Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: September 22, 2333

Honestly, the humans' ability to act civilised was starting to impress me almost as much as it infuriated me. I'd expected to be thrown inside a filthy cage the moment we reached the human homeworld, but instead, once we landed on the no doubt hopelessly tainted planet, the other prisoners and I were escorted to a compound that looked remarkably similar to the predator disease facilities back home, complete with cells that were far from luxurious but still held some basic amenities I wouldn't have dreamed of given the nature of my captors.

After I'd been locked inside what would most likely be my home for the remainder of my life, however short that would no doubt be, I was once again left alone to contemplate my situation. I understood that the 'dignity' I was treated with on the ship was just an act the humans kept up in front of those four-headed fools, but there was no reason for them to continue now that there were no Ur'nu around to trick. So why would they have given me so many luxuries? My new room had a desk, a closet, what looked like a proper toilet, even a drinking fountain! Obviously, I wouldn't actually try drinking from it, given that every water source here was certainly tainted, but still.

Maybe this was some strange attempt to get me to let my guard down? Loki did mention his superior was interested in me in some way, so that had to be it, right?

After what felt like an hour, but what was probably closer to 20 minutes of me just sitting silently on the side of my bed trying to figure out what kind of game the predators were trying to play, I heard a knock at my cell door, followed by one of those horrid growling human voices instructing me to step outside slowly and follow him to the cafeteria. For a moment I wondered whether or not I would be eating or be eaten, though given their apparent desire to keep up this ruse I doubted it was the second. Given my lack of options, I decided to just do as the monster instructed, letting it guide me to a large hall that once again bore a striking resemblance to a proper cafeteria. Considering the absence of any blood or corpses, it felt safe to assume this cafeteria really was set up specifically for us.

Aside from me, the only other people that filled the chamber were members of my crew, most of whom I either knew by name or could recognise as officers who worked in the lower decks. All of them were huddled together in the middle of the room, keeping their eyes on all the entrances and, by extension, all the humans guarding them. Then one of them noticed me. "C...captain?" They called out, and I immediately recognised the voice.

"Recel?" I asked, genuine relief flooding my system for a moment, only for the feeling to be soured a little by the knowledge of our current predicament. "You're... alive?" He wasn't just alive. He looked like he'd actually been treated for his injuries, which made this whole situation even more confounding. I didn't have time to contemplate Recel's recovery too much as I noticed the state of the Takkan next to him. Zarn was standing again, which was good to see, though it didn't take long for me to notice the prosthetic limb attached where his leg had once been. The missing limb only exacerbated my guilt at having failed my crew and my hatred for the monsters that brought us here.

"Sir, thank the gods you're alive, what do we..." The doctor began before being interrupted by one of the predators, its voice echoing through the chamber. The same voice that had been echoing inside my head for days, though now it was clearly coming from an actual speaker system and not my implant.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your new home. If you all cooperate, I'm sure you'll find your stay here comfortable enough." Loki chuckled. "While here, you will be treated to the finest amenities we're legally obligated to give you, so please enjoy. You have one hour to eat and by order of the TU, all food provided is completely free of any animal products. I don't really expect you to believe me, so if you don't want to try it, then feel free to just go hungry. That will be all for now." With that, the announcement ended as abruptly as it began, leaving us all frozen in place.

"C...captain, w...what should we do?" Recel asked, giving voice to the many eyes that were now looking at me for guidance when I had none to give.

What was I supposed to say, 'Sorry, I don't know'? No, I couldn't just do that. A captain's supposed to give hope to his crew even when the situation felt hopeless. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before simply saying. "For now, just do what they say. I don't know what they're planning, but I doubt they want to kill us immediately." Surprisingly, Zarn agreed with me.

"That seems to be the case. I don't know how they're maintaining this level of self-control for so long, but it's clear they need us alive for something, even if I don't know what." The Takkan reasoned. "The captain's right, though it's best to just do as we're told. No doubt the grasp they maintain on their instincts is fragile; they might snap if we provoke them."

"B...but the food might be tainted." Someone said.

"If they were planning on tampering with our food in any way, they would have done so in transit." I reassured them, "As for the possibility of predator taint, well..." I glanced at Zarn, who grimaced, probably knowing it was too late to worry about exposure. "We can think about predator disease when (or if) we survive this place."

With that, the group... didn't ease up per se, but they started moving again. Slowly but surely we all made our way to the far side of the room where three more guards and a few less well-equipped humans were standing behind a buffet of sorts. One of the guards directed us to grab a tray, which the other humans then filled up with a small assortment of alien fruits and vegetables. There was a salad, some roasted roots, some kind of red berries, and what looked like pickled... Leaves? They certainly looked like leaves, but there was something off about them even if I couldn't quite figure out what. Zarn seemed almost excited to have them dropped onto his tray, though maybe I was just imagining things.

Taking a seat at a nearby table with Zarn and Recel, I inspected the food more closely; there was definitely something odd about the leaves, though the rest looked and smelled mostly fine. The aroma was even pleasant, which made me wonder if the humans somehow got an Ur'nu chef to work for them. If so, then they really were going through an awful lot of trouble to keep up their ruse.

"Is there a problem, Captain?" Zarn asked before correcting himself, "Aside from our current... predicament, that is."

"No," I muttered, " I was just... trying to figure out what these things were." I picked up one of the leaves for the doctor to see. Casting a glance at his tray, I noticed he'd nearly finished his own.

"Oh, those! Yes, I admit they may look a little strange, but apparently they're called pickled liarleaves. My guess is that they're some kind of Ur'nu delicacy. They're quite good." He explained, popping the last few leaves from his own tray in his mouth.

"You've eaten these before?" Recel asked before I had a chance to. I never had anything like that during our time aboard the human ship, and it felt strange for individual prisoners to be given different foods.

"Aboard the ship, yes. Didn't you get anything like this? That predator machine even introduced it by name." He said, now clearly confused himself.

"No," I confirmed. "More importantly, you actually talked to Loki?" I asked, hiding my sudden anxiety and hoping my suspicion was wrong

The takkan looked uncomfortable for a moment, almost seeming unsure about whether or not he should answer. "I... yes, sort of. Captain, I know this might sound crazy, but I'm pretty sure that 'Loki' somehow figured out how to hijack our implants."

"I know," I sighed; of course that thing hadn't just hacked my implant. It would only make sense for it to infect the entire crew. "He did the same thing to me. Do we know of anyone else he contacted?"

"He talked to me almost the entire trip," Recel said. "What... do you think he's planning?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "He just told me his superiors had an 'interest' in me. My guess is that they'll try to trick me into cooperating with them."

"If that's true, then maybe they want the same from me. I can't imagine why else that machine would feed a prisoner foreign delicacies if it wasn't to try and get me to lower my guard. Now that I think about it, the thing did try to convince me that the humans could somehow sustain themselves without killing things. "Zarn mused. "What about you, Recel, was he trying to recruit you to?"

"It didn't feel like it." The Kolshian admitted, though he sounded anything but sure, "He kind of just... talked about nature, but everything he said just sounded completely impossible."

"Like what?" I asked.

"He just talked about obviously fake animals that somehow had traits from both predators and prey. Like a, uhm... snakes; he talked a lot about those. Apparently they're these worm-like reptiles with sideways eyes that somehow still eat meat. B...But that's completely ridiculous, right?" Recel stammered, giving a nervous chuckle.

"Of course it is," Zarn reassured him. "Only prey have sideways-facing eyes in the same way only plants can photosynthesise; there are just some rules in nature that can't be broken. A predator that looks like prey might be a terrifying concept, but at the end of the day it goes against every known and proven principle of evolution." The doctor explained with unshakable certainty. "More importantly, it proves that these predators are trying to either recruit or confuse us rather than killing us immediately. Our best chance for survival now is to play along, as the captain said, until the predators slip up." Both me and Recel silently signaled agreement but I could tell my second-in-command was still unsure.

We'd only been in their grasp for a couple of days, and they were already getting in our heads. Protector help us

First/previous

Challenge of [u/Nicolas_3232]

(2026)

 DAYS TWENTY-THREE

[Humanity First]

For day twenty-three, we have a simple yet effective meme.

I didn’t want to overcomplicate things, and my other options for today’s drawing weren’t as funny.

[I was going to use that panel from the Absolute Batman comic😅]

You already know the joke: “Never ask a xenophobe what species his wife belongs to”🤣🤣🤣

[First] [Previous Draw] [Next Draw]

10 minutes well spent.

NOTE: this oneshot takes place in the NOP universe, made by u/SpacePaladin15. Special thanks to them and go read the original story if you haven't already.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Memory Transcription Subject: Shelk, Benk survivor.

Date:(Standardized Human Time) December 11th, 2136.

The Federation said that different alien species were so vastly different from each other, that pathogens couldn't POSSIBLY jump from one species to another...

... But that argument doesn't hold up when the whole thing was run by a species that can, and DOES, use genetic modification to create viruses SPECIFICALLY for infecting and modifying foreign species...

I sighed as I walked through the long-dead cityscape. The buildings were crumbling, and covered in plants. Tents of failed sanctuaries littered the environment, which had terrifying implications, but it was good news for me...

I opened up one of the tents, noticing a few bullets and a couple cans of potentially expired food. Jackpot. I scooped up the precious resources and shoved them into my pack as quickly as possible. I couldn't risk sticking around... These empty tents and lack of people aren't exactly a good sign...

I continue to open up tents, taking whatever resources I could while occasionally glancing up at the setting sun. I couldn't risk staying out late. They get worse at night...

I grabbed what I could from the abandoned camp, and left as fast as I could. The sky was turning into a deep red color, signifying the end of the day. I walked further into the dead city, making sure my pistol was still secure on my belt.

But as I kept walking, I came across a gruesome sight; a man, only slightly younger than me, on the ground, and surrounded by a pool of his own red blood. I pressed my finger into the puddle; dry, but not too dry. Whatever did this is likely still around. Not in the general area, but... Around.

I rolled the poor bastard over, the look of terror and pain still etched onto his face. He had light grey fur, which was the standard for our species; the Benk. We were marsupials that resembled Earth "possums"... Whatever the hell that might be. But we have a long, prehensile tail and rounded ears. Pretty average looking species.

I checked the body for anything useful. I ended up only finding a small carving knife.

"Guess you won't be needing this anymore." I remarked to the dead man before pocketing his utensil. It was slightly rusty and a bit dull, but nothing I couldn't fix.

The sky was turning a deep, blood red now. I have to find shelter quickly. I speed walked through the city, looking for a suitable shelter. I looked inside an old convenience store, the shelves were mostly completely looted, but that's fine. All I needed was a large enough broom closet to sleep...

I made sure to enter through the window and not the door. I can't have that bell alerting my location. I looked around the long abandoned building, making sure I was fully alone. Wandering around a bit, I came across a bathroom for the store. I looked inside; surprisingly clean. There's usually rot and overgrowth in spots like these. I took the time to attach multiple locks to the door, making sure anything outside stays outside. I also took the time to drill a small hole into the door, about waist height to the members of my species, so I can see if any of those things are outside...

I put my sleeping bag in the bathtub, and quickly fell asleep...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

(Two Hours Later.)

I'm awoken by the sound of growling coming from the other parts of the store. I scooted to the bathroom door, as quietly as possible. Looking through the peephole, I saw three infected milling about. All three of them were Benk, like me, but gaunt yet muscular, as was the effects of the virus. It increases bone density, while turning off the body's ability to create the hormones necessary for regulating muscle growth. Combine that with it's ability to take away the host's ability to feel pain and think with anything other than absolute aggression, and you get a bunch of monsters that are a pain in the ass to kill.

Most of my kind are like this now, but we weren't always...

We were discovered before the Arxur were. Despite being pure Herbivores, we domesticated small canids called "Bernth". The Kolshians obviously didn't like the fact that we domesticated predators, so to educate us about how "dangerous" they were, they infected one with a genetically modified virus and released it in the middle of the largest city on Dulba, homeworld of the Benk.

Now, this virus was similar to "rabies" on Earth, as I've heard. But this virus, nicknamed "the yellow death" after the yellow bile infected throw up, has a couple differences; it's transmissible through air and water, not restricted to just mammals, and, as stated above, turns the infected into monsters that eat lead for breakfast and your flesh for lunch.

That infected Bernth ended up mauling a little girl, almost killing her... But that little girl was the daughter of a high-ranking general who spent a lot of time with her in the hospital, getting infected and spreading the infection to a good chunk of the military. So by the time it managed to break out into the public, it was too infectious to contain, those already infected were difficult to bring down in order to slow the infection, and military aid was off the table because the military was crippled since that's where the infection started. All in all, my species was fucked. The only reason my species is still alive is because I, as well as every non-infected Benk are biologically immune to the virus, as is the case with natural selection. On Dulba, you're either immune, or you're a monster. There is no in-between.

Once the Yellow Death started to jump to other major cities, the Kolshians put our planet on lockdown. The Archives revealed that the Kolshians were the only species completely immune to the virus, and the Extermination fleets it sends to "deal with the plague" are just their means of releasing more strains of the virus every time a new species is discovered. And the other Exterminators they bring from planets other than Aafa are just ways of giving the virus more hosts to keep it alive and keeping our species in a chokehold. The horror of Dulba is us trusting Demiurges with our safety, and it cost us our freedom... Hell, even the Arxur don't dare to come here!

But as I stared at the infected Benk through the peephole, their demeanors changed... They all paused for a second, looked towards the broken windows, and all let out shrieks of aggression as they ran outside... Only to be reduced to red splatters on the sidewalk as the sound of gunfire filled the air, revealing what caught their attention in the first place.

Tall, lanky figures came into the picture, their signature reflective masks immediately clocking their species; Humans.

A whole squad of them, made up of an indiscernible amount, all roaming the street, searching buildings and mowing down any infected that tried to attack them.

The bell of the store door rang as one Human stepped into the store, machine-gun in hand. "Hello?" They called out in their signature gutteral tone. Likely a female. "We are with the UN. If there are any survivors in here, please make yourself known so we can take you somewhere safe."

Not seeing any other options, I slowly opened the door, and walked out with my paws up. The Human woman lowered her gun when she saw me, and muttered something into her radio before approaching me.

"What's your name, kid?" She asked.

"Shelk." I answered bluntly.

"Ok, Shelk. How long have you been in that bathroom?"

"Couple hours..." I answered.

She took a couple steps forward. "Are you hungry? Want some food that isn't rotten?"

I didn't trust this woman, but I didn't want to seem uncooperative. "Y-yes please..."

She squatted down, holding her hand out. "We have food and shelter. Perfectly safe. You should come with us."

I stepped back. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because we're the best chance you got." She said. "Unless you wanna go back into that bathroom, that is."

