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They are Smol: Chapter 16 – Arc 1 End

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*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

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Stories They are Smol

They are Smol: Chapter 15

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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.

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They are Smol: Chapter 14

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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.

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They are Smol: Chapter 13

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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.

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Stories They are Smol

They are Smol: Chapter 12

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So what happen since last time? Simple:

  • Greweh protected the human
    • He protected him so good that other Dorarizin couldn’t believe it and they had to come and check
      • Bill is having a great time – those are screams of joy don’t listen to anyone telling you otherwise
  • Grashak is still a good doggo
  • Everyone gets free showers
    • Rauleh is in trouble for giving away free showers and absolutely nothing else
  • Rezfran is too old for this shit
    • He’s gonna embargo humans after this, just you wait. Right after this baby-swimming youtube video finishes, he’s gonna do it. Any minute now. You’ll see.

What happen this time?

  • lol iunno I write this shit with no prewriting

————————————————————————————————————

The deck was finally silent. Well. Mostly silent.

This, in and of itself, was a massive achievement. It took another 5 minutes of dexterous leaping, strategic feints, the impromptu use of environmental hazards/pocket moonsand and one very lucky toss with the emergency blanket to pull out the last power tab of Bill’s suit. Over the tirade of the Head Administrator (who was doing nothing to help morale) Bill’s denmates were able to carve him out of the suit with their bare teeth and claws and form a protective barrier between him and the rest of the crew, and really, the world. Everything finally worked out in the end.

They just had to ignore all the screaming.

You have to understand, the Dorarizin were there to protect Bill, but he had long checked out into “fight or flight” mode – and before you judge, you tell me how you’d react to innumerable claws and three rows of teeth gnawing into your cockpit as the power flickers out.

Yeah, I thought so.

So, like I was saying, the deck was mostly silent, save for Sgt. Rauleh-of-Nragren. She wasn’t delivering so much a chewing-out as it was just a 5 minute long wordless scream of exasperation. At least, that’s what the cuddle-pile-formerly-known-as-Bill thought it sounded like. In between the mass of fur and arms and … claws and teeth he could see Rauleh-of-Nragren alternate between yelling something at the crew, making desperate swipes at Grapes, and then seemingly bark at nothing at all. As Bill’s heart rate slowly went from “amphetamine addict on caffeine” to “uphill kenyan footrace” he noticed how chastised the crew looked, and how as one they flinched when a particularly loud scream-click would reverberate off of the metal walls. Bill sighed internally. Turns out, guilt is one of the few things more powerful than fear. Squirming in the fluffy-warm safety-hug, Bill was finally able to pop his head out under what seemed like an arm and someone else’s cheek.

“Ffhey! Vhloock, Hi’me fhinmeh. Breallrehy!” he protested, his cheeks smushed against his jaw by the weight of his denmates, slurring his speech.

Sgt. Rauleh paused in her tirade to stare at Bill for a few moments, before waving at him with a free hand and continuing her rant.

“Hime fhan.”

“?Rewr-‘!’ngrah SRESH N”GRKKLER!?” Rauleh yelled, rounding on the rest of the crew. “?N’GRak! RESMN RGREF WE’RRGLREZXK.?”

“Hime fhan tho.”

“?R’EZRE. ‘F”RAGN.?”

“S’chfhain. Rhellheh. Yhewswher hhthe hwonsh fweekin houht.”

Rauleh paused, her ears twitching in fury, before letting out a long, low, guttural clicking-growl, angrily falling on her haunches.

“Athideths hapeh.”

Rauleh shared a look with Bill that caused his murderballtm to tense up slightly, but he beamed confidence.

“Vuh ih hokai. Thhih ih hobw bwe lurrh!”

Rauleh, for her part, just whined.



Sgt. Rauleh-of-Ngraren was furious enough to scent shadows.

There were at least 87,000 other mining stations that had put in a request for a [human] in the year she sent in her requisition, and she knew that it was only her constant petitioning (and a little kindness from her father) that she was able to secure a single position out of an entire pool of 500 [human] applicants.

What her father could not help with was the mandatory 2-year gamut of sensor re-calibration, physical remodeling, general sapience training and advanced sapience training, stocking specialized food and medicine (and the subsequent training her medical and kitchen staff had to go through), additional specialized safety equipment, additional recreation and training equipment, escape pods, schedule changes, random Imperial inspections, customized gear, customized sanitation booths (because [humans] apparently need water in pretty much everything they do) and the assorted infighting over who gets to do what with the [human] and when. At any point their entire station could be flunked, and with that K%’-grade there would be no way her father could comb a few tails and get her a [human]. Somehow, some way, they passed. They passed after two years of hell, and now it could all be for nothing-

“{-BECAUSE NOBODY HERE FOLLOWED PROPER PROCEDURE. BY THE FIRST PACK, DO YOU WANT TO BE THE ONES TO KILL A [HUMAN] FIRST? DO YOU DESIRE TO TASTE HIS BLOOD THAT BADLY?}” She rounded on her crew, who flinched back.

