Bang your head quiet riot lyrics
Amazon customer support blatantly lied to me. Twice.
2023.06.09 09:08 nottoocreative999 Amazon customer support blatantly lied to me. Twice.
So a few weeks ago I purchased a pair of ski goggles - Smith I/O MAG (from Australia). I paid $280 aud for them which seemed like a great deal; I attributed it to them being an older model in a non-desirable colour. The item was listed as new and directly sold by Amazon (not third party). Earlier this week I received the package and was surprised above all - every part about the order was wrong. Firstly, I received a wrong pair (Smith I/O instead of Smith I/O MAG). Secondly, they were clearly in a used condition (arrived in a plastic bag with smudged lenses). Finally, the lenses didn’t even match the wrong box that was delivered - they were both identical (it is supposed to have an Everyday lens and a ‘darker weather’ lens).
Talking to the support was like banging your head against the wall. In the past, any issues I had with amazon were resolved within minutes. This time, things were completely different. I explained to the support that I would like to receive a replacement instead of the refund, which they told me wasn’t possible because the item ships from the US (not sure what’s that got to do with anything, the original item shipped from the US too). After a while I gave up on chat and email (email was in particular horrible, people could not communicate without using the same 3 standard responses. No matter what you say).
So then I decided to contact amazon via phone. To my surprise, their support was much better. Or so I initially thought. The first person I spiked to suggested that I purchase a different listing on amazon (which was about $170 more expensive) and that amazon will refund me the difference in price. I said okay, that sounds fair enough (don’t forget, I’m still getting the exact same item I originally ordered, so I’m not fishing for an upgrade). She said I will receive an email confirming what was discussed. So I receive an email about 2 hours after with the same copy-paste response about returning the item for a refund with no mention of getting the replacement. After pointless arguments from my side, I called amazon again the next day. This time, I specifically requested that the agent sends me an email to put it in writing. He told me that he will process the additional refund request so I can get the original item. Once again, I receive the exact same email.
At this point, I have invested ~5 hours of my time into this, so I am quite frustrated. After searching online, I decided to email [email protected] to reach the executive support. To my surprise, this actually worked and I received a call the next day (which I unfortunately missed). Organised a call for today and spoke to someone from Sydney. So he told me that they cannot get me the item that I originally ordered, nor will they honour the price difference refund promise because ‘they’re don’t price match’. I recommended that he listens to the recording of the phone calls I had with amazon to see that their customer support blatantly lied, to which he said he will ‘investigate’ (highly doubt).
Point of the story? Don’t trust a thing that support tell you over the phone unless they put it in writing. In fact, I wouldn’t trust them at all. One of the agents over the chat said that they will pay the price difference in gift cards and I will just need to follow up after I pay and receive the order. Looking back, I’m extremely glad I didn’t do it, as I know that that promise wouldn’t be upheld.
I considering contacting Ombudsman to sort this out because lying to your customers should not be tolerated.
submitted by nottoocreative999 to amazonprime [link] [comments]
Talking to the support was like banging your head against the wall. In the past, any issues I had with amazon were resolved within minutes. This time, things were completely different. I explained to the support that I would like to receive a replacement instead of the refund, which they told me wasn’t possible because the item ships from the US (not sure what’s that got to do with anything, the original item shipped from the US too). After a while I gave up on chat and email (email was in particular horrible, people could not communicate without using the same 3 standard responses. No matter what you say).
So then I decided to contact amazon via phone. To my surprise, their support was much better. Or so I initially thought. The first person I spiked to suggested that I purchase a different listing on amazon (which was about $170 more expensive) and that amazon will refund me the difference in price. I said okay, that sounds fair enough (don’t forget, I’m still getting the exact same item I originally ordered, so I’m not fishing for an upgrade). She said I will receive an email confirming what was discussed. So I receive an email about 2 hours after with the same copy-paste response about returning the item for a refund with no mention of getting the replacement. After pointless arguments from my side, I called amazon again the next day. This time, I specifically requested that the agent sends me an email to put it in writing. He told me that he will process the additional refund request so I can get the original item. Once again, I receive the exact same email.