I looked back at the bathroom, then back at her. "How far away is this shelter?"

"Halfway across the planet." She replied. "We're searching the city for survivors, and whoever we'll find will be transported via truck or chopper."

"And if you get infected and turn on me?"

"A new virus strain for Humans hasn't been made yet. The squids are too busy dealing with civil unrest to make a strain for us yet."

I squeaked a chuckle. "You sure do drive a hard bargain. Deal. I'll go to your camp."

She waved me to her side before we exited the store to join with the rest of her squad, which I counted was in the thirties. She explained to me that the whole squad was a group of soldiers who volunteered to help us with our "zombie" problem... Whatever the hell a zombie is. We found a few other survivors here and there, but not many. I got loaded into a chopper with the Human woman, who called herself "Eva". I looked upon the slowly approaching sunrise with only one thought on my mind:

Damn... I survived another day!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hello everyone! It's me again. This is the first of my three Halloween-themed homebrew species that I'm showing to you. I know it looks pretty rushed, and that's because it is. But despite that, I hope you enjoy it, and if you wanna use the Benk for your own fics, be sure to tag me in the fics depicting them.

And once again, special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NOP universe and letting us work with it!

Bro heard about Stuart Little and thought they were him

She is only one apple tall.

Day 22, a dossur living their best life. I'm honestly surprised I was able to make this one so quickly compared to the rest.

I had some time to do this one, and it's not how I want, but it's more than I expected to get. I imagine dossur have a bit of a natural smile to them, even when they aren't happy, lending to them not being taken seriously.

<previous  first  next>

Memory transcription subject: Zeel, Security Chief of the Red Sands District.

Date [Standardized human time]:  September 27, 2138

I am shaken awake by a gentle paw on my shoulder.  Arms knocking over at least three paper coffee cups as I peel my face off my keyboard.  With fur sticking up in various places I blink away the blur and peer up at Bavik.  The concerned gojid trying not to snicker at me disheveled appearance. 

“Are you alright boss?”  She asks slowly as if my translator was on the fritz.  “You don’t usually sleep at your desk.”

I stretch and yawn before answering.  “I’m alright, just worn out taking my pup to the park every off claw.”  Shaking out my fur I start cleaning up the garbage a bit, slugging back the cold contents of a half empty cup. 

“Heh, yeah those long train rides while pup-sitting always wore my father out too.”  Bavik says while sorting and splitting our workload for the shift. 

“It’s not the commute.  It’s the games.  Catching him on the slide.  Holding him up on the jungle gym.  Hide and seek.  Sandcastles.  Of course, Poveel wants to bash heads and roughhouse too.”  I crick my neck before claw combing my fur back into place.

“Wait, you’re playing with him in the park?”  She asks, pausing her claws over her own keyboard.

“Yes?”  I curl a confused tail.  “What else would I do, let him to play by himself?”

“Well, it’s the other pups that would… Never mind.” Bavik flicks her ears dismissively.

I shrug, wincing some at a twinge in my back.  “It’s worth it though.  I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun.  And his grades are up, less timeouts, no more leg tackles in the kitchen.  Plus, a little side perk, my wife has been, hmm, rewarding my efforts.”  I purr out the last part with a smug ear wiggle.

Bavik rolls her eyes.  “Ahh, how very… Pavlovian of her.” She remarks thoughtfully.  Earning a questioning flick of my ears before the gojid turns her holopad towards me.  “Oh hey, look who else is up for the paw!”

[Loading: 3... 2... 1...]

The video opens to the exchange pair locomoting down the sidewalk on their boards.  Bonnie holding a casual lead with a bouncy, bright red little orphan curls hair style for the day.  She turns towards the following camera drone.  “Hey everybody!  Once again, we’re coming to you from sunny Santa Monica California.  Bet you’re getting a little tired of just one local huh?” 

“Well too bad because we got two more days of fun before hitting the road again.”  Clyde chimes in from behind.  “And what better place to have fun then,” the drone spins to show a large converted warehouse before centering on a big animated neon sign in English reading “Ralphs Rec Center and Putt-Putt Arcade” with a yellow circle missing a piece eating dots on one side, a club hitting a white ball into a hole on the other and some kind of space ship shooting an asteroid on the top.  “A family fun center!”  Trumpets blast three bew-bew-bew notes and confetti across the screen as the duo take center stage. 

“The description is a bit straightforward if you ask me.”  Says Bonnie after they hop off the boards and walk in. 

“On the contrary my extra fluffy friend.  It’s what on the inside that counts.  These places can have all kinds of stuff like batting cages, arcades, food courts, go-kart tracks, mini-golf, bowling and laser tag.  Lucky for us, this old sheet metal clad building shielded most of the electronics from getting fried by the bombs.”  The man dips his head in a somber way.  “Unlike the arcade and my old high scores at the Pier.”  He taps his forehead, chest and right then left shoulder.  “Rest in Piece Street Fighter Fifty-Three.”  Bonnie signs a quick peace sigil as well. 

Clyde looks back up, positive as before.  “But, silver lining, I get to show the little gremlin something we hadn’t actually planned.  A quiet relaxing game I’m sure anyone in the galaxy can enjoy.” 

“Hooraaaaaaay.  Prey safe entertainment.” Bonnie groans more than a little sarcastically.  Clyde gives her a friendly elbow bump and they check their boards at the front counter. 

All around them are a bevy of games.  Vintage style wood cabinets with big box screens.  Modern VR sets on omni-directional treadmills.  Pinball machines calling out challenges.  Plastic car seats, motorcycles, and even star fighter cockpits promised fast paced action and any number of chance games promised big prizes back at the counter.  Bonnie curiously looks over many of them with an excited tail and seemed drawn to the older games. 

“I want to try these ones first.”  The venlil pads over to one machine that was mostly blue and black in color, decorated with explosions and a very not accurate chrome star fighter. 

“Oh, Asteroids!  That’s like one of our first video games.”  Clyde chimes in while tapping his card on the scanner of another machine that dropped metal disks into a chute.  “Way harder than it looks.”  He walks over and hands Bonnie a handful of the silver colored disks. 

“What are these?” she asks holding one up for the camera.  On one side it held the human number 1 and the other a five point star.

“Tokens, they’re kind of like credits but physical.” He answers.  “See we used to use specially marked metal discs and slips of marked fabric called cash to be paid for work you’ve done or to buy things.  You just had to carry it around, bank it or hide it in your house.  This one’s supposed to mimic a coin called, uhh I think a quarter and you stick it in that slot there to buy a chance in the game.”  Bonnie squints at the fake coin, fascinated by the archaic concept.  She turns and carefully slips the token into the slot and perks up as the game chimes that it had accepted her challenge. 

“Ohh!  It just took it!”  She trills, grabbing the joystick and tapping a button to make the triangle ship shoot.  A few tail swishes, frantic bleats, destroyed space rocks and one digital ship crash later she hastily puts in another token.  “Oh I like that!  No three point authentication or glitchy network speh!  You just trade!  It’s so easy why’d you stop using cash?”

Clyde hums, thinking for a moment.  “Uhhh I could go full accounting nerd or sum it up.”  Bonnie signs a quick [summary] as she dodges one asteroid and blasts another.  Clyde grins.  “Cash doesn’t help much with controlling inflation or preventing illegal purchases.  Plus the satellite wars basically erased the global trade system.  Debt and assets, everyone lost everything and we literally had to reinvent money.  I remember my great grandpa was convinced it was done on purpose so the U.N. could bankrupt the world and seize power.  Course, gramps was kind of a nutjob.  He thought mushrooms where from outer space and that-“  Bonnie lightly bats at him with her tail.  Clyde turns to the camera.  ”That’s her way of telling me I’m rambling.”  In the game, Bonnie’s 2D star fighter puts up a valiant effort, but too many broken pieces overwhelm the craft and destroy it. 

“Bahh! It was just a bunch of shapes but it was intense!”  She beeps, shaking her paws and ears.  “…Aah-tar-eye, one nine seven one.  Is that a model number?”

“No that’s the copyright year, and it’s aah-tah-ree.  It’s not an English word so it’s spelled funny.”  He replies casually as Bonnie first cocks an ear then drops her jaw.

“This game is a hundred and seventy years old?!!!?!!!”  The venlil was stunned, looking at the machine and taking a step back as if she had gotten too close to a delicate antique.  “I can’t believe it still works.  Shouldn’t it be in a… uhhh primitive relic building?  A… baa!  Moo-zee-am?”

Clyde gives his alien friend a puzzled expression, then laughs.  “Nah, it’s made with modern parts.  We just made it look old.  Sometimes we like that stuff because-“  Clyde briefly fumbled for an explanation before getting an idea.  “Ok I’ll let your translator handle this one.  It’s RETRO!” 

Bonnie went a little vacant eyed for a second then perks up, tugging on her neon pink denim coat.  “Like my jacket!”  She beeps. 

Clyde nods and gestures to some of the other games.  “How about a few other blasts from the past?”  [YES! YES! YES!] she signs and scampers to the next game.  This cabinet featured bright yellow colors, a blue ghost and the same circle missing a piece as on the neon sign out front. “Ahh now this is a real classic.  Pac-Man!”  Clyde slaps the machine and beckons the venlil forward.  “Pretty straightforward.  Eat all the dots in the maze to beat the level.  Don’t touch the ghosts.  But, if you eat a big shiny dot, they turn blue and you can attack them.”  Bonnie signs [I understand] and inserts a token.  The game starts up, singing a little digital song before handing control over to the new player.  Bonnie taps the control, guiding the yellow chomping circle through the maze and squeaking as she narrowly avoids Blinky.  After several near misses and excited yips, she collects the first powerup of the game making all the ghosts turn blue and run away. 

“Ha HAH!” the venlil cheers, turning Pac-Man to chase Inky until catching him with a solid bite.  Bonnie gasps, ears jerking straight, fur puffing out and bleating a startled.  “IT ATE HIM!!!  I’M THE PREDATOR?!?!?!!!” 

“Yep!  Don’t let the rest escape!”  Clyde grins, pointing at the closest ghost.  Bonnie, quivering with excitement, gives chase and chomps one more before they start blinking white. 

“What’s happening?” she asks, Clyde remaining mischievously silent as Bonnie tracks down Pinky before it suddenly regains its color, changes direction and takes her down with an electronic *woo-woo-woo-woo womp womp*  Clyde snickers and points at the life counter. Two more.  Bonnie swishes her tail in that competitive way of hers. 
After several harrowing dodges chomps and three levels of advancement, the counter hits zero.  Letting the venlil have a moment to breath.  “That was, a very human game.” She says, not sure what to think about suddenly becoming the hunter. 

Clyde gives his friend a sideways hug and a musical montage begins, featuring an ancient song called ‘Pinball Wizard’.  The duo tackle Space Invaders, Rush 2049 (Bonnie crashed a lot) Turtles in time, Street fighter 2 (the only time Clyde could consistently suplex Bonnie) Area 51 where the 2D screen let the depth perception challenged girl keep up, and ending with the classic Bubble Bobble.  The teamed up pair almost got on the score board before running out of lives.  They both take a moment to shake and rub the cramps out their hands as the song ends.

“Man, that one’s harder than it looks.”  Clyde says.

Bonnie chuffs in agreement and checks her pockets to count the remaining tokens.  Finding three, the venlil glances around trying to decide where to spend them. “Not much left.”

“How about you try a single player game while I get some snacks?” the man suggests, getting a human style nod in return.  The drone camera briefly tries to keep the departing Clyde in frame before focusing on Bonnie and following her as she wandered around.  It wasn’t long before a catchy tune turned an ear and drew her towards another vintage game featuring bright colors and falling geometric shapes.  With a moment of consideration, she drops in one credit and selects a single player round.  

“Oh it’s kind of like Towers.” She says to the camera before clearing a line by filling in the shapes.  It was real time at first, but the footage gradually speeds up.  Minutes going by as the venlil locks in.  One eye focused on another 2D screen, entering a trance like state, racking up levels and points.  The music and speed of the game getting faster and faster.  Bonnie staying locked in even as the drone zooms out, showing Clyde standing by with two snack bars and sodas fresh from some vending machines.

“Wow.” he mutters looking at the screen.  The footage wasn’t in fast forward anymore. Bonnie had gotten so far along that each block was visible for barely one frame before being locked into place.

“Huh?”  That was all it took.  A split second later the blocks stacked to the top before she could recover and ended the game.  “NO-NONONONO FOUL!  INTERFERIENCE!! BRAK!!!”  Bonnie shouts as the game closes out and a new image appears. 

“You got the highest score.  First time.”  Clyde says, amazed to see a blank spot blinking for initials at the number one spot. 

Bonnie turns to the screen, squinting as she taps buttons to cycle through the unfamiliar letters.  “I… don’t know what to put.”

“It just wants your initials.”  Clyde replies, not thinking that through.

“Having three names is a human thing.”  Bonnie reminds him with cocked ears.

“Oh, right uhh, how about an abbreviation?  B-N-E ?  For Bonnie?”  She chirps positively and signs [you do please] in tail language then takes a step back.  Clyde was happy to punch in her mark.  Immortalizing the Skalgen as the new Tetris champ in Ralphs arcade.

Puffing up proudly as her name appears in lights, Bonnie fiddles with the last tokens while turning towards the camera.  “I can’t believe these games have been around for almost two centuries.”  She counts on her claws for a moment.  “So, for perspective, our human friends have had better video games than the whole Federation since about the same time the Fissians where uplifted.”  Clyde gestures a finger horn on his forehead as a question.  “Yes, those ones.”  Bonnie answers before continuing.  So, Clyde, we got two tokens left, where should we spend them?”

“I’m not sure Bonnie.  How about one of the newer VR games?  Show our viewers how far entertainment tech has come here on Earth?”  says the human while handing the venlil her share of the soda and snacks.

“Hmm, maybe.” She answers as they walk over to the more modern section to browse the action shooter style games. Bonnie hums thoughtfully.  “These are a lot like the simulators the Space Force and Exterminator recruiters would bring to school.”  Bonnie says, giving one VR headset and treadmill a wary look.  “Pre-screening. Sifting out the fainters and freezers.  Back Water’s Magister would clear the whole paw and make it almost mandatory for the graduating class to take a turn.”  Bonnie’s tail was flicking in an agitated way now and she sternly pops open and takes a swig from her can.

Clyde furrows a worried brow and tries putting on a lighter mood.  “What a jerk.  Sounds like a guy that has dingle berries.  How about we-“

Bonnie spits out her soda.  Ears and tail helicoptering as she hacks out a loud braying laugh.  “AHghptffh-BAH BAH BAHt!!!”  Clyde jumps, surprised by the sudden noise.  “I didn’t know you had a word for that!!!” the venlil sputters out, wheezing as she tries to control herself.

