgaren growled at Tr’Grakz. “[I’m going to be talking to your Counselor about this-]”

“[Bretheren, look first! I came here as soon as I found it!]”

“[It’s…Oh. OH!]”

The dynamic entry, combined with the reactions of the chess players, caught everyone’s attention. A circle of interested species formed as the Jornissian flipped through the OIH Handbook catalog.

“[Mmm, let’s see here. Approved food, approved snacks, approved- huh.]”

“[Well! I didn’t read it before coming here – what’s the deal?!]” Tr’Grakz peeped, dancing in place.

“[It’s a list of costumes-]”

“[Oh! Look! The date – they’re going to be doing costumes tonight?! Was anyone invited?!]”

“[Awww]” Rgrezneh murmured, tilting her head. “When I talked to my [Human] he was saying that’s what their young do. I guess the adults to it as well sometimes?]”

“[Maybe it varies by culture? Or by person?]” someone else piped up, the table now thick with faces.

“[Let’s see here. Approved and unapproved costumes.]”

Rgrezneh-of-Hrzgaren laughed as she saw a human in what looked like a Dorarizin costume – A very bad one at that. “[Aww, No! No way, no scentless way!]”

“[They’re trying! Let’s see. [Werewolf]. Anyone got anything cultural from that?]” Shpressnrek called out, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

“[Ah!]” someone piped up from the back. “[Old story, basically a hybrid of their [wolf] predator, a pack hunter, and a [Human]. So possibly a cursed [Human]?]”

“[Makes sense. Next, a Zombie. Well, we all know that one – dead [Human] brought back to life, very scary.]” Shpressnrek grinned to some sarcastic agreements. “[[Ghost]? Is that a Spirit?]”

“[Let’s just roll with the whole curse theme – a cursed spirit could be a ghost. If I recall, this holiday was supposed to be about scaring each other, right?]” another Karnakian ventured, taking notes.

“[Ok. A [Mummified]-[Human].”

“[Isn’t that one of their cultural artifacts?]” a Dorarizin piped up, and there was a slight debate.

“[Okaaay…so a cursed, preserved human. Next on the list, in no particular order…[Vampire].”

Rgrezneh-of-Hrzgaren hummed to herself as she studied the attached picture. “[…blood on the mouth, so eats… probably other [Humans]. Probably another curse of some sort.”

“[Hey, uh. Bretheren?]”

Most everyone turned to Tr’Grakz, a concerned look on his face.

“[Has anyone else noticed that most of their fears are of other [Human]s?]”

The group silently studied the list and attached photos with a little more scrutiny.

“[…are they ok?]”

————————————————————————————————————

Director Glenn “Silk” Abramson smiled as he raised a glass of non-alcoholic punch. “Ladies and Gentlemen, first, a Happy Halloween to everyone-”

“Happy Halloween!” cheered the motley crew of people before him, some raising up drinks and others, snacks, as they gleefully interrupted their boss.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway. Happy Halloween. Second, thank you all very much for only wearing the approved costumes. I noticed some of our allies out there noticing you-”

“Notice me, senpai~” Someone in the back yelled out, and received a flat stare in response over the laughter of the crew.

“Right, well. Anyway, it’s good to keep things professional and not step on any toes. On that note, Officially I have to explicitly inform everyone that there is to be no heavy drinking, no drugs – regardless of what country you’re from – and that we still have work tomorrow-”

The doors to Ballroom/Meeting Area 5C opened up to a menagerie of Galactic species; everyone was represented in varying amounts, and in varying degrees they all looked…worried.

They should. Director Abramson was getting tired of being interrupted.

“…Well. Welcome to the Human-only Halloween party, impromptu guests. Is something the matter?”

A Jornissian made it’s – no, her? – way up to the stage as the rest of the xenos crew mingled with – and singled out – a human.

“[I don’t know, Director. Is something the matter?]”

Director Glenn “Silk” Abramson, Manager of 200 Humans and the countless thousands that went through his docks every day, sucked on his cheek as he was pulled into a full-body hug.

“Am…am I missing something?” He said to the room in general, watching his other crewmates being gently held, or passed from one xeno to another.

“[Ssh. If you are, we’ll take care of it from now on.]” The Jornissian said, gently rubbing Glenn’s back.

Turns out, it was an OK Halloween office party after all.

Categories
Stories They are Smol

They are Smol: Chapter 16 – Arc 1 End

*Tic-tak tic-tak tic-tak*

Everyone has their little distractions.

*Tic-tak tic-tak tic-tak*

Some count tiles. Others play with their hands, a bracelet – or a ring. It’s called a “self-soothing gesture”, if you’re interested in the psychology of it.

*Tic-tak tic-tak tic-tak*

Sr. Senator Mateus Carvalho Araujo was a “fidgeter” – mainly, he needed something to occupy his hands when he was nervous, anxious, or just plain bored.

*Tic-tak tic-tak tic-tak*

Of all the things he could use – hard light fidget-dodecahedrons not withstanding – he had in his hand a metal small soccer ball, no bigger than a ping-pong ball, which was his toy. His father bought it for him when he was very young, for some FIFA tournament – the paint had long been worn away by his hands, and the ball had enough dents in it from decades of abuse that you’d only know it was a soccer ball and not a misshapen aluminum lump if you took the time to really study it.

*Tic-tak tic-tak tic-*

“Mateo, for fuck’s sake.” Growled Sr. Senator Nicholas Hermansson, rapping his knuckles against the metal conference room table. “Please?”

Mateo stopped tapping the ball against the corner of the table and instead rolled the ball in his fingers, tossing it from hand to hand. “Mmm. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sr. Senator Yao Wei murmured, flipping through an extremely trashy tabloid. “I still don’t really believe what you’re telling me, but the fact that you’re calling it even after the South China Sea incident-”

“Even? Hon’, this shit is going to sink all of us.” Sr. Senator Constance Washington said, her southern drawl coming out thick with cigarette smoke and heat. “-Me most of all. Can you fuckin’ imagine it? ‘Native Atlantan Senator approves normalization of Karnakian relations’-”

“Sorry.”

“Yer’ damn right you are, Mattie.” Constance interjected, a cigarette held tightly between two pointing fingers. “Stone Mountain is still a fuckin’ quarantine zone, we’re on the cusp of the 30th anniversary of the Fox’s rebuilding, and you drop this on my lap?!”

“Again, sorry.” Mateo said, paying more attention to the ball than to his colleague.

“Don’t be so sour, Connie.” Yao said, flipping a page to find out what batboy has been up to. “Mateo’s been in your corner for reparations every year-”

“Yeah, an’ that’s why I’m here, but I don’t have to like it.”

“I know. The session will be called, you’ve looked through the report-”

“Heads are going to ROLL at the OIH.” Constance said, taking another drag. “That’s what you get for cutting corners, I say.”

“Mmm, but you know there’s something up; they spun up two hundred thousand data models-”

“With their processing power” Yao said, licking her finger to turn another page, “That’s not something to sneeze at in terms of resources.”

Nicholas leaned back in his chair, bouncing the back in idle thought. “Still. A full data-analysis on our home media, algos and simos on Human affinity. Combine that with a head’s up on an Emergency Session with no forewarning, no chance to build a consensus, and a vote that would be legally binding? Who the hell is your mole, Mateo?”

“A Karnakian. One of their lead senators.” Mateo said, matter-of-factly. Nicholas leaned forward, studying his friend’s face hard.

“Bullshit.”

“Nope.”

“Bullshit**.** Mateo, there’s no way – this is a psyop!”

