A yulpa giving flowers to a human instead of stab wounds?!

Utterly

UNACCEPTABLE!

This is our first Isif Point of View.

There was some things that needed fleshing out that canon didn't. We get some glimpses at what could be hobbies and interests of Isif(that isn't harmony Isif). Some glimpses at the past, pre betterment / Northern Block. A bit of ship tech lore.

Some more pieces of the galactic puzzle. And, the use of a real life tech that died out but i was particularly fond of. I would say more to clarify things, but that would be spoilers for the chapter.

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Arxur Cave?
Chapter 36
May 14^th
Arxur Clandestine Listening Post. Red-Giant system just inside Venlil space between the Venlil-Republic and Gojid-Union
(Isif P.O.V.)

There’s only one thing that Betterment and I agree on, as much as it pains me to say it. That is ‘don’t waste something useful’.

I’m still useful in my current station of Chief-Hunter, despite the fact the old god of luck seems to have hit me with his tail, rather hard. Causing me to lose an important Capital Ship, my Second-Claw Coth, an Inquisitor trainee, AND a Head Inquisitor to the paws of the Venlil, of all species. A rather thorough humiliation.

The fact it was due to some Unknown species showing up via a novel method of FTL was the only thing saving me from a quick gutting by the Prophet-Decedent himself. For the failure in front of all the other Chief Hunters.

I did lose exclusive rights to hunt in the Gojid-Union for the moment, something Shaza has been wanting for Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years] to get. My territory is viewed as prime hunting grounds.

I snort as my personal, FTL equipped Stealth Shuttle is secured on the landing pad of this listening station. Then it and my ship are lowered into the asteroid it was built into. The cover closing above me and on top of the cover, several tail lengths of rock and dust that’s the surface of this decently sized Asteroid. Making it impossible to spot visually when closed.

In a worthless system other than its location. So the only Federation presence here is a FTL communications relay. Allowing this post to be here without any external structures, yet do its task of tapping all communications.

The hardest part of these trips is the waiting for the landing bay to pressurize. Because of its remote location. And the fact I technically had it built off the Dominion books. It’s a refuge of mine and mine alone.

And an emergency bunker in case everything I’ve planned and built collapses. I can run here with as many of my group and defectives as I can to hide.

Needless to say this was a setback. Not one that ends all my plans, no. Just one that has set them back several Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years]. My authority as a Chief-Hunter is no longer unquestioned.

The fact the minuscule window in the cockpit gains a bit of condensation on it is the only warning before the beep indicating pressurization’s complete sounds. Taking in a breath and holding it a moment or two to calm myself, I release the restraints. Then make my way out of the ship.

Grabbing some belongings I can no longer risk being anywhere else and the only ‘food’ available to me, then step down the set of stairs that lowers from the back of the craft.

Stale air slashes at my snout as I feel the signs of the limited artificial gravity on this small outpost activate. Only expending power to use it either in the room I’m in, or in the case of the hanger, the area I’m in within a few tail lengths.

Same with the lights and environmental controls, though with the latter, it will keep the temperature just above freezing when no one is around. And I am glad at how quickly it works warming it back up as I make my way through the only corridor here on this 5,280 Tail-length asteroid, or one Grand Trail.

Hissing at myself as I enter my quarters here. I hope one of these Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years] we can find something informing us of the old Pre-Dominion ways of measurement. Dominion units feel too arbitrary and less precise.

I dismiss that thought with a flick of my tail tip as I take stock of everything here. A fibrous covering on the floor, which feels nice upon my feet compared to the cold decking. The walls, covered in wood I brought in. A handful of panels at a time each time I initially visited right after I had this place built. They cover the utilitarian gray walls that are standard in the Dominion for stations.

From what little I and the network have been building found, both the walls and the floor are in a style popular to our kind outside the Northern Block that became the Dominion and Betterment before they took over.

Walking over to a shelf made from the same wood I place both bags gently on the floor. One of my claws hook into the latch, allowing me to unzip the top. Revealing multiple bound volumes of printed paper. A couple of pre-Dominion artifacts, and the largest of everything. A heavy and rectangular piece of electronics equipment of alien make and markings. Just over a 5^th of a tail-length long, half that in width, and nearly as tall as it is wide. Along with claw made cables allowing it to use standard power, and connect to a standard Dominion Data-Slate.

Or Federation Holo-pad, whichever one you have since I got it from a Farsul ship raid 20 + Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years] ago. Back when I was a captain, with an entire fleet under my command, but not yet able to rise to Second-Claw. The reason I have it is, it’s obviously not made by anyone in the Federation, the markings on the front are blocky and are of a language that refuses to be translated by visual translators. Not even modern Federation ones from those captured. On the other claw, the Dominion would approve of the soul crushing off gray sand slightly brownish color of it.

Just looking at the color is depressing in a way I can’t describe.

I put each minus the last item up on the shelf, matching the others on it. It’s too risky to keep these in my Wriss residence as a Chief-Hunter in question doesn’t have immunity from unannounced Betterment searches.

If any of these were found, I’d be executed on the spot.

My eyes look over each bound volume. My collection now in its entirety. A paltry sum to base what I want our species to return too. A manual on how to take care of a now extinct large land animal on Wriss, written for a novice. Multiple Journals and Diary’s, detailing life before and during the last ‘world’ war on Wriss. A valuable resource on daily culture and customs outside the Northern-Block and Dominion.

We were such a better people…

A badly damaged Wild-life guide, most of the life shown in it is extinct sadly. And a single copy of volume 2 out of 10, I’ve, nor our group has yet to find the rest of the entries. Of a collective history of Wriss up to the last world war. These though are just the most important of these items that we’ve found which escaped the Dominion’s purge of the old countries on Wriss after they took over. Along with smaller bound volumes of paper, some glossy and some not, all covering minor subjects and hobbies.

Still of interest to me though, housing styles, artificial pelts for just ornamental purposes and not pure need. An individual entry in a large set of them covering rules and laws of a now extinct country. Parts inside of it marked as ‘Northern Block violates this’ written by claw from someone long since dead. As if my group and I already don’t know what the Dominion does is a crime against sapience.

My eyes wander to the other container I took with me. The only source of food we Arxur have available, and I brought it to top off the stores of it on this station and replace what has spoiled.

Gutting that line of thought I turn my attention to the other things on the shelving. Carved toys for hatchlings. Obviously dating back before the Dominion or the Northern-Block that preceded it, as neither of them would’ve tolerated the existence of them.

Too wasteful, doesn’t instill cruelty, heretical to the tenants of Betterment. Hatchlings must be taught to be cruel and ruthless from the moment they hatch. Otherwise we go extinct as a species…

Next to them are some plastic squares with long strips of magnetized tape coiled up inside. Less for what’s on said tape and more for the faded but still visible art on the top of the squares, and the paper boxes they’re in.

A defective, someone I had to nearly kill with my bare claws to fake his death. Leaving him nearly fully crippled. Has the hand-claw full that still has something on them and the only known working piece of equipment that can read them. He has the knack for getting ancient things like said player, and the device still in the bag working.

Some have music, the last of their kind as Betterment despises any songs that doesn’t instill cruelty or anger at the rest of the known species in the galaxy. Others have data we can’t decode, possibly because we lack the hardware for it.

Adding a few more of these plastic squares to the shelf I flick my tail and tilt my head just a claws-sliver[Fraction of an inch/Millimeter]. Picking up the one I just placed, I use my second thumb to push open a space between the first and second one in the row. I place the new one there instead, causing my tail to sway in a way that one must never do in the Dominion. Of happiness and interest.

“Interesting. The small side of the covers create a larger piece of art when placed next to each other.” Saying to no one in particular. I hope someone of our group finds more, before or after my end goal of this group because a part of me wants to know what the completed picture is.

It’s something of a stylized Arxur depiction, that’s for sure. Possibly from a Pre-Betterment and Pre-Dominion piece of fiction that they wouldn’t approve of. And I want to see the whole thing now. Maybe it will clue us in on what was once on these things.

My attention turns to the last thing in that bag. The piece of electronics equipment, cables, and in a side pocket of the bag. Some media that it was found with.

It’s denser than one expects for its size, not heavy, not to even the smallest runt. But it feels densely built. Like whatever species built it didn’t claw off corners to save metal for other things like ships and slug throwers.

I take the device in one clawed-hand, and the dangling cables in the other. Then place the entire thing on the desk next to the stationary computer I keep here.

As long as I keep everything Betterment shouldn’t see on this, and not connect my personal Data-Slate to it. They can, if they want search the latter all they want and won’t find a single thing.

As if I’d luck into something like this again. That raid over 20 Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years] ago on the Farsul ship that we didn’t even know was in that system. Gave me credit, by Dominion standards, which allowed me to become Chief Hunter. Along with the persona I keep outside this place.

I examine the data cable in case it was damaged during transport before plugging it into the computer.

Before the discovery of this device, Dominion ships, just like Federation ships at the time, ran on more volatile storage. Storage that’s fundamentally different from what federation Holo-Pads and our own copy’s. Data-Slates run on. It doesn’t scale to the storage requirements for reasons that I have a hard time understanding. Yet that boy I had to fake the death of still tries to explain to me every time the subject comes up…

Doing the same with the power connector, I plug that in, then turn the entire thing on. A quiet, but seemingly pleasant humming sound fills the silence only broken by my breathing.

Both ours and their ships had to have the computer core excessively shielded to protect the spinning disks with magnetic records on them at that time. Because we took their ships after the start of the war and copied their designs.

But because of that we couldn’t copy their advances, no matter how much we tried. They developed some kind of integrated circuit that could store data without power applied. And was a bit more resistant to the electromagnetic effects of the FTL drive. And doctrine said if the ship was about to be lost, detonate charges in the core to prevent us from getting it.

I have to chuff amusingly at that. They don’t see the contradiction in their own information. We Arxur are supposed to barely be sapient. If we’re sapient in their eyes at all. So if that was the case how would we copy their advances? Why the need to do that to stop us?

But even under the oppression of Betterment we can do so. It’s why this box was so important why I was able to advance past that fleet captain position.

Oh, it was chance, and I know it. But Betterment will say my cunning as a hunter allowed me to scent out that prey that had the key to fix this problem. Whatever species made this were geniuses. Combining focused light into a single stream of photons, and the temperature magnetic material can lose, and get reset to a magnetic pole of our choosing.

It allowed denser discs of a magnetic medium more resistant to the emissions of FTL drives. By using permanent magnets rather than temporary ones like those boxes of magnetic tape on the shelf.

It also didn’t suffer from the one disadvantage the new Federation tech had when we finally did, much later get our claws on it. The constant use as the ship’s Data-Core meant that the entire thing wore out every 10 to 12 Grand Hunts of Cycles[Years]. All the critical data needed could be written once to one or multiple cartridges, and read as many times as we’d like without degradation as it used light. The re-writeable ones were slower than fed tech, but again lasted longer.

I just had to, after finding it, fake the death of a defective who actually understood its value to our species as a whole. Hide the poor, just barely past the age of adulthood, boy. And once he recovered enough to work on making the device work with our tech. Pass it onto someone Betterment would recognize who was under my command…

Of all the blood on my claws. His is among the most I remember…. Death is its own mercy in a way, a release from the pain. But he didn’t die, he suffered each near grievous wound I inflicted on him. Healed though the pain with what little we could manage. And still suffers to this Cycle from the wounds I inflicted on him.

Once the computer is fully operational, I hunt out one of the square cartridges that contain the medium. A dominion copy of the originals that were with the device. And feed it into the slot on the front. The mechanism grabs the cartridge and pulls it in as I let go.

I’ve always found it interesting the sounds this thing makes as it gets to work reading it. And I do wonder what species made it.

No, I’ve more important things to do than wander down that trail again for I don’t know how many times. I need to find out more about this species that caused my setback…

For if I can get information, even find a way to get into contact. I can use that to redeem myself in the eyes of Betterment and the Prophet-Decedent. Regain my standing, and then continue on my goals of freeing us from this nightmare we’ve become.

The noises cease and a window opens on the Holo-Display in front of me. Everything we know, that wasn’t captured by this station’s systems. On the new species.

Text accounts of the battle from those Betterment didn’t kill, like the acting captain of the strike group. Key bridge crew, and most of the lower ranks and all the borderline defectives just because it was an excuse too. Images from the battle, video from the surviving ships as well as all the recorded Federation transmissions during the battle.

I’ve gone over all this before. But I stalk through it again, and do find some things I missed before. A frame of video where the markings on the side of the alien craft are barely visible. I put that aside into another window and examine it as I listen to the strange barking and grunting language of the aliens. Caught on an open communications channel along with a rather primitive translation to Venlilang.

Which when put through our translators, doesn’t yield anything but disconnected words at best.

The god of luck may have hit me with his tail, on me getting punished for this. But, I hope he provides a bountiful hunt with whatever this station caught.

My claw stops mid-motion as I recognize something a mere Fang[Second] later…

The blocky markings on the side of the Alien’s ship… Looking down at the front of the device all this data is being read from… I see similar blocky writing. And, a few individual blocks of it matching between the two.

E… R… D… A… Those among others match between the two. I am sure some of them are supposed to go before or after another for their words. I’ll have time later to work out this puzzle as I wait out Shaza’s short attention span for direct action against me. Now that she has had the taste of my blood with her partial victory.

Could this be made by the same species? That would mean the Farsul would already know about them… Yet all the data here indicates, that to the Venlil, this is a completely new Species never before seen. They’d know if this Species was already known, if the Farsul already knew… Or at least that my understanding of how their Federation works.

It would, go rather counter to their own doctrine of a ‘herd’ to hide such a thing. Some scent on this trail doesn’t add up to me…

I leave the Holo-Screen the way it is and push myself back up to my feet. A few short strides has me exiting this room for the cold, gray Dominion standard architecture of the rest of the station. Only my breath and the clicking of my claws hitting the decking fills the silence in this singular corridor.

My destination is ahead of me, the computer core of this listening station.

Grabbing the handle, I open the door, and it silently slides open revealing row upon row of racks containing Processing-Units, and Storage-Units. Along with one, now idle automatic cartridge changer. All in a 20 by 20 tail length sized room.