“{AND NOW – NOW, BECAUSE OF THIS COMBINED IDIOCY, BECAUSE EVERYONE ABANDONED THEIR POSTS, WE HAVE DAMAGED A CONSTRUCTION DRONE, THE ENTIRE FUCKING HANGAR, PUT OURSELVES HALF A YEAR BEHIND SCHEDULE AND ENDANGERED [BILL]’S LIFE! MULTIPLE TIMES – IN ONE DAY!}”

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the pile of denmates shift a little, and between two males a small, flat, furless face popped out. It was slightly redder than usual, and kinda smushed – but it was practically determined to give it’s two cents.

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) Hey! Look, I’m fine. Really!]”

Rauleh blinked at [Bill], who squirmed just a bit – apparently he got his head stuck in the pile. She exasperatedly flung her arms out in his direction. “{-AND HE IS WELL WITHIN HIS RIGHT TO BE FURIOUS AT US, BUT HE’S TOO NICE TO SAY ANYTHING-}”

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) I’m fine.]”

“{AND, AND HE’S TRYING TO REASSURE US.}” She spun around, growling at the rest of her crew. “{US, WHO COULD HAVE ENDED HIS LIFE IN A FLURRY OF STUPIDITY.}”

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) I’m fine though.]”

Rauleh sighed, angrily. “{HE’S TOO INNOCENT TO UNDERSTAND. TOO PURE.}”

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) It’s fine, really. You’re the ones freaking out.]”

Rauleh paused, her ears twitching in fury, before letting out a long, low, guttural clicking-growl, angrily falling on her haunches.

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) Accidents happen.]”

Rauleh glared at [Bill], trying to will into her gaze that although accidents do happen, they don’t happen near her, on her ship, under her watch.

[Bill], for his part, beamed back confidence.

“[(error: slurred speech. Re-translating with 99.98% estimated accuracy) But it’s ok. This is how we learn!]”

Rauleh, for her part, just let out an exasperated whine.

There was a pause and a long sigh, as everyone’s commbeads kicked back on. “{Well.}” Said the voice of Zgren-Nragren-of-Arzerghr, causing everyone to flinch – and [Bill] to protest slightly – “{Here I was about to deliver the dressing-down of a career, but I see Rauleh did it well enough for me.}”

“{Sector-General, I take full resp-}”

“{Rauleh-of-Ngraren, please do not interrupt me.}”

There was another pause and [Bill] piped back up, but nobody paid attention.

“{I can’t… I can’t not document this. My workstation has mandatory audit logs, so even if I chose not to report this – which for the record, I’m not doing – it could still show up under a random review. To my knowledge, no other [Human] has been put in such danger within our Empire’s borders.}”

Nobody moved, as they waited for the axe to drop.

“{….however, after reviewing security footage and listening the, ah, condemned, I could theoretically argue before an inquisitor that Grewreh-of-Azrehs followed safety procedure, that he was not trained for a [Human]’s specific…needs, and that technically the [Human] was not hurt. I could also theoretically argue, due to a [Human]’s innate….}” there was a sigh, and the next word came out thick and dripping with exhaustion “{[Human]-ness, that the crew’s concern was legitimate, albeit an overreaction.}”

Hope was kindled.

“{It also sounds like the [Human] won’t want to press charges, or request a transfer – though, that ultimately is up to him. Regardless, this was a scenario that was not covered in training, and as such I’ll petition to have all [Human]-Dorarizin training materials updated. It was also an oversight not to have their limitations made common knowledge, so, although everyone here will still have the joy of inquisitorial scrutiny I see no reason to-}”

As one the entire crew cheered at the stay of execution – if a Sector-General was going to hunt for them, then they wouldn’t be demoted, they wouldn’t be exiled, and they wouldn’t lose their [Human]! The crew devolved into happy yips and barks of conversation, in that overly-excited way that only occurs once disaster has been averted. Zgren-Nragren-of-Arzerghr smiled in his workstation, and turned off his general override.

Rauleh’s commbead, however, never turned off.

“{Daugher of mine.}”

“{Yes, papa?}”

“{Hm! Offering me a sweet-meat?}”

“{….Thank you.}” She sub-vocalized, emotion thick in her voice.

