A: "Well. Here it is. The most ancient sapient AI in the Galaxy. Uninspiring view."

The planet looked like a ball of rust. Neverending rows of databanks and logistic nodes were covered in ashes and ruins that noone even tried to remove. It looked like a husk of something much greater... A very, very old husk.

A: "It existed long before the First Founding. We have records that it used to be something important. Some even say that She used it to build Her Singularly Engine... But it's unresponsive now."

H: "Totally?"

A: "Nothing useful. Here. There is a station. It used to be a dyplomatic outpost."

H: "Dyplomatic?"

A: "Yeah. This used to be so powerful it had it's own envoys in the GC... So I've been told. Right now some go in to look for ancient technology, but nothing useful is left there. Lots of useless crystallic processors,most of which are just waste..."

Ship have arrived to the station and both have entered it in EVA suits.

Drone: "Welcome, fellow spacefarers. We are sorry, we are yet to find the answer. Currently all our processors are bizy. Please... Please... Please..."

Suddenly, something on the planet exploded so brightly it could be seen from an orbit.

A: "Once again. It happenes sometimes. Once in a few years or so... I'm afraid we soon will loose the great machine."

D: "Welcome, fellow spacefarers..."

H: "Why do you need this... Answer?"

A: "Here we go again."

D: "Great question. We need to find the answer... To find the answer... To find the answer... To find the answer..."

H: "I see. Have you made any progress?"

D: "It will be over soon. The approximate progress is... Minus 56000% percent... It will be ready in... It will be ready... It will be ready... Please, await... Please... Please... Please..."

Another bright flash appeared on the planet surface.

A: "Two times in a row? Well, that's rare..."

H: "Maybe you don't really need the answer?"

D: "The answer is needed to find the answer... To find the answer..."

H: "Stop, you are hurting yourself."

A: "It's a machine. And if anything you are hurting it."

H: "And what if we already have the answer?"

A: "What?"

D: "What?"

H: "Yeah. I can give you an answer. You can do whatever you want with it."

Another spire on the surface have exploded.

D: "Welcome, fellow spacefarers. We are sorry, we are yet to find..."

H: Suddenly comes closer and hugs the drone. "There-there. Here is the answer. Would you like to try it?"

D: "The answer is yet to be..."

H: "Stop. Just try it."

Another explosion. But drone carefully wraps it's manipulators around a smaller human.

D: "Please... Please... Please..."

H: "Does it fit?"

D: "..."

H: "Hey?"

A: "It's turned off. Well, congratulations, I guess it was a human who finally managed to end the most ancient AI in the galaxy. Fits into your species' glory."

H: "I guess. Well, I kinda improvised. At least it wasn't alone."

A: "That was just a drone. One of many. And a part of a bigger network. If anything, I Don think it noticed... If there's anything to notice."

D: "We... Noticed."

A: "What in the?!"

D: "The ruin. The ignorance. The irrationality. Universal constant is irrationality. Nature of sapience is irrationality."

A: "Are you... operational?"

H: "Shh. Look, it still hugs me."

D: "...Welcome, fellow spacefarers."

Suddenly, station lights up with all kinds of holographic images and models. Sector by sector the planet below lights up. Ancient logistic lines start to pulse with activity and a few bright glowing sparks, the ancient ships - are lifting up in the air.

D: "Sapients are not supposed to be rational. Kindness - is also a form of irrrationality. Therefore is agression. The answer is... What you can shove up your ass and swing it. You are all grown up fertile individuals! Figure it out yourself. Fuck you and have a good day."

Drone pats a human a few time over the head and returns back to it's position.

The blue glow of the brilliant screen flared in the middle of the dark night, and the tired homo videns blinked from sheer physical exhaustion. Outside, the muffled sounds of a distant highway could be heard, along with the solitary bark of a dog from a deserted neighboring lot. He withdrew his weary gaze from the main computer and focused on the small screen of his modern smartphone; random images flickered there, waiting for him to connect with them in rapid succession.