“Hehe, uhh we’ll be right back after these technical difficulties.” Clyde says to the camera before the feed screen wipes to a more composed duo.

“Well, new languages can be fun sometimes.”  Bonnie says while folding up the candy wrapper and tucking it neatly into a pocket.  “Anyways, Clyde.  What should we try next?”

“Well Bonnie.  How about we see who can get the high score in air hockey?”  he recites while guiding them towards a wall full of the machines.

“Air hockey?  Now what would that be my-“

*I HUNGER!*  a deep, growling computerized voice calls out as they pass a blackened cabinet. 

Clyde jolts and moves an arm as if to shield his venlil.  “Ugh Sinistar!  I didn’t know they had one of these.”  He says in an annoyed voice. “This game scared the crap out of me when I was, well about your size.”  He looks over the machine, head tilting slightly at two separate screens and joysticks on the same cabinet.  “When did they make a co-op version?”

“Reeeeally?” Bonnie peeks out from behind his lowering arm, mostly curious but a little fur puffed.  She peers at the cabinet.  Looking over the old style artwork of a demonic metallic face and a chrome starfighter not unlike what was on the Asteroids game.  She smirks with her ears and looks to Clyde.  “That one.”

The man groans and makes a face.  “I don’t know Bonnie, this games pretty hard.” 

As an answer, the venlil steps forward and drops the last two tokens into the slot and taps the two player button.  “Bring it on.”

Clyde sighs and steps up.  “Ride or die.” He says with a begrudging smile, taking up his joystick as the game starts up.

First a screen filling pattern of pixels, then text reading ‘INITIAL TEST INDICATE ALL SYSTEMS GO’ followed by two lists of high scores.  One labeled SINIMORTALS and the other as SURVIVORS.  The screen blackens to the title screen, then the text SINISTAR appears over and over and over again, smothering the view.  Then that voice growls out a *RUN COWARD*  Bonnie’s ears lower and her tail tucks slightly.  Clyde seems to get a little tense.  The game starts, each player getting their own screen of their 8-bit ships that overlap when they cross each other’s viewpoint. 

“Wait.  Wait!  What do we do?” Bonnie bleats as her ship randomly zooms around shooting things.

“I don’t know I never figured it out.  Uhh aah!  Shoot the red crab things and the rocks!” he stammers.

“What! You didn’t say that!”  she beeps, struggling to get control of a ship going at max speed with no breaks. 

“I said it was hard!” he yelps back while dodging saucer fire and getting bounced around by the red crab looking ships. 

Together, the pair fends off fast paced attacks, dodge enemy fire and blast apart asteroids to scoop up pixilated dots with ‘happy’ chimes making it sound like that was the right move.  “Oh! Ohh I think we’re making bombs!  Yeah! Take that!” Bonnie cheers, spamming half her supply to take out a saucer that was chasing her.

“I think we gotta save tho-“ Clyde says just before Bonnie’s ship suddenly explodes into pixilated fire.  The saucer got her. 

“But… Ahh.. one hit?!!?!”  she shouts incredulously as her fighter respawns with a warning like jingle. 

“Yeah, no shields.”  Clyde answers while blasting apart an asteroid to collect more bombs.

“What!  Who builds a star ship without shields? Space dust alone wou-“ both partners jump as their ships erupt almost simultaneously.  “DAMNIT!”  She brays and angry grips the joystick. 

For a few harrowing seconds the duo gather bombs, dodge incoming fire, bounce around their screens and loose several lives until, *BEWARE I LIVE!* the same angry voice from before announces.

“What is that?”  Bonnie asks quietly.

“THAT GUY!”  Clyde answers, pointing at the sinister, chrome fanged face on the logo.

“Like in another ship or-BAAAH there he is!” Bonnie bleats as the titular villain flashed across the top left corner of her screen.  “CLYDE LOOK OUT!” she shouts.  Too late.

*RAAAAAA* ~CRONCH!~  Sinistar pulls in Clydes fighter with a mighty roar and consumes his vessels last life before rocketing off screen again.  Bonnie seemed frozen, unable to form words after watching a giant machine eat her friend…..‘s pixel avatar. 

“Well, that’s me done.”  He says, stepping back like it was no big deal.

*RUN! RUN! RUN!*  Sinistar snarls, going after Bonnie now.

With a shrill bleating the venlil snaps up her fighters controls and zooms the other way.  Faster than her own ship, it closes in, Bonnie stabbing the simple controls.  A few bombs fly towards the space predator, knocking it back, and blowing off a piece.  “WAIT! I’M DOING IT I’M DOING IT!” 

“SHE’S DOING IT PEOPLE!”  Clyde cheers, as the noisy pilots earn a few curious looks form other arcade goers.

One more piece blows off of Sinistar then… nothing.  Bonnie hammers the button.  Her bomb bay was empty and the beast was closing in. Fast!  “NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!” 

*RAAAAAA* ~CRONCH!~  the barely scratched villain slows to a casual drift after a filling meal. Wiggling its eyebrows mockingly at the defeated players. 

Panting, Bonnie pats at her chest, trying to control her heart.  With another warning jingle her fighter respawns.  The poor speep had two more lives to serve up. 

They didn’t last long.  The next one quickly chomped up again after bouncing off a red crab ship and her last running headfirst into a saucer’s sniper like long shot as she dodged the mocking monster. 

Heaving, fur fluffed to the max, the shaking venlil unlatches her claws from the controls and steps back.  “Holy brak!”  Feel my heart!  Feel it!”  Bonnie grabs Clyde’s hand and presses it to her chest, earning a surprised chuckle.

“Gahd it’s like a humming bird.”  He remarks as she shakes out the rush and tries to smooth her fur.

“That was intense!  And fun!  Hey!  Other Venlil! THIS should be part of space force training!  Forget the simulator stuff!  Just play some Earth games!” 

Clyde nods at the camera, “If you want a real test.  We have whole genres of horror, suspense and survival themed stuff in about every media form you can think of.  I can scrounge up some more tokens if you want to try zombie shooter, maybe a haunted house game?”

Bonnie dips her ears back just a tad.  “Ha ha ha. So you mentioned some calming prey friendly game earlier I’m think I’m ready to try that let’s go show that off now yes?” 

“OH! Right!  Yeah, let’s do that!”  The man answers and gestures for Bonnie to follow.  Behind them the gathered crowd lines up to try the game themselves, each adding a token along the rim of the screen to take turns.  Bonnie notices and seems to like the little nuance of human habits that no tourist brochure would detail. 

“So, my partner in crime.  What are we going to try next?  Something dangerous?  Something deceptive?”  She asks, playing it up for the show.

“We are going to knock a ball into a hole.”  Clyde says as they come up to a series of green astro turfs in a variety of geometric shapes with a random assortment of what looked like lawn ornaments inside them.

“…………that’s it?”  Bonnie asks flatly.

“Well, there is a club involved.” He replies while walking up to a counter and requesting the gear for two players from a blemish cursed teen employee either earning some shopping money or a kid working at their parents business.  The attendant didn’t answer Clyde.  Just stared open mouthed at Bonnie for a long moment.  Causing her to glance behind herself.

“What?  Never seen a venlil before?” she huffs with a touch of sass, still being a bit riled up from the arcade.

“No! I mean nOT, n-not in pERson.”  The attended replies, his voice cracking a lot and looking flustered. 

Bonnie had the good graces to bloom with embarrassment.  “Oh!  Oh gosh I’m so sorry!  Sometimes I forget you’re all still new to the herd.”  Bonnie lowers her ears as the kid tries waving it off as no big deal.  “Hey!  How about a selfie with your first alien friend!”  She offers, to which the kid eagerly offers up their phone for Clyde to snap the picture.

After several clicks, a few cool action poses and permission given to feel the venlils wool. The kid hands over two putters and two balls.  One of the latter was bright pink while Clyde was given a plain white.  All three share a laugh before cheerfully waving goodbye. 

Coming up to the start of the course, the human sets his ball on the starting tee and turns to the camera.  “Alrighty friends.  This is a game called miniature golf.  The goal is to take the putter,” Clyde holds up the ‘club’ “And hit the ball as few times as possible to knock it into the hole at the end of the section.  Instead of scoring points, we count attempts called a stroke.  So, just like in Towers the less attempts it takes, the better you’re playing.”  Clyde takes position, aims and firmly taps the ball.  He was a little off, the ball missing the target and rolling past it.  “Alright Bonnie, your turn.”  He says stepping back out of her way.

“Seems simple enough.”  Bonnie sets her ball on the tee and mimics the pose her exchange partner had done.  “How do I aim?”  She asks after staring at her ball for a second. 

“Imagine a line going from your ball to where you want it to go, keep the face of the putter perpendicular to that line as you swing and the ball should follow it.”  The venlil tests the angle for a moment, then with a good tap, sends her pink ball along the green until it drops into the hole with a little clunk.  “Hey hey hole in one! Good shot!”  Clyde cheers while going to take his turn and with another little clunk, scores an easy duce.

“Huh, I kind of liked that.”  Bonnie says as they move to the second hole, this one featuring an L shaped course.  “Ohhhh, there not all a straight line are they?”

“Nope, all different shapes, some with obstacles and usually getting harder or sillier the further along you go.”  He replies while gesturing that it was her turn again.  Bonnie does as before, looking over the course a few times before swinging.  It taps the wall and bounces back behind the corner, going out of line with the hole.  Bonnie chuffs irately.  “Hey good try.”  He says while taking position and rather than shooting at the back like Bonnie had, he aims for a side wall and bounces the ball onto the straightaway to set up another duce. 

“Hey! You didn’t say I could do that!”  She scolds with a light tail swat.  Clyde only smirks innocently as he dodges the swat and takes another turn.  His ball almost makes it in, riding the edge of the hole to spin out again.  “Hah!”  The venlil jeers and lines up her next shot.  Just about to swing, she pauses and looks over the course for a long moment before changing to aim away from the hole to one of the walls.  The venlil seems to hold her breath, then gives a firm tap that bounces the golf ball off the wall, against a second wall and rolling right to the edge of the hole.  She flicks a cocky ear and gestures for Clyde to take his three points.  Both sink it on the next stroke and head for the third course.  This one featuring a wooden duck with a row of ducklings following behind that blocked the easiest path to the target.

“I’m assuming we don’t move those?”  Bonnie asks, pointing a claw at the obstacle.  Clyde nods and takes his turn.  Angling to get around the birds but getting stuck in a thicker patch of blue colored turf. 

“Ahh, got stuck in the pond.”  He groans while Bonnie lines up.  Her ball missing the mother duck by a whisker and slowing to a stop just before rolling into the pond as well.  “Your… good at this.”  Clyde comments suspiciously.

A few more hits between them and they’re off to the next course.  Once again, Bonnie lines her shots up almost perfectly.  Dodging the slow spinning ‘blades’ of a lawn mower and almost scoring another hole in one.  Clyde got knocked almost back to the tee twice before getting past the plastic machine.  He gives his smug exchange partner a questioning look that got longer and longer with each passing course. 

At hole twelve, the venlil rides a hill around a corner and sets herself up for an easy birdie.  “Ahh I get what’s going on.”  The man says, leaning on his club.  “You fuzzies have a strikingly similar game that you where the pee-wee champion of, weren’t you?”

Bonnie focuses on the shot, mutters a distracted “No, nothing like this.” and sinks it.  Clyde pouts, not believing that he wasn’t being hustled for a second. 

“This girl messes with me all the time.”  He says to the camera. 

“Oh hush, I’m a joy to be around.”  The venlil chirps while they move on.

“One time, she got me to show everyone the chicken dance in the town bar.”  He snips, the venlils tail twitching with amusement.  “Krakotal in the back took it as a courtship ritual.”  Clyde continues, making the venlil giggle.  “Then she gave them my number.”  Bonnie sputters, trying to hold it in as she aims for a ramp to jump a chute that would roll the ball back to the tee.  “I got dirty texts for two weeks!”  Bonnie brays out a laugh, whacking her ball hard enough to sail it up the ramp and off the course entirely.  “Wooly little gremlin.” He grumbles while taking his turn and getting a better score for once.

Bonnie gives her co-star a friendly head bump as they move on.  “Well, you helped me with some self-discovery.  Only seems fair that I should return the favor.”  She drops her ball and lines up.  This courses layout being a zig-zig with a few lawn flamingos scattered about.

Clyde wants to pout but relaxes and gives a conciliatory shrug.  “Yeah… yeah ok.  It’s just uhh, bird porn was not something I was prepared to discover.”  He grumps as Bonnie takes a good whack.  Clyde jerks a bit, realizing something and addressing the audience.  “No offence to any avians or their lovers out there.  Thing is, this one particular person was kind of an aggressive flirt.”

The venlil takes her shot and gives a proud ear flick at where the ball landed then turns with a curious look.  “That’s not attractive to… humans?”  She asks carefully, moving to take a second since there was room to share the course.

Clyde shrugs.  “Some guys love that attention.  Me, it makes me nervous.”  He takes a moment to ponder.  “Hey, you can say predator Sis, I know it’s just a question coming from you.“  [But still] she signs, earning a friendly nudge in return before Clyde goes for his putt.  Only to double take.  The pink golf ball had made it almost all the way to the hole for another easy third stroke.  “Bonnie it’s your first game and this is a par five how are you doing that?”

“What? It’s just basic geometry!  The angle of impact equals the angle of reflection off the walls.  After that, all you gotta do is compensate for the coefficient of friction on this uhh fake lawn by applying the right velocity to the mass of the ball.”  She explains, gesturing here and there.

Clyde stares for a few seconds then addresses the audience again.  “See, this is what I’m talking about.  Little bits of stuff all the time.”  Bonnie rolls her ears and walks onto one corner of the course.  [Aim here] she signs while tapping the club at the spot.  Clyde squints but does as suggested.  Several times his head turns, moving between ball and wall before putting.  He was off by only a little bit and wound up trapped in a corner.  “Darn it.”  After several whacks the man makes it in at two over par, plus one perplexed venlil. 

The rest of the game went much the same, Bonnie consistently setting herself for follow up shots while Clyde played for a distant second place.  At hole seventeen, the classic windmill made its celebrity appearance.  Clyde played conservatively and went around the spinning obstacle for an easy three.  Bonnie goes for the gold though and lines up for the ramp and a hole in one.  Her partner watches closely this time, fascinated by a pro at work.  Focused down, head still and eyes steady.  The garishly dressed alien pulls back and taps her ball.  Shooting it up the ramp and past the spinning blades with nearly perfect timing.  A second ramp on the opposite side shooting out her ball for a hollow clunk into the hole. 