Mateo sighed at the exhuming of his friends’ old spook. “Look, just because you spent the first half of your career shutting down Russian Propaganda-”

“They’re everywhere” Nicholas hissed, driving his index finger down on the table. “They’re just now feathery and way too chipper-”

“Aaaaah!” Yao cried, causing everyone to turn to her. Looking up from the tabloid with a panicked expression, she quickly crumpled the paper. “Batboy! He’s on the dark side of the moon-”

“Fer Fuck’s sake.” Constance said, but by then the spell was broken – the four friends went from paranoia and anger to a more comfortable atmosphere.

“So. The plan, again?” Nicholas said, rolling his shoulders.

“We go in an’ act stupid. They’ll hem an’ haw, want to build on our home soil – which again points to my ‘habitable worlds are rare’ theory-”

“It’s not that.” Mateo sighed, bouncing the ball on his thigh

“Right, well, we vote against that cause I wanna be able to go back t’ earth-side without bein’ lynched – which theoretically we have the votes to stall that-”

“We do.” Mateo murmured

“-I fuckin’ hope we do. And then you’re gon’ do something and our eyes’ll be opened an’ we’ll all have us a come-to-Jesus moment.”

“For the most part, yep.”

“…I hate you when you’re like this, Mattie.”

“Love you too, Connie.”

“Well.” Yao said, smoothing her tabloid out again. “At least if things go south we have a better chance – the TDF actually exists, for one.”

“Mmm. But they never give us any updates.” Constance said, stubbing out her now-dead cigarette. “All we know is what the public knows-”

“Well I did pick up something interesting.” Yao smiled, mischeviously. “Apparently they lost contact with the Hubble a day ago-”

“What?!” Mateo blinked, suddenly sitting upright. “Shit, I forgot to turn off that killswitch-”

Mateo’s panic was interrupted by the door suddenly flying open, a very flustered intern panting at the door.

“S-Senators! Th-there’s an emergen-”

“Yep”

“Yoh”

“Da”

“Mmm” They replied, standing up and putting their things together in no real hurry. Cups were drained and recycled, air was filtered and circulated, roombas were unleashed, clothing was smoothed out – each senator taking their time in getting prepared.

“Some – hah – someone…got to you first?”

“Mmm”

“Eh”

“Nyet”

“Mnn?” They replied, just as noncommittal as before, filing out past the unnamed intern.

“I-it’s, they’re holding it at-”

“Yep”

“We know”

“кто вас послал? что ты знаешь?”

“Here, hon.” Constance said, patting her mostly-empty softpack into his uniform shirt pocket. “Take a break.”

The intern, whose 15 seconds of fame was now up, just sighed and slumped against the wall.



It was meeting room 7-E, if you were curious.

The reason why it was meeting room 7-E was because 7-E is equidistant from everyone (so it’s just as much of a pain to get there), it’s held deep within the station (so you can shield it from everything), it was large enough to hold a handful of each race comfortably (so you can have your secret meetings in peace) and, most importantly, was only 20m away from one of the best dive concession stands on the nexus.

Don’t judge. When you’re 2,250KM above the surface of the earth even The Varsity’s food looks damn good.

“[…and finally, we greet Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn. The 5th Emergency Session of the Four United Races is now active. All exits are now locked until the state of emergency is lifted. All electronic transmission devices are suppressed. Internal recording devices are now on, with IFF markers active. Each representative has full authority to speak on behalf of their species, and in this time of emergency, their word is law. I, Matron Ti’Shek’qc, speaker for this session, do hereby relinquish my initial duty of announcement to allow general discourse to begin.]”

The multi-hued Karnakian dipped her head slightly, pointedly maintaining eye contact with Mateo as she sat down across from him.

Each Species was arranged around the four corners of the room on a raised dais; each dais had workstations tailored to that particular species’ physiology included on it, as well as tables, chairs, and various refreshments. As size so often also meant status (and because the Humans weren’t as… large as their counterparts) they were given a few more pieces of furniture to fill out their section.

The couches and mini-fridges made sense. The foosball table was pushing it.

Regardless, the podium for each species was at the prominent corner, putting the speaker much closer to their adversaries and allies than the rest of the team. A Dorarizin, Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn, cleared his throat, and the three assembled species silently voted to give him the floor.

“[First, Thank you Matron Ti’Shek’qc for opening this emergency session. I’ll get right down to the marrow – our topic of conversation today is the [Humans], [Humanity] in space, and how [Earth] views their allies.]”

Mateo licked his lips and shuffled his papers as Constance Washington stared daggers at the Dorarizin. “And whatcould we have done as a people to warrant an emergency session?” she verbally jabbed, tapping the podium with her knuckles for each point made. “Our military is earth-bound, senate propaganda paints all of you in a positive light, our civilians are spread out amongst your people-”

“[It has to do with these [memes], and how they degrade us.]” Strsk’ressn interrupted, tightening his coils around himself. “[One of your people on our ship was distributing propaganda-]”

“An’ how in the blue hell are we supposed t’ monitor the thoughts an’ actions of everybody?! Not to mention we’ve adopted universal freedom of speech, so-”

“[This was state-sponsored degradation propaganda, Senator [Constance].]” Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn said, pulling up a broken copy of the edited Jornissian movie on every podium’s screen. “[This came from your [OIH], and has been independently verified by another [Human] miner named [Bill].” As he spoke, a second screen overlaid on the first, showing an unreasonably comfortable man showing captioned pictures with Dorarizins in various poses and with various glowing minds.

The reason Mateo and the rest of his skeleton crew voted to have Constance lead was not because of any long-standing tradition, or even because she drew the short straw on this one. It was simply due to the fact that as an older black woman she had (1) raised 3 children and constantly prodded one husband, (2) risen through the politics of her local baptist church to be a deacon (which arguably is more difficult to do than normal politics), and (3) had an impeccable bullshit detector. Couple that with the fact that she did not give a single fuck as to who she was sassing, and would happily tell you – and give you – a backhand if you needed it, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Often times, you’d get a backhand even if you didn’t need it; she was into preventative maintenance like that.

In other words, she was the perfect front man.

“How dare you insinuate that our cultural artifacts are some sort of long-standing ploy to disparage our allies!” Constance yelled, drawing herself up to her full towering height of 5’9”. “The very fact that you would call an emergency session to talk about this – this utter bullshit speaks ill of all of you, and I have half a mind to withdraw from this session in protest!”

“[Senator [Constance], you can’t be so blind to the evidence-]”

“Oh I know this cold-blooded dipshit did not just tell me I am dumb to my face-” Constance said, whipping around to glare at Strsk’ressn, causing him to stiffen up slightly before launching into a counter-argument, followed shortly by the Dorarizin, with the Karnakian delegation just trying to keep the peace.

Just as planned.



“[Then we have NO OPTION LEFT TO US-]” roared Strsk’ressn, slamming his fist into the podium before him. “[We MUST crush this nest before it hatches! I have put forward a motion that would allow civilian [Humans] to integrate peacefully with their Galactic allies-]” he hissed, pointedly attempting to stare down Senator Constance, who by now had already taken off her earrings and heels. “[-by providing them the ability to do so on their native soil!]”

“You’re advocating invasion, you littl-”

“[I agree]” Interjected Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn, the rumble of his throat loud like thunder. “[The only way for us to make sure that there is no bad blood as we share technology with you is to make sure tribalism is stopped early. I second Senator Strsk’ressns’ motion, with the additional addendums that a permanent group of vetted, safe citizens be allowed to live in peace on the planet [Earth], and that this motion is backed by the full propaganda arm of [Humanity]’s [OIH] in the spirit of integration. I motion to put this to a vote.]”