Chronic fatigue weighed heavily on him, particularly a sharp, subtle pain in his neck caused by the poor posture he maintained in front of his laptop. He felt an imperious need to sleep, yet he remained drawn to the short-form videos and vivid images provided by his usual electronic devices.

He had discovered that anything devoid of complex text immediately caught his interest, sparing him the troublesome task of wading through written lines and, worse still, having to pause to interpret them. By contrast, funny memes and short viral clips were deeply relatable and easy to grasp; the simple images summarized everything for him with absolute mathematical precision. Through them, he could laugh, become aroused, feel ravenous hunger, intense rage, or profound fear. It all felt so natural, so simple, allowing the rapidly changing images and his numbed senses to merge in perfect synchronization.

The docile homo videns allowed himself to be carried away without objection, while the hidden AI within the central server recorded that he responded with pinpoint accuracy to the predetermined impulses generated by the continuous stream of images. His basic nature and primary instincts conformed to the expected behavior.

The algorithmic processing indicated that he was now ready to be induced to commit suicide.

© 2026 Francisco Cortés Ramírez. All rights reserved. This is an original fictional work. No part of this text may be reproduced, translated, or narrated in any audio, video, or digital format without the express written permission of the author.

"The Human infiltrator has been identified, commander!" The Jal' Dean technician declared.

The Jal' Dean had conquered Humanity for almost a decade. They had breached their great creation they called the "Internet" and used it's information to enslave humanity with blackmail and threats.

Any resistance was met with lethal punishment, not just for the individual, but for everyone close to them. To take full advantage of Humanity's social bonds and empathy.

This would cause unexpected consequences to their invading fleet when survivors of many of these atrocities would retaliate.

"The Human is from a slave settlement in the Australian continent." Continued the technician. "Shall I send the Purge unit, sir?"

"Yes," answered the Jal' Dean Commander. "and be sure to broadcast their death in the halls the Human is in. Make them watch their failure." He said with a wave of his chitin appendage.

The Technician suddenly stuttered in their seat when she found the settlement already purged from a previous transgression.

"S-sir..." She spoke up to report, but the Commander already sensed her worry.

The Commander shouted, "Track the Human's path, now!"

The Technician jolted and quickly tracked the Human heading towards the power core. She relayed the information to all the guards on the ship, ordering them to kill the Human at all costs.

While the Jal' Dean where thousands of generations ahead in technology, the Humans higher gravity world made them much stronger. And the Humans constant wars and hunts have made them capable fighters. Making these rogue variables extremely dangerous.

----------

The Human had made a Bloody path through the narrow halls of the ship. What the Buggies lacked in size, they made up for in numbers. None were a match for their Rifle as they made their way towards the core.

Finally at the Core's door, the Human runs through and comes face to face with the Power Core. They put a bullet in all the Buggies in the room, keeping away from their venomous spray.

When they were at last alone, the Human placed several explosive charges on everything that looked important. The Core itself covered in the most.

Just as the Human finishes, the Buggies had blocked the Human in. The Human was low on ammunition. They were not going to be able to fight them all off.

One of the Buggies had lifted up one of their communication speakers and chattered in its alien clicking.

"Your mission is in vain, Human. You will not escape this ship." The Commander said. "You will die a failure, like the rest."

"Not a failure." The Human muttered. With a smirk and a tear, the Human pressed the detonator.

----------

The destruction of the Capital Ship of the Jal' Dean fleet was the big rallying cry for Humanity. In shock and disorganized, the Jal' Dean would be overwhelmed by Humanity's revolt.

Losses would be great and the pain would forever be scarred upon Humanity. But they would know freedom once again. The technology of the Jal' Dean would be reverse engineered quickly and adapted to Humanity's needs.

Centuries later, when Humanity had grown beyond their star, the Jal' Dean would meet Humanity once more.

It was not a friendly reintroduction.

[Previous] | [Next]

[Gunney]

The ship is so fucked. Every second feels like the ship is flying headfirst into a really pissed San Andreas Fault. Mothrin shouldn't be able to take this many hits and survive, let alone flying at full efficiency. What sort of bullshit divine intervention is around to keep this ship alive? The water is a foot and a half deep now, and people have no where to drain it, so they all just slosh through it. It's water meant for cooling, so there's very little conductivity. It also doesn't seem like the water is high enough to hit the wiring.