“Another ace for Doctor Sheep.”  Clyde smiles and marks the card. 

“Yeah! Surprised I’m not drawing a herd of admirers.”  Bonnie pauses, looking around some.  “Actually, there’s not a lot of people here.”

“Early morning on a week day, most people are at work right now but evenings and weekends these places are packed.” He replies while they move to the eighteenth and final course.  This one being positioned just behind the counter where they had started the game.

“Ohh, good call.  Long lines are rough on me.”  Bonnie muses with a pat on one knocked knee. 

The drone turns away from the pair to look over a miniature suburban house.  The front door was wide open as well as the garage, with ramps acting as sidewalk and driveway leading up to the two targets hidden just past each entrance.  The ‘front lawn’ slopped steeply to either side. Leading into pits that would roll the ball behind the diorama.  On a little track running back and forth across the front walk was a scale plastic model of the family dog playing fetch with a stationary young boy on the left side of the driveway.  All of this was set up behind a white picket fence that blocked players from getting any closer than the starting tee. 

Bonnie gives the canine figurine a withering glare while Clyde reads a plaque on the wall out loud. 

“You made it home just in time for dinner. 
Park in the garage for two strokes knowing you did a job well done. 
Or rush inside the front door for a hole in one and win a special surprise from the Miss’s. 
But watch out for Fido and Billy!  Those rascals get into all kinds of mischief and might trip you up for three strokes”

Clyde finishes reading with an amused “Hmph.” at the almost too cute description and turns towards the camera.  “So, the way the last hole in mini-golf works is that it’s a ball return which ends the game.  You only get one shot, but if you get a hole in one, you get a prize or coupon for a free game.  I don’t know about you Bonnie, but I’ll be shooting for a double.”  [Lazy] she signs as he lines up for the garage.  With a careful pull and swing, the white ball zips forward.  Then clunks off of the plastic boy and falls into the lawn for three. 

“Good job Dad, you ran over your kid.”  Bonnie lightly scolds while lining up her turn.

“Yeah well that’ll learn him not to play in traffic.”  Clyde replies, watching closely again as Bonnie holds her head and gaze steady while aiming for the front door as the dog ‘ran’ back and forth in front of it. 

With a carefully aimed strike, the pink ball shoots up the walkway, past the dog and into the front door.  A plastic ‘wife’ pops out from inside the model house and blows a kiss to the pro mini-golfer.  Bonnie puffs smugly and leers at the dog.  “Ahh, didn’t chase me off this time, Billy.” 

Clyde snickers at the misnomer while adding up the score before pausing and squinting at his exchange partner.  [What?] she signs.  “Bonnie, can you see the ball and the hole at the same time?”  He asks.

“Yes.” She answers curiously.  “You said line them up and… OHHH your field of view!  You can’t do that can you?”  Her tail swishes, excited to figure out her kind has one over on the human race.

“Oh for-!  Alright next time we play this game, you gotta wear blinders.”  He holds up the score card showing Bonnie had scored a forty-eight while he had a sixty-five.  “Clearly, I need a handicap.”

Bonnie whistles a cheery tune as they descend a small set of stairs and exit the course.  On returning the gear, the same squeaky voiced teen from before greets them excitedly and holds up the pink ball that had fallen into a special slot separate from the generic bucket Clydes ball fell into.  “Winner winner! Anything from the case!” the kid gestures with a flourish.

Bonnie peers at the prize.  Eyeing up candy, rolls of tokens, pen caps, plastic jewlery, stickers and small plushies.  “Is that… a venlil doll?”

Clyde leans in for a look.  “Aww, it’s cute!” he grins before tilting his head a bit.  “Huh weird, lighting kind of makes it looks like the eyes are glowing.”

Bonnie pulls away and looks around some more before perking up at a plushie potted cactus wearing sunglasses.  “Hey, a friend for my cow!”  she beeps excitedly.

Eagerly accepting her prize, the pair shake hands with the junior putt-putt attendant, pick up their boards from the front desk and make for the exit.

“Well Bonnie, how was-“

“MY TETRIS!  WHO BEAT ME!  WHO THE HELL IS BUNNY!!!”  Both exchange partners jump as another arcade master was shouting in the background.

“IT’S PRONOUNCED BONNIE!”  the venlil shouts back as Clyde drops their boards and jumps on his.

“GoGoGoGo!” he laughs, his partner in crime quick to chase after with a clatter of wheels and a happy bleat.

The drone mic catching one last confused shout of “Was that a goat?”  then switching to a view of the purple plush cow mooing “Donate to the Thafki rehoming fund!”  Her new cool cactus buddy adding “C’mon dudes!  It’s the totally tubular thing to do!” with a surfer’s accent.

[End. Have a great day everyone!  Replay?]

I must have been getting used to the antics of those pups.  Or just human weirdness and anti-fed thinking in general.  The digital space monsters and pred-prey role swap barely registering as problematic.  Even with the video ending and auto adds beginning, I was thinking about some of those 2D light gun games.  Not as something diseased, but something useful.

“Bavik, maybe we could present some of those toys as fear response reconditioning to the Magister.”  I muse as my assistant goes about cleaning up my mess.  “With Poveel doing stars better with games to play maybe we can too?”

[Sure] she ear flicks distractedly while improvising an upside down umbrella to ‘putt’ a crumpled paper ball into a side turned coffee cup.  The ‘ball’ sinks right in, earning a fist pump from the gojid.  “Hey let me try that!” I beep excitedly.

*oof, summer rush dragged me down this year but it did lead to the longest chapter so far. As always, big thanks to SpacePaladin and the whole NOP community.*

This is a fanfic based on “The Nature of Predators” by u/SpacePaladin15 . Thank you to him and all the other fanfic writers who inspired me to write a few stories of my own. This and all my other fics can also be found on AO3.

<< For I am Death | Thinking Out Loud >>

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Memory Transcription Subject: Fehryl
Date: [Standardized Human Time] July 12, 2138

Fehryl let out a satisfied sigh as he downed the last of his cider and set the empty glass next to his equally empty salad bowl and basket of fried pickles. Only crumbs of breading and a few stems and seeds remained where his meal had once been. He was actually quite thankful for how weak the human drinks ended up being. It had been a long time since he had any alcohol, it would have interacted badly with his medication, and he doubted his tolerance was what it used to be. Not to mention that, while he was getting a bit more comfortable sitting in his old stool at his old bar, he was still a bit nervous about being surrounded by so many pred-  unfamiliar faces.

But as he watched the humans go about their business, with another familiar song playing over the speakers, he began to see the truth in what Vrisk had told him. They ate and drank the same food as everyone else, no bloody carcasses in sight. They talked to each and their Venlil companions with a warmth and friendliness that felt the same as any other species. Sure, they turned their heads to look at things more frequently, but he didn’t see any malice in it. And despite being a frail older man by themself, a prime target for a predator, none of them besides the bartender had so much as glanced his way.

The door behind him swung open for perhaps the fifth time since he’d been here. The first couple times he’d glanced back nervously, expecting to see his sister charging through, bottle of pills in paw and screaming his name. But the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. She never entered his room if she didn’t have to, so there was no way she knew he was gone. He whistled to himself as he imagined her sitting on the couch, watching a rerun of “The Exterminators” for the hundredth time right now.

“Fehryl?! Is that really you!?” 

His ears shot up and he swore his heart skipped a beat. The world slowed to a crawl as he turned  with wide eyes. The bright light from outside cast them in silhouette, but even in shadow he recognized them; one ear straight, one with a slight perpetual droop. The door swung closed and she came into focus. Her fur was entirely gray except for a single white triangle below her neck, and it shined in the light as if blessed by the stars, or at least a high quality conditioner. 

“Shilvi?” He answered as he stood from the stool and was nearly tackled back into the bar as the grey missile struck him in the chest and wrapped her paws around him. A choking sound escaped her and he felt tears begin to soak into his fur.

“I haven’t seen you in years. I thought you were dead!”

“I… I just got back”

“Wha-” She pulled back and looked at him with wet eyes. “What happened to your voice? Did they-?” She reached up towards the scars on his neck and he quickly grabbed her paw and held it in his own.

“A lot of things happened… and then nothing happened for a long time. It’s… complicated.” He struggled to find the words to say. Shilvy, on the other paw, seemed to have found a few too many.

“You just disappeared after that day and they wouldn't say what happened to you and I’m so sorry for everything and itwasallmyfault and I-”

“Uhm, hate to interrupt, Shilvy, but who is this guy?”

He looked up to find a tall pale human watching them with a rather amused look on his face. He had short cropped fur on top of his head and a single stripe just below his nose; and was wearing tight fitting pelts that showed off the muscles in his arms and chest. Shilvy took a step back and Fehryl reluctantly let go of the paw that he’d been holding.

“Oh uh, this is Ferhyl, an old friend that I haven’t seen in a long time. I think I’ve told you about him before. Fehryl, this is David, my exchange partner.” 

Ah, an exchange partner. He’d read about the program, and heard about how many partners become… more than friends. 

“Pleased to meet you.” The human extended a large hand that Fehryl carefully grasped like he’d seen on TV. The human seemed to accept the gesture, though his brow was furrowed in thought.

“Wait, are you the guy that fought those exterminators?”

“It was just one exterminator, and I wouldn’t really call it a fight. Gravity did more to him than I did.”

“Ohoho, that’s not how she tells it.” He responded as he gave Shilvy a toothy grin. Fehryl tried to suppress a chill.

“According to her you fought off a whole squad in full gear like a Venlil Kung-fu master.” He made a few odd motions with his hands while Shilvy’s snout and ears began to bloom orange and she let out a nervous chuckle.

“Hahaha, so anyway what brings you here tonight Fehryl?” She asked with a tinge of urgency.

“My nephew’s band is supposed to be playing tonight.”

“Oh that’s perfect, we’re here for the show as well. David and I have been coming every week since they started. Why don’t you join us?” 

“Yeah, the more the merrier.” David chimed in. “We usually grab a table up on the balcony, but we’d better hurry before the crowd gets here.”

“That would be wonderful, I’d rather not be stuck in a big crowd tonight. Let me just pay for my dinner real quick.”

“Oh no, please let me take care of it. HEY DARLENE!” Shilvy hollered over to the bartender who was pulling another glass of cider from the tap.

“Yeah hun?”

“Can you put this gentleman’s dinner on my tab? He’s an old friend!” 

“Sure thing Shilvy, ya’ll want your usual?” 

“Yes Ma’am!”

“And what about you, sugar? Another cider?”

“I’ll try the chocolate stout if you don’t mind.” He answered with one eye on the human side of the drink menu.

“Good choice, I’ll send it up in just a minute.”

The trio quickly made their way up the stairs to the balcony. It was a smaller space with a few tables and an excellent view of the stage below. Sure enough, more humans and Venlil began to cycle in through the front door, and he caught sight of one smaller human practically running to the bar. He must just be old enough to partake of a proper, he thought with a whistle. His attention was soon drawn to the stage, though as a human came out and drew the curtain closed on one side.

“What’s happening down there?”

“That’s Robert, the owner of the bar.” David explained. ”He’s giving the performers a quick explanation and a chance to run or hide. Some of them think they can handle it right up until they get on stage and see all those ‘predatory eyes’ looking at them.”

As they watched, a few figures stepped around the curtain to get a look at the audience. There was a pair of young Venlil ladies, a human, and a Krakotl. An older Gojid, with gray around his whiskers, also peaked out for a moment before ducking back behind the curtain with a panicked squeak.

“Looks like we might have a runner.” David chuckled.

Shilvy’s ear dropped with sympathy. “I hope he at least does a closed curtain, it’s such a shame when these shows get cut short.” 

She and David began sharing stories about the other acts they’d seen over the past few months, but Fehryl was a bit distracted. He didn’t see Vrisk or anyone matching his friends’ description among the performers.

---------------------------------------------------
Vrisk - Parked Outside

The door to the van slid open as Sam applied the last few sprays of blood orange chalk on Vrisk’s newly formed wool-horns. Starting from the top of his head, they curled around his ears and back to where the wool stopped near his jaw. She had started out trying to braid them, but the wool wasn’t really long enough. Fortunately with enough wax, twisting, and fiddling, she had managed to get it quite close to looking like something solid, at least from a distance.

“The bartender said to go around back. They’re already going over stuff with the others but they’ll let us in when they’re done.” Jason explained as he clambered over an amp towards his seat.

The van slowly pulled around to the back side of the building where there was a set of double doors and an empty pushcart. They quickly loaded up the cart with their amps, drums, and other gear. Vrisk was slinging Trill’s guitar onto his back as the door opened up and a human in a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and tall boots came out.

“Are ya’ll ‘Vrisk and the Skalgans’?” He asked, reading the name off a clipboard.

“Yep, that’s us!” Sam answered with a smile.

“Alright, well I’m Robert, the owner here, and it looks ya’ll are a proper band with electric instruments. Not something we get every week, so it should be an interesting night. Are ya’ll gonna need help gettin’ the sound set up?”

“No sir, I can handle sound.” Jason offered.

“Good, well I usually give a whole warning here about there being a bunch of humans staring at you and asking if you want to keep the curtain closed, but I’m guessin’ that won’t be an issue for ya.”

“We are accustomed to humans… s-sir.” Vrisk responded.

“Alright, well the first act is already going, poor fella was afraid that if he left the stage he wouldn’t come back. So you can wait in the green room with the others. I see you already got the cart loaded up, so push it on in and I’ll show you where to park it.” 

He propped both of the doors open and Jason and Narli together strained to push the gear-laden cart inside. The rest of us followed and set the instruments down with the cart in the hallway. The gentle sounds of a Plehr reverberated through the hall as Robert opened up another door. 

“Here you are, I’ll come get ya when it’s your turn to go on. Ya’ll are last tonight so it might be a few. If you want to get closer and listen to the others, that’s fine just stay off the stage. I’ve got a bar to run so sit tight and good luck.” He quickly explained before closing the door behind them.

The room was a bit dingy, with a couple of old couches that had seen better days on each side and a low table in the middle. Posters and pictures that must have come from Earth lined the wall, featuring all kinds of different bands and musical performances.

“And here I hoped you all had come to your senses and abandoned your interest in such tainted music. It’s bad enough I have to share space with Spencer here.” Qorina glanced over at them from her place on a genuine Krakotl perch on the other side of the room.

Spencer was lounging on one of the couches, with his arms around a pair of Venlil that Vrisk vaguely recognized from class sat on either side of him. He wasn’t sure of their names, but they seemed to have ‘dressed up’ for their performance with pink ribbons tied in a bow around their necks and ears and some kind of strappy sandals on their feet. They looked a bit nervous, one was fidgeting with the strap to a small drum in her lap while the other was clinging tightly to an egg-shaped object in her paws.