With impressive aggression a little indicator light blinked on Mankind’s terminal, demanding a vote.

“FUCK ALL Y’ALL.” Senator Constance said, adding in a few very spicy hand gestures. “TAG ME OUT.”

Senator Constance spun on her heel and walked back to the rec area, high-fiving Mateo on her way over. Mateo stopped only to pick up his bag and a steaming cup of pick-me-up.

“[What.]”

“Mmm, sorry. There’s only a slight chance this is just coffee.” Senator Mateus Carvalho Araujo said, placing a warm mug on the indicator light.

“[It’s not.]” Sniffed Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn, frowning. “[And we have put forth a motion to-]”

“Yep, yeah, we vote no.”

“[…]” The assembled species looked pointedly at each other – Matron Ti’Shek’qc giving a noncommital shrug as she poked her indicator along with Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn and Senator Strsk’ressn.

“[We vote for the measure-]”

“[We vote for the measure-]”

“[We vote no as well.]”

“[Then we’re agr-WHAT?!]” Roared Strsk’ressn, rounding on the now extremely smug Karnakian, who simply nodded at Mateo as yet another verbal tirade began. Mateo raised his coffee in a silent salute, a tired smile spread across his face.

As the Dorarizin and Jornissian delegations began to tear into the Karnakians – figuratively, not literally mind you – Senator Mateus fished out from his messenger bag a certain device. This device was passed around to the three other Senior Senators, and three happy little beeps added to the cacophony of noise. Wordlessly, Senator Mateus typed in a second motion and broadcast it to the surrounding podiums.

“[-and you can forget about cohabitation on any binary stars, once we ge-]”

*Ding*

The sudden silence was deafening as each species looked at their screens.

Humanity hereby petitions for increased aid in re: extra-terran colonization, industrialization infrastructure for a sovereign space fleet and R&D into cultural dissemination practices.

Humanity hereby petitions for normalized relations with the Karnakian Theocracy, and the lifting of all punitive measures in re: Destruction & Invasion of Earth, and the cessation of any punitive measures in re: The 5th Emergency Session of the Four United Races.

Humanity hereby petitions for suppression and destruction of all information regarding recordings, findings and decisions of The 5th Emergency Session of the Four United Races, and a coordinated propaganda campaign in regards to this petition and the previous two petitions.

“I mean, I can’t really do the second one in here, but I figure it would be good to have it on record.” Mateo said into his mug, taking a deep drought.

“[What has gotten into you, Twitchy-thumper? Has the tiny-chompers’ representative gone mad?]” Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn said, smirking.

“I’m- wait.” Senator Nicolas said, shaking his head. “What, repeat that. Just. What?”

“[What do you mean, shadowpouncer? I asked if the tiny-chompers’ have lost their minds.]”

“[The warmcuddles haven’t lost their minds, Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn.]” Strsk’ress said, rolling his jaw. “[We’ve simply been out-maneuvered by-]”

“What the fuck is a tiny chomper?!” Senator Nicholas said, turning to Yao Wei. She shrugged, tapping her earpiece. “Hell if I know – you tell me what a warmcuddle is first.”

Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn blinked and Strsk’ress’s jaw went slack, as behind them their associated attaches began to furiously delete everything – all to the musical tune of Matron Ti’Shek’qc’s laughter.

“[You Traitor! You updated their com-]”

“[It was our mistake to begin with, so it is our prerogative to make it right!]” Ti’Shek’qc chirped and bobbed, her feathers standing out in what could only be described as maximum smug. “[It is not the fault of the little-needs-protecting, now is it?]”

“Litt-what. What?” Nicolas continued to parrot, his brain desperately trying to make connections in the conspiracy-shed out back that had become his mind. “Wh. WHAT.”

“[Look, it’s not our fault-]”

“Then tell me-” mused Mateo, swirling his drink before taking another sip, “exactly whose fault it is anyway? As far as I can tell, you’ve had these interesting names for us since, what, ever?” He looked at the almost spherical ball of smug that was Ti’Shek’qc, who nodded in agreement.

“[I-it’s- look, we meant nothing by it, twitchy-thumper.]”

“Mmm, I’ve heard that one before.”

“[It’s not our fault – it’s your fault!]” hissed Strsk’ress, somehow seeming to lunge at the human delegation while, in fact, retreating into what could only be called a ‘Jornissian-ball’ of coils on his dais. “[How could you expect us to notcall you warmcuddles?!]”

“Oh, I don’t know, common Human decency, a respect for your fellow sapient-”

“[To be fair, you did make it easy.]” chirped Ti’Shek’qc. “[You can’t really blame our scouts for what they did-]”

“Yeah, explain yourself, speaking of, what the fuck.” Yao Wei said, reverting back to a 1st-year english level of speaking as her brain tried to furiously parse the new words coming into her comms.

“[Well, ok. What’s your home world’s name?]” ventured Ti’Shek’qc.

“Earth”

“[Dirt. You’re Dirtlings.]”

“Well, no – ok, I see. Terra, then.”

“[Which also means dirt.]” halfheartedly rumbled Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn, who by now had rested his jaw on the edge of his podium. “[And you call your moon, moon.]”

“W-well, hey-” Mateo said, plunking down his ‘coffee’ mug. “That’s not fair-”

“[You call all other orbiting bodies moons, sometimes, but your moon is moon.]”

“Ok, but-”

“[Your sun is named sun, which is a star. Other stars can also be suns, but your sun is Sun.]” added Strsk’ress, as more and more of him disappeared into himself. “[It’s like you point at a thing, name it, and then just go along with your entire species’ existence-]”

“[And don’t forget the little-needs-protecting religions-]”

“Now y’all motherfuckers leave baby Jesus out of this-” Constance began, before Ti’Shek’qc trilled over her. “[And what is the name of your deity?]”

“Jesus.”

“[Who is also?]” ventured Ti’Shek’qc, smiling wide.

“God.”

“[So what is your God’s name, then?]”

“…God. God is God – don’t you fucking smug at me-” Growled Constance, lifting up her heel to make the 15m toss across the pit.

“[And what even is the Placebo effect?!]” cried Strsk’ress, turning in on himself in embarassed rage. “[You warmcuddles just really wish hard enough and your body kinda makes it happen?!]”

“That we don’t know about.” Shrugged Yao. “But it’s kinda cool.”

“[You literally hope hard enough and it works – just like every single feel-good hatchling story, nippysnoof. That makes no sense.]”

“Nippysno-”

“[Ooh, or lookit-teeth. What even is that?]” ventured Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn to the open air.

“Lookit-teeth?” Nicholas said. “What?”

“[That thing you do when you get tired, protect-from-russians.]” Ti’Shek’qc said, slowly deflating. “[You know, with the open mouth-]”

“You mean yawning?”

“[Yeah! Are you trying to intimidate me? Are you trying to show us your strength? No. Nope. You just want to sleep.]” waved Vresh-Nrelgeh-of-Arzgrn exasperatedly. “[And you expect us to take you seriously-]”

“We Humans are a proud and noble people – we are not cute-” Nicholas roared, earning him a trio of sighs.

“[We vote for the measures-]”

“[We vote for the measures-]”

“[I happily and will always remember this day as I vote for the measures-]”

“Well then.” Sighed Mateo as he upturned his empty cup of mostly-not-coffee. “Good stuff, glad we had this meeting. I’ll expect a triple-resource budget allocation on my desk tomorrow morning, then?”