“{…….Daughter. I’m not going to – I can’t-}”

“{I know.}”

“{I’ll stretch the truth as far as I can, but I’m not going to break it. You’ll still have Imperial Inquisitors crawling all over you and everyone there, and that’s not counting the Interstellar Safety and Standards commission that will undoubtedly be launched.}”

“{I know.}” Rauleh sighed as she watched her crew busy themselves, cleaning up and returning to their proper stations. “{But still. Thank you.}”

“{….This is why I hate [Humans]}“ Nragren chuckled, humming to himself. “{Such little squishy beings of chaos and disorder.}”

“{I think you’re just limping about because no [Human] wants to learn about interstellar paperwork.}”

“{Hm! Petulant child – I’ll pull your claws out.}”

There was a small moment of silence, and idly Rauleh watched one of [Bill]’s packmates walk back into the hangar, holding a small box.

“{Well. Translators seem to have been made, thankfully. I’m going to order a half-dozen spare sets…}”

“{Speaking of translation, I need to talk to you.}”

Rauleh’s ears perked up. “{That’s right! In all this commotion, I forgot – what exactly did you call me for, Papa?}”

Zgren-Nragren-of-Arzerghr inhaled deeply and began to explain.



“<I want hazard pay.>”

KEYRING sighed and looked at SPOTTER – well, at the emotional-wreck-formerly-known-as-SPOTTER. The extraction of SISTER was a resounding success (on paper), and the exfiltration of the Celestial Scale went off without a hitch. For the first time in anyone’s memory, the mutiny alarm was a false alarm – all that the Jornissian special forces had managed to do was change out the crew and power down a ship in record time.

“<No.>”

“<So do you want to hold her?>”

“<. . . .>”

The problem was, well, SISTER. Once the room was cleared and SISTER was in custody, the assumption was that the [Human] would simply be confused – scared, possibly angry – but nothing that an explanation and cooperation wouldn’t overcome. The team was expecting reactions ranging from fear to hiding or even fighting back; people in panic situations did not think clearly.

However, once SISTER was in custody she acted like she was about to die. After squirming in SPOTTER’s grip SISTER went totally limp and began to cry.

That, in and of itself, was terrible. But then she began to beg and plead. The things she was expecting, and the things she was saying….

….after 5 minutes, everyone but SPOTTER had muted their commbeads to her cries. Unfortunately, this only stopped the real-time translation.

“<KEYRING, she sounds like a wounded hatchling->”

“<Suck it up, soldier.>”

So after an additional 10 minutes, the squad had figured out how to filter SISTER’s cries completely from their helmet’s audio.

“<Oh, high talk from you GRANITE. Go ahead, look at her again. Watch her flinch.>”

GRANITE, a Jornissian who had been in numerous secret raids against pirates, butchered no less than 300 slavers, who had stared into the abyss between the stars and refused to blink, turned his head away.

“<That’s what I thought. I want hazard pay.>”

“<SPOTTER->”

“<No. No. You listen. Just do it, right now, cause I have to, because I’m holding her, and I have to make sure she doesn’t get injured. Do it. I dare you.>”

“<Oh, fine.>” KEYRING growled, flicking on some indicators within his suit. “<She has to have calmed down a little bit by no->”

“[Ah-hand I never got to travel when I was young and I just, I just wanted to have a l-little fun, just a little fun before I died, I didn’t want to die, I don’t want to die like this, I wanted more time, I’m sorry – I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to, I’ll do anything, please, I- my mom only has me left, I’m sorry, I’m so sor-]”

KEYRING tensed his hood and quickly muted SISTER again.

“<….Hazard pay.>”

“<I’ll put in a request->”

SPOTTER looked down at SISTER, seeing her puffy face, red eyes and distant, pleading gaze. Her hands were going through a picking motion, nonsensically, never stopping – some sort of nervous tic. Even though she was in his coils, and the transport ship was well within her comfort range, SISTER shivered. She shivered, and never stopped shaking.

“<You’re Harsak-damned right you will.>”



Admiral Var’Shrak sang softly to himself. It was one of the many, many skills he had picked up over the course of his lifetime in the interstellar navy – whenever a deckhand had some menial bullshit to do, or a crewmate was being “unjustly punished” for dereliction of duty, you could bet there would be one of countless songs being sung to pass the time. He was, of course, not singing because he was about to do something menial, or something he dreaded; he was singing to himself because he was nervous.

Sure, he was around when [Human]s were discovered, and yes, he had reviewed their media – and like most of his race, he found them utterly adorable. Their humor was wrong, their music was beautiful, their art and science both advanced and yet very primitive. Of course, there was the initial rush of applications to serve with them, and of course there was a flurry of Senate rulings and restrictions that immediately passed unanimously. He had friends and colleagues who had put in some favors to have [Human]s aboard their vessels, but to do so they had to give up their military commission; a sacrifice that he wasn’t ready to make until he was prepared to retire in general, and at that point he may as well attempt to get a teaching gig instead.

However, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to meet one. Quite the opposite, in fact – he was going to make sure to record every interaction with this [Caroline], and if possible, mayhaps take his time in returning her to the Celestial Scale. From her file she seemed, well. Cute, for one, eager – but also somehow very soft. Var’Shrak didn’t really know how to explain it, but, if he was honest with himself he was giddy with excitement.

So, he was singing. Singing to pass the time until [Caroline] was checked out by medical and put in an officer’s lounge, time until she’s had something to eat and a little bit of time to relax. Singing while he determined what outfit to wear, as aesthetics of authority weren’t universal, and he’d rather not come across as overbearing and dominant when it was obvious the [Human] was of no threat and quite possibly having a terrible time.

His implant gave him a wordless indicator; [Caroline] had been deposited in a freshly cleaned and stocked lounge and was awaiting debriefing. With a smile and a smart snap of his tail against the ground, the Admiral left his quarters and made his way midship.

Offering only perfunctory salutes and acknowledgements of his crew, the Admiral’s mind began to wander, trying to form a narrative to his questioning. [Caroline] was in no trouble, no matter what happened – she was a civilian, and that’s where that line of thought began and ended. However, what did the edited media mean? Was this some cultural thing that the Jornissian cultural attaches had missed? Was it an honor, or an insult? Was [Caroline] alone responsible for the edit, or was it something more… institutional? Even if he could coil around who was responsible, were any laws even being broken? Then there was the mystery of THE CAPTAIN and how she played into all this….

Admiral Var’Shrak continued to muse right up to the door to Officer’s Lounge A-17. He would’ve mused a little further if it wasn’t for a haggard-looking, limp-scaled, utterly exhausted special forces soldier, coiled in his way. Off to the side, his superior officer was in mid-explanation of something…but that would wait.

“<Sharp Eyes to you, Soldier.>” Admiral Var’Shrak saluted, and was immediately incensed to see that the salute was not returned.

“<Sir.>” Began the dead-eyed soldier, who Var’Shrak’s implant identified as SPOTTER – nee Shresh’resk. “<I have only carried the [Human] for an hour and a half, but if anything happens to her, I will kill everyone on this capital ship and then myself.>”

His superior officers – both of them – visibly flinched at the very deadpan and very serious way he delivered that line, before slithering off just to the right and coiling up.

“<S-sir, I’m sorry, Shresh’resk is… well. He needs hazard pay.>”

The Admiral, tamping down his anger at the mutinous way he was addressed, glared at the Sergeant. “<You dare?>”

Wordlessly KEYRING tapped open the door, and the lights within kicked on. There was a cry – more like a wail – and [Caroline] darted under what appeared to be a blockade made out of foam perch pillows. His commbead was flooded with nonsensical half-pleading, crying, and promises to be good.

As the translator matrix began to work overtime and just exactly what she was saying finally hit him, Admiral Var’Shrak slumped forward, the excited energy he was projecting fully drained out of him. “Hopefully the Dorarizin are having a better go of it than I am” he thought, as he slowly made his way into the lounge.



“{So. [Bill]?}”

“[Ah uh, yeah? The ‘bead’s working now, yeah?]” [Bill] said, still smiling from his protective denmate-pile.

Rauleh smiled in return. “{Indeed it is. Hey, listen, I had a quick question for you.}”

“[Awww. Look, like I said accidents happen, and as long as I can keep blowing up moons I won’t tell anyone-]”

“{No no no – it’s not about that. And yes, you can still fire probes at the various celestial bodies that we orbit. It’s about something else.}”

“{If it’s about Greweh then I’ll have to say ‘it’s complicated’.}”

Rauleh snorted and rolled her shoulders. “{Tell me about it. No, no. I uh, I was wondering if you could help me out with a [Human]-specific question.}”

“[Ok! Ask away!]”

“{Do you have something called [Meme]-edited Dorarizin, and what movies are inside it?}”

A sharp, pungent rensecf scent spiked everyone’s nostrils, and [Bill] suddenly began to squirm violently, a panicked yell shuddering forth from his tiny frame.

“{Wait, [Bill]-}”

“{Woah! Hold on there little buddy-}”

“{Did he just pee on me?!}”

“{Don’t clench up you’ll hurt him-}”

“{Don’t let him go he’s got fear-madness-}”

So to answer Admiral Var’Shrak’s question: No. No they were not.

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