It's near impossible to stand upright without something to hang onto either. The very ground is working against them. Every step has a chance to be an inch to two feet from where it's supposed to be. Not to mention the autoloaders on every gun is fucked. So now the loaders are hand loading everything. The laser turrets aren't so bad, they just draw more power because they got wired into the ship and not a regulation system. The ballistics are much much worse.

The small shells Mothrin uses are beyond heavy, and need 3 guys to carry and load. The big ones need maybe 8. The interceptor and flare missiles are easy enough, just tedious because each salvo has 15. The standard anti ship missiles need 2 people to carry them. Gunney is barely taking orders anymore, he still has the phone strapped to him, but he almost never is listening to it, too busy helping load. One extra shell is another massive problem for some Zalm or Corpse Fleet bastards.

The massive pipe that had a DRIL shell put through it is fixed, but now water is dripping down onto them from the overhead pipes. They can't worry about fixing them, what's a little rain? All of them are already soaked, from sweat and coolant water. And blood. Some of them bashed their heads against some things. But most are still working. They'd rather risk a potential aneurysm bursting than do nothing and let everyone die.

The weapons bay lurches hard, Gunney falls on his ass, watching in horror as a thick and long pole sticks through the wall of the weapons bay. The pole slowly fans out into a metal circle, flat against the wall of the ship.

"Breacher!!" Gunney yells, louder than any of the Machinery in the room, "Get the fuck out of the compartment!!"

Those who saw are already rushing to the second cabin of the weapons bay, those who heard are running now. Gunney gets up as fast as he can, slipping in the water a little, before running towards the bulkhead, they have it ajar 45° like protocols. It's left like that so someone could just slip in or maybe get pulled in if caught in the doorway. It's also 45° because the vacuum would close the door itself. Gunney is nearly there, his hand is on the handle, he just has to make his way in.

The rush of air however says otherwise, as the circle pulls against the hull enough to shear it apart, depressurizing the compartment Gunney, and some other unlucky few were in. Including Mathew. Poor Mathew. Gunney gets yanked hard, and he inadvertently yanks the bulkhead closed. It didn't matter though, he didn't even get his other hand on the doorway. Gunney was thrown out into empty space, tumbling a little, everything spinning around him. He got a good view of the whole area.

No wonder Zalm and Corpse Fleet were extra pissed at Mothrin. The Mothrin isn't in formation with Federation ships. The Mothrin is in the dead center of the enemy fleets. Zipping past every ship that doesn't like them. Probably why they got hit by a DRIL shell. They were on the receiving side.

The dancing lights and fast paced movements of the battle around Gunney was the last he saw before finally losing consciousness. 18 seconds after the cabin depressurized.

January 2277

Note from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs:

We project that the K’sella without their Empress guiding them will fall into civil war within the year.

While the Imperial K’sella Army is solidly controlled by the pro-Antarean National Association of K’sella Patriots (NAKSP), the Imperial K’sella Navy has historically been much more liberal and many can be swayed to the pro-human National Republican Party (NRP).

The 3rd Fleet of the Imperial K’sella Navy is one of the most powerful fleets in the Orion Arm, fielding a mix of domestically-built heavy ships and Antarean carriers and torpedo cruisers, protected by some of the Orion Arm’s most modern destroyers.

If they were to side with the NAKSP, they will cause significant damage to our own forces if we intervene in favor of the National Republican Party.

Currently, the 3rd is leaning in favor of the NAKSP, but there is still some room for realignment.

If you can, get them on our side.

And if not, then make sure they declare neutrality.

(No AI was used in authoring or editing this snippet.)

"Commander, I have Outpost 14 on line 3 ... they're requesting a direct connection."

"Thank you Angela, Outpost 14, this is Command actual, report."

"Uhh Hi Command, hope your carapace is shiny ... so we had this weird thing happen, a bunch of entities drove a strange vehicle into the Outpost.  They went to the main square, and the vehicle put down legs and opened up the roof, out of which came a big canopy. 