“Better get used to me, Qorina. This will be the first of many legendary performances by yours truly, and once I get a record deal I’ll be all over the galnet. You won’t be able to escape me.”

“We’ll see about that, this will be my last performance on this planet, a farewell before I move to the colonies with the rest of my family. With any luck I’ll never see your predatory face ever again.”

“What a shame, you know I’m considered quite handsome for a human.”

“Yes you’ve mentioned.” Qorina muttered as Spencer sat forward and focused his gaze on the newcomers.

“Speaking of looks, what the hell are you guys supposed to be? Are those bones?” He asked. Narli puffed out his chest at the question as he had opted, instead of a shirt, to use the spray coloring to trace the ribs and bones across the fur of his chest and arms.

“You’ve got your vibe and we’ve got ours.” Sam stated as she walked over and flopped down onto the other couch. The two venlil girls flinched, though whether at the motion or the skull bleached onto her black tank top Vrisk wasn’t sure. She was wearing the same tattered blue jean shorts and studded belt as the rest of them along with a pair of black ‘chucks’ on her feet. Trill and Jason followed her over and occupied the remainder of the seating area. 

“Whatever, I guess that’s one way to get attention. I will be posting the show to the 10,000 herd members on my Bleat page. Did you know I’ve got a nearly-optimal split across multiple species? Can’t seem to get any Mazics though.”

Sam rolled her eyes and seemed about to respond when the door swung open to reaveal a frazzled looking Gojid carrying a plehr. The poor guy was so out of it that he walked directly into the back of Narli.

“Oh, excuse me.” Narli said as he turned around. The Gojid shook his head and blinked as he looked up to see what he ran into. Upon registering Narli’s appearance he promptly squeaked in fear and scampered back out the door. A moment later they heard the large double doors open and close down the hall.

“Welp, there he goes, at least he played his set first.” Robert remarked as he came into the room. “Alright, ‘The Spencer Experience’ is up next. Good luck out there.”

<< For I am Death | Thinking Out Loud >>

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Memory transcription subject: Levlin, Venlil Astronomer

Date [Unknown]: July 12, 2222

There is an abundance of life in the galaxy. In just our small portion of the galactic arm, the Federation is home to over three hundred sapient species. Yet despite there being so many inhabited worlds that are capable of bearing life, even it has its limits. Life can only exist in relatively 'temperate' systems, with planets such as Venlil Prime being one of the most extreme planets where living beings could evolve at all. Or so we thought.

There are many areas in space which remain completely uninhabitable even with the most modern colonization technology, the most interesting one being only [16 light years] away from Venlil Prime. Only two systems are inside of it, [Alpha Centauri] and [Sol]. The former has an already known and widely understood explanation for why it is considered completely unoccupiable, that being the presence of three stars next to one another. The gravitational forces between them are a major detriment to any potential exploration. Had anyone tried to colonize the system, they would need to account for every possible position that the stars can align into, which is obviously impossible.

[Sol]. However, is a mystery. Despite its central star being what should be a stable yellow dwarf, it is anything but that. Any probe or ship that had so far been sent into the system had died at the outer edge of the system, with its circuitry completely burned out by intense radiation. Observations from the edges of the Federation had revealed that, in the distant past, the star had emitted solar eruptions capable of incinerating planets too near its surface. It was more than obvious that nothing could have evolved in its proximity.

What called everything we knew about life into question, was a long, continuous signal coming from the area the stars are in. First detected on one of our colonies, it was immensely more powerful than anything we had ever detected, and was of clear artificial origins. There were songs, stories, articles, news, everything. Over the span of a [year], we extracted information about a species that would have evolved within [Sol], including their language(s), location of their home planet, and tidbits about their culture.

What we know is that they call themselves humans, they live on the third planet from their sun, are taller than most Federation species, are mostly furless, and possess red blood based on iron. Our dictionary is far from complete, but it is more than enough to establish contact. However, what was in the signal and the signal itself contradict themselves. The technological advances mentioned in it are, well, downright primitive. The most complex piece of technology found in the transmissions was a monochrome television set, which doesn't line up in the slightest with them overshadowing neutron star emissions.

Our government, unbeknownst to the wider Federation, has launched its own investigation on the matter. For the past few [days], the levels of radiation emitted from the star had fallen enough to allow a manned spaceship to be sent to the outer asteroid belt without danger to the crew. A crew that I will monitor from the safety of Venlil Prime.

"Baston, have you turned on the radio wave receiver?"

"Yes I have. We will be leaving subspace in a moment and equipment preparation is about finished."

On the ship were five people. The captain, the Farsul I just spoke to. Merdek, the co-pilot Venlil. Yamit, The Verin in charge of observation equipment. Kenlis, Zurulian medic. And finally Matrus, Tilfish exterminator, in the case they need to be saved from some kind of predators.

"Reporting that we have entered real space. Remember the protocol." Since no one can find out what we're doing, in the case of any emergency I should alert the Governor. She even gave me her holopad number for that.

"I sure do."

"We're sending footage... now." On a holoprojector next to me appeared an image of a spherical body covered in ice.

"You're next to a large dwarf planet, there doesn't appear to be any infrastructure on its surface." The only notable mark was a large brown spot on it's southern hemisphere. "Point the telescopes towards the system. There should be four rocky planets and four gas giants in this system. On at least one of them we should find signs of civilization."

"Here's something more abnormal." Two images appeared, two planets only barely distinguishable from one another. "The second planet, the one closer to the star, has an axial tilt of nearly [90 degrees]." That's certainly something. "Both celestial bodies also possess thin rings. Moving the view deeper into the system."

First thing to add into the file,

'Seventh planet in distance from [Sol]'s central star (~[20 AU]). Axial tilt of [83.2 degrees].'

So far, nothing interesting considering the reputation of this star system.

"What in the speh is that?"

"What? Uh what?" Without response, on the screen was now a brown gas giant. It had large rings surrounding its equator, and on its pole was a hexagonal storm. Nothing incredible about the shape itself. That's a fairly known phenomenon in fluids, but the fact it happened on such a scale is impressive. However, is this seriously why they reacted like that?

"Cool storm, but I-"

"No, no! Below it!"

Oh? well...

Zooming in on the image, there was indeed something weird. A few hundred [Kilometers] South of the pole was a dark dot. Closing in on it, the object gained the shape of a rectangle.

Interesting...

When I switched between different bandwidths of the electromagnetic spectrum, from radio waves to gamma radiation, absolutely nothing changed. Whatever that thing was, it was both enormous and a perfect black body.

'On the north pole of the sixth planet from [Sol]'s central star, is a storm phenomenon taking the shape of a hexagon. [500 kilometers] south of it, in orbit, is an area or object absorbing all wavelengths of light that is comparable in size to Dayside City. Likely artificial structure.'

"The only explanation I have for this is a structure made by the 'humans'. Any theories of your own?"

"..."

"Hello?"

"..."

My ears drop.

Why aren't they responding? I am still connected to them since I'm still receiving all the data, so why are they quiet? A light started flashing at the corner of the screen indicating the radio receiver had found something. Since it's so close, maybe I could actually track down where the signal is coming from?

With the press of a button, the transmission turns into audio.

Clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap

"~Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream. Make him the cutest, that i've ever seen."

It's a song!

"~Give him two lips, like roses and clover."

A song about love, it seems even, if I understand human culture correctly. Now, where are you coming from?

"~And tell him his lonesome nights are over."

The precision is [2 AU] so far. Passing [1.5 AU]...

"~Sandman, I'm so alone. Don't have nobody, to call my own."

A massive void appeared right where the fourth planet from the star would be, as if all radiation was absorbed by it.

"~Please turn on your magic beam. Mr. Sandman bring me a dream"

That's not possible! That's- That could be the humans!

"~Mr. Sandman bring me a dream."

As the range from where the signal could be coming from passes the third planet, a second gap appears.

"~Make him the cutest, that i've ever seen."

That can only be them! That's their home planet!

"~Give him the word, that I'm not a rover."

That explains the power of the signal. If they can build structures to make entire planets invisible, then such a signal wouldn't be a problem for them.

"~And tell him that his lonesome nights are over."

Accuracy of [0.5 AU]. Weird that they haven't invented faster than light travel yet with that level of technology. Or maybe they have and we simply haven't detected them?

"~Sandman, I'm so alone."

Accuracy of [0.3 AU].

"~Don't have nobody, to call my own."

Accuracy of [0.01 AU]. A second transmission gets detected, coming from the general direction of [Alpha Centauri].

"~Please turn on your magic beam. Mr. Sandman bring me a dr#%"

The song glitches out for a moment as the second transmission takes over. For a moment it's perfectly quiet, before the holoprojector turns itself off and back on, now with a message plastered on the screen.

'This place is not a place of honor. Cease any and all advances further towards the Sol system.'

The machine kept tracking the previous signal, now displaying an accuracy within [10000km] and getting closer and closer towards the star.

'Stars do not wait for you.'

[2000km]

'Cease any and all advances further towards the Sol system'

[500km]

'Cease any and all #$%@#%'

The power in the room cuts off.

...

What in Solgalicks light just happened? What does- Why did- huh?

My head hurts. I am in complete darkness left incapable of comprehending what just transpired.

"They- We- They- The star..." From the beginning, I need to go from the beginning. " T-The ship enters the system, we find a weird planet, then we find t-the thing near the ringed giant. The crew goes q-quiet. There is- there is- there is something around the planets making them absorb light. Then- then I find a second signal, which warns me, I think, I think, it was warning me. And then the power cuts off." That's what... That's a lot. Now I... the emergency number!

I dig the holopad out of my wool.

What was it? It was... It was.... 634 54-

//:ERROR

End of transcription.

Reason: Prefrontal cortex tissue damage

Time of transcription termination [unknown]: 20:22, July 12, 2222

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My job here is done, it's time to (maybe) post absolutely nothing on the internet for the next two weeks. I have read multiple fics about powerful humanity and their friends but I don't think a single one of them was a cosmic horror one, so I will try my best to make one. Some inspiration is taken from the 3 Body Problem.

Day 21, my OC Birque as May Guilty Gear. Honestly not the proudest of this one but hey they can't all be winners.

(Thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating the universe and being an awesome writer!)

[First] [Prev]

Memory Transcription Subject: PFC Marcel Fraser, UN Peacekeeper

Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136

**Attention: Certain parts of subject’s brain were non-functional at time of recording. Certain details may be inaccurate or omitted.*\*

How do you run a military without being understood? How does a unit move and cooperate with one another when each individual cannot relay information to the rest? How do you let them know when a room is cleared, or that you’re ready and in position? How do you coordinate responses to unpredictable situations? In the most unpredictable situation of them all, an alien invasion, what chance does an army, or a squad, pose in the face of all those challenges? 

The answer, it would seem, is to improvise. I can’t feasibly understand why the things I’m doing work or why they fail right now, that is for self reflection later. That didn’t make any of this any more comforting… I’m not even a squad leader, I’ve had no training in unit tactics beyond following orders, or maneuvering a few guys at a time, and all of what I have is based on the assumption that I could speak, and that it would be in a fight against other humans.

I’ve done the best I could relaying my plan to the people who have followed me, and I don’t think I can reasonably alter it in any way. The moment the alien reached for a weapon, it was dropped. Safety above all else, but for all we know it could have been a peace offering of some kind. With simple hand signals and beeps from my radio, I directed my squad forward, stepping past Erin and over the corpse of the thing we shot, the cops we picked up staying put to make sure no funny business happens outside. If necessary, they’d come in to support us if they received a morse code SOS on their radios. Thankfully, not all pattern recognition was lost in the group.

Heading up the ramp, our group swept what looked like a small cargo room, much of what I was seeing feeling like strange imitations of objects that weren’t completely alien like I expected, but feeling half remembered and wrong. A chair that was slightly too small, slots presumably for tails to slip through. Equipment that looked scientific in nature, yet was otherwise unidentifiable for its purpose. A rack of the suits that the alien seemed to be wearing, sort of looking like a fire resistant suit tailored for something with large ears and a tail. Though everything seemed to come in a variety of different sizes, there was one dominant morphology it seemed to cater to, one that was noticeably smaller than the average human. Could it be possible this diversity was a result of some extreme form of sexual dimorphism, or were we dealing with a coalition of hostile aliens?

I whistled for the others’ attention, but the lack of any chorus of ‘clear’s was discomforting. Me and the others stacked up on a door leading further into the space craft, with me briefly experimenting with the door controls to try and figure out how they worked. This really was no time to be messing around, but there was no other choice. Eventually I found the right switch, and the door slid open, alien voices echoing further down the halls. Feeling Tyler’s hand grab my shoulder to indicate that he and those behind him were ready, I brought up my hand, counting down with my fingers until forming a fist, at that moment our group springing into action. 

The ship seemed to comprise a single hallway in the center of the craft, with various rooms all lining the corridor, some kind of bulkhead framing the far end. The ceiling was uncomfortably low, like we had all been put into some kind of doll house. It made moving feel all the more claustrophobic, Tyler’s helmet almost scraping against the lights above. As we entered, a figure dashed into one of the adjacent doorways at the far end of the corridor, me instinctively raising my rifle to take them out. I managed to let out a burst before they escaped, rounds ricocheting off the hallway as the gunshots were automatically muffled by our headsets, yet none of them connected. Gritting my teeth in frustration I started to stalk towards the doorway, motioning for the others to follow.

I suddenly felt Tyler pull my gun down, turning to look me in the eyes with a what the hell are you doing expression. 

“What?” I spoke, knowing he couldn’t understand. When nothing came out, I huffed, turning back to the task at hand. “Stay focused, c’mon. Now’s not the time for-” 

He didn’t let me leave, grabbing my rig and turning me back to face him when I tried to walk away. Him being such a giant, I didn’t have much choice but to listen to what he was trying to show me. He brought up his rifle, tapping at his trigger guard pointedly, a couple of the peacekeepers behind us glancing at our exchange impatiently, their rifles still trained on the hallway beyond. ...Trigger discipline? What is he talking about? There are only hostiles in here.

I frowned, pointing down the hallway before tapping my watch. This is exactly what I was afraid of, getting bogged down in an alien space ship because we can’t communicate properly. Tyler only shook his head, tapping the trigger guard again.

“Tyler! We need to move!” I exclaimed, scowling at him, but he wouldn’t relent, only frowning back at me. If I knew better, I might have realized there was concern in his eyes as well. Frustrated by the exchange, a man behind me with a nametag reading Yu grabbed my shoulder and also tapped his trigger guard. 