“<What is that?>”

“<Hmm?>” Str’kzssi said, looking up from her terminal at the main screen. On it, [Earth] sat in space, suspended on nothing, as she always had since time began. Everything was as it should be, except for a small, angry red dot.

“<That, that glowing re-AAAH!>”

There was a sudden flash of red light that flooded their optical sensors, and then…. Nothing.

“<By Sotek, what in the frozen hell wa- AAAH!>”

Another sudden flash of red, and then, nothing.

“<Well that’s annoying. Can we filter out whatever it is that’s doing that?>”

“<N->” flash “<-negative, Captain. We’re on standby as the surrogate Orbital Defense Fleet, so we must keep all spectrums>” flash “<-open.>”

“<Well that’s annoying.>”

Flash

Twitter
Categories
Stories They are Smol

They are Smol: Chapter 15

It’s time for government red tape!

  • Var’Shrak and The rapper formerly known as ZNA were able to submit a report
    • The Report in fact
      • The humans didn’t get their copy. :c
      • You could say a dog ate their mail

Now it’s time for political intrigue! Maybe. 

Let’s see how the duke boys species are gonna get outta this one

————————————————————————————————————

Brazil always speaks first.

Now, this is really one of those cute little facts that end up becoming standard practice, and then codified into law: Brazil always speaks first. 

You see, way back when the UN was less of the governing body it is today and more of a debate and “we really should be doing X instead of waging war, guis” club, Brazil spoke first at the General Assembly each year. It spoke at the General Assembly each year not because it won a particularly high-stakes game of poker (no matter what Senior Senator Antonio Silva insists) but because back then nobody wanted to speak first. Each country was deferring to someone else – for various reasons – until the ambassador from Brazil slammed down 5 highballs of caipirinha and just went for it. He did that every year until his liver failed, but by that time it became the norm for the Brazilian ambassador to speak first. That random act of initiative then turned into the norm, which has since been codified into law.

So, of course, when the world needed to unify, they turned to the one nation’s ambassador who they could expect would treat the office with it’s due gravitas and respect it deserved. The fact that he was a coke addict was absolutely not an issue, and so humanity’s first el presidente was elected, mainly because again – Brazil just went for it. 

Sr. Senator Mateus Carvalho Araujo, or “Mateo” as he was known to pretty much the entire human crew on Zephyr Nexus 01, was not el presidente. He was, however, the favored intern for El Presidente at the time, and so had the dubious honor of being Mankind’s first voluntold/‘elected’ senator. Unlike his patron Mateo actually got into politics in order to benefit the world, and so over the course of 20 grueling years rose to the high demands of his venerated office. 

Mateo was also having another exhausting day. 

The Senate wasn’t exactly one gigantic body where everyone sat in a room – or stood awkwardly on disk-shaped platforms dangling over a thousand-foot drop – and talked things out before having a vote and then partying on the taxpayer’s dime. Instead, there were many “senates” depending on the scope and topic being covered. You want to discuss trade negotiations? Well then you’d go to this sub-senate that’s specifically tailored to intergalactic trade and work the governmental machine there. You have an issue around refugee movement through your border? That’s sub-senate room AA-3112 that you’re looking for, though they meet only once a month. You want to talk to the people who manage the schedule and what’s generally to be discussed across all the governing bodies? Well then you need to talk to the Senior Senate, but they never take appointments. Ever. 

It might sound like a gigantic bureaucratic mess that exists solely to self-propagate it’s own top-heaviness, but…

…uh…

Well. I mean, it does allow subject matter experts to directly weigh in on legislation, and it’s not like the senators didn’t talk to each other in-between sessions or rely on separate resources. 

The average citizen’s overall attitude was “eh. It could be worse. At least we’re not anarcho-capitalists.”

However, none of this was going to help Mateo get through his day. His office – and the office of most of his support team and fellow senators – still followed the 10+hrs/day, 5+days/wk work schedule of the old-school Wall Street firms; demands happen all over the planet at all times of the day – and that’s not counting support for ex-solar humans as well – and so his office needed to stay responsive and up to speed at all times. Most other member species did this by having staff that measured in the hundreds of thousands.

Mateo did this with borderline illegal amounts of caffeine.

The subconscious twitch shaking his left eye had nothing to do with his caffeine intake, either. No, it very much had everything to do with the Karnakian Senior Senator that decided to walk into his human-scaled office and take a seat on his Italian leather couch.

The fact that she did this while Mateo was in the middle of a meeting didn’t seem to phase her. Nor did the fact that she sat down in between the two people he was meeting with seem to bother her at all – in fact, it did quite the opposite. 

“S…so…we’ll…discuss the reallocation of funds for destroying the Three Gorges Dam and the subsequent environmental re-stabilization of that particular part of the Chinese Territory once we finish dismantling the Hoover Dam – which should be finished sometime aro-can you please stop that.” Snapped Dr. Wagner, flinging his arm up to bat away at the enveloping feather-shroud that threatened to cover his vision.

“I mean, it’s – her feathers are pretty soft.” Ventured Dr.Liu, resting her hands in her lap – more to keep her paperwork steady as opposed to any sort of demure body language as a Karnakian ‘wing’ wrapped around her shoulders.

“[I am here to help!]” Chirped Senior Senator, Beacon-of-Light, Follower of the 9th path Bretheren-Sister-Matron Ti’Shek’qc, shimmying slightly in place to expand her torso’s….fluff. 

“If that’s the case why did you barge into my private meeting?” Mateo complained, not for the first time. “We’re trying to figure out how to best allocate this year’s environmental resource stipend, and we have a very full schedule.”

“[Well, I have something here that will be very helpful, but I can’t wait 5 of your months before we have our initial official conversation. So, I figured I would stop by and have a – you call them social calls? A social call.]” Ti’Shek’qc said, her crested feathers rippling in a nod to herself. “[And we are being sociable, yes?]”

Mateo inhaled sharply, paused, and then sighed. He drummed his fingers against his desk before leaning back, continuing the motion of both nervous/stress tics. 

“You do realize my office is sovereign Terran territory, correct? Barging in, unannounced, unwelcomed, kinda echoes…”

He let the implication fall over the room, and for her part the Karnakian had the good sense to lose her chipper attitude. “[Yes, this is a good point, however, since this is a social call that would mean I’ve been invited-]”

“To a private discus-”

“You’re not going to leave until you have a private meeting with me, are you.” Mateo said, not so much asking a question as coming to a realization, interrupting Dr. Wagner in the process.

Ti’Shek’qc smiled to herself and began to silently fuss over her immaculate feathers, preening simply to drag out the silence. Mateo had been in the business long enough to notice a few tells – some would forever be beyond him – but he knew enough to know she was smug. 

Mateo hated it when xenos were smug. 

“Alright. It better be good.” Mateo capitulated, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. 

Ti’Shek’qc sat comfortably on the couch, saying nothing, causing Mateo to frown for a totally different set of reasons.

“Listen, I may not be strong enough to move you but I will have you leave this off-”

“Dr. Wagner, Dr. Liu, thank you both very much for your time. Your combined efforts into the revitalization of our biosphere will not have gone unnoticed – I’ll wholeheartedly push for an additional 80,000 tons of material and the subsequent materiel to continue healing our planet.”

Dr. Liu jumped at the sudden dismissal and shimmied herself out of the Karnakian’s fluffy grasp, rising to her feet. “Senator, are you serious?! The acidification of the Pacific is a far more-”

“Thank you, both of you. Please inform my assistant outside that my schedule is to be cleared for the day.”