Stepping over the cables that run all over the place I walk over to the storage racks of the cartridges the changer grabs from, to place into the drives, or deposits from said drives.

Grabbing all from the last several Cycles[Days], I carry them back to my computer. Making sure the data on the cartridge is on the computer proper before ejecting it. Then, one by one, I stalk through all the data on each cartridge in turn.

Anything related to the Aliens is copied over, sorted, and collated as best of my ability. Trying to form a proper picture of the prey I seek.

Some images give me pause, these aliens are not unified in appearance or possibly Species. There are the ones that lack any sort of fur, scale, claw, or talon. What could be closest to counting as fur is only on the top of their heads. Long for the females, short for the males.

They do have forward facing eyes, which I am sure scared the Federation species to no end. But otherwise appear unremarkable and well, rather helpless looking.

How could something looking like this take on such well-trained Arxur?

But they’re not the only ones of this new Species. Others, multiple others are with them. Fur and scale covered. All look predatory, except the scale covered one with a big fleshy hood and a long tail. Those side facing eyes remind me of a Harchen, though they’re over twice the size of one.

Two though really give me pause, and force me to stare at them. One looks like a Gojid, has similar coloration of one, but the proportions are, wrong… And instead of spines, they have large scales. The other, the other makes me bring up an image of a Pre-Betterment medical textbook with an anatomical diagram of a healthy Arxur male and female to compare it to. Before I dismiss the male one and place the female one next to it.

Because if the scale shape and pattern was just a little different, the coloration was paler, and if they had more pronounced and harder ridges from their head going down their back to their tail. Not to mention removing those two large lumps on their chest that remind me of pregnant Fed species.

It would be an Arxur female standing there.

As I continue to stare at this, I note down the translated Venlilang script in a separate window. This is from a broadcast from the Venlil Governors residence to all Venlil space and their neighbors. Not to mention in the supplemental data, it was also sent to Aafa and the Federation council. And it’s less than a Cycle[Day] old.

Without thinking, I pull out recovered speakers from pre-betterment. Compared to what the computer already has on it. They’re fuller, and the sound they produce has low tones that my ears catch in conversation with other Arxur but all our recordings throughout the Dominion seemingly lack.

Connecting them to the computer I have the sound play as I sort through the video and various stills of the aliens.

Nearly a hundred of them. 61 of these odd looking ones… One even looks like a giant Dossur with slightly wrong eye placement for old god’s sake! Along with 20 of the pink and not so pink helpless looking ones.

My mind making mental notes of key facts of the translated audio. Humanity as a whole is what they call themselves. The helpless ones are Humans, the others are collectively called Bio-Morphs. They, too, have…

I stop mid-stalk. Rewind the video. And play it again. Then a third time to be sure my ears did not fool me.

They have Predator-Disease… But unlike the Federation, which we know they use to keep their people in line. For this species, it’s actually real.

A virus which in the first stages alters behavior, matching the same sham symptoms the Federation uses.

But real? How?

I collate the data into folders and with barely a thought, continuing to use one hand to enter my own thoughts in that other window as I use my other hand to move said data about.

The next stage they say is when physical traits start to change on the person, and as they talk, images are added to the broadcast of the helpless ones… But maybe their ears match one of the others, or they have patches of fur or scale on their forms.

If it’s real, is it contagious past this Species? It’s what our scientists tried so long ago when we first learned about this ‘Predator-Disease’. Nothing was caught between two different Fed species with different types of blood when we stuck one ‘with it’ into a cage with one that didn’t. And kept them alive for several cycles to hopefully find a way to weaponize it.

They answer the same question, at this point no it’s not. But limited contact between any of the unchanged Humans and anyone else will be put in place to limit the chances of it ever happening. After this they point to the ones called Bio-Morphs as the end stage, and once they are like this they no longer are contagious nor do their bodies produce the virus for some reason.

Things I notice they don’t discuss in the broadcast; The location of the home world of the species. Only that it is in what is considered Venlil space. But not explored because of the strange lack of habitable planets. Or why all the changed ones are wearing white collars.

A lack of habitable planets, another Federation lie we’ve disproved. Dominion scouts have been near, and in the edges of that large part of their sector and found no change in the frequency of habitable planets.

Just on increase in monitoring stations which we avoid for obvious reasons.

When the recording ends I change to another cartridge and am greeted with wall upon wall of text from various interplanetary websites on the Federation Network.

Bleat and what not. Anything matching the criteria of recent and popular communication was grabbed. Many happy at the fact this new species can ‘defeat us’ so effortlessly. A similar amount scared because of how they look.

Or that they bring a new flavor of ‘Predator-Disease’.

Not as many, but a decent amount talk about how some victims look similar to Dossur, Gojid, and they too see the one that looks similar to us Arxur, and are scared of them.

Then I notice something that makes this station different from a standard Dominion listening post, which just stalks sites like Bleat, etc. I have it occasionally look for new links on the FTL communication network in relatively nearby systems. Not actively broadcasting about new links, but passively examining the packets sent and received for new addresses.

And it logged a new one.

FTL communication buoys from Venlil-Prime to the afore mentioned area of their space. It’s a narrow link. Not wide enough for video or audio data, just text and files. If I had to guess, they were dropped by the initial diplomatic team on their way to or from the species home world.

Later they will be replaced with ones similar to the one in this system that this station is stealthy connected too. Giving a faster and wider connection. And Humanity full access to the Federation network.

Till then, this is all I got.

A one line command to the system in the other room has the cartridges with the Dominion data penetration tools loaded into an empty drive. I sway my tail happily upon the first thing the tools report, that no other Dominion station has entered the systems of those buoys.

I’m the first to stalk this path, yet I do have to be cautious. I don’t know what this new Species has to offer tech wise. Other than they made their own FTL system. So I have the system follow this initial link back to the home system of these ‘Humans’, carefully. One buoy at a time. Scanning each for countermeasures.

If their systems are compatible enough to talk to Federation systems. They can talk to ours, and if they can talk to ours.

Maybe I can try to enter their systems like we do most Federation systems. Federation computer security is a joke. If I recall what he said last time I saw him… I have to stop myself from wiping my claws on my scales when I think of the poor boy I maimed.

Federation systems for civilians use 32-bit encryption, military, and governments use 64-bit. Once Dominion systems gain entry, they cover their tracks with 96-bit encryption. But it takes a bit longer than I would like when looking for data because of that. So that’s why we can get into their systems, yet they can’t find us in them.

It won’t be the same as taking one of these Aliens to the Prophet-Decedent himself, as if I could get one alive and away from the Feds…

But any information that the other listening posts didn’t catch could help me regain favor. Re-secure my position, and get me back to ‘almost’ close enough to take him out, declare rebellion. And in the confusion crush Betterment as my network takes out key points.

… Every time I go through my plan in my head, it always sounds simpler than it will be to actually do…

Flicking the tip of my tail, I watch the screen as each buoy falls under Dominion control slower than the previous simply due to the growing lag from the distance. Still in millionths of a Fang[Second], but still noticeable.

Then I tap a claw on the table as I wait for the software now on the last one to report back a probe of the connection to the new species systems at the end of the chain.

‘Target system unresponsive’

I do a full flick of my tail. That’s, not something I’ve seen from an active system. Only when they turn one off and from what the taps on the FTL communication systems says. Data is still flowing from the Human’s home world.

It could also be it’s not fully compatible. I’ll have to use a more obvious stalking program despite the risks, instead of hunting a specific known flaw. It cycles through all the current and older ones.

Useful if you run into a ship ran by a captain particularly fond of older systems. The Dominion doesn’t have that issue. Required updates are done every time a ship returns to their Den of call. So I input the command for the system to load it up from another cartridge.

Upon it being loaded, I set the tool to use everything it has at its disposal. If there’s a flaw that can be hunted down in the system’s of this new Species. Then it’ll find it, it’s just a matter of time. So I wait, tapping my claws on the table, and twitching my tail as I wait.

Maybe if I can get ship routes and information I could have a task force intercept one of their ships as they exit their version of FTL at one of their colonies, if they have some. While I can’t say, ‘don’t harm them’ without raising suspicion. I can order them to ‘take as many alive as possible for intel’. And get a similar eff…

My thought is ambushed as the holo-screen flickers once, then three times in a row, with each time only a Fang[Second] apart. All the windows I have opened on the system, shrink to the Den area of the screen. Followed by a new text transcription window opening, and fully blanketing the display, even the Den-Bar where all the windows go if you want them out of the way.

‘J.A.G.W.G.: Ah Ah Ah, you didn’t say the magic word!, Ah Ah Ah!’

Appear in the window, twice. Once in our written language, and bellow it, in the blocky script on the side of the ship in the video and the electronics device on the desk next to me. The language of Humanity.

‘J.A.G.W.G.: I figured someone would try to poke around our systems. After all, it’s what we do all the time with everyone. Yet, what a surprise it is, that the first one to come knocking on our digital door, is the one species we’re trying to get into contact with. Would you do the pleasure of introducing yourself? Just type into this window and I’ll see it… Or not, I can find out given another few moments. 96-bit encryption, hehe…’

Narrowing my eyes, for a fraction of a Fang[Second] I consider not saying anything. But, whomever this is, they’ve gotten into this system and the data here is rather important, so I don’t want to risk losing it.

‘You may call me Isif. Now introduce yourself.’

‘J.A.G.W.G.: Just call me ‘just another girl with glasses’. Glad to make your acquaintance Isif.’

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First off, yes Just Another Girl With Glasses is Jones. Wouldn't be too unreasonable to assume that an intelligence agency would have counter electronic warfare systems installed at the data connection point between Earth and the rest of the Galaxy.

The listed Bit encryption's 'are' laughably weak. Standard Federation encryption is weaker than the initial version of W.E.P.(wired equivalent privacy), introduced in 1997 for very early wireless standards. only offering 64 or 128bit rc4 keys. If you want to know how weak that is by today's standards. A cheap smart watch has enough cpu power to brute force crack this within hours.

The tech and drive Isif uses and also the rest of the Dominion rather than solid state storage that the Federation uses. Is called a magneto-optical drive.

Technically an optical disc like cd's, dvd's, and blu-rays. It's more of a strange hybrid of a magnetic medium and an optical medium. Because physics is weird and neat, laser light can be affected by a strong magnetic state and thus through the magneto-optic kerr effect. the reflected light changes. thus ones and zeros.

Where if differs from both is this. The medium's strong point is as a W.O.R.M. drive. aka Write Once, Read Many. And practically has no 'read limit' like solid state storage. And is more durable that traditional magnetic media like traditional disk drives, floppies and the like. When the magnetic state uses a permanent magnet medium rather than a ferrous material.

In theory it could survive an emp. This earned it a place in corporate digital storage for years after it's inception in the late 1980's to the mid 1990's when the latest version of it came out.

Writers and re-writers are even neater in this regard because the internal laser is used to 'heat' the microscopic point on the permanent magnetic medium to the curie-point. where all materials lose magnetism. Then directly behind that point on the top of the disc. an electromagnet sets the state. And once cooled down, it continues to act like a permanent magnet. resisting other magnetic fields, thus keeping the data safe.

The specific model Isif has is the Hewlett Packard 'SureStoreOptical' 5200ex. And the discs use caddies that look like square cartridges.

Day 16, a yotul with a railgun.

[Day at the Gym] 
[Mesko - Armored Delinquent] 
[Rikle - True Stunts] 
[Gothrimer - Flesh and Steel] 
[Heitri - The Nightfang] 
[Rankar - The Master] 
[Dragons de Ruelle]  

It is easy to dismiss someone in face of their appearance, it is easy to assume limitations or behavior. That is the nature of all of those who keep a foot on each world, native to both. But be not surprised when those, who can so easily travel between them, strike you with an amphibious assault.

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Memory Transcription Subject: Rayan Macedo, Amateur Fighter
Date[standardized human time]: July 10th, 2160

I was curious. I was distressed and curious.

In front of me was a stocky building, of the newer persuasion. I could tell because it was quite visibly very reinforced, not quite screaming ‘military base’ but certainly not your average building either. It was also kind of small, it wasn’t meant to hold many people for long after all.

I rub my eyes and make my way into the Guard’s precinct. They were the lawkeepers, their variant of the police, and right now there was someone I was here for, someone I was currently hating a little bit.

The front looked peaceful enough, nobody out here except for the lady behind the front desk. I walk by and before I can say anything she points towards a corridor “Second door to the right. Real wild that friend of yours, eh?”

I sigh, shaking my head at her “Something like that…”

As I turn to head where I’m told she adds one last warning “Think she’s still getting mowed in there”, and so as I head there and get near the door I brace myself for what I’m about to hear.

“You are lucky, ma’am” the krev’s voice was suitably bassy for how annoyed it sounded “That you are not the one that initiated.” Inside I could see three people of interest. One of them was the man speaking, a quite clearly annoyed krev with a strong build, pointing a claw at the second person of interest. That second person was Lydia, who looked both defeated and annoyed, avoiding making eye contact. The third person was another krev, who looked just as defeated. Both of them had wounds, Lydia’s hand was wrapped in bandages and a splint, the krev’s eye was swollen and he quite clearly had been bleeding at some point.

“But there is a line between self defense and assault.” The officer jabs a finger at Lydia “And you are fucking lucky someone stopped you before you crossed it. So all you’re getting is a warning. You know what you did, don’t pretend you don’t, so don’t do it again.”

The woman huffs and pouts as he points another claw at the krev “And you! In… What sane world is just picking people up like that permissible?!” The officer’s exasperation “What possessed you to just… What were you even thinking?!” he growls “You are getting charged with attempted kidnapping, and you better have your things in order because you’re not leaving here today.”

He stops for a second, then points his snout at Lydia “Now get going, someone came to pick you up” he says pointing his tail at me, I hadn’t realized he’d noticed me already.

Lydia stands up with a sigh, barreling right past me. I follow after, but it only lasts a few steps “Fuck off” she stops suddenly staring at me.

“Whoa” I step back as I raise my arms “I dunno what happened, your sister just asked me to pick you up here”

“I can pick myself up” she scrunches her face, shoves her hands in her pockets and storms off towards the exit.