At this point, I have invested ~5 hours of my time into this, so I am quite frustrated. After searching online, I decided to email [email protected] to reach the executive support. To my surprise, this actually worked and I received a call the next day (which I unfortunately missed). Organised a call for today and spoke to someone from Sydney. So he told me that they cannot get me the item that I originally ordered, nor will they honour the price difference refund promise because ‘they’re don’t price match’. I recommended that he listens to the recording of the phone calls I had with amazon to see that their customer support blatantly lied, to which he said he will ‘investigate’ (highly doubt).
Point of the story? Don’t trust a thing that support tell you over the phone unless they put it in writing. In fact, I wouldn’t trust them at all. One of the agents over the chat said that they will pay the price difference in gift cards and I will just need to follow up after I pay and receive the order. Looking back, I’m extremely glad I didn’t do it, as I know that that promise wouldn’t be upheld.
I considering contacting Ombudsman to sort this out because lying to your customers should not be tolerated.
2023.06.09 09:02 Numerous-Writer-1354 I tried to cut myself today
I tried to cut myself today, and was very close to cutting deep enough for blood. I kept pressing the tip of my blade into my wrist and sliding it back and forth, but I couldn't push myself to push it any deeper than it already was. As it is now, it left some red marks, but I don't really think they're that noticeable. If things continue, I wonder if I'll keep trying.
I'm doing something that's I've been told is a bad thing my whole life, but why is it bad? Is it bad because it hurts? Those same people will say that the death penalty is good for those who've committed serious crimes, how is this any different?
I'm a terrible human being who doesn't see the value of human life. Isn't that the same as a villain? I'm a villain right? I'm been trying to see myself as a victim of something, that maybe there was a chance that I wasn't the bad guy, but I am. I'm nothing but a bratty teenager who whines about how difficult their life is, even though my responsibilities are the easiest things in the world. Driving isn't that hard, getting a better job isn't that hard, yet I won't do it. My mom thinks I don't want to listen to her, that she thinks I'm not aware of how messed up I am. I'm well aware of the sorry good for nothing person that I am, she should honestly just get rid of me.
I was told by her boyfriend:
"What are you waiting for?"
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Get off your ass and go do it!
"This is a man to man conversation, I'm not afraid to get in your face."
"There's a lot of people in this world that will do the same thing I'm doing, are you going to give them the same blank expression you're giving me right now?"
"Your mom told you to go take out the trash 4 or 5 times, are you just going to sleep in your room all day, or are you going to respect her for all the work she's done for you?"
"You would be nothing without her."
"When you're out in the world and your boss tells you to do something, are you just going to wait to do your responsibilities until you feel like it?"
"When we're finished here, are you just going to close your room and sit there angry at me? You can be angry at me all you want."
I shouldn't cry. I can't cry. I can't trust people with my feelings, because this is something that they will turn into. When it comes to who is more right, my mom is the obvious answer. She's right and I should feel bad for it, I need to suffer for being like this. They both know about my depression and my depersonalization disorder, and they know that its just the result of my incompetence.
I was depressed because my mom barged in and badgered me about my responsibilities. Everytime she talks about them, it gives me anxiety, especially from her. She tells me about how I don't make enough, and how I need to get a license to drive, and that I need to get a better job to "help myself" and all that. She knows about my mental illnesses, but just tells me to "get over it". She gave me demands, but when she left I could do nothing but cry.
To be honest, I'm scared.
I'm scared of big changes in my life. I'm scared of going back to how I was in school. Waiting for the days to go by and having each monotonous day start to blend in together. Living a life that didn't feel like a life, and a life that would continue on until I die. Feeling like a burden to anyone who's unlucky enough to have in their path, and feeling like an idiot for not having my life together while everyone around me is set on what they aspire to do. Being a giant faker who's trying to appear like everything is okay, even though every single waking moment I wish for someone to quietly take my life. I don't want to go back to all of that.