Dr. Liu and Dr. Wagner shared a look with each other – well, with each other and a very smugKarnakian, before silently grabbing their documents, files, examples and other bric-a-brac and leaving. The silence began after the door was shut a little too hard, leaving the two Senior Senators staring at each other from across a mahogany desk.

Mateo shifted in his chair.

Ti’Shek’qc settled a little more comfortably on Mateo’s couch, the cracking protest of wood causing both of them to flinch. 

“Again?”

“[Mmm, you should have a room-integrated nanofabricator for this kind of-]”

“Bah.” Mateo waved his hand dismissively. “It fixes things down to the molecule, but it misses… I don’t know. The repairs just seem too perfect.” 

“[Well, striving for perfection in all things brings us closer to The Great One.]”

“Ah. Well. Speaking about striving – what is going on? Apparently you need to talk to me about something that’s time-critical and off the books, so spill it.”

“[A report was given to my office, as well as the offices of the [Dorarizin] and the [Jornissian] [Human]-relations offices.]”

“So you’re here to deliver my copy?”

“[No. You’ll never get this report. At least, you’re not ever supposed to.]”

“Aaah. The ol’ Sao Paulo Paycheck. Alright, what’s your price?”

“[Normalized relations between [Humans] and Karnakians, the removal of the service prohibition across all employment sectors, standardized trade terms in line with the rest of the Senate species and 20TB of banned media – of my choice.]”

Mateo, for the first time in many, many days, began to laugh. It started as a chuckle, but as Ti’Shek’qc continued it ended up as Superlative Laughter – the very highest form of laughter, as all learned people know. He continued to laugh after she finished, and for quite a few minutes after; dying down at first, but only to redouble once he realized that she was serious.

Ti’Shek’qc huffed and tapped her feet against the ground while her counterpart continued. After an indeterminable amount of time the laughter finally died down, Mateo – now red-faced – wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Good GOD did I need that! Honestly, I’ll get you a banned movie just for that – hoo – that joke. Well done! But, but seriously – what did you want for that report?”

“[Exactly everything I said.]” Ti’Shek’qc replied.

“I can’t do that-”

“[You’re the lead Senator for [Humanity], you can pull some strings-]”

“Your people invaded Earth, and those who survived are still alive. Hell, my dad told me about when you guys wrecked Sao Luis as you swept down through South America from the Caribbean-]”

“[Accidents happen-]”

“Bullshit. Atlanta might have been an accident, but the rest-”

“[Regardless, we’re asking you because tomorrow there’s going to be an emergency Senate vote based off of this report.]”

“Alright, so how does that tie into Mankind?”

“[We know about the [meme]s.”

Without betraying a single thing Mateo leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk, clasping his hands together. “I speak on behalf of the Human Senate Offices as well as the United Nations in saying that we have no idea-”

“[The ones manufactured by the OIH.]”

“-and those rogue elements who have betrayed the trust of us all will be rooted out and tried for their crimes-”

“[We know why you’ve made them as well.]” Ti’Shek’qc said, softly. It was enough – Mateo stopped talking immediately, his mouth opening and closing a few times as his brain tried to come up with something to say.

It was having a hard time between “say something bullshittery to buy yourself time” and “Oh god the dinosaur knows and I’m all alone with it”, but muscle memory kicked in – his right hand shot down and punched into a false side under his desk, flipping a switch that was installed for only the most dire of needs.

Somewhere, out in high earth orbit, the Hubble began to glow an ominous red.

“[A-are you ok? It sounded like you punched-]”

“FINE. F-fine. We’re fine. We’re all going to be fine. Fine. Wh. What do you want?”

Ti’Shek’qc sighed, running her claws against her teeth in a plaintive gesture for her species. “[Everything I said. We… we are truly sorry for doing that to you – to you, your people, your world. The Holy Diarchy has been trying to find a way to make amends, but. Well.]”

“So this report.” Mateo said, speaking loud enough for the recording equipment to pick up. “Why is it worth… so much?”

“[Because tomorrow the Senate will hold an emergency vote, feign being upset and in the spirit of aiding your species request that they have more access to [Earth] in an attempt to normalize [Human]-Xenospecies relations.]”

“B-but that’s forbidden under the Icelandic Treaties. You can’t step foot on Terran soil.”

“[No, we very much can, which is why I’m here. You don’t have the military to stop us and you don’t have the votes. Three races-]”

“-got the report, right. Right. So it’ll be unanimous across the board with one dissenting vote, and then you invade earth properly this time.” He growled, his fists clenched impotently on his desk.

Ti’Shek’qc grimaced. “[N-no. They’d just want access to major cities, free travel – it’s all outlined. Maybe a few semi-permanent residents, but other than that nothing else.]”

“It might as well be an invasion. Hell, our population is already draining due to …well.” Mateo waved his hand at the general direction of earth through the wall. “So. So why are you here, then? Isn’t this what you want? More access to us? More culture to mine? More people to take?”

“[’A fat szikli is only pregnant with poison’. It is what we want, yes, but not how we want it. We’d never be truly welcome, we’d never be friends, we’d never sit at the table as brothers if we force ourselves upon you. We are willing to…give you the report, as well as additional information that will allow you to . . . Change the direction of the debate.]”

“. . . But that does me no good if we’re still a minority position-”

“[We will be voting against the measure – I, I have already seen to it, regardless of what happens here in this room.]”

There was another long pause as Mateo studied his colleague and counterpart, the stress of the past few minutes working it’s way through and out of the man. 

“[…the ‘information’ that I would give you to change the discourse would also, most likely, change everything.]”

“Everything how?”

“[Ah. No tasting the porridge before it’s baked. I need you to pull those strings.]”

“Well Fuck.” Mateo breathed, running his hands over his face and through his hair. “Either commit political suicide or allow the Earth to be invaded through bureaucracy? What options do I really have here?!”

“[I don’t know, but to whomever is listening in – it really is good information, and we really are on your side.]”

“Wh – you kn-”

“[I felt it click on.]”

“It’s a completely digital switch-”

Ti’Shek’qc shrugged, exasperatedly. “[I’m just saying, I felt it click on! That’s all! It’s also quite staticky, if that word translates.]”

“I just. Fine. Fuck it, fine. You got me in your corner-” The Karnakian smiled wide, and for the first time in many weeks a human didn’t reflexively flinch at the sight. Mateo, in fact, was leaned over the desk, finger pointed harshly at his co-conspirator. “But this intel better be the best fucking thing I’ve ever seen. What is it?”

Ti’Shek’qc slipped her hand into her vest’s front pocket, pulling out both a data chip and a small mechanical tool. She placed the chip – a rectangle about an inch high and 5 inches square, made out of a network of glowing crystals and nth-dimensional circuitry – onto his desk. “[That’s The Report and all correlated evidence, including quantum-time stamps, interviews – everything.]”

Without skipping a beat Mateo stood up with the chip and walked over to his door. As soon as he approached it two men in vantablack suits opened the door, and the chip traded hands. No greetings, no words were spoken – Mateo spun on his heel and the door clicked shut unceremoniously behind him.

“Alright. My boys will look it over- and what the hell is that for?”

“[It’s an implant modification device. What it does is-]”

“No, I mean, I know what it is – I had my ‘bead installed like everyone else. I mean, what is it for?”

“[It is for giving you the second piece of evidence. I am going to update your translator to a more… correct version. Then I want you to ask me to tell you everything I know about [Human]s.]”

“…You’ve fucked with our translators. Do you realize wh-”

“[It is not making them in error, [Mateo]. Simply, the translators omit certain key phrases that might give you more context for your debate tomorrow.]”