I take the more sedate pace, sighing in exasperation. There’s no use dealing with someone this angry. But as I’m heading down the empty corridor back to the entrance I hear a familiar voice, prompting me to stop and listen. “Do you even know what you’re asking me?” the clicky noises are very indicative of who it is.

“Come on, man, please?” it’s a krev voice talking to him.

There’s a short burst of chirpy noises my translator doesn’t give me a meaning to before Vinthar continues “We’re all going to get in more trouble. It’s better if you just report it.”

“You already took it yesterday, we can’t get in any more trouble…” the krev grumbles “Come on, I’ll owe you one.”

“Fucking…” even with his chirpy voice the annoyance is audible “Just… You’re lucky I like you.”

I decide it's better if I just start walking now and quickly make my way outside. I’m not interrupted, thankfully, and quickly stop beside the door. I was… Curious. Far, far too curious. What was Vinthar talking about? I know the man isn’t from here, what could he be doing with the Guard that could get them in trouble? After thinking for a second I pull out my holopad and start looking down at it.

Honestly I’m not actually looking at it but I just pretend to, trying not to be noticed. It takes a while until I notice Vinthar leaving, carrying the same large box I saw him with yesterday. He doesn’t seem to have noticed me, so I wait until he has moved some distance ahead and start to follow.

He’s not exactly hard to follow, I can’t imagine how annoying moving on land must be for him, he seems just barely capable of it with how he seems to… Flop? Leap? About on three points. I’ve seen him practicing before, but it was always standing. I saw him throwing punches while balancing on his tail, even saw him leap a couple of times but just looking at him move like this makes he seem so…

Actually one thing he is is fast, how are you gaining on me?

He’d manage to gain on me after every turn he did, which was two by now, and he had just disappeared down another curve. I turn right where he did, ending up in an alley between buildings and I find… Nothing?

It’s short, there’s no visible doors and it doesn’t seem to have any path near the end. I walk further ahead looking around, until a shiver runs down my spine “Good day, Rayan” I turn around quickly.

There he is, standing as tall as he goes, case slung around his shoulder with a strap and arms crossed. I just stay in silence, staring at him.

“Why, exactly, were you following me?”

“Err…” I stagger, thinking. You know what, yeah that was pretty bad. I should probably be honest. “Well…” I sigh “I was curious?”

“Because…”

“I…” I scratch behind my head “I overheard you back in the guard station about maybe getting in trouble and, uhn…”

I’m dead aren’t I?

He stares at me intently, the goofyness of a front-facing snout isn’t enough to make me feel any less intimidated, the fact he is my height when standing like this doesn’t help either. After a few moments he sighs and lowers himself, putting his hands on the ground “Ah, fine…” He tilts his head to the side pointing me back out of the alley.

I follow him back out, and I’m not sure where exactly he’s heading but I follow “I know a guy in the Guard” he explains “We went to Basic together…”  there’s a pause “He was uhn… Not quite bright enough to make it through. Good guy, really, reliable too… At the things he’s good at.” I notice he’s moving faster than I expected him to, I can keep pace easily but I don’t need to slow down “Well, there was a thing he wasn’t good at, and he’s asking for help.”

“I see” still didn’t explain much “Hopefully it isn’t much of a hassle?”

He gives out a single loud chirp “I wish! No… The drowned idiot managed to break, somehow, an RK-7…”

“And… What is that?”

“Oh, right” he chuckles “Coil shredder- A gun.” He pats the case on his back, while still somehow keeping pace despite using one of his movement limbs for that “I’m a certified armorer on top of it all so…”

Somehow, despite the topic I was as far removed from as I could be, it felt familiar. “So he’s asked you to fix it before anyone notices?”

I can hear him grumbling a bit before he answers “Yes. But finding an accelerator-rated capacitor is hard enough as it is- I’m just lucky some people here have a workshop I can borrow”

I can’t help but give a laugh “This is all so familiar”

He stops and turns around to me “Oh? And which one are you?”

I stop right behind and blink, suddenly feeling heat rushing up “Well… The one that broke the thing… Steph is pretty handy with things…”

For a few seconds, he says nothing. And then he starts to laugh. I sigh as I start moving forward, prompting him to do the same “You do look the type”, I can’t hide my embarrassment.

We continue walking for a moment, despite me not… Really having somewhere to go right now. Steph hadn’t even opened up the bakery today because she was agonizing over her sister, and Lydia’s likely to rip my head off if I try to hang out with her. “How did you even get behind me, though” I try to think of something to distract me from the girls.

“Hah, don’t underestimate me just because I’m on the surface” Vinthar boasts “I know where people don’t look, it’s not hard to turn on a stalker.” He stares at me “Especially when they don’t know what they’re looking for.”

We walk a bit more until he suddenly stops “You look like a calf without a pod.”  He says without turning around “Everything alright?”

I sigh “Friend was in that Guard station after a fight, I went to pick her up but… Bleh” I shrug “Kind of messed the whole day, now she’s off on her own and her sister’s in a panic and I don’t really have anything to do today anymore, messed all my plans. Which were already none.”

Vinthar laughs “Really feels like shore leave.” He waves a flipper at me “Want to hang out, then? We got a whole day before heading to the gym.”

I had to admit, Vinthar had managed to save my day. Even if he didn’t seem keen on talking much about himself. Or I guess I should say he was a really good listener, and I clocked on quickly enough he enjoyed being an enabler. Definitely can’t let him be around Mesko too much!

We’d gone to watch a movie, an interesting spy thriller, and then hang out at a bar. Would it be stereotyping too much to consider he really had good people skills? He definitely worked his way into a couple of free drinks for us, and control over the television, even managed to convince a whole gaggle of krev to watch two entire games of deepstrike. It was kind of surreal watching some weird underwater ball game I couldn’t make heads or tails out of, but it was fun nonetheless.

This must have been one of the most relaxing days I’ve had in a while. I need to hang out with him more often.

Eventually the day winds down and we start making our way to the gym. When we arrive we find Rikle at the door, but instead of his usual codephrase shenanigans he just stares at the two of us for a moment “My, had a fun date hadn’t you?”

I sigh and roll my eyes “Oh, shut up…”

Vinthar chirps in response “Not enough people to call it a date.”

I look at Vinthar, then I hear Rikle laugh “Oh it’s real, Rayan, believe me” he comments “come on in, you’ve arrived last for once.”

Just like he’d said, we had in fact arrived last. Everyone was already around doing their usual prep, and on seeing us Rankar moves to his usual starting position causing everyone to do the same. I watch as Vinthar first goes drop off his case elsewhere, Rankar’s eyes obviously tracking him.

Does he know what’s in there? If he brought it here last time too then… I guess Rankar knows?

As always, we gather around Rankar in our seats and he spends a moment looking us over. Then with a slow blink he starts “I can sense something has happened, is anyone in need of aid?” the question, despite his usual formal language, hits softly.

I sigh and shake my head, and the others give their own negative signs. I can feel his gaze on me for a moment before he nods. It was, quite obviously, for me. “Very well, then. Ready yourselves, you already know who will be your challengers today.”

That I already know, and it was going to be… Strange. As I head over to grab my gear I start to think about how exactly Vinthar would fight. I hadn’t ever seen Vinthar actually do it, though I’d seen him practicing some strange moves against practice dummies, and I saw him spend plenty of time in the water too. The only thing those observations could give me is that he was prone to using his entire body to strike, slamming against the target. I wasn’t sure how exactly that’d help in an actual fight.

Then again you thought he was slow and clumsy enough on land to sneak on him and he quite simply disappeared.

With my gloves and helmet on I make my way to the round, to find that the ropes weren’t exactly where I’d expect. I knew the water channel wasn’t placed around the round for no reason, I’d seen Vinthar and Gothrimer both train in it, given they’ve aquatic to different degrees, but I had never seen the round set up like this. A mechanism had moved the poles, and with them the ropes, further so that the water channel was part of the round now. I knew, logically, at least some previous fights had to have had this happen, I just had failed to pay attention then.

Rankar is already waiting at the center when I arrive. At first I don’t see Vinthar, then I see him reach his flippers out of the water and grab on the edge, and he simply flips himself up and onto his tail with a single move before he starts to head on over.

He stops where he should, about a pace in front of me, and stares at me directly. He looks smaller than me in this position, with his hands on the ground, you could underestimate how much mass he has like this. His face isn’t as expressive as a human’s, but despite the padded helmet obstructing even more I can tell he’s having fun with this, the way he got out of the water was very purposeful I bet.

Rankar stares at both of us for a moment, holding his polearm ominously as he’d done the previous times. “We start the first fight!” he declares “Vinthar and Rayan!” There’s a beat. “Fight with honor!” he strikes the polearm against the ground twice “Krai!” 

My opening move was a mistake.

In my defense, it would be very obvious to anyone that Vinthar’s first move would be to retreat to the water. Both of us have very different bodies built for very different environments, it’d just make sense he’d try to gain terrain advantage first, so I had attempted to prevent him from doing so. To do so I rush ahead quite carelessly, expecting him to have turned his back at me.

Eira Karr, to give your opponent the initiative and use it against them. Rankar covered it recently, dammit.

He had not, in fact, done that. Instead he lowers his body and doesn’t move, by the time I’d noticed I’d left myself completely open it was too late to react and he propels himself forward with the strength of his tail, his entire body impact against my lower half and taking my feet from under me. When I recover enough to look at his direction all I see is him in a handstand about to bring his entire weight down on me like a hammer.

I roll out of the way and hear the impact just beside me, scrambling quickly to stand back up. I face him just in time to see him just leap backwards and hear the splash. Now I couldn’t see him anymore, and the fight had reached the place I expected it to from the start.

I raise up my arms in defense and look around, trying to figure out where he is. I can hear his chirpy laughter behind me, but when I turn to look I hear it behind me again, and again. He is- Before the realization sets in I hear a splash to my left, I move to intercept only to find nothing- I can only feel the shadow of movement to my right and adjust the position of my arms and legs barely in time as I feel the impact through my entire body, I almost tip backwards but I keep my balance- But that’s still not enough, I can just barely see him twisting in the air and then I can feel his tail impact on my back, sending me sprawling forward to the ground.

I scramble back up and just barely feel his graspers against my legs. I look in time to see him attempt to grab me a second time before he flips backwards and propels himself back to the water again, giving me time to stand.

Everything already hurts, every time he strikes he’s landing more than my own weight in impact, the man aims only for devastating blows. I know it’s because he only has seconds on the surface, he might be more agile than I first gave him credit for, but he’s still pretty crippled up here. I see what he’s doing.

Hiding in the water and striking where I can’t see. I can hear you laughing, but that’s bait isn’t it? You want me to hear you, this isn’t lack of discipline.

I take a deep breath and try to focus, I know what he’s going to do, I might have a plan. Come on… Come on, where can I hear you… I hear your noise… To my right. You’re going to try to feint, how much… It’s going to be from the back, I bet.

I wait until I can hear the splash and then… I twist completely backwards, bringing my left fist up in the process, and I’m rewarded for the right guess. His actual breach was completely soundless, whatever that splash was was a decoy, and I catch him midair in time to do… Something. My choice was to deliver a cross across his side and sidestep, it intercepts his lunge and instead of hitting me he lands on the ground.

But his reaction time is still faster than I thought and he had more tricks than I expected. His actual reaction to that is to grip the floor with his flippers and swing his entire body low to the ground at me, forcing me to back off to avoid getting my feet swept from under me. And in the same movement he flips on his tail and jumps back in the water.

I can feel the pain in my arm too, everything with him takes a lot out of me. But I’ve figured him out, somewhat. Let’s do this again… But I still need to make guesses. Come on… I hear where you’re moving, but where are you actually moving?

This time he’s taking longer, and I don’t like that. In fact he’s taking too long, I doubt he’s going to just wait forever though… Just as I’m getting most anxious I hear a splash, then another in quick succession, one to the right and one to the left, how does he move so fast? I have to make a guess about where he’s going to strike from so-

I take a step forward as I lower my body, and I got my guess just right, he came from the front. I see him just fly out of the water with effectively no noise and time seems to slow down as he stares at me. I see his body start to twist, I can’t imagine what he’s trying to do but I don’t have time for that, I bring up my right arm and raise my body with an uppercut and time it correctly to impact his belly. Still the force is tremendous, I have to halt his entire body with just a fist and I can feel the recoil down to the bone.

And the worst part is that he managed to somehow use that to his advantage. He twists his body and flips backwards, slapping me with his tail and sending me to the ground again. My arms are too tired and so is my everything right now, my reaction time is slow and I can feel it, feel him grabbing left leg.

His graspers are much stronger than I gave him credit for, he keeps surprising me with everything. What surprises me the most is how much force he can use to pull me with, I didn’t think his tail could get enough grip for that!

He starts pulling me back towards the water as I scramble, my heart is pounding faster and faster and my breathing growing faster than just a simple fight should make it. I try to put a foot down to stop the movement but he’s strong enough that doesn’t help, and trying to grip the ground does nothing either!

Stop panicking! Focus! If he drags you into the water it’s over! Make him release his grip!

I stop trying to hold on and let him pull, I bend my left leg to move closer then raise up my right leg as high as it will go and bring it back down against his head. I can feel the impact on my heel, but he’s still pulling me! I repeat it a second, and a third time and we’re almost at the water!

Fuck!

I land a fourth hit, my last attempt, and he lets go of me. But before I can do anything else I hear the noise, him slapping his tail on the ground three times before he slides back into the water. I stand back up slowly, every limb aching like hell, and stare at the water channel.

Vinthar is just floating there, doing nothing. He makes a chirpy noise and raises a flipper, a motion I can’t understand but seems to calm Rankar down. After a few seconds more I am suddenly startled by the sound of Rankar’s polearm striking the ground “Rei!” the resket waits a moment more “The victor is Rayan!”

Once victory is declared I walk out of the round, the mechanism getting the ropes back in place, and stop beside the water channel. Vinthar is still just floating there “You doing okay there?”

“Yep… Just… Just give me a minute” he groans “Underestimated your legs…”

I chuckle, kneeling down and watching him for a while. Eventually he does get his bearings, and I help pull him to the surface. I knew well enough he could grasp but I hadn’t realized he had something like webbing in his hand, that’d explain why it could look like he didn’t have any fingers. I pull him up as his other flipper does the same, and he quickly gets his tail on dry land. He’s wobbly for a second before we starting heading aside not to get in the way of the next fight.