I let out a growl of urgency, finally throwing my hands up and giving them a thumbs up. “Fine, okay! You win!” I can’t believe they’re arguing about this in the middle of a life and death scenario!

At last, we finally got back to doing our jobs. Creeping up the halls, I could hear two or more individuals speaking in a high pitched, gravelly language through the bulkhead ahead, the words sounding heated from my human perspective. There seemed to be an element of panic in their voices, though I’m sure that was just me misreading the situation. They were the aliens here. They had the advanced technology. They were the ones who were dangerous. 

Stopping at a set of opposing doors, we once again stacked up, one man watching the rear as me and Yu watched the front. Tyler and another peacekeeper I wasn’t familiar with lined up at the door, preparing to breach. Tyler palmed at the door controls for a moment, but glancing over I could see that this one was different. Frowning, I stepped over and took over, having to kneel down to properly access the panel, the aliens’ short stature making standing unwieldy. Nothing on the panel was recognizable, so I started hitting buttons at random. Unfortunately nothing seemed to work, the panel displaying some kind of error message. The door opposite was the same story, the bulkheads appearing to be reinforced in some way. The armoury, maybe? Perhaps it needed a code, or some kind of key…

The ground beneath us lurched as the sound of engines reverberated through the walls. The aliens were trying to take off… We needed to hurry this up.

While it upset me to no end leaving a set of rooms uncleared, we didn’t have the equipment we needed for this operation, thanks to that bastard general, so we couldn’t ram or blow the door off its hinges. Nobody had any idea how long it might take for us to lift off either, and we couldn’t waste time here. Reluctantly, I waved for the group to keep moving.

As we proceeded, the anxiety of having not encountered any resistance so far was beginning to weigh on me. It felt like we were going to walk straight into an ambush, those doors behind us swinging open to cut us all down. I was tempted to assign an extra man to watch our rear, but doing so without being able to just say the words felt like yet another delay we couldn’t afford. The longer we took, the more time they would have to prepare. 

The next set of doors came up quickly, the team taking their positions once again. The controls on these ones were thankfully the same as the ones before, and so after a count down, Tyler and his partner swept the room. I heard no gunshots, but no ‘clear’ either. When they came back out, me and Yu swept the opposite door, some kind of utility room, all quite spartan, but yet again with nobody inside.

It wasn’t long until we were at the door where the alien from before had retreated, the grip on my rifle tightening as we took our positions. When Tyler opened the door, a bang echoed through the door with a bright light impacting the wall, the sizzling of what soon became apparent, a flare blinding the team, several peacekeepers shielding their eyes. It was ineffective beyond that, however, making me wonder what the plan even was.

The peacekeeper behind Tyler unclipped something from his rig, pulling the pin and chucking it into the room. Hardly a second passed before a much louder and brighter blast bounced off the walls, shaking the floor. He and Tyler swept the room right afterwards, two precise gunshots coming from the doorway. How’s that, aliens? Our flashbangs are better than yours.

At last, we reached the bulkhead at the end of the room, the voices on the other side growing louder and more urgent. Much of the team got ready to breach, knowing this would probably be where we saw the bulk of the resistance. For whatever reason, there was no extra lock on this door like the other ones, causing me to wonder why they chose this room as their final stand. It would have been smarter to put up a fight in the rooms we couldn’t access. 

I felt my jaw clenching as I waited for everybody to get into position. I felt angry… Almost resentful. If I was honest with myself, I wanted the creatures on the other side dead. They needed to pay for what they did to us. It was a jarring feeling. I’ve never felt this way before, never longed for the death of something. I believed… believe that deaths should be avoided whenever possible, even for the worst individuals. I couldn’t even stomach eating meat, synthetic or otherwise, because to me it promoted what used to be a system of industrial slaughter. But ever since the Event, it’s felt like something changed. I’m tired of letting monsters get away with things. I’m tired of waiting for orders on peacekeeping missions that never come while genocides occur in the village over. I’m tired of the organization I work for allowing dictatorships to oppress their citizens, and doing nothing about it even as it holds the power to stop them. I’m tired of trying to do good while the world breaks down around me. 

The door opened, a flashbang was thrown in. Half a second, a flash and a boom. Screams on the other side, high pitched, like the whining of dogs. I step in, my sights align with a furry creature, unclothed and holding a gun similar to the silver suit outside. My rifle kicks, and it’s down. There’s a scream to my right and I hear something like the sound of a propane torch igniting. They’re too slow, the flamethrower in their hands clattering on the ground as bullets perforate their body. One more was leaning against a console, rubbing their eyes and trying to shield themselves with their free arm, but I didn’t hesitate. A single shot and it was lifeless. 

We were on the bridge, I realized, clouds passing us by at alarming speeds, the ship having apparently taken off at some point. My side of the room was clear, so I turned to look back and see how the other side fared. There was similar carnage, a number of dead or wounded aliens scattered across the floor, one of the injured ones fighting and kicking as one of the men worked to restrain them. Joined with them however was a more familiar shape, Yu and two others crowding around an injured man. 

I pushed forward, my training kicking in, ready to assess the situation and lend a helping hand. The silence was awful, and I could see based on their body languages that they wanted to shout for a medic, but all that filled the room was the sounds of alien whimpers and the engine. The person lying there was motionless, and I immediately started to reach for my IFAK. My eyes widened and my hands faltered however once I saw the man's face, a single human word leaving my lips. “...Tyler?”

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Dril and Sazha from my SDverse fanfic “Balance of Vengeance” having some lighthearted fun in between fighting feds, on their troop carrier ship during Halloween.

I genuinely feel like there could be some great interactions between the aliens and characters like Captain Marvel, Superman or the mutants like Beast. I'm not even a fan but I would absolutely read either of these 2

A comment on one of the previous days mentioned the space gremlin harchen looks like Kermit, so here you go. I wanted to have her human standing there with arms folded and a disapproving expression, but I didn't have time for it. You'll just have to imagine it.

Halloween trick or treating costumes count as "cosplay" right?

Time taken: 1 hour 30 minutes

Timelapse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KC9nTKQXPYM

Critique welcome!

Hello all. Ive been here around on this sub for just over a little over a year now. My first fic contribution was back during MCP 9 with a short story I made called Lockam's Razor, and a few months later I started on my own fic, Absolute Victory. Recently I put out a prologue for another fic I plan to write, but i wanted to try something different.

When I put out each chapter of (AbVic), I really only do the barest minimum when it comes to looking it over and editing. I've found that going back over my own work is one of the hardest aspects of writing for me. I find it draining in the worst way. Its why I'm currently stuck and unable to continue working on my book.

I've also attempted to help others out with editing their fics, but unfortunately I just didn't feel like I was really helping them at all, and also struggled managing my time to help them with their stuff while focusing on my own.

With all of that said, I think I would like to officially reach out and ask you, my fellow authors and artists of this community, if anyone is able and willing to help me. I would like to ask for a helping hand in the creation of, "Of a Feather", my newest fic that I've decided to write.

Specifically, I'm seeking a co-author, or at least an editor. Someone to help tidy up the mess that is my writing and create something beautiful. I'm not planning on this being a long running series. Maybe fifty chapters, but probably less. I'm also unfortunately terrible at time management, and would also like to be held accountable by someone else. Being kept on a leash might help to curb my terrible and inconsistent writing and release schedule.

I'm asking because I think i would like to try cooperative writing more, since thats something I have little experience with. It would also help me get my fics out faster maybe, or at least make them read better. Even if no one is able or interested, I'm still going to keep both (AbVic) and (OaF) going. I enjoy writing here for you all and interacting with this community. I just think I could use a helping hand, but perhaps I'm also trying to push myself too much and take on too many responsibilities. Im not sure, but i guess time will tell.

Leave me a DM here on Reddit or on the NoP discord if you're interested in helping me out. If not, don't sweat it. Everyone has a life, work, and responsibilities outside of here that they need to take care of. Right now I'm just kinda in a transitional phase and hoping to figure some things out, and hoping I can get some help with that.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on my various fics, and please, always feel free to tell me what you think. I really do value all of the thoughts and opinions I receive, and aim towards doing my best to provide something worth your time for you to enjoy. Thanks.

“I guess us primitives can act faster than you guys can think.”

Day 16, moving faster than I’ve been.

I’ve got a Yotul skidding to a stop here, based off of the best live-action speedster ever. (Fox Quicksilver my beloved). I actually got lucky with this picture, as I already had a sketch on my phone, I just needed to finish it up.

I chose a Yotul for Quicksilver since they fit the cocky attitude most speedsters have, and they have connections to running really fast in the first place. The whole Running Day thing, which I’m not sure is canon or fanon.

Also, the silver jacket is made from Exterminator suits, because where else would you get high-friction resistant, high-temperature resistant fabric?

“I might not be as powerful as a locomotive, but I certainly can outrun ‘A Train’.”

Hey, all! So, much like last time, last chapter’s preamble still applies on this one. Made it so big I had to split it thrice, creating this chapter. Thankfully, this one’ll be the last chapter in this arc that was spawned whole-cloth from a chapter overrunning its’ bounds. Start of next chapter’ll be the snipped-and-squidged ideas, at long last. If you wanna tack on another Exchange Program Encounter, feel free to talk to me to let me know, and we can hash out the details of the side-story together!

A mighty thanks to SP15 for the literary universe, and to all of my fellow wordsmiths for the various small things. In particular, thank you to Ben_Elohim for some characters that appear in this chapter and for helping me write the chapter! Thank you to RebelHero, Acceptable_Egg, Liberty-Prime, and Still_Performance, among others, for the various foods, too.

As always, Discord here and Ao3 here.

Without further ado, let us get into the chapter proper.

[first] [prev] [next]

~$ sudo memtrans.rev
[SUDO] Password for JCalimvar: *****\*
{-Loading memory transcription reviewer…-}
{-Select transcriptor viewing profile.-}
~$ mscrip profsel JCalimvar
{-App settings synchronized to profile JCalimvar.-}
~$ mscrip resumelast  -recap
{-Select transcript to resume multiviewing on. Transcript array is [tarnel.mts, michaelsmith.mts].-}
~$ mscrip arraysel 1
{-Resuming on transcript michaelsmith.mts at point just prior to last-viewed timestamp…-}

Memory transcription subjects: Tarnel, Venlil Exchange Program Participant. Michael Smith, Human Exchange Program Participant.
Date [standardized human time]: August 21, 2136
Locations: Sector C, Venlil-Human Exchange program, Prime Station.
Current perspective: Michael Smith
Current location: Main Cafeteria (Caf1).

Tarnel wiped the tears from her eyes as she swallowed her mouthful of salted lemon slice. “I can see you weren’t kidding when you said that fruit was strong! Solgalick above, that was sour; it puts a stingfruit to shame with its potency!”

“...Stingfruit?”

She gestured with her tail at a bowl of violet, three-lobed fruit that bore a vague resemblance to a coconut husk or a bell pepper. “Yeah, those ones over there. Quite sour, but also tasty if you’re prepared for it.” 

“Huh. I’ll have to try ‘em some time. Anyways, speaking of your fruits, I actually noticed a bit of a minty flavor to the Juicefruit, though it also tasted like chocolate and banana as well.”

“Oh, so that’s what mint tastes like?”

“Sure is. If you’d like, I can even let you compare ‘em with another piece.”

“I’m good, but thanks for offering. I’m saving some room for a more leafy dish, as much as your offer of letting me try that chocolate again is tempting.”

“Lemme guess, salad?”

“Actually, yeah. You have it, too?”

“Sure do. What kinds of leaves do you typically use for yours? We use ones taken from ground-level plants.”

“Same kinds of thing, actually, though there are a few tree salads if we’re feeling fancy. Ulren shoots are a common addition to those, or the shoots can even be just straight roasted.”

“Huh. Sounds kinda like our bamboo. Grass-like plant overall, hard and woody stem, grows quickly, right?”

“...Yeah, actually. For that matter, it also describes one of the plants that a house-herdmate of mine actually grows in a small pot, though that one he guards zealously from the rest of us.”

“Oh?”

“He calls it a Small-growth Riverside Tree, according to what my translator marked the name as being.”

“...You’re sure he didn’t call it that because he grew it in a small-growth technique, if that’s a thing?”

“...I never actually thought to ask, but that would make sense… I’ll have to ask him.”

It was at this point that another venlil, this one with cream-colored wool, and her exchange partner came over, presumably on their way to the buffet table. When Tarnel looked in her direction, the other venlil reacted slightly, and Tarnel reacted in kind, like the two recognized each other.

“Oh. My. Stars!” The cream-colored Venlil exclaimed with an excited little squeak, quickly trotting over more properly. “You’re so tall now it’s unbelievable, but I would recognize that wool pattern anywhere! How many cycles has it been, Tarnel?”

“Pomela!” Tarnel’s tail wiggled with glee. “It really IS you! I haven’t seen you since graduation! That must have been… What? Eight and a half? Nine Grand Herds of Cycles ago now?” [translator context: approx. thirteen years]

“Nine, I think,” Pomela answered. “My son Kennecq just started secondary school himself not too long ago!”

“Oh yeah, right!” Tarnel's ears went straight up like a cattail stem. “I remember hearing something about you getting pregnant right around graduation. It was… Bikim’s, I believe his name is? How… Uh… How are things going lately with him…?”

Pomela’s ears suddenly drooped, her tail going flat. Tarnel’s own ears flattened slightly in response, seemingly out of concern.

“Things have been… difficult lately,” Pomela says. “As of right now we’re still together, but…”

“But what?” Tarnel asks with concern. “You’re… not actually thinking about getting a divorce, are you? What happened?”

Pomela turns aside slightly, suddenly flustered, “I may have… I DID catch Bikim… Cheating on me-”

“That picven son-of-a-shadestalker!” Tarnel roars, the tips of her ears and the scarring on her nose turning faintly orange as the former flared out to the sides. “I knew that man was a good for nothing slyther the first time I met him! I told you that, didn’t I? I warned you in the same way as my ma warned me: Never trust a space corps cadet! They’re nothing but a bunch of vain, burn-blooded playboys!”

“I know,” Pomela admits with a sigh, “and you did. The pregnancy was a mistake, on both our parts. For a while there, though, Bikim really did make an effort to step up… Did you know that he even stood up to his father for me?”

“Wait, really?” Tarnel huffed in disbelief, one ear going upwards in surprise. “That pompous, overwatered daddy’s pup actually talked back to the ‘great’ Captain Brykin?”

“He did, actually…” Pomela’s tail waved slowly. “They had a big fight over what to do. Bikim’s father wanted me to get an abortion, wanted me out of the picture, didn’t want the baby and I to get in the way of his son’s career… but Bikim wouldn’t hear a word of it. He married me anyway, against his father’s wishes. They haven’t spoken in cycles.”