“….fine. Fuck it.” Senator Mateus Carvalho Araujo dropped his head on his desk with a hollow-sounding thunk. “Just do it.”

“[Already done.]” Ti’Shek’qc said, the little device in her hand giving out a happy beep. “[Though I suggest not updating everyone’s communication device – it would cause problems. You and the rest of your team, however, I think would be appropriate.]”

“My team? Right, right. Alright.” Mateo said, rubbing his ear to get the ringing to stop. “So tell me about Humanity.”

And Ti’Shek’qc did, using only the textbook definitions, the commonly-known history, and the OIH-approved culture artifacts that were provided. And as she did these innocent things, Mateo stared at her, his jaw slack. He said nothing, only his face betraying a look of more and more confusion, shock, and disbelief. Slowly he reached down and opened a bottom drawer to his desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch – 25 year, for what it’s worth – and uncorked it.

He drank the whole thing without a glass in sight.

Twitter
Categories
They are Smol Stories

They are Smol: Chapter 14

What Happen in last episode:

  • The Truth(tm) came out
  • Caroline can aggressively nap
  • Admiral Var’Shrak can’t move or else he’ll wake her up and then his day will be ruined

This episode:

  • We compare notes
  • The adults need an adult
  • I am the senate

————————————————————————————————————

The problem with transporting [Human]s are, fundamentally, that they’re somewhat fragile. This means as a host species you’ve got to figure out ways of transporting a [Human] from point A to point B with minimal – and preferably no damage whatsoever.

Having them move under their own power is absolutely option . A significant amount of stations have begun adopting the moving [sidewalk] method over their longer stretches of corridor, and as long as there’s enough notification signage, forewarning, installed railing, grip-modified flooring and it isn’t moving too fast, they’ve been met with great success.

However, the safety-nets at the end of each platform were a bit too much, most non-Karnakian species agreed.

When [Humans] are unable to move under their own power (or are just too slow), option is to have a [Human]-created mobility device installed or manufactured on station/ship. This could be anything from a wheel-chair, which is a very sturdy seat on wheels, to “roller blades”, which are a very concerning type of boot, to [golf]-carts – which not only are safer, but even come with added carrying capacity!

Due to the inherently physically unstable nature of [Humans], wheeled hoverboards are, of course, universally banned.

Option is usually almost completely filled with emergency options, or options of last-resort; a [Human]-calibrated escape pod, for instance, a heavily-modified shuttlecraft or empty construction drone will do in a pinch. Although a [Human] can definitely use one, it’s…it’s going to be difficult for everyone involved, there will be injuries and there willbe paperwork afterwards.

So imagine everyone’s surprise, then, when Option was unanimously selected by [Bill]’s denmate-ball: They would have to carry him to safety. As a unit [Bill]’s denmates stood up, making sure not to crush, twist, or rend their smaller crewmate.

“[Holy shit please let me out I didn’-]”

Arms bent at weird angles, wrists twisted in odd configurations, claws sheathed, about a half-dozen paws began to pat [Bill] on whatever body part was in reach. He squirmed in surprise for a few moments before staying still.

The patting stopped, and the murderball moved forward.

“[…C-can you at least tell me where we’re going?! Look, It’s not – the [memes] aren’t-]”

The patting resumed. [Bill] stopped complaining, and after a few more minutes of being gently batted around the ball stopped petting him, picked itself up and began shuffling out of the hangar. [Bill] watched with growing curiosity as they moved, slowly, from hallway to hallway until he eventually recognized his off-duty wing.

The ball never stopped being a ‘ball’; not when it walked through the dormitory halls, not when it finally found [Bill]’s room, and – somehow – not even when it squeezed through a doorway far too small for it’s bulk. The only time the ball started to lose cohesion was ontop of [Bill]’s bed, and even then, it more or less just formed a lump.

A comfortable, fluffy lump.

The reason why was apparent to any Dorarizin there – Sgt. Rauleh-of-Ngraren was following the murderball the entire time, growling soft responses to questions only she could hear. Although the danger of the station rending the [Human] limb-from-limb had since passed, she was still a female, and [Bill] was still mostly scentless. The murderball agreed: it was better safe than sorry.

“[…are – are we done now? I – I’m only feeling one pat, so I’m assuming that’s a yes.]” [Bill], the juicy center of the murderball said. “[Look-]”

“{We’re – you’re not in trouble, [Bill]. We just…noticed some irregularities, and, ah.}” Rauleh mouthed a few words silently, listening to silent instructions. “{…want to understand the significant cultural and social applications of [Human] edited-}”

“[Hi Rauleh’s handler~]” [Bill] cooed playfully.

Rauleh’s face soured a bit before her ears flicked back in irritation. “{T’ch. Fine. I’ll claw directly at yo-}”

The murderball tensed up, and only after a few minutes of patting did Rauleh continue. “{Sorry… it’s a phrase. I’ll be direct? Direct with you. A [Jornissian] ship discovered [memes] from their resident [Human]-}”

“[Hah! I’m not gonna be court marshaled~]”

“{So it’s a military secret? Cultural?}”

“[What? No. It’s…look, whoever that is I really appreciate the enthusiasm but that’s an erogenous zone-]”

There was a slight pause, and a shift in the lump.

“[…I didn’t say stop.]”

There was another longer pause, and then a second reluctant shift in the lump.

“[So… as I was saying…]” [Bill] murmured, “[If someone can get me the remote to my terminal?]”

Over the course of the next few hours, [Bill], The murderball, Rauleh-of-Ngraren and Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr all learned a little bit more about themselves, and the universe at large.



There was an orange pip in his eye.

Without moving a single muscle – really, just using his thoughts, Admiral Var’Shrak parsed exactly who was calling him, hesitated for only a moment, and then answered the call. On the screen in the lounge a graying Dorarizin sprung to life, and before he realized the call went through Var’Shrak muted the audio and routed it to his implant.

“[Admiral Var’Shrak. May your coils never slip.]” Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr said, an odd emotion plastered on his face. “[I have…news.]”

“<As do I.>” Var’Shrak subvocalized, barely forming an audible whisper. “<They’re scared of us.>”

The Dorarizin clicked his teeth. “[That’s the long and short of it, yes. It reminds me of pups barking at the dark – false bravado and all that. It can be overcome, apparently, with training and support.]”

“<But do we want to put them in that position? Forever? Always being afraid – is that any way to live?>”

“[Well that’s a very dark thought. Speaking of, why are the lights dimmed? I hope I didn’t wake you-]”

“<Our, ah. [Human], [Caroline], got so angry she had to take a nap.>” Var’Shrak said, matter-of-factly.

He really did enjoy the range of emotions that played across the Dorarizin’s face: surprise, disbelief, a fleeting explosion of uncontrollable glee before a quick half-assed tamp-down back to stoic professionalism. “[I uh. I see. I did not know their species… did that.]”

“<It seems today is a day of learning for us all.>”

There was a short pause, before the Dorarizin leaned in conspiratorially. “[You…did record it, right?]”

“<By Sotek yes I did. And maybe.>” Var’Shrak replied, staying perfectly still.

“[Hmph. Well, this answers your question from earlier. No. We’re not going to abandon them; we can’t. Eventually they’ll come after us, anyway.]”

“<It’s not right.>”

“[It’s unprecedented, yes.]”

“<It’s not right to live in fear.>”

“[No… but. Well. I think this will fade with time – or with, uh. Proper intervention.]”

There was a pregnant pause, and [Caroline] took this time to roll over, murmuring a nonsensical complaint.