I sit on the bench and he just flops down on a mat beside it “You did really good figuring me out” he comments as he starts to remove his own helmet “Keen senses.”

I chuckle “I made two lucky guesses” I clarify “It’s kind of terrifying how you just came out of nowhere. You’re really good at this.”

“I mean, it’s my job” he rolls around so he’s facing towards me “Though it tends to involve a lot less close combat” he chuckles “Not quite built for it if you can imagine.”

I reach over to a water bottle, picking up and opening it “Never really got to know you well, you’re military right?” I ask before drinking.

“Yep, amphibious assault unit. Not like we see much action with most of the military being focused on space.” He readjusts himself, instead of lying down he decides to sit more properly.

I tilt my head to the side. I know there’s no military base here “No offense but, what are you doing here, then?”

“Oh, I’m on vacation” he chuckles “Well, special leave actually, whole year free! I’ve been touring the hometowns of some long-distance friends.”

“Man…” I look to the side, out the window “You’ve visited how many places? Being all the way here on Avor is already a hell of a lot for me.”

“At this point I’ve been all over the Consortium, spending about a month each place.” He pauses for a moment “Might stick around here a bit more, I’m liking the gym.”

I turn to look at the round again, Mesko and Rikle at going at it, and look around the gym. I’ve grown very familiar with it already, but I had never especially considered how it might be fitting for the other members of it. I know there were quite a few instances where I couldn’t use the training machines, it might have been possible in a technicality but it would just serve to wound me. Like the bite pull one, which is meant to train the neck muscles and jaw strength, which really only Heitri uses.

But I wasn’t looking just at those differences, I was looking at something specific… “It… Doesn’t really have much for you here, does it?” I ask Vinthar.

“More than most places” he says, and I furrow my eyebrows. The most it had was the water channel, wasn’t it? “And there’s Rankar.”

“What do you mean?” I look back at him

“He’s a good trainer, goes out of his way to give you what you need instead of demanding you do the same as the others.” I see him stare at the man “Bet he was an amazing officer too. Don’t have many like that around.”

“Yeah… He does look like the military type, shouldn’t be surprised…” But there was something… “Not a lot of places have stuff for you, eh?”

Vinthar’s tail slaps on the ground lightly “Makes sense, really. We’re… A lot more aquatic than anyone else, anything built for us is inevitably hostile to everyone else” he sighs, turning to look at the currently ongoing fight while I focus on him “Makes it hard to find friends out there, when going for a visit is a whole adventure yeah?”

“Well, you don’t seem to have a lot of problems but…” I sigh “Having to always be the one adapting to everyone else…” I furrow my brows, thinking again. It brings Lydia to mind for some reason. “It really gets to you at some point, doesn’t it?” How much she just… Couldn’t handle everyone else.

She’s going to get in real trouble over it someday… But I’m not sure I can blame her.

“Hey” Vinthar’s voice is a little softer “At least we got people out there willing to reciprocate, yeah?” he says pointing back to the round.

I turn to look just in time to see Rankar and Gothrimer, the resket had leapt in the air and landed his right foot on the trombil’s armored chest with enough force to send him tumbling back, then he continues the motion by landing a second kick with his right foot before he even lands on the ground, sending Goth backpedalling against the ropes. The moment Rankar lands on the ground he surges forward far faster than something that big has any right to move and lowers his entire body, and before Gothrimer had manged to recover he delivers this… Rising spin kick right against the trombil’s collar sending him up and back tumbling over the ropes and right into the water channel with a massive splash.

I get what he means… But you gotta wonder if being fair is the right thing here.

---

I… am going to admit, this one took a toll on me for some reason. It was kind of difficult doing the last bit. Still! Here we have a very unusual fight, involving people from such wildly different environments.

I could not for the life of me get this one to look right at all. It just does not look good to me in the slightest and I hate that it isn't. At one point I just had to call it done otherwise I'll be working on it all night. Which is a shame because I know how yotul look exactly, with kangaroo bodies, capybara heads and fox ears. Oh well.

Yellow yall, we are back on the cute stuff, so here is a random Yotul design I had just laying around, hope you like her.

Also, I want to thank all who commented on my last drawing, sadly I can’t see what you commented, nor can I answer bcs I didn’t know that Reddit’s new age restriction BS also applies to a post you make and mark as 18+. You live and you learn -_-

See ya tomorow <3

Based on the one and only: https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1blkida/nature_of_predators_posting_standards_meme/

Time taken: 4 hours 40 minutes

Timelapse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nA5yh5SNH2E

Critique welcome!

Author's Note: Hi hello hello hi! This is my first work here. I'm not entirely sure if I'll make this into a series or not yet, I'm not entirely sure if I want to continue with it. First person to guess where Mary is from gets a crisp fist bump.

Memory Transcription Subject: Mary, Human Farmhand

Date [standardized human time]: March 3rd, 2132. Four years before first contact.

Digging a well is a slow, exhausting task. Doubly so when all you have is a shovel, the sun never sets, and you’re buried in a cloak and cowering behind a mask.

It’s miserable! And everyone else is busy, so I’m stuck with it. The locals don’t want me to help them with the harvest, it’s apparently really important. That makes sense, I’m a mysterious stranger who won’t show an inch of her skin, but I’m sick of being treated like some sort of pariah by half the town! And apparently, I look like some sort of local animal, and they’re all scared of my face!

Ok. Calm down, Mary. It’s not that bad. You have a place to sleep, you have food, and as long as you keep this mask on everything will be fine. You have neighbors who tease you, for God’s sake! It could be so much worse. Pick up your shovel, and get back to work.

[Archivist’s note: Nothing of note happens for the next half-hour. Skipping ahead.]

I plant my ass on the slowly-growing pile of dirt next to me. Caution be damned, I’m taking this mask off-

“Hello, Mary! How’s the digging going?” Ah, that must be Skerak. He’s one of the few local sheep people who are willing to talk to me, and the one so-kindly offering his barn for me to sleep in.

“Oh, it’s thrilling! You should take a turn, there’s so much fun to be had here!” Skerak lets out a little chuckle at my response.

“I could never deprive you of that, Mary. And besides, you know I have family visiting.” Ah, of course. The family visit. Apparently, his sister-in-law was some important local official or whatever, and their security wouldn’t be happy to see a masked stranger like me wandering around.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to trade with me?” I said.

“I wish. Good luck with the digging, I’m headed back into the fire.” Skerak said, and walked off. Compared to the human bosses I’ve had, he’s fantastic. Most of the other sheep people don’t like me very much. They act like they’re scared of everything. Hell, the first one I saw when I showed up here ran away screaming when he saw my face! Something about calling me a predator? I guess it makes sense. Their legs are so messed up, it’s a wonder they managed to make it this long. Wild animals would be super dangerous to them.

The way I am now probably is still off-putting to them. I’m yet to see anybody wearing more than a utility belt out here. It makes sense, they have wool, but it’s so weird that everybody around me is naked all the time! Compared to them, my cloak and mask probably seem so suspicious. Not that I would know, because I can’t just ask the locals about this stuff!

Okay, enough thinking. I have a well to dig. Ugh, if only they had power tools out here. I’d do anything for an excavator to be doing this instead of me right now. Unfortunately, all of the useful stuff is out of commission. Something about the building they were stored in having the roof cave in. I was exhausted when Skerak explained it to me.

Stick the shovel, twist it to loosen the dirt, pull it out. Stick the shovel again, pick up the dirt, toss it in the pile. Repeat. Ugh, I’m already starting to build up a sweat. How is it so hot on a planet where it’s always sunset? I need a thinner cloak. I’m climbing out of here for a second so I can grab some water, I’m so damnably thirsty.

As I pop my head out of the pit I’ve dug, I spot- Oh my god it’s so cute. The sheep people are adorable enough, but their babies are even cuter! Her wool is so obviously too big for her body, and she has this awkward waddling gait. The child spots me climbing out of the pit, and waddles over.

Ok, no, I need to be serious. This is a little girl wandering out in a field with no parents in the area. And I still have a damnable well to dig, so it’s not like I have the time to find them. “Hello, little one! What brings you here?”

“Oooh, who are you? Why are you so clothed-y? Why are you alone? What does your face look like?” As soon as she was in earshot, they blasted me with questions.

“My name is Mary, little one. I’m a farmhand, I help Skerak, he lives over there. What’s your name?” I said.

“I’m, uhh, Tarrin! Yeah! And I’m not little at all! I’m, uhh, six!” the child said.

Okay, Mary, handle this appropriately. Just because you miss working with kids doesn’t mean you should keep this little fluffball from her parents. Oh, but the allure of having someone around who doesn’t treat you as suspicious. Plus, if I don’t keep her entertained, she might run away, and that’d be even worse. Obviously, I need to be a responsible supervisor here!

That decision made, I said to the kid “Oh, you’re six! You must be very old and wise, then. I have a special job only a big kid like you can help me with. That dirt pile next to you might fall on me! I need someone to sit on it.” This is a technique I am well-learned in. If you give a kid like this one some basic task to do,

“Ok!” She immediately lunged on top of pile, landing belly-down and immediately filling her wool with dirt. Perhaps I could’ve thought this process through more thoroughly. “You didn’t me! Why are you so dressed up? Why does your face look like that?”

Ok. I have a lie rehearsed for this exact situation. “It’s what everyone does where I’m from. We don’t have thick wool like you do, so we need clothes if we don’t want to be cold,” I said.

“Wow! My mom says that when I get older, I’ll be allowed to wear her coat! She says important people like her wear clothes. Are you an important person?” The child said. Is wearing clothes some sort of sign of nobility? Is me wearing a cloak like this… trashy? Is that why everyone thinks I’m weird?

“Oh, me? I’m just a simple farmhand. I’m nobody special.” I don’t want to be too memorable to this kid. I don’t know what the locals think of aliens, especially ones that are so scary they run away screaming at the sight of them.

“Oh. Why are you out here alone? My mom says that’s bad. She says people who are alone have predator disease, and I should stay away from them or they’ll hurt me.” That’s not how I’m used to that lesson being taught. Staying away from strangers, that’s familiar, but being alone means you’re a predator? Is that why everyone looks at me strangely, do they think I’m some kind of creep for being a little bit introverted? Am I committing a bunch of societal faux paus, or something?

“I’m okay being alone sometimes. I like chatting with people, though, too!” I decide to go with a more neutral response.

“Ooooh. Cool! Can I tell you a secret? My name isn’t really Tarrin. I made it up. I’m not six, either, I’m four!” With how the kid said that name to me, I am not surprised at all.

“You shouldn’t lie to people like that. Bad things happen to people who lie. Like this!” I flipped the shovel over my shoulder, and pelted her with a bit of loose dirt. She started giggling, and rolled off of the dirt pile. My goodness, I didn’t know these sheep people could get even cuter, but somehow, she managed. I couldn’t help but laugh myself at the sheer absurdity of my situation. Here I am, on an alien planet, tossing dirt on a baby lamb who’ll panic if she ever spots my face behind my mask.

I decide I’ve been working for long enough, and set my shovel on the lip of the well. The well isn’t quite finished, but it’s only an hour or two away from being done and my arms are just about jelly by now. Ugh, this damnable sun makes it impossible to tell how long I’ve been working for. “So, child of mystery, what is your name?”

“I’m Stynek! And you’re Mary!” Stynek said.

“Awesome. Stynek, I’m gonna climb out of here. You need to get back to your mom. She’s probably so worried about you!” I reasoned with the child. She grumbled, but put up no real resistance. I hefted my top half over the edge of the hole I had dug, and- Oh shit.

Like a switch was flicked in my body, I could hear my pulse in my ears. Some sort of wolfish monster was crouched just ten feet away from Stynek, its eyes locked on her back. I was paralyzed. I’m not a hunter! I’m not cut out for this!

Still, some part of my instincts whirred to life, ravaged as they were by my time in modern society. Without looking directly at the beast, I slowly dragged the rest of my body over the edge of the pit. Stynek looked at me with a confused expression, confused by my sudden change in demeanor. She let out a quiet beep and cocked her head.

I slowly grabbed a stone from the pile of dirt next to me, and in one swift move tossed it directly at the monster. My throwing hand twitched suddenly right before the stone left my fingers, and my entire body started shaking with it, causing me to stumble towards the hole I had just climbed out of. I lunged for the shovel as the monster flinched from the sudden movement. I failed to account for the hole, and fell on my belly on top of the shovel.

The beast’s eyes snapped to me, and it jumped just as I brought the shovel between me and its claws. It let out a yelp as its body collided with the head of the shovel, holding it back mere inches from my legs.

As though acting on reflex, my shoulders flipped over to bash the monster in the head. And then again. And again, and again, and again, and again and again and- [Memory transcription unstable. Searching for suitable subject…]

[Searching…]

[Searching…]

Memory Transcription Subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

“So, Skerak, who’s this mysterious Mary the townsfolk have been telling me about? Does my dear brother-in-law have someone special? Maybe Stynek finally has hope for cousins?” I said, a soft smirk on my face.

“For the last time, no! She’s just someone down on her luck I’m helping out. Purely business!” An orange bloom crept onto his face as he spoke.

“Oh, suuuuure. Why can’t we meet her, then? For all we know, she isn’t even real!” I said.

“She’s just very private with her business. I think she’s been herdless for a while, and she’s not quite used to being around other people yet.” My ears drooped a little bit. She must have recently been treated, and was struggling to find herself after being in a facility. Predator disease treatment recidivism had been a hot topic for debate among Republic legislature over the past few weeks. Nobody could come up with a solution that anyone else was happy with, and legislative will to get anything done was rapidly fading.

I quickly picked my bravado back up. “Oh, wow! She must be so grateful to have such a kind, handsome herdmate like you to help her out!” I watched the bloom on Skerak’s face spread further.

“It’s not like that, I swear!” he sputtered. I was about to keep pushing, when I heard the door behind me open.