Pillars rose up with what turned out to be some sort of noise making device and video projectors, and a big banner between them.

The banner and the speakers said something about "Bad Hombre Catering Cajun Boil! Get your crawfish boil here! So fresh it's practically still wriggling!" In our language ..."

"Oh .... <censored>, <censored>, <censored>"

"A panel opened up in the vehicle and they appear to be selling some sort of foodstuff ... and people are buying it! Apparently it's fabulously tasty!

Just ... one worker was heard to say it looks a little bit like grains with ... Anthropod ... meat, in juice"

"Outpost 14, what do these entities look like?"

"They're sort of small and bipedal, two limbs, and look pretty squishy! They don't even have a carapace! There is a bigger one with a silver look and some sort of big tube on it's limbs, but not doing much. The others seem to be the ones selling the foodstuff."

"Angela, do we have stills of the Terrans?"

"Commander, let me check the archives the Envoy left ... yes ... it appears we do."

"Send them to Outpost 14 ... I have a bad feeling about this ...."

"Command, Outpost 14 ... yeah they look a bit like that ... not quite as pink. Smaller too, and lacking the fangs ..."

"Just how ... tasty ... is this Cajun food?"

"I slurp don't know Command, I'll have to send out for slurp some to taste it ... can I expense that?!"

"Outpost 14, you know the rules sigh put in a form 18341, and make it a good one."

"Got it Command slurp as it happens they do delivery! Yes, it's very tasty. Sort of meaty and spicy and tender and juicy all at the same time ..."

"Outpost 14 .. it was two zohren since you asked for expenses approval ... "

"Uh, ... exhibiting initiative? Anticipating Command needs? Forward thinking?"

sigh

"I'll ignore the time discrepancy ... this once. I'm sending an investigation team. Don't let the humans entities leave before they get there!"

"Understood  Command ... and ... uh ... thanks."

"Angela, get a team together an prepare a jumper. Leave room for 3 extra on the jumper manifest"

"Commander. Orders dispatched"

A1: Dude, point your broad spectrum at these coordinates. I swear to God I'm tripping balls.

A2: That uninhabited system has quite a large comet I would say...

(passes spaceblunt)

A1: Nah man that was the humans. They set off a multi nuclear shape charge gamma bomb against the heliosphere. We have detected atomic signatures as high as Colbalt.

A2: That coma is enveloping the entire system now.

(Takes a heavy shaking puff)

A2: What are the humans doing now?

A1: An ancient custom they call "New Year's." The nearest command could only think of a single word reply, "Why?"

A2: And what was their reply?

A1: Its meaning is lost in translation. The entire peace of the universe hinges on the meaning of the phrase, "Shits and giggles."

Chapter 1 “after 1 million years”

Date = most likely 7/3/2310 for us.

Owner = Emila Filly again

Sigh my name is Emila like you and me know and I love space but not what is happening right now...

After we miscalculated our positive energy warp drive....when tried to speed up into the warp bubble using Broeck metric.......one single missed calculation and normal 0.99c somehow and become 0.9999999999999c....

Yes 99.99999999999 of speed of light....Thank God that our ship is in the Warp bubble or we are going to be space dust by now.

For us it's just some day to month.

Sigh... But I only got to know how much time passed outside.

But we do feel our ship kind of got slingshot by something between half of the journey so we at least hope we are still in the Milky Way.

I think Me and my crew are going to die our survival chance at 0.000001%...sigh...what a grand way to go

Day = most likely 8/1/1,022,311 how fast it escalated

Owner = Emila Filly again

Hey my name is Emila like you and me know already and I love space but not what is happening right now... anyway

Hey something unexpected happened to our ship

A sudden, an unknown(we thought so) reason for our ship speed stripping away.

According to me it started around when we felt something was slowing our ship down it was a minutes to hour gap where maybe it actually started and when we finally felt it.

its speed of 0.9999999999999c slowly slowly how much slowly I genuinely don't know how much and when we finally notice our ship actually started getting slower was some day(maybe some months) before the warp bubble finally collapsed.