“[Oh, oh! She’s-]”

“<No notice, just dropped in.>”

“[How long-]”

“<About 6 of her hours. I think we’re almost through an entire night cycle.>”

“[Hah. I both do and don’t envy you.]”

There was another still pause as the two aliens looked down at the sleeping [Human]. “<You’re going to go to the Senate with this, aren’t you?>” Var’Shrak finally said, looking up at his counterpart. The Dorarizin sighed and agreed. “[This is something that the Senate could use as leverage to-]”

“<LEV->” Var’Shrak roared, but quickly remembered himself, going from a yell to a frantic whisper. “<Leverage?! What do they have that we would – Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr what in the frozen Hell->”

“[Calm yourself, friend. I simply wish to help them-]”

“<And putting their scales against the mountain does this how?>”

“[The [Humans] have a phrase that I like, if you understand the context. I think it’s very apt to use it here.]”

“<That phrase being?>”

“[Baptism by Fire].”

Var’Shrak didn’t move, and didn’t blink. His face soured as Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr began to explain his idea, and with bitter thoughts an inevitable realization hit him: He was right.

Zgren was right, and damn each and every one of his scales, Var’Shrak was going to support him.



For all that’s been said about it, both good and bad, nobody could disagree that the Galactic Senate held the largest and most complete stranglehold of power in the Galaxy.

This was achieved by ancient and dark rites such as trade negotiations, byzantine paperwork, proper and equal representation of species, a very good marketing team and the very small fact that the largest central governments of each species were all members of the Senate and would happily curbstomp any little upstart who dared disturb the status quo.

Representation in the Senate was surprisingly streamlined and straightforward. Each species had their own ways of electing a Senator, and each species had their own amounts of Senators, but each species also had only one vote. You could be elected, ordained, voluntold – however you got there, you ended up in the melting pot, the nexus of interstellar commerce, culture and might. Whatever you brought to the table would be incorporated into the team you were put on, and through the power of bureaucracy your contributions would end up as nameless attributions to part of a trade deal that outlawed the Zerblum, but only if you didn’t claim that the insect was part of a religious ritual, and only around certain non-yellow stars. As long as a simple majority (2/3 before [Humanity], now 3/4) voted in favor of your particular proposal it was put into law and enacted. Repealing worked exactly the same way, and revisions – well.

That just took forever.

The average citizen rarely interacted with the Senate; it was a nebulous thing that did stuff and then somehow your life was impacted. As long as the trade lanes stayed open, war stayed on the fringes as a distant memory and there was enough space to grow, people were content.

So given the Senate’s size and complexity it was a minor miracle that Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr was able to compile and submit a joint report to the Senate in only 3 months. The delay was unavoidable; although both Admiral Var’Shrak and Zgren-Ngraren-of-Arzerghr were in very high positions and normally could get a Senator’s ear, they had to deal with federal and imperial inquisitions respectively, safety checks and inspections(both species-specific and senate-ordained), a human-Dorarizin den request (which raised a few eyebrows) and creating a new safety course for Jorissians on ‘how not to be suplexed repeatedly by a [Human]: a 12 step guide.’ (which raised even more eyebrows).

The Report, as it would come to be known, was a stand-alone binder filled with files, documentation, stamped paperwork, audio and visual interviews and various biometric data, eventually made its way to three species, and more specifically, to their respective Directors of [Human] Interaction. As each package was opened up, a simple plea unfolded; it both gave context to what the Senators would soon learn, but it also planted a small seed. A seed that, if the assembled races worked together, would give them something that they’ve been craving for years.

IF they played their cards right, and IF the [Humans] would react as their data models showed, and IF the idea could be positioned properly, then maybe, for the first time as allies, the Galactic community would be allowed to walk unfettered on the Earth.

Twitter
Categories
They are Smol Stories

They are Smol: Chapter 13

Last Chapter:

  • The humans are safe! All hail Dorarizin safety training!

This Chapter:

  • It’s In-tea-rrogation time!
    • I’m not sorry

————————————————————————————————————

He had faced multiple live-fire engagements in his younger days, even a few ‘hot drops’. He pulled his friends from the line of fire, made hard decisions…had some friends not come home – both from a rebel’s hand, or from his own orders.

He had moved through the ranks. Led his people through both victory and defeat. Taken the blame and the glory. Through mentorship, trial, luck, error and sheer determination he had become a leader worthy of commanding the lives of 50,000 fellow shipmen, not including the associated marines and ground personnel that were under his leadership.

In all of this, he had projected a stoic, calculating demeanor. In every trial, in every scenario where everything is on fire and the blood is on his hands, he did his damndest to at least seem like he knew what he was doing. The facade he projected – the mask he wore – was as much a part of his rank as the gems clamped onto his hood.

However, today, Admiral Var’Shrak clenched his jaw for the umpteenth time and willed himself not to cry.

“<Caroline.>” He said, as even as possible. “<Please. Just a little, ok?>”

From the pile of upturned and requisitioned perch-padding came a soft whimper. Only by the grace of his anatomy could he see into the utter darkness of the pillow-cave, staring directly into the wet, red eyes of the resident [Human].

She was clutching a blanket tightly to her torso, wringing the fabric in her chapped, red hands.

Admiral Var’Shrak gently nudged the plate of snacks towards the blanket-cave, causing [Caroline] to shrink back slightly.

“<It’s ok, it’s ok – it’s just some tea-cakes. It’s sweet, see?>” He picks up one of the small disks, and making a show of breaking it in half he eats it, slowly. “<See? It’s good!>”

Painfully slow to him, but lightning-fast for the [Human] she flung her hand out and gripped a handful of cookies, pulling them back into the safety of her cave. Var’Shrak lowered himself closer to the ground, doing his best to seem small and unimposing – and to get a slightly better view of the [Human]. She sniffed at the wafer hesitantly, before looking at Var’Shrak and taking a bite.

The click of her teeth on the cookie caused both of them to flinch.

“<I uh… I’m sorry. I-I can get the chefs to make a different batch, one that’s… softer.>” He said, losing heart halfway through his suggestion as [Caroline] worked her mouth slightly, scattering the wafers inside her cave. He was met with a noncommital murmur – at least the crying had well and truly stopped, but whether that was due to [Caroline] realizing that she was truly in no danger or that she had exhausted herself, Var’Shrak couldn’t say. Deliberately slowly he reached for a second tray, placing before the cushion-cave a set of drinks; various teas, water, and [soda]-analogues. Thinking beforehand this time he opened all their pouches, leaning back to give [Caroline] some space.

She reached for one of the flavored teas, seeming to pick one out at random. Slowly she pulled the oversized pouch into her cave, taking a tentative sip from the rim.

Another happy universal constant: At some point in every species’ infancy some genius got the idea to take a bunch of plants, boil them an take a swig. Sometimes it worked and a new beverage was discovered! Sometimes it didn’t work and a new poison was discovered – which could be a success, depending on what you were going for. Regardless, warm tea and comfy blankets seemed to comfort the small [Human], and her soft complaints all but stopped.

They stayed like that for a few minutes; [Caroline] taking a sip of ‘tea’, Var’Shrak watching her with a neutral, if worried expression.

“<[Caroline]?>” Var’Shrak said softly, causing her to jump. “<[Caroline], You’re not in any trouble. I just want to talk with you, ok? Can we talk?>”

[Caroline] gave what his crash-course in [Human] body language told him was a ‘nod’ of affirmation, and Var’Shrak relaxed slightly.

“<Ok. Can you please tell me what a [meme] is?>”

[Caroline] giggled at that – which was good! – and pursed her lips, rolling her shoulders slightly. “[It’s…it’s like a joke. It’s a visual cultural joke, but it can also be musical? I guess?]”