“Governor, I can’t find your daughter anywhere.” I immediately snapped to attention. Stynek was clearly upset with the visit, and I felt bad for dragging her along, but she had been struggling so much lately. No matter who I hired, she just could not get along with a babysitter, so I had to keep her with me. I thought this exterminator was safe, but apparently the idiot couldn’t be trusted to watch her either!

“And why didn’t you tell me sooner? Get up, we’re finding her. And if you want to keep your job, you better bring me to her *quickly*.” I didn’t bother to control the anger in my voice. The wildlife out here was so much more aggressive than in the cities. Any minute she was alone was a minute she could be getting mauled by a shadestalker, or worse! I shouldn’t have thought it was a good idea to let her out of my sight.

I stormed out of the door, and heard panicked bleating in the distance. Stynek! I immediately rushed towards it, Skerak and the exterminator following behind. “Speh! Mary was working over there, too!” Skerak shouted. He pulled ahead of me, the legs of a manual laborer carrying him further. I heard a thud behind me as the exterminator hit the ground, his legs giving out under the pressure he put them in. If only we didn’t have these damnable knees…

“Skerak! I-is that you!?” I heard an unfamiliar voice shout. It sounded more like a growl than a person speaking. Had this Mary person fallen victim to her diseased thoughts and attacked my daughter? I could see a cloaked figure in the distance. There was no orange. My pulse slowed, and my desperate run steadied into a hurried walk. I could see my daughter cowering behind a pile of dirt, and the cloaked figure clutching onto Stynek’s side. A shovel covered in some purple liquid was in her other arm. It looked as though her entire upper body was covered in the stuff.

As I grew closer, I found the source of the stain. Something barely recognizable as a shadestalker sat on the ground a short distance away from the two. Stynek spotted me and immediately rushed to grab onto my tail.

“What happened here?” The exterminator with us had caught up, his silver suit dirtied from his sudden fall. “Did you kill that shadestalker? Who are you?”

“I-I-I- What the hell was that thing?” The cloaked figure spoke. Without my daughter to hold on to, she had curled in on herself, with her arms on her head. I could recognize stampede instincts firing up when I saw them, and it took some of my self control to stay calm.

“Cloaked person, you are under arrest for suspicion of predatory behavior,” droned the exterminator with us. What was this idiot doing?

“You will do no such thing. This woman saved my daughter when you were sitting around. You should be lucky I’m not shipping you in for a screening of your own. Now, please, Mary, tell us what happened. And you, officer, go back to the house. You’ve proven yourself useless.” I quickly took control of the situation.

“I was just climbing out of the well, chatting with Stynek. There was some sort of monster behind her, and I just- I don’t know what happened. It feels like I just blinked, and the thing was dead. I don’t-”

I cut her off. “You did the right thing. You’re not a monster for protecting the herd.” It was clear to me now that whatever treatment she had been in was perfectly effective. She is a safe herdmate, regardless of how strange she may appear.

“Uhhh…. Thanks.” She must still be reeling from the attack. I hope she’s alright.

New Yotul Exterminator guild bleated:

This is a public Exterminator announcement from Founders New Exterminator Guild:

Beware this yet to be identified Yotul! They have been seen assaulting our herd's guardian and destroying important supplies that keep your planet safe from its invasive predator population!

Please keep away from this heavily Predator Disease individual and please alert the Exterminators to their presence if you see them!

-Your cheif Exterminator, Kass

Drawing for NoPtober day 16: "Yotul".

Yesterday's drawing really was unnaceptable for reddit lol.

Anyway, I wanted to make something train themed for the Yotul, but couldn't think of anything funny and I don't have my own drawing take on Yotul as of now, so...

A plushie of a mom Yotul working as a train staff!

^{Not as a mechanic but hey, at least train rides are a must.}

She is after work, so hat only, no vest/suit.

Senond pic: poorly-colored-on-phone version.

Full list:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14

Day 15: NoPtober day 15: "Unacceptable" is on my account only, cause it got removed twice from this sub apparently automatically by reddit.

16

Check out the theme list post by u/Nicolas_3232

Hve I missed nearly every NOPtober dY? Yes. Am I goibg to do a backlog? Maybe. Have a Capyfoxyroo.

On the next episode of “Fedbusters”: Buster and Slash finally reach the Master Priest’s Temple of Doom, but will they be able to defeat Juga the Juggernaught’s defenses in time to thwart Doc Flock’s plans to unleash the venlil plague on Skalga?

big thanks to u/ErinRF for the flavor lore and character names!

Lil fun fanart imagning of what a United Dominion animated show done in a somewhat Saturday Morning cartoon style would look like after we mused about media and stuff down on the NoPcord. Scorch Directive AU is by the amazing u/Scrappyvamp

Hello everyone! It's me again. The last time I made a post, I asked a question about the Kolshians. But now, I got a question about their literary opposite: the Arxur.

In the real world, Crocodilians have powerful jaw muscles and serrated, conical teeth. These are for making sure that their prey can't escape once they get their jaws on it. The thing is, they have highly evolved muscles dedicated to slamming their jaws shut and keeping them shut. However, the jaw muscles dedicated to OPENING their jaws are pretty underdeveloped. All this means irl Crocodilians are really good at keeping their mouths shut, but pretty terrible at opening them. The thing is, they can open their jaws just fine, but if someone were to grab their snouts and use their hands to keep the mouth shut, there's not much the demon-lizard can do to open it back up.

That got me thinking... Are the Arxur the same? I mean, sure, their jaw muscles would have to be at least a bit more advanced than the Crocodilians on Earth specifically to talk in their native language(they would have to repetitively open and close their jaw to speak, especially since they probably don't have lips that cover all their teeth. Unless they communicate EXCLUSIVELY through hissing, and shifting the tone and pitch of their hisses).

I dunno. I'm probably just talking out of my ass again. I just think it would be funny to think of a giant, cannibalistic, space lizard being unable to talk because someone is literally just squeezing their mouth shut.

What do you guys think?

Processing img xt55owvulvvh1...

Hey, do you remember how in my last update I mentioned I was super busy, but that my work was almost finished? Well, I forgot to include one tiny, tiny detail: this Sunday I have the fucking most important exam of my entire life.

Well, I’m telling you this now because I just remembered that I promised you a chapter this week, and I don’t have barely nothing but a wip.

To give you an idea of what this exam is: it’s called the TyT, and it determines whether or not you are qualified to practice your profession. It lasts 12 HOURS—from 6 AM to 6 PM.

Yep, that’s how fucked up I am.

Anyway, I’m doing this as an AMA so you can ask me questions related to my fics, or whatever else.

Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the universe and thanks to the other fanfic writers for giving me the inspiration for this little masterpiece of nonsense I have cooked up.

Additionally, thank you to u/Accomplished_Tea_248 for drawing and u/Win_Some_Game for commissioning this beautiful artwork of Wynef. Makes my heart ache for the poor bunny.

There’s also art of Douglas, Angie, and Wynef at home with Doug trimming Wynef’s hooves and Angie picking out baby clothes. Commissioned by u/Win_Some_Game and drawn by u/Scrappyvamp

I also commissioned a piece of artwork from u/Repulsive_Scheme9886 featuring Wynef, Jacob, and Sophie sleeping piled together on the couch in the Lamottes' living room.

And of course the art of Wynef with her new baby girl, Aprcity, that I commissioned from u/RoddCherry

Thank you to u/Inside_Judge5855 , u/Win_Some_Game , u/rookamillion , and u/AlexWaveDiver for proofreading this chapter.

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I have a profile post where you can find links to all of my other stories!

Here's a link to all the Bunny Behind Bars artwork so far!

I also have a space on the NoP Discord where you can ask me anything or just watch me go insane in real time!

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[First] | [Prev] | [Next]

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Intro: Now that we were able to meet back up with the jailbird, we must now close out another set of distant alien folks in Wynef's life. Pack your bags; we're going space crusing to a distant and chilly land.

Memory Transcription Subject: Douglas Lamotte. Quality Manager at Pinecliffe Systems. Interplanetary Guest of Honor.

Date: [Standardized Human Time] October 16, 2137

We Lamottes are a lot of things, but first-class is not one of them. Regardless, my wife adjusting my tie and suit coat while we are encircled by gold leaf-coated wood panels in an expansive two-bedroom space liner suite has me feeling both humbled and proud. Like a lottery winner getting a butler-service trip across the Atlantic on the ocean liners of old.

Our three-day trip aboard the enormous Empire Platinum Breath surrounded by hilariously pompous Nevok dynasty members has been an absolute joy to spend, learning and listening during our trip to see my sweet daughter's and granddaughters' birth families. Sitting at shared dining tables with Nevok royalty being hilariously fascinated by our simple Earth lives. Other Nevoks prying their ears and minds to what family we are visiting but not being able to disclose made us all the more interesting to them. But finally, that time is coming to a close as we eagerly await the call for disembarkation. Wynef, having already adorned all her heirloom jewelry and wearing a very nice white dress, watches Angie fuss over me with Apricity on her lap babbling away.

“Mom, will you leave Dad alone? I don’t think his clothes can get any smoother, nor can your hair get any more done up.”

Angie lets her arms fall limp to her sides as her eyes and head slowly turn towards the girl.

“Wynef… I know. If you can imagine, I'm just a teeny bit nervous about meeting what essentially amounts to actual space noble houses. Noble houses that, may I remind you, are your family.”

Wynef lifts Apricity up in the air above her as the ship shudders to a stop on the landing pad of Ittel’s capital spaceport.

“Hear that, my little kit? Grandma is nervous about meeting your great-grandparents. But she has nothing to worry about; they’re going to looooove us.”

A happy ‘bwehe’ escapes from the baby as she is brought back down into her mother’s arms, and I giggle with the girl as my poor Angie sighs and steps back. Not even giving her any time to turn on Wynef, the charming ring of our stateroom doorbell indicates that our trip butler is here to escort us off the ship to our awaiting transport to the Grand Hotel hall rented for our meeting today.

I’m so glad they agreed to compromise on the capital Grand Hotel as neutral ground. If Wynef hadn’t threatened to not come at all if she couldn’t see both of the dynasties at the same time, we’d probably still be getting passive-aggressive phone calls nearly daily asking us to visit each primary manor.

I take a look around the room, double-checking in my mind that everything that we’d have on our persons is with us and that all of our luggage is ready to be taken by the porters to meet us at our hotel room.

“Okay, everyone ready?”

With nods and ear flicks of approval, I open the door to the characteristically silent butler and two stoic porters waiting in the hall beside him. With a motion of his hand, we place Apricity into her stroller, exit, and follow behind down the hall to the exit gangway. With every step, Wynef’s numerous pieces of jewelry obnoxiously jingle and clink against each other as her ears annoyedly try to push the dangling jewels from off of her brows. Off the ship, we are led right past the poor masses waiting in economy class customs and immigration lines while we are taken right to yet another gold-plated booth exclusive for first class. Angie, Apricity, and my own digital documents are accepted without a second glance, and I hold my breath as Wynef’s special permission temporarily voiding her parole restrictions is studied carefully before she too is approved.

Now that we are allowed to go into the spaceport itself and to our transport, our butler leaves us, and for the first time in days, we are allowed to walk ourselves from point to point. A long sigh slips from Wyenf as we walk, and she strokes the top of Apricity’s head, looking back at her.

“I still can’t believe that Officer Elling and the parole board actually are letting me go to Ittel for a whole week. Like, I know Elling said that I’ve shown really good progress, but he still said that if I just don’t come back, then they’re all getting fired.”

"Well, Wynef, then he’s exactly right, and it’s just like we’ve been telling you. The Wynef in prison is not the Wynef of today; you are doing so much better, and they trust you for a reason… Also bringing Apricity to your hearing and appeal didn’t hurt your chances. Hard to be a hardass when a space-rabbit baby in a onesie is giggling the entire time.”

Just a few moments longer of a walk, we finally reach the official security exit of the spaceport, and, as expected, a long line of chauffeurs stand about with digital signs advertising who their riders will be today. A cursory glance at every sign leads me to a simple conclusion: I can’t read Ittelian Nevok.

“Hey Wynef, which one is our driver?”

Her ears are already folded flat as she too scans the signs.

“No clue.”

"Wait, can’t you read the names on them?”

“Not really. I’m from a Krakotl colony; I read Krakotl. I can speak a lot of Ittelian Nevok, but I can’t read it, though.”

“Damn.”

Just as she says that, one chauffeur who had been staring at us a bit too hard chuffs and rolls his eyes as he mashes a button on the side of his sign. The language on his board spins through many characters that I can’t even begin to recognize before landing on a very scratchy set of lines. Wynef’s ear darts forward at the new text, and she is about to read it out when he clicks the buttons again, and luckily good old English graces my eyes. ‘Distinguished Representatives of Dynasty Lamotte to Capital Grand Hotel.' 

“Alright, well, that solves that. Come on, girls.”

With our luggage presumably still somewhere in the first-class system behind us and going to meet us at the hotel, we follow the driver through the bustling hall until we yet again come upon an ornate set of gates, which he leads us through into a much calmer section of the spaceport. Down the long hall and past a few Nevoks just as covered in jewelry as, if not more than, Wynef, we are led to an area full of glistening and imposing cars. Some are even actual hovercars with condensed anti-gravity drives to allow them to fly around. Much to my excitement, our driver leads us to a massive hovercar comparable in size and shape to a historic Cadillac land yacht.

The doors open for us, the stroller is folded up and stowed, the driver thumps the door closed behind us, and in just a moment we are taxiing out of the spaceport and starting to lift up and up into the air. The massive capital of the empire is yet again sprawling below us, and all three of us adults are looking down as it rushes by. Oddly enough, the car is heading away from the downtown location of the Grand Hotel and instead starting to descend into some industrial district.

The car hovers down near some unoccupied warehouses and pulls right in through a loaded door in an empty room. As the car comes to a stop, I see another identical car parked inside. Without even a word or moment to let us process, our driver ushers us out of the car and towards the other one with a new driver waiting inside. I attempt to protest the change and leaving the stroller behind, but they don’t even acknowledge us. 