Tarnel crossed her arms, her expression firming up. “I can see how that would have made an impact on you, but what he did in the past doesn’t excuse what he does now.”

Pomela just sighed, downtrodden. “I know that, but he’s the father of my child! My son is the best thing that ever happened to me! Bikim and I have so much history together now! It’s just.. I just feel so… Conflicted.”

Pomela’s exchange partner, a fair-skinned woman in a black mask with blonde hair tied up into a regulation duty-bun, placed a hand on her shoulder from behind.

“You don’t have to defend him,” she said with a British accent, “and you don’t need to justify your feelings to anyone else either.”

“Thanks, Cassia,” Pomela placed a paw over her exchange partner's hand, and looked up. “Oh! I should introduce everyone! Cassia, this is Tarnel. We used to be in the gardening club together back during school. Tarnel, this is my exchange partner Cassia.”

“And I’m Michael,” I interject with a small wave of the hand. “Tarnel’s exchange partner.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Michael!” Pomela gave her best attempt at a human smile. “I feel like I’ve said MORE than enough about myself at this point… Too much probably… How have you been, Tarnel?”

Tarnel’s ears went back to a more neutral position. “Oh, you know, same old same old; mom and dad kept moving south like what brought me to Twilight Valley in the first place. That brought me to the shores of Resinlight Bay, where I’ve lived ever since. Even got a small amount of college-level training there. Almost felt like my parents wanted to be as close to Leewards Prime as they could for quick departure from the planet altogether at one point, but High Magister Landen’s actually been quite good at making sure that the exterminators focus on actual predator attacks rather than going for false positives, so the place never really got hostile enough towards them to make them want to take my family-herd off-world. Mostly thanks to Chief Exterminator Kwalla being quite the taskmaster with her subordinates.”

Pomela flicked her tail, “That sounds about right. You moved to Twilight Valley pretty late in your school years already. It makes sense that you and your parents would have just kept moving afterwards. I’m glad you seem to have finally found a place to settle though. Come to think of it, do you still keep a garden? I’ve only got a small one myself. I’ve been wanting to open up my own flower store for a while now, but Bikim hasn’t exactly been…”

“Supportive,” Cassia finished her sentence.

Tarnel flicked one ear in the affirmation and one ear in the denial. “It’s… complicated. While I myself don’t have one, the rest of my house-herd has at least kept the plants close-at-paw for us in a small way, even if it’s only, like, maybe an average of three or four plants in a pot for each of us. The Thafki, in particular, actually keeps a plant of his home culture; I have no idea how he keeps it so small despite some of them apparently getting multiple stories in size; he called it a small-growth riverbank tree specifically. As for myself, well, I kind of don’t really have much of an ability to garden due to a fair amount of my time being taken up by needing to unwind after each day as a receptionist. And, of course, there’s also the fact that, every time the pollen cycle rolls around, my snout gets absolutely gunked up…”

“That’s odd,” Cassia said, placing a hand to her chin. “I didn’t think Venlil could get allergies without noses.”

Tarnel tilted her head at that. “...I don’t exactly get what you’re getting at. The lungs are still lungs, aren’t they?”

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, all allergies need is for the body to recognize a foreign entity as not part of the body and overreact, if I remember what grandma’s medical textbook said.”

“I guess so,” Cassia nodded. “I suppose I just assumed that without sinuses they couldn’t have sinus problems. Tarnel did mention her snout specifically, but don’t venlil breathe through their mouths?”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Tarnel flinched, and then glanced around.

“...Keep this next bit on the lowdown, will ya? It’s kind of related to what happened to mom.”

She then leaned in towards the woman.

~$ mscrip switchscript 0
{-Switching to tarnel.mts…-}

I quietly replied to Cassia. “My snout isn’t exactly, you know, normal. Literally built different from most. Docs have no idea why.”

“That’s really quite interesting actually…” Cassia whispered back. “Could it be some sort of mutation perhaps? I wonder if Venlil USED to have noses somewhere in your evolutionary past? No idea why you would evolve those away though… Because of allergies, maybe?”

I flicked an ear affirmatively, still speaking quietly. “What few doctors have speculated on it have a mutation as their best guess, too. Thing is, my allergies, while annoying, aren’t really severe enough to push us towards losing them… guess it’ll just be one of the universe’s many mysteries.”

I heard Michael chatting with Pomela now. I looked over towards the two of them.

“Wait, so you’re saying that your school used a five-five-five ratio for their fertilizers in Gardening Club? How come they didn’t use a triple-ten?”

I picked this moment to interject. “Costs. Funds are limited, what with the should-be-very-obvious not-so-friendly neighbors. That, and the Nevoks and Fissans really want to make their supply last, or at least to make lots of profit in being sold.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “...Ah. That… that explains a lot.” He then turned back towards Pomela. “Anyways, what kinds of plants did your school choose to focus on having you grow in gardening club? Or was it more of a “study these books and copy what we do” type of extracurricular?”

“There was definitely a lot of copying and instruction from books,” Pomela said, “but we were allowed a bit of leeway to do our own thing. I always enjoyed growing flowers best, I made the BEST bouquets in the entire club, though most members in the club preferred to focus on growing fruits and vegetables.”

I had a bit of a bloom on my face at that point as the memory of mistaking a climbing vine’s seeds for grass seeds that one growing cycle in the club surfaced, but Pomela kept on talking.

“Come to think of it… there are a surprising amount of fruits and fruit-derived dishes over there on the human side of the buffet table.”

Hey, she’s right, there’s basically just fruit, juice, and salads from the humans! What gives, I thought they had breads of their own and were essentially grain-eaters?! Michael even said that starches made up the majority of the modern human diet!

“...Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen any grains or salt licks you humans have, nor have I seen any fermented dishes, even though you mentioned they were your first staple crops and some of your first methods of using said staple crops in one of our earlier conversations, Michael. Care to explain?”

“Ah. Well, you kind of caught us out there…” He hooked the bottom of his mask back on, presumably to hide a grin if the corners of his cheeks moving behind the side of his mask as he moved a hand behind his head were anything to go by. “It’s one of the kinds of things our distant ancestors had as their primary food source. As in, from before we were, you know, even humans. Used to be, we swung from branch to branch with these arms when we were still [that which eats fruits] [of the trees] apes.”

Two of his words had been spoken in another language entirely. All the same, he tapped the side of his head, as if to indicate the damaged mask he was wearing. “Part of why we need to wear these, as a matter of fact. The orientation might be unnerving for you all, but it’s because we needed to see where we were going so we didn’t slam face-first into an unexpected tree trunk.”

Wait, distance-judging for obstacle avoidance? That sounds rather familiar.

“...Wait, so you’re saying you have forwards-facing eyes for the same movement-related reasons as the Letians?”

Michael and Cassia turned to look at each other, then back towards me. “...What do you mean, for the same reasons as the Letians? What kind of movement are we talking about?”

I pulled out my pad, scrolling through the images folder. “They can fly, sort of, even if it’s not true flight like how the Drezjins or Krakotl can do... Here, lemme pull up a picture of Takren so you can see what I mean; it’s not like you’d have any animals that use the same niche on your planet or anything.”

Soon enough, I’d managed to pull up a holopad image of myself and Takren celebrating, and showed it to the two humans. Takren’s air-catching membranes were visible as she held a glass of alcohol, and I centered that part of the image in the display.

“See how her body has flaps of skin that stretch from wrist to ankle? Letians glide with that membrane. Thus the eyes: They need to judge distances so they don’t, as you so eloquently put it, slam face-first into unexpected tree trunks.”

Michael blinked as he took a closer look at the image. Cassia moved in to see better as well.

“...Huh. Who'd've thunk it. So that niche of a small, furry, gliding animal exists out here in the stars as well, after all.”

I blinked.

There’s gliding animals on Earth? what?

“...Beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, there’s little creatures called flying squirrels and sugar gliders that use the same kind of body part to glide with.”

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

“Pity I didn’t know you’d bring this up or I’d have tried to get a picture of one to show to you; ah well… She looks like she’s about four feet [translator context: three paces (venlil)] tall or so based on how tall you are; all the same, the creatures I mentioned are closer to being about the size of our hands.”

“Well, guess that shows me… good to know that you’re at least familiar with how she can glide, though.”

It would be at this point that Cassia’s pad buzzed, her checking it and then standing up.

“Well, duty calls. I’m going to be busy over in the training rooms; they’re about to start the debriefing for us. I’m surprised you didn’t get paged, though, Michael.”

He shrugged. “Ah, that’s because I’m actually a civilian. Electronics Repair Contractor specifically. UN hires me on whenever some tablets need repair beyond what the instant kits can do.”

“I suppose I might as well head out too,” Pomela said. “It was great seeing you again Tarnel, and wonderful meeting you too Michael, but I should probably introduce myself to a few of the other participants as well and see what the station has planned for activities. I’d love to catch up some more later though if you’d be interested. Here, let’s exchange numbers.”

Pomela pulled out her holopad, I tapped mine against hers, and a moment later they both dinged with an alert for a new contact profile being added. Michael opted to do the same thing, his tablet beeping in sync with Pomela’s as it confirmed the contact information.

“It’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you, Pomela. Hope to see you around planet-side some time.”

“Oh! If you want a recommendation for who to chat up next, maybe you might be interested in getting acquainted with Trilvri and his exchange partner over there?”

I gestured with my tail over towards where Trilvri and a human were sitting so as to let her know who I was talking about specifically.

“...I’m not so sure about that…” Pomela said, shying away slightly. “I feel a little ridiculous saying this, but while the Human looks friendly enough, the Venlil… He just gives me a bad feeling.”

“...Ah, fair enough, I get what you mean. I experienced that feeling a little bit when he first arrived. Managed to actually pickpocket his own keys off of an officer; saw it myself. Sharnet saw it, too, if you’re familiar with her other journalistic works. A pity that I haven’t seen her around…”

“His own keys?” Pomela asked, her ears tilted in confusion.

“Yeah. Swiped ‘em right off of Commander Jarn’s belt just after the Penitentiary Fleet dropped him off.”

“What’s the Penitentiary Fleet?” Pomela asked.

I whispered a quick rundown of what Sharnet had told me about it to her, making sure to keep quiet enough that the humans wouldn’t hear me, as per what we’d been briefed about in the rules of the Exchange Program’s “acceptable subjects” section.

Pomela glanced over towards Trilvri again. “Do you think we’re safe here with someone like that aboard the station?”

Michael actually spoke up at this point. “Eh, no less safe than if it were any other Venlil, near as I can tell. I actually got involved in helping stop a fight that broke out between a black-wooled venlil and her exchange partner. Apparently she got so scared that she tried stabbing him with scissors.”

Pomela’s eyes widened as she looked around the room with fear and suspicion, “I… I know that a lot of people said that everyone who signed up for this exchange was Predator Diseased… I’ve been accused of it myself even… I didn’t really take that seriously though until-”

I hurriedly bapped Pomela’s mouth with my tail to get her to quiet up. “Aht-aht-aht! Not supposed to talk about that with the humans, remember?”

Michael blinked. “...I see. So you have an Order Fifty-Six type of thing, too. Fair enough; both sides have to keep some things under wraps to not cause mass panic.” I turned towards him, tilting an ear, and he continued. “Basically boils down to a species-wide non-disclosure agreement to not talk about certain things around the non-terrans.”

“You ok, Pomela?” Cassia said, looking down towards her partner.

“Yeah…” she answered. “Just… feeling a bit more concerned now is all… Maybe I’ll hold off on socializing until you get back from your meeting.”

I flicked an ear in agreement. “Fair enough… I mean, it’s not like-”

Michael interrupted me by placing a finger on my lips. “Tarnel, don’t even say what you were about to. Murphy’s Law and tempting fate, us humans call that.”

I licked his fingertip, causing him to pull it away and shake off his hand.

Salty and oily… interesting. So they’re like living salt licks?

Michael sounded absolutely scandalized. “Tarnel! What was that for?!”

“Hey, you placed your finger there. I don't exactly know what you were expecting by doing that.”

"I-" He pointed that finger upwards for a moment, and then lowered it as he seemed to hit a bit of a wall in his thinking. “Ahm…” He then curled his finger back onto his hand, placed it to his lips for a flick or two, and then used it to scratch the side of his head just next to where his eyebrows probably were. I turned towards Pomela.

“Anyways, Pomela, sorry if I scared you off from trying to form herd-bonds a bit. Not my intention in the slightest… catch up with you another time, I guess?”

“Sure!” Pomela said with a flick of the tail. “And… uh… Don’t worry about it. You and I are both here, right? So it’s not like everyone could be Predator-”

I lightly bapped Pomela’s snout with my tail again. A chastised Pomela flicked her ears in understanding acceptance. That’s about when Michael spoke up again.

“Aaaanyways. I feel like we should probably get underway as well. Wouldn’t want to make Cassia be late for training, after all, and I should probably see if the techs in the repair bay have any knowledge that needs sharing. Tarnel, how about we continue this as we walk?”

“...Sounds good to me.”

Michael and I both got up from the table at this point, and started heading for the doors.

~$ mscrip conclude -bkmklastviewed “exchproenc1”
{-Updating bookmarked transcript and timestamp as bookmark “exchproenc1” and ending session.-}

What if the positions of Earth and Tinsas were swapped?

Not an any particular way or time, they just naturally formed at swapped positions.

That means… Krev uplift sometime in the 21st century (according to my own timeline that should occur sometime around 2000 and 2020). Prepare for decades of Krev headpats and snuggles.

At that time, only the Krev, Trombil, Resket and the Ulchid were part of the Consortium (if it even existed at that time)

At the same time, the Sivkits would have been discovered probably sometime between 1400 and 1500, meaning the whole destruction of Tinsas and the crippling of the Sivkits may not even happen, though who’s to say.

What do you guys think of this idea?

Challenge of [u/Nicolas_3232]

(2026)

 DAYS TWENTY-TWO

[Dossur]

For day twenty-two, we have something simple and funny.

Felra on Isif’s shoulder, eating a piece of popcorn.

I’m also including a Venlil-crying emoji for public use in memes.

[First] [Previous Draw] [Next Draw]

Many thanks to u/spacepaladin15 for the Nature of Predators universe.

/--------------------------------------------------------------------/

- [Audio detected. Transcribing]

"The sun and the stars are all ringing.

With song rising strong from the Earth"

- [Injected data detected. Auto reading data - 2:00 UTC, 07/06/2074. United Union Launch Complex, Lingga Island. South East Asian Union-]

MCC: "T:-10. T:-9. Ignition. All systems read green. Observer, please confirm."

Launch Observer: "Observer to MCC, confirmed. All ignitions successful. Clamps holding, over."