“<Alright. Were your people producing [meme]s before first contact?>”

“[I uh. I mean, yeah. Memes really took off when the internet became ubiquitous, but, hell. There could have been ancient memes lost to time for all we know. We just have a better record of it, because yanno – once it’s on the network it’s out there forever.]”

Admiral Var’Shrak nodded – mimicking the alien gesture of his guest – and rested on his coils. “<Well. The Senate->” Var’Shrak flinched as he saw [Caroline] flinch, and quickly finished his thought, “<-won’t stop [Humans] from making [meme]s, especially if it’s part of your culture from pre-contact. This just seems to be a cultural artifact that our [Anthropologists] didn’t recognize, which means it’s our fault if anything.>”

Admiral Var’Shrak was many things, and smooth was in fact, one of them. He waited a few seconds, and with a sigh (and a deep drought of the cooling tea) [Caroline] took the lure.

“[It’s not… we hid it from you on purpose. It’s not your fault.]”

“<Why?>”

[Caroline] scrunched her nose and looked incredulously at Var’Shrak – for his part, he just waited, neutral mask forced upon his face.

“[Really?]”

Var’Shrak repeated the alien ‘nodding’ gesture. “<Really. Again, you and [Humanity] in general are not in any trouble – I just want to learn, is all.>”

[Caroline] looked into her bag of tea and gently set it down between her legs, mumbling something too soft for even Var’Shrak to hear, her voice broken only by a small yawn.

“<Sorry? Could you please repeat that?>”

“[We’re scared.]” She replied, no louder than before – but somehow, the weight of those words were deafening as they slammed against him. Admiral Var’Shrak recoiled slowly in dumb shock; a thousand questions roiled through his mind, each one darker than the last.

“<Has any interstellar faction threatened you, your species or your planet?>”

“[Wh- oh! Oh, no! I uh. We, [Humans], are scared of you. Of all of you. Of the entire Senate.]”

Silence.

“<Wh->” Var’Shrak cleared his throat, resting his hands in his lap. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before responding as slowly and purposefully as possible. “<Why are you afraid of us?>”

“[Because – because just look at you all!]” A tiny hand flung out of the safety of the cave in his direction, waving about frantically. “[You’re big and strong and powerful and technologically advanced and weird and just – just, you could annihilate us without even feeling it! Not just in terms of a civilization-wide fight, I mean just… if you, if you got angry at me and… I’m not that quick…]”

Var’Shrak swallowed, hard, as the implications made themselves known. “<I…is every [Human] afraid of us?>”

“[I mean – no, but. Ugh.]” [Caroline] reached forward and aggressively took a drink of her tea, setting it back down infront of her. “[It’s a spectrum. Some think you’re here to enslave us, most of us are positive towards you – curing every disease, providing infinite power, unfucking our planet’s biosphere and giving us a post-scarcity society will win you all the [Brownie] points. A… not insignificant number are even ah, attracted to you. I mean, not you personally – but I’m sure you’re a, uh, good looking [Jornissian] and I’m not saying that a [Human] wouldn’t be intere-]”

[Caroline] stopped her rambling to take a drink as Var’Shrak’s mind shifted an entirely different set of gears, popped the clutch and then stalled out.

“[It’s um. You’ve… always had other species to talk to. I mean, in your cultural memory. We haven’t.]”

“<But shouldn’t that be a cause of joy?>” he ventured, grasping at straws.

“[It is – trust me – it is. But, it’s also, uh. There’s no really easy way to put this – you’re alien.]”

Var’Shrak blinked and clicked his tail against the decking, narrowing his eyes. “<Did… are you saying [Humans] haven’t fully realized we’re not their species?>”

“[Oh, no no. Just…well, ok. Imagine you’re me for a second. You’re used to the sound of feet on the floor, of [Human] mannerisms your entire life, of slang and body language and food and music and sights and smells. Not only that, but also proportions; the doors are just so high, the beds are just so arranged, the eating utensils look like they do, the toilets…]”

“<I think I’m beginning to understand.>”

“[Mmm. Not only are you used to this, but your entire species for it’s entire history is used to things being just so. To be out of that environment, and in one that’s – it’s alien. So sometimes, well. This is why we have to consume Home media – it gives us some normalcy, or so the [psychoanalysts] say.]” [Caroline] sighs, stretching.

“<And memes about us are normal?>”

“[W-well, no. That’s… more for when we’re ah, freaking out about being alone – about being the only [Human], I mean. It kinda…makes you cute to us? They’re not spiteful memes, just playful ones to make you not so, uh. Deadly.]”

“<I see. This would explain the confusion…>”

“[I just-]” [Caroline] yawned, her whole body shuddering. “[I just don’t know how the terminal screwed up… or why that elicited a full, uh. Special Operations team? To break into my room and kidnap me?]” she ended on a question, looking at Var’Shrak curiously.

“<Ah, then it’s my turn to be honest.>” Var’Shrak smiled, stretching up a little straighter. “<Some enterprising young deckhands – a Mr.Ssharnak and a Ms.Ashhs’skk – apparently found a way to install a physical override onto your terminal, probably when you were out.>”

The pillow cave became deathly still.

“<So, they apparently streamed your terminal to their own, and it became a bit of a sensation on the ship. When->”

The pillow cave exploded, circular perch-covers flung to the far ends of the room. Standing before him, bleary-eyed, wet spot on her crotch and arms raised in a triumph of rage, [Caroline] let out a furious roar.

“[THOSE SLITHERY LITTLE FUCKS BROKE INTO MY ROOM?! I’LL KILL THEM!]”

Var’Shrak leaned slightly to the right, avoiding a particularly high-velocity pillow. “<I assure you, [Caroline], both of those deckhands are on disciplinary leave->” ‘but after what they’ve put me through’, thought Var’Shrak, ‘I’ll damn well make sure they’re cleaning comet trails by hand for the rest of their careers.’

“[I’m gonna- I’m gonna. Just. NNNGH. Why am I not angrier?!]” [Caroline] suddenly said as another tremendous yawn wracked her body. “[What was… what was that tea?]”

“<Gres’sken-leaf and petal. It is very safe for [Human] consumption…>” Var’Shrak trailed off as he accessed his internal implant, pulling up information on the plant. “<The tea is very high in iron, potassium, melatonin, keratin->”

“[Mmf. Melatonin? That – that makes us sleep. Sleepy.]” [Caroline] groused, rubbing her face a bit too vigorously.

“<Oh.>” Var’Shrak said softly.

[Caroline] fumed for a second before glaring at Var’Shrak. She pointed at him accusingly with a single, drooping finger. “[I am gonna take a nap and then I am going to be angry at them again, ok?]”

“<Okay.>” Var’Shrak said, desperately trying to hide his smile. “<Would you like me to->”

“[N. Noh. This is a-]” [Caroline] inhaled sharply, but powered through it. “[-an inconvenience to me, so I’m gonna return the favor. Loosen up.]”

“<Excuse me?>” Admiral Var’Shrak said, tilting his head as [Caroline] brazenly stepped forward. Without so much as an explanation, invite, or indication she full-body fell on the [Jornissian], curling up into a ball within his coils.

“<I… what.>”

“[Remind me to be angry when I wake up.]” [Caroline] murmured, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to her.

“<Hah. So whatever happened to being afraid of us?>” Var’Shrak mused. But he did so to himself, as [Caroline]’s only response was soft, shallow breathing.

After only five minutes, Var’Shrak was unable to hide his smile.

Twitter