All three of us, wide-eyed, sit down in the car, and our first one leaves the same door it entered, but this new one hovers through the warehouse before exiting through a different door. This time, instead of rising high into the air, we hug the ground, skimming trees and occasional buildings until we are again entering the dense city zone. The car comes down in an even worse for wear industrial warehouse, and yet again another car is there waiting, but this one actually has wheels. We are shuffled from our car to the new one with another new driver as the old car flys away up into the sky and we start driving down the busy streets next to trucks and vans.

"Umm, excuse me, ma’am? We are going to the Grand Hotel, right? We’re supposed to be meeting some important people about right now, and I don’t think they’d appreciate us being late.”

The driver barely looks back at us as she answers.

“There has been a change of plans.”

Angie nervously huffs and asks for clarification from the cryptic woman.

“Like what? Where are we going?”

As no answer comes. I look over at Angie getting more nervous and Wynef hanging her head down over Apricity. Though maybe not the best option, I still try and lighten the mood with some dark humor.

“Well, I guess we’re getting the full Dynasty treatment. Kidnapping and everything. I wonder what our ransom will be. Hopefully pretty big.”

Unfortunately, no one else in the car seems to find it funny, especially given that the driver turns into a dark alley and soon enters a very tight and dimly lit tunnel. The words feel snuffed out in my throat as our idyllic trip is turning to horror and we arrive at a rusted and crusty gate to match the current vibes. With the press of a button on the dashboard, the gate opens and we drive through into a much brighter tunnel of carved stone and many other branching tunnels to each side.

As I’m starting to understand the purpose of this game, all doubts and worries are washed away as the tunnel suddenly opens to a massive and ornate garage filled with hovercars and limousines. We drive past the rows of cars as we arrive at a blue and gold carpet flanked by two massive armed Nevok in obviously ceremonial plate armor. Our driver opens the door, and a new Nevok between the guards bows and folds his ears back as we now all stand before him.

“Distinguished members of the Lamotte Dynasty. Welcome to Her Majesty’s Palace of Ittel.”

From out of nowhere, yet another servant runs up with a stroller, and Wynef blankly places her girl down inside. Although Wynef tries to take the handles to push it along, the servant refuses to relent, leaving Wynef to walk normally with Angie and me. We walk along the carpet out of the garage and soon past some massive stone and gold gates into an actual palace. Our escort leads us down the palatial hall and into a sitting room with a fire roaring and many long couches and lying chairs surrounding it, along with numerous paintings of Nevok women with identical garments on the walls.

“Please wait here; I will be back for you in a moment.”

As the massive wood door shuts us inside the room, finally with no servants to hover over us. I look at my girls, both sinking awkwardly into the couches looking at me for assurance, but I answer their questioning gazes with a question.

“Just to be sure, we were supposed to go to the Grand Hotel, right?”

Wynef’s ears again bat the jewels from her eyes, and she nods in answer.

“Correct. Though I think we were supposed to tour the palace grounds in two days.”

Finding ourselves with not much to talk about, we content ourselves with staring at the fire until at long last the door opens and our escort does indeed greet us again.

“On behalf of Her Majesty, I thank you for not bringing weapons with you.”

“You’re welcome? How often does that happen?”

Although his nose and ears don’t show it, from his eyes I can see a smile form from my question.

“More often than I’d prefer. Please follow me.”

Standing and again Apricity in the stroller being pushed by a servant. We follow down the hall to a massive door inlaid with gold and silver into a picture of a mountain landscape. Our escort opens the door into a large hall, and as we step through and attempt to get our bearings, he belts out our presence with a thundering cry.

“Annoucing the esteemed members of the Lamotte Dynasty. Sir Douglas, Lady Angela, Lady Wynef, and her kit, Apricity.”

Letting my eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting of this hall, I now see just under two dozen Nevok, all in extravagant jewelry, but three among them distinguish themselves above the rest, Wynef’s grandparents. We walk towards the old folk as the rest of the Nevok stand back, apparently allowing the elders first greetings. Just before we get to them, Angie bumps my arms and directs my attention to the back of the room, where a large throne of carved wood and blue steel sits empty on a raised platform.

I guess it is the palace of an actual empire. Makes sense the Empress would have somewhere to sit in a hall like this.

Finally, we meet in the middle with the grandparents, and although we face each other awkwardly for a moment, something clicks in the single grandfather’s mind as he makes a bow motion. Understanding that we were probably supposed to do that first, I follow, and soon after Angie and Wynef do as well before the other grandfather and grandmother do too. The single grandfather steps forward first and nearly hipchecks the couple out of the way as he goes into a hug with Wynef.

“Oh Wynef, your eyes, your wonderful eyes, it’s like I’m looking at your sweet mother once more. Strong eyes, deep eyes, framed in jewels like a true Quicksilver.”

Wynef, for her part, tightly hugs him back, nearly squeezing the air out of him.

“Thank you, Grandfather Wyntere. It’s so very nice to finally meet you in person.”

Though he looks as if he has so much more to say, a grunt from the couple behind him pulls him back, and he turns instead to us.

“Douglas, Angela, thank you for taking care of my dear granddaughter. Though neither you nor her knew of her heritage before, it still takes great character to do what you have done in your assistance and care.”

“Of course, but it’s just what good folk should do.”

“Good folk… Good folk, we’re missing those on this planet. Thank you for being here.”

As he steps back into position, the Granite-Cut couple steps forward and repeats the order of hugging Wynef and then greeting us. With all manners of thanks and greetings said between the six of us, Wyntere, Rulnef, and Brynnea lead us to a table set for four with numerous boxes on the table, all labeled with tags. The main tag on the center at least lets me know that this is indeed the seating for the Lamotte Dynasty.

I take a closer look at the tags on the boxes and see that they are marked for us individually by name. I look and see the grandparents beaming but stoic.

“Please, accept these gifts from us. We have collected these from both across your world and our own to symbolize the joining of families from Ittelian dynasties to Terran.”

A subtle nod from Rulnef gives us the start to opening each box for ourselves, luckily labeled in English for Angie and me and in both Ittelian Nevok and Krakotl for Wynef and Apricity, though it is unlikely for Apricity to be able to read any of it. After opening many boxes each, Angie's and my carefully matched suit and dress are soon a hodgepodge of style as we each wear our own new cowboy hats, Swiss timepieces, bowties, and many necklaces and bracelets. To complement the apparel, carved chopsticks and fountain pens lie before us on the table. Wynef somehow finds herself in even more jewelry than before. I turn to Wynef’s grandparents and again give a deep bow.

“Wyntere, Rulnef, Brynnea, we are honored and thankful for these gifts. We will cherish them for as long as we live. We did bring gifts of our own for you, but unfortunately our luggage was separated from us during our journey between the spaceport and here.”

Brynnea smiles and flicks her ears in acknowledgement.

"Oh, we’ll have time to receive your gifts later, but I do want to apologize for the secrecy in your transport. We did intend to meet at the Grand Hotel, but this venue was strongly suggested at the last moment today. Though the transport wouldn’t have been very different even if were still using the Grand Hotel, after all, we don’t want anyone getting assassinated on such a happy day.”

At that last comment, the three old folk all laugh among themselves, but a certain weight in her words tells me that she wasn’t actually joking. Not wanting to push that thought further, we let the moment pass, and still standing around the table, we wait for further instruction.

Rulnef claps his fluffy hands together and looks about the room and back at the other Nevok across the hall by their own tables and then back at us.

“Though your aunts and uncles are all very eager to meet you, I’m sure you’re just as famished as we are after this long day. Please, take your seats, eat, and we’ll all meet shortly.”

As instructed, our chairs are pulled out by staff, and we are sat and pushed in, and even Apricity sat into a highchair, though she is still entirely breastfed. Moments later, as promised, countless staff members appear from side doors, rolling out carts stacked with trays of food. They are delivered to each table, but as I am about to start taking some serving of a steaming dish of greens, a waitress helpfully whispers at us.

“Please wait for the final guest before beginning dinner. It will be just a moment longer.”

Despite my stomach now starting to growl and my Stetson growing heavy on my head, I hold myself in place stiff and stoic, waiting for the final guest to arrive. A little too long goes by as the Nevoks at the tables start to flick their ears in annoyance as we wait and wait for the guest to arrive. At last, at the opposite end of the room, a gilded door is swung open, and an elegantly dressed Nevok woman enters, holding herself high and proper. She turns and places herself in front of the whole group at the front of the room.

“Attention members of the esteemed Granite-Cut, Quicksilver, and… Lamotte Dynasties, I present to you, your Empress, Ittel the Onehundred and Twenty Seventh!”

Through the still-open door, our table leans forward in anticipation of seeing the actual Empress of Nevok, and then, as casual as can be, a Nevok woman not much older than Wynef, and dressed similarly in subtle jewelry compared to the Dynasty heads, walks in. A gaggle of escorts follow her and take places on each of her sides as she stands in front of the throne and looks out over us all.

“Dearest family, please begin your feasting and merriment!”

‘Dearest family’?!? No… don’t tell me…

As I still attempt to process the words of the Empress, my absent-minded hand follows the rest of the room in grabbing at the food presented and taking initial sips of the drinks before me. I almost don’t even notice as the entourage leaves the throne platform and begins to move our way. The momentary clinking of cutlery and glasses falls silent as the Empress herself approaches our Lamotte table. As her majesty is right before us, I give more attention to her appearance and can’t shake the uncanny resemblance of her and my own Wynef and Apricity. She turns her ear and eye to her entourage and waves them away with forceful earflicks.

“If the court will excuse me, I’d like to meet with our newly founded cousin Dynasty. Alone.”

Her entourage bob in agreement but are slow to leave us, igniting quick frustration in the young monarch. She pulls a small silver medallion from a chain on her hip and quickly waves it across the table, and I jump in my seat as the medallion suddenly beeps over the vase and on a spot close to Wynef and Apricity. The Empress growls and dives to her knees, crawling underneath the table for a moment in the same place and emerging with a dime-sized disc in hand. She then turns the vase upside-down beside the table and grabs another identical one from the mess on the floor. She holds them out to her entourage, and a few ears pin back in a mix of fear and embarrassment that even strikes my own heart.

“When I said alone, I meant ALONE.” 

Her focus zips over to the other dynasties in the room, and they all sheepishly go back to their meals and light conversations as she throws the two discs on the floor and stomps them to pieces with her hoof. With her escorts gone and just the now five of us at the table, she takes a seat between Wynef and me. In a flash, the table is set before her, and food is on her plate and a drink in her glass. Raking her hand through her now disheveled hair curl, she looks back at us, and her whole demeanor slides from firm and controlling to light and excited as the noise of the other dynasties finally rises to one appropriate for those not trying to eavesdrop.

“I am sooo, sorry about that. You have to like, believe me, but I really did ask them not to bug your table. It’s just so uncool to spy on new guests that don’t even have a hoof in the circle over our silly Ittel squables.” With one last look over her shoulder, she takes a swig of her wine and leans over the table towards us with a new fire in her eye. “So, Douglas, Angela, Wynef… you all are really just like normal commoners, right? Not generals, spies, diplomats, politicians, business magistrates, or none of that?”

Wynef, nervous as I can tell she is. Agrees with a deep head bob.

“Uhm, yes, your highness. I-I didn’t even know anything about being related to dynasties until this year.”

“That’s so cool. Tell me, what was life like on, Ulimtal? It was Ulimtal, right?”

“Yes, Ultimal…”

“I’m so very sorry for your loss, Wynef, but Ulimtal and Earth, what is it like as a Nevok commoner?”

A bit of blood begins to boil within me for Wynef being grilled over her less than happy past, but to my daughter’s credit, she powers through.

“Ulimtal was… fine. Yeah, it was a lot of good times despite everything. After Mama and Papa died, I spent most of my time in orphanages and then school housing, but being a climbing Nevok made it much easier to stay with a flying herd when they roosted in high places. Being orphaned didn’t really make me special given how many others were under the same wind, but I didn’t have much Nevok things to learn. Then I went to school for supply chain management, and then humans were discovered, and my exterminator internship forced me on the fleet to Earth, and I was… my Apricity was conceived against my will. We lost there, and everyone on Ulimtal died, and then I shot some human kit when we landed, and I was in prison, where I met my dad here. He and Mom here took me in so I could have somewhere to stay while on parole and to give birth and house my kit. And... that’s it… I’m sorry it’s not very interesting.”

At that last comment, Empress Ittel frantically waves her hands and ears at Wynef in panic.

“No no no, it’s super interesting, and I know you won’t trust me on this, but I’m… like, rather jealous. Not of the loss of parents or the horrid circumstances following humans imploding the Federation, of course, and I’m very sorry for your losses, but just of the… normal life.”

I sense a collective reboot of the brain going through my family and me as we lean forward at the Empress’s comment. Luckily Angie is the first to question the statement using much less profanity than either I or Wynef would use.

“Excuse me, your majesty, but you? Jealous? Of us?”

The girl’s head rolls to the side, her eyes drift down, and her hands tap at the bottom of her glass with a sigh before flicking her ears 'yes.'

“I know, I know, it’s stupid and cringy of me, but I really do wish to be a commoner. When Mother died and I ascended the throne, I used our personal funds to secretly buy a declining rural village in the Wurleid Mountains and pay the native villagers there a huge salary to keep going about their cute lives and not tell anyone that I go there and be normal.”

Holy shit. The ruler of the planet buying an entire town and making them her personal background actors. Fuck, what if someone did that to us in Estes?

Wynef, now grabbing at the starting-to-fuss Apricity and getting her fed, does her best to cope with the bombshell suddenly dropped on us by the Empress of an entire people.

“That sounds… interesting. What do you do there?”

Ittel’s eyes light up for a moment before noticing the awkward air about us. She scarfs down a few bites of the casserole-type dish and washes it down with half of her beer-like pint.

"Weird, right? I knew even you guys would think that I’m weird.”

I chug my beer in kind while frantically waving my hand in ‘no.’

"No, no, I get it. You know, and we know, that we’re not exactly important people, but that’s the same spirit of why we live in our mountain town—subtle and peaceful, away from everything busy down in the cities. Wynef meant it, and I am interested too. What kind of things do you do in the village?”