On the road, I could feel everyone staring at me, as if to say "this person doesn't know what they're doing, they don't belong here". I can feel everyone shaking their heads in my direction while they look at me in disgust.
"I'm not a burden right? I can't be a burden to everyone, there's no way I am!" When has someone been happy to be in your presence? When has someone not told you how poor of a job you're doing?
You are not a victim. You are a witch.
It doesn't matter how bad your past was or what your mom did to you and your brother when you were younger. She isn't that way now.
Forgive her.
It doesn't matter what she called you or what she broke. It doesn't matter what she said about your brother or if she put him in a police car for "disrespect". It doesn't matter that she doesn't regret what she did.
She's a single mother that worked multiple jobs and provided you with everything.
So forget it all, and just forgive her.
submitted by Numerous-Writer-1354 to depression [link] [comments]
I'm doing something that's I've been told is a bad thing my whole life, but why is it bad? Is it bad because it hurts? Those same people will say that the death penalty is good for those who've committed serious crimes, how is this any different?
I'm a terrible human being who doesn't see the value of human life. Isn't that the same as a villain? I'm a villain right? I'm been trying to see myself as a victim of something, that maybe there was a chance that I wasn't the bad guy, but I am. I'm nothing but a bratty teenager who whines about how difficult their life is, even though my responsibilities are the easiest things in the world. Driving isn't that hard, getting a better job isn't that hard, yet I won't do it. My mom thinks I don't want to listen to her, that she thinks I'm not aware of how messed up I am. I'm well aware of the sorry good for nothing person that I am, she should honestly just get rid of me.
I was told by her boyfriend:
"What are you waiting for?"
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Get off your ass and go do it!
"This is a man to man conversation, I'm not afraid to get in your face."
"There's a lot of people in this world that will do the same thing I'm doing, are you going to give them the same blank expression you're giving me right now?"
"Your mom told you to go take out the trash 4 or 5 times, are you just going to sleep in your room all day, or are you going to respect her for all the work she's done for you?"
"You would be nothing without her."
"When you're out in the world and your boss tells you to do something, are you just going to wait to do your responsibilities until you feel like it?"
"When we're finished here, are you just going to close your room and sit there angry at me? You can be angry at me all you want."
I shouldn't cry. I can't cry. I can't trust people with my feelings, because this is something that they will turn into. When it comes to who is more right, my mom is the obvious answer. She's right and I should feel bad for it, I need to suffer for being like this. They both know about my depression and my depersonalization disorder, and they know that its just the result of my incompetence.
I was depressed because my mom barged in and badgered me about my responsibilities. Everytime she talks about them, it gives me anxiety, especially from her. She tells me about how I don't make enough, and how I need to get a license to drive, and that I need to get a better job to "help myself" and all that. She knows about my mental illnesses, but just tells me to "get over it". She gave me demands, but when she left I could do nothing but cry.
To be honest, I'm scared.
I'm scared of big changes in my life. I'm scared of going back to how I was in school. Waiting for the days to go by and having each monotonous day start to blend in together. Living a life that didn't feel like a life, and a life that would continue on until I die. Feeling like a burden to anyone who's unlucky enough to have in their path, and feeling like an idiot for not having my life together while everyone around me is set on what they aspire to do. Being a giant faker who's trying to appear like everything is okay, even though every single waking moment I wish for someone to quietly take my life. I don't want to go back to all of that.
On the road, I could feel everyone staring at me, as if to say "this person doesn't know what they're doing, they don't belong here". I can feel everyone shaking their heads in my direction while they look at me in disgust.
"I'm not a burden right? I can't be a burden to everyone, there's no way I am!" When has someone been happy to be in your presence? When has someone not told you how poor of a job you're doing?