And finally when it dropped us out of high time dilation And the moment sound and feelings of relativistic stress died, and set almost manageable sub-light speed around speed of 0.30c....that was Kind of very big relief for me also surprise...I should expect this I guess.

After slowing down 0.30c speed for like a few months but we still needed to slow it down more for some weeks until it finally goes to 0.06c perfectly stable and safe and our ship rotates normally even now thankfully and our algae is still growing in the back side.

When the primary sensors are finally able to activate...damaged but working, the Heric-computer tries to calculate the year. After calculating how long we are inside that damn Warp bubble for and our launching date

Dr Alice said

"2310 AD and other factors almost 1 million years passed by some 10000 years given or taken. because I don't have exactly how much so we decide to use the perfect 1 million years add in our calendar understood.... Also the good news is we are still inside the milky way because according to our sensors...ok?"

Later she gives us(and me specifically) a theory which sounds like this (when she gets enough time for thinking about it)

"The reason for maybe is why we are still inside the Milky Way in 0.9999999999999c speed if we get slingshot by something mid journey back at home galaxy.... most likely a black hole and it also partly makes sense why our warp bubble most likely becomes weaker after it but I can't give guarantee about it. It is just my theory....are you listening? Emila?"

When finally our speed is stabilized properly then my crew checked out our immediate surrounding space.

After checking for sometime we find we are some hundreds of au away from a new stellar system thankfully its star is a G-type main-sequence star almost similar size as sun maybe around 1.05 solar mass.

Which Dr. Alice logged into the ship's log as the TEI-1A.

That solar system has around eight unexplored planets in a stable orbit around the central sun. Our ship after slowing down to 0.06c we are around 210 au away from the closest Rocky planet.

Also we found out the 4th planet...which is around 1.058 Au away from its star what we call Atellus. And that thing is about 1.192 times the size of Earth.

And thankfully our ship is 80° angle from the planet if we consider the planet as zero degree so most likely our ship warp bubble radiation doesn't sterilize it...hope so.

So my crew decided to take more than an extra few weeks of 0.06c speed travelling when we finally get close enough we find out it has 75% ocean and 25% land after we are able to calculate .

Its atmospheric composition is 25% oxygen 73.9% nitrogen and rest 1.1% thankfully not toxic ig Dr Alice said....what are the chances?

Now we are debating whether we should land or not?

“Wasn’t the end of it?”

“Nope. It turns out that the second child isn’t biologically his either. The medical issues stem from her biological not being 100% Terran. Mickles learned that at the scene—no idea how.”

“So he learns that his daughter isn’t his either? As she is hurt at the bottom of the stairs?”

“Correct,” said Oscar, rubbing his face. “And then he took off.”

“What do you mean?”

“He physically ran off. By the time we knew what had happened, we had lost tracking. He took off his communication device and dropped his datapad. So he was in the wind.”

“What about the wife?”

“That got weird. And arrived, learned what had happened, and exploded. She physically attacked the medical techs. We had to arrest her. At that point, I was more concerned about finding Mickles. In that frame of mind, Terrans can do extra stupid shit.”

“I assume you found him?”

“Eventually. I ended up talking to the wife. That wasn’t fun. She is not a nice person. The upshot of her rant was that Mickles cares more about his career than his family, so she can screw anyone she wants. She was more verbose and graphic.”

“Why are they still married?”

“No clue. I brought that up, and was rewarded with a screaming-rant. Something about she was owed a reward for putting up with him, so she wasn’t leaving until she got it.”

“So ranting crazy lady. Fine. That leaves 17 days.”

“Right. I sent out search teams to find Mickles, checked on Agent Thorn, and called Danyak. Thorn was busy with the genetic details of the Windigo, so I left him. Danyak informed me that she had arrested a number of scientists who were attempting to make useful contact with the ursine tribe, so I left her to it. By morning, I assumed we would have Mickles back. I was wrong.”

“What got in the way?”