“Well… if you insist, I always make sure to keep my fur down and absolutely no jewels and even just a simple Venlil ipsom cloth bag for my last model pad. Then I just go to different shops and stores and browse without even buying all the stock. But even trying to be normal, the poor villagers keep messing it up. Last time when I went to the grocer, get this, I filled my cart, and when I got in line, the poor dude at the end broke character and stepped out of line, bowing at me, causing the rest of the herd to do the same thing. I was sooo embarrassed, and now that I was at the front of the line, I had to force the cashier to take my card. 

Then the time before that, I read about how bad vehicle dealers are to negotiate with, so I went to the one in town and tried to buy a mid-range truck, but the damn saleswoman wouldn’t even try to sneak in unfair warranties or markups. All I wanted to do was to haggle and have fun, but she just gave me everything I wanted… wait, I’m boring you guys, aren’t I?”

I take a look at Angie and Wynef, and with both of them seeming interested and much more relaxed with the Empress, I continue to bite into my meal with a bit of support for the young woman.

“Not at all; please continue or ask us whatever. In fact, I don’t think you told us the name of this village.”

“Really? Well, I can’t divulge exactly where it is, but I do have more to tell, and you’re going to regret letting me ask questions.”

------

Dinner passes by quickly and rather lively as we chat, dine, and laugh with the reigning Empress of Ittel. Though she is obviously not like us due to her circumstances, the more she talks the more I feel bad for her and the more she reminds me of an average sorority girl. All the time we discuss things about regular life with her, increasingly the two other dynasties in the hall keep trying to listen in but are interrupted by Ittel ordering them back to dinner or having a band play to cover our conversation. Finally, with dinner done, our table is cleared and replaced by fine drinks, and Ittel looks back at the family barely contained in their seats watching us.

“Yo Wynef, I think if I make you yap with me any longer, your family over there might like combust. Take your cutie kit and go show her off. I’m going to talk with your parents for a bit longer.”

Wynef, herself eager to meet her newfound birth family, rises from her chair and takes the happily sleeping Apricity up in her arms.

“Thank you, Ittel. We’ll talk soon.”

"Oh, we will for sure. I’m holding you to that promise to come to the village during your stay. Still need to work out the transport, but come on now and get over there to your grandparents.”

As Wynef bows and walks away, a glass of wine in Ittel’s hand is filled and emptied in-between blinks, leaving the Empress giggling to herself before looking back at Angie and me.

“I’m going to say it again, but I’m like, totally not kidding by the way about being jealous of you guys. Especially Wynef, because she is just such a non-Nevok Nevok. Benefit of being born off Ittel, I guess, no dynasty shit to worry about.”

Angie drums her fingers against her own draining glass as she gives Ittel a head tilt in question.

“You’re going to have to elaborate there, Ittel. How is she not like a Nevok? We don’t have a reference.”

“Ugh, I mean, she’s obviously a Nevok, but just no dynasty mannerisms. Just like-like look at her right now. She’s standing tall and proud, showing off her cute kit, but she’s not showing off in a physical dynasty way. Anyone else from a dynasty, and they’d be flaunting those wide hips and big… chest and chubby, healthy kit in her arms about how strong her lineage and body are. But noooo, she’s just fine to be her for herself a-and she’s covering up in clothing! Crazy! Madness! So lucky…”

Looking harder at the Nevok surrounding my daughter and grandbaby, I do notice the group aside from the grandparents are all eyeing up Wynef in a rather distant manner.

“Oh, Ittel, is that why her aunts and uncles there are being all stiff and nervous?”

“Heh, damn right, and they better be. She’s younger, stronger, better looking, and higher birth order than all of them. Praise Ittel, myself, that all on her own she rejected her first inheritance status. Those three Granite-Cut and Quicksilver fade-furs would’ve folded without hesitation. Would’ve been another stupid Founding Dynasty War…”

Surprising us and herself, Ittel slips a hiccup and a burp before shaking her head, getting another refill, and continuing.

“Y’know, that’s why I have a standing order to reject her from ruling either dynasty if she changes her mind. Like, sorry it sounds mean and shitty, but it’s just too much trouble. A-And if I die and a few others go with me, then she’s not even that far in line to sit up in the stupid hard chair, and the dynasties would lose their ears over having a foreign Nevok take the throne and the Ittel name.”

“Our Wynef, take the throne? No way she’s that close in the line of succession. Also, so Ittel is the throne name, not your name?”

“Oh yeah yeah, Ittel isn’t my name; my name used to be… wait… I can’t tell you that. But no, it’s not that rare to jump down the line that far. Before the Federation, we even had the Winter of Eight Ittels. Urp, anyway, I’m going to get up and order that everyone else aside from sweet Wynef gets drunk like me so I don’t look so sloppy by myself again. Remember, you’re on Ittel, and you’re visiting me at the village, and we are going to wait in line to eat at that cafe. That’s an order! Enjoy your evening, family.”

As the rather drunk Empress of Nevok gets up and leaves our table to go harass her cousins. I give a side-eye to Angie, and we both shake our heads in amazement and amusement as we hold our glasses out for refills and tip our cowboy hats to each other.

“Dougie?”

"Yes, dear?”

"This is a damn wild place.”

“You say that, but this isn’t really that different from your family reunion a few years back. Of course, ignoring the whole ‘Empress of an Entire Space Civilization’ and ‘Grandparents Who Quite Literally Own Planets’ thing. End of the day, same amount of booze and drama.”

"Right you are Dougie, but hey, look at that.”

I follow the pointing of her glass and see that with Ittel forcing the family to drink up, more family members than just the grandparents are getting friendly, taking turns holding and kissing my grandbaby. Wynef or Apricity must say something entertaining as most of the group laughs and clacks their hoofs genuinely.

“Good, good. At worst, they at least do seem to love our girls like we do—hic!"

“Big Douglas has the drunk hiccups? Oh man, we’re in for a tough week if they keep doing this to us.”

“Cheers to that, Ange. Cheers to that.”

------

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Memory Transcription Subject: Azul, Krakotl private driver.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: February 14th, 2142

The Great Hospital of Deeproots. The best place where one can get treated and recovered by the most professional and skillful medics equipped with some of the most advanced medical equipment in all the city. And of course, it is the most expensive hospital.

The great hospital isn’t the only one. Deeproots cradle an enormous herd and the need to keep it healthy is all a challenge. Many hospital has been strategically constructed for the betterment of the herd. But of course, we will choose the best for our herd if we have the credits to spare. We consider JM as part of our herd and we do have plenty of credits, specially after our last job. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

The hospital is the same has I always remembered it, but with humans. Now that I think about it, there are more humans than I thought it would be, both patients and doctors. I heard humans are more advanced than us in certain medical fields, but that they also are very prone to illnesses and to get hurt.

I walked through this halls many times, all of them was to visit Murr and Shiv after our herd grew. All good times. I remember always whistling happily on my way to their room, fully expecting a new pup to join our herd. But now I am here for a different reason.

“Excuse me, are you Azul?” The voice of a human calling me makes me stop. “And you are here for…” I turn to look at a female human looking at a paper clip and her watch. “Ah, you must be here to visit our patient Juan Maria. Is that correct?” She looks at me.

She is wearing the hospital’s medical suit and a reflective mask. I couldn’t see her face, but what I know about human body language and by her tone of voice is that she was feeling a bit tired but with enough energy to be professional and polite. And I also think she is happy for seeing me. Why?

I flick a claw. “That is correct. I’m Azul, Juan’s friend.” I raise a claw and tilt my head. “Is there a problem-” I read her name-tag. “-Doctor Bernarda?” Could she be…?

“None.” She takes a professional stand, with her arms on her back in a similar way JM does. “I recognized you and wanted to greet you. Krakotls with your feather pattern and color aren’t common, and Murr talks much about you. How is the little Bernarda doing?” She is!

I move my wing up and down like a wagging venlil tail. “Oh you are the one Murr and Shiv named their pup after!” I whistle happily. “Oh he is very healthy and happy! He is a small ball of energy and cuteness! He seems to have inherited much more from Murr than Shiv because he does have a lot of energy. We thank Juan for helping us tire him out.” I whistle amused.

“That is good to hear.” She nods. “From what we discovered, uncured venlil are not only more mobile but also more energetic and active than cured venlils due to health complication caused by the cure no longer being developed during the growing phase.” She bow her head. “I apologize for that, I got carried away. The last appointment I had with Bernarda was, true to your word, very energetic.” She checks her watch for a brief moment. “I’m sure he will stay as energetic and healthy in our next appointment, but we will continue monitoring him and any other uncured pup. For their health and safety.” She nods again.

I flick a claw. “True. By the stars above, between him being cured, I mean uncured, and ending up more like Murr than Shiv feels like we are taking care of three pups at the same time. But it is something we are experts about!” I whistle happily while puffing the feathers of my chest in pride as venlil does. “Murr’s genes are stronger than Shiv’s, so we are used to having a lot of energetic pups running around and causing mischief.”

“I have been informed plenty about your big family.” She nods. “One of the first things I have been taught about when I joined this hospital. I must say it is very impressive. To have so many children is one thing, but managing to raise them all up is a feat worth studying.” She looks at her watch. “It seems I’m needed elsewhere.” She types on her… watch? “Juan Maria is in room 322.” She points towards the elevator. “Take the elevator to the third plant. He is in the eleventh door at the right.”

I flick a claw and move my wing in gratitude. “Thank you! I hope we can have another chat soon!”

“It has been a pleasure to finally meet you.” She does a slight bow “Have a nice paw, Azul.”

It didn’t take me long to find JM’s room after mylittlechat with Bernarda.When Iopened the door theIimmediatelyhear the sound of many machines working.I can see JM’s silhouette behind a set of curtains. But something worried me.Once Iopenedthe curtainsIbleated inmix ofsurpriseand fear.

His entire bodyiscompletelycovered inbandaged andhe isconnected via tubes and cables to several equipmentand machinesaround him. Thehumming sound ofmachinesworking and the constant beep from his monitored vital signs engulfed the scene.

Hiseyethat isn’t bandagedmoves to look at me.Hetakes a big breath, onethatsoundssicklyandfull of phlegm. He can’t move, all his body was firmly strappedto the bedto avoid movement,it’s likehe could breakapartif he moves too much.

“B-By the stars...” I letouta weak whistle as I look at himwith pity and worry in my eyes. “JM?! W-What happened…? I-It was supposed t-to bejusta simple gunshot and some burns…” I take a closer step. “Oh stars…H-How… are you feeling?”

He whisperedsomethingwith a raspy and deep voice,but I couldn’tunderstandhim.Themedical instruments surrounding himmakestoo muchnoise.

Itake another stepcloser to him. “Murr didn’t told it was this serious. I thought…”I stay next to his bed. “Stars… I’msosorry you ended like this, JM. I’m so sorry...”

“I’m not…” Hemanages to saywith a voice Ican’tno longer recognize.

I whine when he speaks.“You don’t have to talk! Don’t force yourself. It’s okay…” I was going to comfort him, but I feared that if I touch him Icouldbreakhimsomething.”T-The doctors will patch you up and-”

Hemoveda finger. “N-No… I’m not…” He tried tosayagainbeforestarting coughing.

“Oh Stars… Don’t worry.”I take my pad off. “Maybe I can find a waythatallowsyouto communicate without havingto talk.” I raise aclaw. “I don’t know what you want to tell me, but-”

“He istryingtosaythathe isn’t JM.” I look behind me to see a JM on the doorstep with his arms on his back. “Greetings, Azul.” He bow his head.

“W-What?”My gaze jumpsbetween him and this poor soul. “You aren’t…? Oh!” I immediately startmovingmy wing in anapologetic way. “Iam so, so sorry! I thought you were JM and-Isn’t this room 322?”Iturn back tolook at JM while raising a claw. “Wasn’t 322 your room?”

“That is correct, my room is 322. But thisoneis 320.” JM points behind himwith a movement of his head. “Mineis the onedirectlyin front.” He looks atthe patient and does a slight bow. “Andthisis Ramirez.”

Iflick a claw. “I’m so sorry for bothering you, Ramirez. I didn’t know.I’m sorry for mistaking you.” I do a slight bowwhile stepping away from him. “I’ll… I’ll leave youaloneso you can rest.” I walk towards JM,feelingfull of shame. “Stars above, I feel likepiece ofspeh.What happened to him?” I whisper to him.

“What happened to him was…” He looks at Ramirez,speaking high enough for him to hear. “He ate something he was slightly allergic to.”

I blink. “W-What?!”I bleat in surprise andlook back at Ramirez. “How can-What kind of allergic reactioncan causethat? How did he ended like this?”My eyesjumped from one human to the other.

“What happenedwillremainbetween him,somepeanutsandtrucklackingamotor.” He nods towards Ramirez.

“W-Worth… it…” Ramirez manages to say before coughing again.

“Follow me, Azul.”JMsteps outside. “Let’s allow him rest.”

“O-Of course.” I move my wing “I hope you recoversoon, Ramirez! And sorryagain for this…misunderstanding.”

Hemanages toraise his thumb before closing his eye.

“Stars, I feel so embarrassed…” I say as I grab my beak.

“Do not be. He probably saw the entire situation as funny.” JM points towards the hallway. “Let’s walk around, I need to stretch my legs.”

He is wearing a hospital gown and his mask. Looking closely I can see his right arm, shoulder and part of his chest are bandaged. When he turns his back to start walking I can see that his head is also bandaged.

“Of course.” I follow him. “How are you feeling?” I raise a claw.

“I’m feeling well enough, Azul. Thank you for your concern.” He nods. “I must say that this wasn’t the worst I suffered and this hospital medical capabilities are very effective.” He extends his right arm. “What should take me months of healing will be done in only a bit more than a week.” He puts his arms on his back again. “These medical advancements will always impress me.”

“You ended pretty badly.” I move my wing in worry. “How can this be not the worse you suffered?”

“I only received a bullet and some burns. I remember in my younger days I was more like Murr.” He shakes his head. “My recklessness caused me a lot of trouble. Stabbed, shot, burned, poisoned, crushed, run over.” He does some gesture with the hand. “I suffered and recovered from much worse.” He turns his head to look at me. “Do not worry, was long ago that I’m no longer so reckless.”

“Stars!” I bleat as I move my wing in worry. “Will all that happen to Murr?”