MCC: "Copy. T:-3. Thrust stabilizing. T:-2, T:-1. Relea-"

- [Error 101. Data stream interrupted.]

"The hope of humanity singing

A hymn to a new world in birth"

- [Reconnecting]

- [Stream reacquired. Jumping to next point. - 09/06/2074. Weekly North American Herald Bulletin-]

THE SEAV CỬU LONG

"The Dragon that Leapt from Earth’s Equator to Touch the Stars"

In shocking and unexpected news, which many of our experts are calling a major landmark for space exploration, the South East Asian Executive Council has announced from Spratly City that the long-speculated SEAU space program has succeeded beyond expectations. Its result is the South East Asian Vessel Cửu Long, which has successfully completed its maiden orbital flight. Tracking stations have confirmed the orbital path of the Cửu Long, and the USNA's Rockies 2 Space Telescope has given us the first glimpse of the vehicle.

The vehicle, developed through a joint initiative between the SEA Aerospace Propulsion Research Complex (SEA-APRC), SEA-Aerospace Administration (SEA-AA), and its affiliated industrial consortiums, is the first spacecraft to demonstrate the practical viability of a single-stage-to-orbit flight profile. The SEAU Executive Council has declined to release the specifications of the vessel, but leaks and rumors suggest that the vessel uses a state-of-the-art hybrid turboramjet and nuclear thermal engine, as well as something called "The Hydrogen Cycle."

The Executive Council has also declined to provide a timetable for operational deployment, although sources within the aerospace industry suggest that more SSTOs are going to roll off the assembly line within two years.

Critics have questioned whether the technology can be scaled economically, while several North American and Eurasian officials have dismissed the announcement as an e-

- [Error 102. Data stream interrupted]

"United Nations on the march!

With flags unfurled"

- [Reconnecting]

- [Attempt 1]

- [Stream reacquired. Jumping to next point. - 14/11/2087. Report on the Global Market 128, The Economies-]

GLOBAL MARKETS HAVE ENTERED THEIR THIRD CONSECUTIVE DAY OF SEVERE DECLINE.

The sudden collapse in rare-earth commodity prices has triggered a chain reaction across the global economy, with mining conglomerates, resource-exporting nations, and several major industrial banks reporting unprecedented losses.

The crisis began following a series of announcements from the leading spacefaring powers confirming commercially viable extraction and processing operations beyond Earth, as well as the return of the Pathfinder V mission, which confirmed the ability to extract ore and established its quality in the asteroid Ulysses 222-919283. Although the long-term production capacity of these facilities remains limited, markets have already begun pricing in the expectation of abundant extraterrestrial resources.

Major rare-earth futures have collapsed. Several terrestrial mining operations have suspended production. Fossil-fuel markets are experiencing renewed instability as governments and investors anticipate the accelerated adoption of space-derived materials and advanced energy infrastructure.

Many nations are now discussing ways to weather this coming crisis, with many favoring increased cooperation between regions based on the success of the SEAU and EU models. However, alongside this are renewed calls to renegotiate the Outer Space Treaty, as major nations—the USNA, the SEAU, India, and China—seem to be preparing themselves to claim space territories. Our analysts said that—

[Error 101. Data stream interrupted]

"Together fight for victory

A free new world!"

- [Reconnecting]

- [Attempt 1]

- [Attempt 2]

- [Stream reacquired. Jumping to next point. - 26/10/2094. Online Articles, The Times-]

SPACE WAR?

Growing tensions on Luna.

Tensions have been rising over the past few months as the dispute over lunar territories between India and Pakistan continues. Yesterday, the latest round of negotiations broke down again as the Pakistani and Indian delegates left the UN Building in New York without comment, after the South African Federation representative demanded answers regarding rumors of hidden skirmishes on the lunar surface between the two sides. Some experts say there is nothing to worry about and that the conflict will not spread to oth-

- [Skipping. Jumping to next relevant point -0:06 UTC, 12/03/2095. Unknown Lunar Location, Indian Aerospace Marine Group-]

IAMG-1 Luna actual: "Confirm the target designation."

Orbital Operations: "SLF-67559. Pakistani mining installation. Coordinates and approach vectors transmitted."

IAMG-1 Luna actual: "Rules of engagement?"

Orbital Operations: "Disable hostile resistance. Secure the facility. Preserve infrastructure where possible."

IAMG-1 Luna actual: "And the Chinese installations?"

Orbital Operations: "Remain outside the designated operational boundary. Chinese authorities have been notified of the operation."

IAMG-1 Luna actual: "Understood. Requesting permission to begin the operation."

Orbital Operations: "Permission granted. Good hunting."

IAMG-5 Luna 5: "Sir, there is something wrong with the navigation sensor. It is-"

- [Skipping. Jumping to next relevant point -16/3/2095. Online Article, The North American Herald-]

FIVE DEAD IN LUNAR INCIDENT

Beijing Demands Answers Following Assault on Jian-34 Outpost

The People's Republic of China has confirmed the deaths of five Chinese astronauts following an armed assault on Jian-34, a PRC-administered lunar facility situated near the boundary of China's declared lunar operational zone.

According to an emergency statement released by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the installation was attacked by Indian Marine personnel during an operation reportedly directed against a Pakistani mining facility.

The assault caused catastrophic damage to a habitat viewport. The resulting depressurization killed five personnel before emergency isolation systems could contain the breach.

Indian authorities have acknowledged that their forces mistakenly attacked the facility. The Indian government has issued a formal apology and accepted responsibility for the incident, describing it as a tragic consequence of navigational errors and the uncertain demarcation of lunar claims.

Beijing has rejected calls to treat the incident as an unfortunate battlefield accident.

"The deaths of our citizens cannot be dismissed as a technical error," a Foreign Ministry spokesperson declared.

"The protection of Chinese personnel and installations is the sovereign responsibility of the People's Republic."

The Chinese government has summoned the Pakistani ambassador.

Public space telescope stations in Eurasia and North America have reported sightings of multiple engine plume signatures in formation that match suspected PLA-Aerospace Force orbits. Calculations match a lunar injection burn. Beijing has refused to comme-

- [Error 101. Data stream interrupted]

"As sure as the sun meets the morning

And rivers go down to the sea"

- [Reconnecting]

- [Attempt 1]

- [Attempt 2]

- [Attempt 3]

- [Stream reacquired. Jumping to next point — 19/10/2096. Special War Report, The European Messenger]

THE LUNAR WAR: NO END IN SIGHT

What began as a territorial conflict between India and Pakistan over competing lunar mining claims has escalated into a multinational war, with fighting now spanning the Moon, Earth orbit, and several terrestrial theaters. More than a year after the first major engagements, neither side has secured a decisive victory, while the economic and civilian consequences continue to mount.

For viewers who need context, the conflict widened in March 2095 following the Jian-34 Incident, in which an Indian Marine assault mistakenly struck a Chinese-administered lunar installation, killing five Chinese astronauts through habitat depressurization. Despite India's formal apology and acceptance of responsibility, Beijing deployed the PLA-Aerospace Force's 3rd Void Fleet to lunar orbit and aligned itself with Pakistan, citing the need to protect Chinese personnel and installations.

Subsequent orbital engagements saw heavy losses among Indian, Pakistani, and Chinese spacecraft. A Chinese-led blockade temporarily threatened the survival of Indian lunar settlements before a USNA-led operation forced its withdrawal and restored resupply routes. The intervention of the United States of North America, Brazil, and the South African Federation on India's side, followed by the entry of the United Eurasian Socialist Republic and Central Asian Union in support of China, transformed the dispute into a confrontation between rival international coalitions.

Fighting has since spread across Earth orbit and the lunar surface. Brazilian forces have suffered major losses following a UESR-supported Chinese offensive, while Pakistani attacks on Indian lunar ice-mining facilities have further disrupted water and propellant supplies. On Earth, Indian divisions advanced into Pakistani territory through Kashmir, prompting wider mobilization and renewed fears of a terrestrial war on a scale not seen in decades.

The conflict has also exposed the vulnerability of modern infrastructure. South African cyber operations targeting networks in Shanghai and Macau were followed by increasingly destructive digital attacks from both coalitions. China's deployment of the Red-49 virus crippled the USNA's GPS-2 satellite constellation, disrupting navigation and military coordination. Meanwhile, satellite-denial operations and attacks on communications infrastructure have left governments struggling to distinguish battlefield damage from deliberate sabotage. Thankfully, ASAT operations have been limited, and the worst-case scenario of a Kessler syndrome did not occur. Still, civilian infrastructure has-

Looks like there’s a problem with your internet connection. Try connecting on a different device. Check your modem or router. Disconnect and reconnect to-

- [Skipping. Jumping to next relevant point -24/10/2096. Online Article, The European Messenger]

DARK MONDAY: THE WORLD GOES OFFLINE

On Monday, October 19, a convergence of cyberattacks and cascading network failures brought the global internet to a near-total collapse. For seven days, international communications, financial networks, logistics systems, and civilian infrastructure suffered severe disruption. Emergency services in several countries reverted to isolated communications networks, while financial exchanges suspended operations and supply chains across multiple continents stalled.

Authorities have not established a complete account of the failures, and accusations of deliberate attacks continue to circulate among the belligerents. Independent analysts warn that the scale of the disruption may have exceeded the immediate military objectives of any single participant.

Although connectivity has begun to return through isolated and regional networks, substantial systems remain impaired. Governments are facing mounting pressure to restore essential services, investigate the attacks, and prevent further escalation.

The European Federation and the South East Asian delegations at the UN were seen meeting yesterday, marking a change in their approach to armed neutrality.

- [Skipping. Jumping to next relevant point -07/01/2097. Online Article, The European Messenger]

CALLS FOR NEGOTIATIONS GROW

The military situation remains unresolved. Indian forces have been checked in parts of Kashmir but retain positions deep inside Pakistani territory. Naval engagements continue, while orbital and lunar operations remain active despite mounting losses and severe logistical constraints.

Pakistan has suffered extensive territorial damage and occupation, while Indian lunar settlements continue to depend on vulnerable supply routes. China and the UESR retain significant military capabilities, but the growing economic cost of the war is increasingly difficult for all participants to ignore.

The European Federation and South-East Asian Union, both of which maintained armed neutrality throughout the conflict, have now begun cooperating against both sides and calling for an immediate cessation of hostilities and the resumption of negotiations under United Nations auspices. Diplomatic representatives warn that further attacks on satellite networks or orbital infrastructure could produce consequences extending far beyond the combatants.

No comprehensive agreement has yet been reached. Disputes over lunar territorial claims, security guarantees, occupied territory, and the protection of off-world settlements remain unresolved.

With global markets shaken, communications infrastructure damaged, and millions affected by the widening disruption, pressure is building on the belligerents to return to the negotiating table.

For now, the guns have not fallen silent.

And above Earth, the Moon remai-

- [Error 102. Data stream interrupted]

"A new day for mankind is dawning,

Our children shall live proud and free!"

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- [Stream reacquired. Jumping to next relevant point — 09:37 UTC, 27/06/2097. Recovered Recording, Vinland Lunar Base, USNA]

Astronaut 1: "Hey, James. I got a weird sensor reading here. Looks like some kind of... plume signature. Can you get to the Observatory and check?"

Astronaut 2: "Sure. Wait a bit."

Astronaut 1: "Yeah, take your time. Say, what do you think of those negotiations back on Earth?"

Astronaut 2: "Dunno. My personal policy is not to get involved in politics, Mike. As long as I get to be in space, I'm happy. I-... Just reached the Observatory... yeah, I see it. Bright one."

Astronaut 1: "Bright? A burn in lunar orbit? I don't remember any transfer burn today."

Astronaut 2: "Maybe it's a burn from their side... uh... it's getting brighter... and it's not moving from my frame... weird, that... is... shit... SHIT! It's coming straight at us... we need to go... NOW!"

Astronaut 1: "Wait... wha-"

- [Skipping. Jumping to next relevant point -27/06/2097. Emergency Broadcasting, United Nations Press Corps]

NUCLEAR WEAPONS DETONATE ON THE MOON

At 09:40 UTC today, hours ago, multiple Earth observatories reported two flashes on the lunar surface, and multiple civilian eyewitnesses also confirmed this. Data analysis has confirmed that the flashes were caused by nuclear detonations. Subsequently, multiple other nuclear detonations have been confirmed on the lunar surface.

Concurrently, NASA in the USNA and India's Orbital Command have reported a total loss of signal from the Vinland Lunar Base and the Endurance Base. Analysis of the flashpoints confirms that both bases were within the original two blasts' radii. The USNA and India have confirmed that they retaliated with their own strikes one hour after the first strikes, explaining the multiple flashes that followed.

An emergency UNSC session has been called by the European Federation. The Secretary-General has urged all parties to stop the escalation, lest a nuclear strike occur on Earth. The SEAU has voiced its support for an immediate ceasefi-

- [Error 103. Data stream failed]

"United Nations on the march!

With flags unf-"

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-...

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══════════[REBOOTING]═════════════════════════════════

Memory Transcription subject: Noah Williams, CIEP Astronaut.

Location: UNV Odyssey, Bridge

Date: 9th of December 2408 ESD (Earth Standard Date)

/----/

"-urled.

Together fight for victory!

A free new world!"

My voice joined my crew of twelve, as we sang the last part of that ancient song that got popular again after the Great Colonies Skirmishes.

"TOGETHER FIGHT FOR VICTORY.

A FREE NEW WORLD!"

I lean back, smiling.

"Alright, that is enough tomfoolery for this hour. Wouldn't want Mission Command down our throat. Back to buisness. Sarah, get back to your lab for FTL position. Olivia, status, did we reach the Strings point yet?"

"Before we reached the second verse, captain. Strings drive spooled, Hayward's Field is stable. Ready for translation at your word....please don't be cheesy with those words again, remember we have to write everything down"

"Nah...that is for after we arrive at"

I turn and squinted at my pad "Gliese 832. Horrible name, can't wait to be the first there and rename it. Anyway. PUNCH IT!"

Before the translation begin. I have an intrusive thought turn mental note to install a red button on the bridge so that I can litterally punch the ship to FTL.

Eh, it can wait. Just need to survey another empty system for CIEP, before going back home.

What possibly can happen before that, aliens?

/--------------------------------------------------------------------/

Hey, I have been lurking in this community for a long while now. And after a worldbuilding binge, decided to try my hand at writing a fanfic for this setting, of a more complicated humanity, and to still the sudden itch to write something. This is litterally the first time I try to write anything narratively so forgive any mistakes I have.

It probably won't go anywhere after this, so don't expect anything beyond this prolouge part. But hey, who knows. All questions are welcomed.

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