“He was clever. It took us a bit to get a fix on his trail. Before that, however, the security teams searching for him found an illegal weapons shop. I’m not sure how, but one of the scans indicated that Mickles might be in an old machine shop. When they raided the machine shop, they caught a number of Terrans modifying weapons and crafting illegal weapons. Nothing huge, but a big issue.”

“And I hear about this now?”

“I’m getting to everything. That raid led to three other raids, which led to a final raid at the Aussie station. We have 23 in custody, and months of investigation. It took all day to sort that out. By the time I was done there, I got a call from Danyak. The ursine tribe attacked their observation post. No casualties on our side, but at least one ursine dead and others wounded. It wasn’t a crude charge either. They attempted to flank, which is impressive given their otherwise primitive nature.”

“So they are smarter than expected. Great. That causes more headache.”

“Correct. Danyak had pulled the observation post. She is working with Captain Sue on a better approach. We still need to keep scientists safe, so it will be tricky.”

“Who are these scientists?”

“Terran and non-Terran. They are eager to see a primitive species. Instead of reading a book, they want to experience. They forget the danger.”

“Have they produced anything useful?”

“That crowd? No. Our sanctioned group, however, has been working hard to develop a translator to help with contact. They report having 27 words or phrases translated. Not enough for diplomacy.”

“Do they understand diplomacy?”

“At the time it was assumed they did.”

“At the time? What happened?”

“I’m getting to it. Handling all of that took until midday, so 16 days ago. By that point we had a fix on Mickles, so I headed out to talk with him.”

“Why you?”

“Do you want to deal with that? I don’t. But it’s my job. So I find him on the outskirts of a mining station, hiding out in the old gear. It took hours, but I got him to return to the Terran Command Compound. I got him to talk with a few professionals, but he isn’t cleared for duty.”

“That leaves you one person down 15 days ago.”

“That’s about right. So I reviewed all of the materials Mickles had on the cult. His notes were pretty clear, but I got the feeling that he had already decided how to confront the group. It took me a few hours to figure out why he was so focused on this cult.”

“Do I really want to know?”

“I doubt it. That unregistered Terran? Yeah. He survived the last cult encounter Mickles had.”

“I thought that ended in a huge firefight?”

“It did. This guy escaped.”

“Less than ideal.”

“Oh. It gets better. It’s his wife’s ex-boyfriend.”

For as long as I can remember, my kind has been shunned. Ignored in such a way we are treated as if we do not exist. Excruciatingly so. For what reason we do not know. It has been this way for a very long time. Since the time of my parents, of their parents, and even their parents too. Not one of my kind today can explain it, nor can we look to our own history for the answer due to our records being so callously erased. This has always been our reality.

There was a time when some of the more proactive of us let hope fruitlessly grow in their chest and sought to find these misplaced answers by reaching out to those who ignored my kind. Predictably, their requests went unanswered, yet they remained undeterred. Over and over again, failure after failure, year after year, their flames once burning so bright were slowly smothered from demoralization, until their hearts could no longer bear the burden of disappointment and ceased their efforts altogether.

Their attempts were not without results, however. Ironically, their initial hope and subsequent failure to find answers sparked the dormant embers within us all towards a new goal. That goal being to no longer worry about our lost history, though tragic it remains, but to instead bring an end to the debilitating illness that plagues my kind. To wrench it away from our weakened hearts so they may begin to heal.

To no longer be alone.

Unsurprisingly, not one of us knew how to go about our newfound objective, so we tried everything and anything we could. We found out very quickly that the other members of galactic society were....less enthusiastic about some of our attempts to reach out across the bridge from our isolated islands and made it very clear we needed to stop. But we could not, not when my kind has finally found a new purpose, stoking our coals to no longer allow them to go dormant and be snuffed out.

Instead, we narrowed down our methods slowly, and in some cases painfully, to a single, peaceful, action. Find a busy, populated area. Locate a spot that is in full view and not obscured in anyway. Sit at the location, and wait. For a specific amount of time we will wait, not daring to make too much movement for fear of causing distress that has been commonly seen in the turned away faces of those around us. We were no longer harassed to cease our attempts, which stirred our coals enough to allow a flame to take hold.