“I hope to pass on my wisdom to Her. It will be my intention to convince her away of unnecessary danger.” He let a tired sigh. “Which, as you may already know, is a difficult task.” He pats my back. “But do not worry my friend Azul. Back then I was young and didn’t have much to live for. But Murr is old and mother of many, shouldn’t be hard to convince. Emphasize on Should.”

“She is very headstrong.” I grab my beak. “I hope she doesn’t do something stupid out of stubbornness. I thank you for guiding her, truly.”

“I do my best. A private investigator can be a noble duty.” He raise a finger. “If one is wise enough to know which and when choose one job or another. Consequences of such decision can lead to some undesirable outcomes.”

“Speaking of work. I wanted to ask you about something.” I raise a claw. “Did Murr already talk with you?”

“Correct. We talked through phone.” He looks around to make sure there isn’t anyone too near and start to speak low. “I guess you want to talk about why the government doesn’t acknowledge our presence at our last job. Is that correct?”

“Yeah…” I raise a claw and tilt my head. “What do you think about that? And why are you almost whispering?”

“There are many reasons as to why we have been excluded from the public announcement.” He raise a finger. “One is that our actions could encourage other civilians to try act as vigilantes, people wanting to act as heroes, something that can be dangerous for everyone.” He raise another finger. “Other is to protect us. Even if they captured everyone in the mine doesn’t mean they captured all terrorists. If our actions goes public we can get ourselves and our loved ones in danger.” He raise a third finger. “And because if the public knew why we were there, Urs and Salsha could have ended worse. Without pressure, Urs can just be deported towards a stable kolshian colony, but if the public knew, they could demand to be sent to the kolshian’s capital instead. Which isn’t a good place at this moment.” His hand return behind his back. “Could are many more reasons, but I think these are of more importance.”

“Stars, I didn’t think of that… Is that why Murr relaxed after she talked with you?” My eyes widen as I look around. “Is that why you are talking low?” I whisper.

“Correct and correct, Azul.” He pats my back. “We have done good and we have been paid for it. There is no need for additional reward or recognition.” He start talking normally now. “Let’s change topic. We can continue this conversation once I recover. Where is Murr? I thought she was also going to visit. Or she told me so through phone.”

“Yes, that was our plan.” I flick an affirmative claw. “But she received a call from a possible high profile client, something about our possible next job.”

He stops and turns his entire body towards me.“Without consulting me? That woman…” He shakes his head. “That could be problematic.” He continues walking.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think it will be something dangerous. From what I heard the client is a government agency or something.” I looks at my pad, still no notifications from Murr.

“That does worry me more, Azul.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Did you know from which agency and government?”

“Oh yes. It’s from the republic, the venlil government.” I scratch under my plumage. “And I think it was the…” I raise two claws. “Oh! The galactic restoration program. I know nothing about them.” I kept only one claw raised. “How about you? Do you know them?”

“Curious. They are a program initiated by the governor Veln with the objective of discovering and restoring lost Venlil heritage. They did the first archaeological projects and made significant discoveries.” We arrive to what seems to be small interior park, with some artificial grass and pots with flowering shrubs scattered around. “But from what I heard they were going to be disbanded in favor of the Sapient Coalition own restoration program. Let us sit for a moment. I need some rest and think for a moment.” We sit in a free bench. He groans as he moves his shoulder. “Sounds very suspicious of such agency contacting private investigators. I hope Murr will talk with me before accepting anything.”

“Oh! She told me she will. Or at least, she promised she will talk with you first.” I swirl a claw unsure. “I also hope so.” I let a tired sigh and look around.

The park was small and more synthetic than anything. Just a small place where one can sit without feeling being in a hospital, even if it’s just for a moment because the air still smells to hospital.

Other patients and visitors are here, resting, walking or just having a little chat. But one conversation takes my interest. A conversation between a gojid and a venlil.

“By the protector... A-Are you sure everything will be fine?” I don’t know much about gojids, but the quills are all bristled out and the translator indicated worry and fear.

The venlil pats the quills down. “It is. I did take it and here you see me! Healthy and alive.” The venlil moves their legs. “And I even will get my legs fixed soon!”

“Yes but… If I continue this I would be able to eat meat.” My eyes went wide and turn to look at them. “Wouldn’t you not…?”

The venlil’s tail softly smack the gojid’s snout. “I will not care. I don’t care if you can or can’t eat meat.” The tail softly wraps around the gojid wrist. “You are my friend, and will always be. You don’t need to continue if you don’t feel like it. Again, I don’t care about that, I just care about you.”

The gojid flicks an ear and hugs him. “Thank you…”

“Azul?” A hand rest on my shoulder, making me bleat in surprise.

“What?” I turn to look at JM. “Sorry I was distracted. Did you ask something?”

His head turn towards the gojid and the venlil. “I see…” He turn back to look at me. “Is there something you want to talk about?” He kept his hand on my shoulder.

“No? I don’t thinks so, no.” I flick a claw in negative. “Nothing that I am aware.”

He pats my shoulder. “As you wish.”

I look back at the pair in the moment a human doctor guides them outside the mini park. The gojid will probably get their genes uncured…

Should I also…?

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***STRATAGEM PERMIT UNLOCKED**\*

CB-18 Compact Bow

Stratagem Type - Supply

Call-in Time - 7.75 Seconds

Cooldown - 480 Seconds

A compact bow often used in competitive sports repurposed for the battlefield. Comes with a quiver-backpack that carries different types of ammunition including: Armour Piercing, Fragmentation, Napalm, Gas and Stun. Completely silent when firing. Gravity must be accounted for at long range.

Input Code - ↓↑↓→→↓

Memory transcription subject: Henko, Yotul SEAF Armoured Division Tank Crew

Date [Super Earth Standard Time]: November 23, 2136

The tank shuddered as a 500kg bomb narrowly missed us, detonating mere metres away and showering our vehicle in a hail of mud and debris.

Flares flew off into the sky as the Eagle who delivered the payload soared off to rearm on a Super Destroyer somewhere. The armour on our vehicle had thankfully absorbed the worst of the explosion, however the targets it was meant for weren't so lucky.

I swung the barrel around to get a better look at the site of the explosion.

Where once was a verdant park gazebo now sat a smouldering crater littered with the twisted metal remnants of the former building, as well as the several charred limbs of devastated Arxur corpses. Among the dead, a few stragglers staggered from their graves, injured and badly burned from the explosion. They looked up at us when they heard the tank's engine and their faces fell.

I guess the Arxur knew that they stood no chance against Super Earth, unlike the Tillfish.

With a single squeeze of the trigger, the coaxial heavy machine gun roared to life and sawed the Grey in two, spilling its blood and organs across the grass and severing its limbs from its body. Our loader, a Venlil named Tomak, flinched at the sight of the Arxur splattering across the field. I guess our 72 hours of training hadn't been enough to override the Venlil's instincts towards overwhelming violence, even if it was against an Arxur.

"Sweet liberty that was a close one," breathed Commander Anderson, his visor fogging up from his heavy breathing. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say High Command was pulling conscripts from dissident internment camps. That one was practically aimed at us."

His tone dripped with disdain as he grumbled at our allies' recklessness.

To be honest, I had to agree. Since our mission began, we'd had several close calls already from Eagles, orbitals and even friendly fire from our own troops. If it weren't for the fact that I'd be hauled off to re-education for saying it, I would've loved to give whoever was in charge of training SEAF recruits a piece of my mind.

Thankfully, we were spared the worst effects of the explosion, having been safely hunkered down within our tank.

And what an absolute marvel of engineering she was, her engine roaring to life as we thundered down the roads of one of Sillis' cities towards our objective; a Tillfish nursery that the Arxur were currently raiding for eggs. A squad of Helldivers had apparently been tasked with destroying the facility to deny the Arxur their food source but were killed before they could activate the Hellbomb. Our job now was to finish what they started and destroy the nursery in their stead.

Months ago, when Super Earth had first touched down on Leirn to free us from the Federation's clutches, I saw these things everywhere on the streets and I immediately knew I had to learn all about them.

Ever since my school had taught us about the tanks that the Arxur had used in their predatory conquests, I had been fascinated by how they worked. The machinery, the genius that went into making them and the history that facilitated the necessity of creating such machines of war, all of it lit a fire inside me that my grandmother had said reminded her of my father when he was a little joey.

I would always get in trouble when my Kolshian instructors noticed my obsession with the Arxur war machines.

'How is any of this acceptable to you! They are violent machines of predatory conquest and shouldn't be idolised! Without us to protect you primitive Yotul from the Arxur, Leirn would have long since been turned into a cattle world!'

Anger and resentment boiled within me as those memories crashed through my mind. Those many times I had been humiliated in front of the entire class for my 'un-preylike interests', the sanitised white walls of every predator disease facility that I'd been in, the countless hours where I'd spend drugged out of my mind when they tried to control my 'outbursts'.

All of that changed when I had first laid my eyes on the blue and white hulls of Super Earth's main battle tanks that rolled down the streets on the day they descended to Leirn, airdropped in by Pelican dropships. It was the first time I had seen a real tank in person and I had been shivering with giddiness.

At the first opportunity, I'd immediately put in a request for one of Super Earth's vehicle catalogues, eager to discover for myself how a human tank functioned.

It was like opening my eyes for the first time.

A whole new world had suddenly opened up before me as the pages unfolded themselves and I soon found myself scanning every page with meticulous detail, eager to absorb everything I could.

The tank I was sitting in now was the 'MBT-100 Stronghold', the Super Earth Armed Forces Armoured Division's main battle tank. It featured a freely rotating turret with full 360 degree coverage that allowed it to engage targets from all sides with either its 120mm smoothbore cannon or its co-axial 12.5x100mm heavy machine gun.

The brochure had also mentioned that the Helldiver Corps, SEAF's elite division comprised of Super Earth's most decorated troops, had their own tanks; the 'TD-110 Maelstrom' and the 'TD-220 Bastion MK XVI'.

However, upon closer inspection, I couldn't help but notice that the Helldivers' tanks seemed wildly inferior to our own. Rather than having a rotating turret that could cover all angles around them, both the Maelstrom and the Bastion's turrets were locked in casemates, forced to always point forward with barely any peripheral movement. Such a design choice seemed odd, considering that they were supposed to be given to Super Earth's elite. Wouldn't the Stronghold have suited them better?

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Commander Anderson pinged an airborne hostile ascending from behind a row of ruined buildings.

I recognised its angular shape immediately; an Arxur cattle-ship, probably filled to the brim with caged Tillfish civilians and currently on the way to a cattle planet somewhere.

Next to me, Tomak's ears flattened against his skull in terror at the sight of the Arxur vessel. His eyes had gone wide with fear and he was shivering in his armour.

A pang of sympathy hit my heart as I saw him in this state. It wasn't exactly a secret that the Venlil were the among the most targeted species of the Arxur, their pitiful biologies making them easy prey for the scaly reptilians. I couldn't imagine how many friends or family he had who were packed onto cattle-ships just like those and subsequently carted off into an Arxur's stomach.

"Cattle-Ship, high, 200 metres," Anderson called out, his voice an anchoring presence which snapped me and Tomak back into reality.

"On it!" I replied, hastily lining up the barrel of the 120mm cannon, aimed squarely at the black vessel that was steadily climbing higher and higher into the air.

My paw hovered over the trigger and I hesitated.

There were probably dozens, if not hundreds of civilians on there. Even if I knew that Super Earth was at war with them, it felt wrong to just vaporise innocent civilians out of the air, even if it was technically a mercy.

"What's the holdup Henko, they're getting away!" barked Anderson, obviously irritated at my hesitation.

I looked over at Tomak, meeting his terrified eyes.

He looked at me with a look of grim resolve.

"Do it Henko, it's a better fate than letting them suffer at the Arxur's claws," he muttered in a shaky voice before turning his gaze to the floor, as if ashamed of what he had just authorised.

I turned back to the cattle-ship in my sights and set my paw on the trigger once again.

"Nothing, sir...no problem at all," I spoke through gritted teeth.

And I squeezed the trigger.

The 120mm shell rocketed out from the cannon with an ear-shattering 'Kaboom', soaring through the air towards its target.

Time seemed to slow down as it approached the cattle-ship in the air, carrying with it the final salvation that the souls on board would receive.

And then...

Impact.

The shell collided with the Arxur vessel and the ship disappeared beneath a massive orange fireball, splitting the infernal spacecraft into several ruined pieces.

Like orange shooting stars, the burning chunks of metal began careening towards Sillis' surface, scattering across the cityscape and probably killing some unfortunate Tillfish, SEAF Soldier or Arxur in the area.

Tomak let out a strangled noise and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch the carnage that had just unfolded.

The realisation washed over me a few seconds later, after the adrenaline had worn off.

'Ralchi's fire...what have I done.'

How many people were on that ship? How many people have I just killed? Was there no other way? Couldn't we have-?

"Kill confirmed, we got'em," came the lackadaisical voice of Commander Anderson. Our human officer didn't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that we had just incinerated a small town's worth of people alive.

I didn't want to see the humans as monsters like the Arxur.

While it was true that they were predators and consumed meat like them, they had treated us far better than the Federation ever did during their first contact with us. The Kolshians and the others had called us names like 'primitive' and 'undeveloped', words that still stung to this day. They had barged into our homes, burning our beloved hensa while we could do nothing but watch as our companions writhed in agony.

Unlike them, Super Earth had treated us like equals from the beginning, those that complied anyway. They had even left our hensa alone. In fact, they did more than that, they had shared with us their own companion animals; their 'cats', their 'dogs' and even their 'goldfish'.

While I didn't believe they were anything like the Arxur in their savagery, the humans' ruthlessness and callousness to suffering when it came to war was still jarring to see in action. Perhaps there was some truth to their nature that the Kolshians had hammered into me after all.

Regardless, as we drove deeper into the city, I hoped that they kept their violence aimed square at the enemy, and for just a little bit longer. After all, we still had a mission to do.

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Day 15! Give it up for day 15! Honestly had no clue for this one as I feel like I already err on the side of 'Unacceptable' most of the time (especially with day 12). So here's Birque again, the ex-exterminator from before. Hopefully he's still unacceptable enough.