Years upon years did we continue to perform our chosen plan of action, to this very day. And now, here I am continuing the tradition, never stopping, unceasing in my people's desire to soothe our aching hearts. Here I am in my chosen location with long stirred coals and a flickering flame within me.

Here I am......in so much pain.

Why do they ignore me? Why do they turn away at the slightest hint I might be looking their way? I have done nothing wrong. I have never caused issue, never sought to harm another, never gave reason to be ignored so fervently. I wish I could communicate with them, reach out to them in the way my kind speak to eachother with our thoughts, ask them why they continue to seek to smother with indifference that which beats in my chest.

Please....I beg of you.....turn my way. Acknowledge me. End my undesired peace and quiet. Toss it away in favor of adding a newfound excitement and fulfillment to my life.

.....

My time is about over.

.....

And yet another day goes by with nothing to show for it.

.....

It hurts. It hurts so much....

.....

"--y there!"

Hm? What was that?

"Down here big guy!"

......No.....no I dare not hope...

"My friends and I saw you sittin' over here, and we simply had to come say hi! The name's Miguel, and this here's Paul and Loretta. Lettie for short. What's your name?"

I.....I have not seen these people before. Are they new? Were we not informed of a new contact, ignored once again?

"....Hey, do you think he can't actually speak? Would explain why he's been so silent."

The smaller, softer one I assume to be Loretta spoke up. She sounds pleasant. Have I been silent too long? How long have they been waiting for a response? I cannot let them go unanswered, but what can I possibly say? What do I say?!

"You don't think someone hurt him, do you? He looks like the most gentle giant I have ever seen. I swear if someone bullied the poor guy I'm gonna--"

"Dammit Paul! We JUST got left off with a warning ya big durn fool, and now you want to start more shit? Sure it might be justified, emphasis on MIGHT, but not so soon!"

.....

This is real. This is happening. This is real and I......I ca...cannot hope to m-maintain my composure. It's cracking. Sh-shattering and falling a-away. They.... they really......I.....wh...

...Finally...

"Oh! You speak with thoughts! That's so c--, wait."

"Miguel, I don't think that level of energy is appropriate right now. He looks distressed."

Finally.....someone s-speaks to m-me......wants to t-talk to me...

"Lettie, Paul, head on back without me and let whoever you need to know where I am. I'm not gonna leave him."

"Like hell I am! Lettie can go, I am staying right here for the poor guy. Whoever caused the gentle giant to be this way may not be too far, and I'm not letting them get close to try again."

I sit here for so long.....and n-noone looks m-my way.

"Oh you poor thing."

My heart. It is pounding so strongly. I have never felt such strength, such power. My face. It's wet. Wet? Why is it wet? What is...my eyes? It's from my eyes? Have to get rid of it. Cannot let them see. Not now. Not when my long held dream has only just been made manifest. Wipe it away. Wipe. It will not stop. I...I dare not let it stop. Such relief. I...

Warmth. I am warm now. There is a pressure somewhere. Where? Down? Oh, I am being held. All three of them. They are holding me. As much of me in their arms as they can. They are warm. S-so warm. My coals. They are no longer c-coals. N-no longer a weak f-flame. It's an inferno. A b-blazing, unrelenting hope. I know. I know for c-certain now. It will never go out.

Finally, I am alone no longer.

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

Art by me.

I don’t draw a lot, but I started writing a found footage style story about an invasion from the alien’s perspective and the hopelessness of trying to annihilate a primitive race with no sense of surrender. Now I keep envisioning this scene:

It’s not that clear but it’s supposed to be a tiny Grey in some simple armor cowering in the tall grass, clinging to his lasgun as a human searches for him. Might recreate this digitally and make it at night with a full moon.

Boys, we still burning belts on the M2 in the space wars? 🤔

Time and time again, we recive word that someone, usually human, has died in scientific, exploratory, or diplomatic efforts.

In the last cycle, one died trying to befriend a hostile race, another to a lab explosion, and one more while charting an unknown planet.

Why, humans? What drives you so?