You are not a victim. You are a witch.
It doesn't matter how bad your past was or what your mom did to you and your brother when you were younger. She isn't that way now.
Forgive her.
It doesn't matter what she called you or what she broke. It doesn't matter what she said about your brother or if she put him in a police car for "disrespect". It doesn't matter that she doesn't regret what she did.
She's a single mother that worked multiple jobs and provided you with everything.
So forget it all, and just forgive her.
2023.06.09 08:36 Sunaofe-Furniture- Sunaofe standing desk has everything you need
2023.06.09 08:08 DustinRiddleyMatter Help with character introduction.
This is a rough draft of the beginning of my book. I'm trying to introduce my main character and their first major conflict but I'm worried they are coming across whiny and unlikable. I would love some feedback. I'm not really worried about grammar or punctuation since I'll probably be making massive changes. Thank you for your time
Fall of Cestrum
One
Stella lay stretched out in the grassy area that ran along one the many paths branching out from the Well Flower in the center of town. Rolling over she leaned closer to a flower sprouting out from among the blades of grass. She tilted her head until her nose touched the soft, hair-like bristles covering the stem. She could count the colored spots on each downy petals and number the leaves that clustered around the stem, dusky, satiny and variegated. She lifted a finger and touched it to the petal. She smiled and giggled and for one bright and light moment, she felt connected to the life under her fingertips.
A warm breeze swept along the path causing the plant life around here to sway hypnotically. The flower swayed and bent, its leaves fluttering. Stella pushed her hair away from her face and the flower stilled. Stella rolled onto her back staring up into the sky and for this brief perfect moment she felt connected to the world around her without any gifts or magic. All too soon the spell was broken, her thought turned morose. These moments of tranquility never really last, always leaving her feeling unsatisfied. They are never enough to fill the void. With these thoughts come a more quiet and distant one, That she would never be enough. She wondered what it would be like to be able to speak with the very grass beneath her feet.
When she imagined it she supposed she would feel a bond of some sort. The feel of a fragile presence brushing her mind. A sense of rightness with the world. Or maybe it wouldn’t be something grand, maybe something as simple or as everyday as blinking or taking in a breath. Whatever it was, she felt nothing except the moist early morn dew on her skin. She heard nothing but the soft lap of water.
Her hands fisted her skirt as she stood, worrying the corner of her mouth with her teeth. She glanced across the canal to the shimmering fields basking under the soft warmth of an early morning sun. The plants continued to sway in the wind as if in anticipation of someone’s arrival. But not for her. A wave of melancholy swamped her and the back of her eyes prickled.
Stella drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly as her eyes clouded. Not here, not now.
She heard the fall of soft footsteps and hastily tried to pull herself together before anyone could spot her. As a child, she had made no secret of her desire to be like them. For a while, they had entertained her wishes and gently tried to break the news to her. But now it was different, now it was just sad. Stella stepped back into the soft embrace of a nearby tree and hoped to disappear from view. If they saw her, they made no mention of it. Stella fiddled with her fingers and counted until she felt she could step out again.
Those that worked the fields were approaching the plants, their faces bright with anticipation. The previously stilled plants twisted, unfurling their petals in welcome. Stella felt a strange mixture of reverence and jealousy. desperately she wished she could join them. She tried to squash these feelings and ignore the hollow ache of her heart. She could never join them. Not because she was defective. She just wasn’t one of them. The earlier she accepted that, the better.
Sighing and trying to shrug off the veil of melancholy that had settled on her, Stella stepped into view, squinting across the canal to the workers in the field. Again, she felt that impetuous urge to join them , to chat with them as they made the plants grow towards the sun . She turned away telling herself, "that’s just the way things are, and you are going to have to accept it."
Only she didn’t want to.
A few passersby glanced over their shoulders as she stepped into the light, drawn by the soft scud of her feet against the beaten earth. Stella forced a smile to sprout on her face and raised a clenched fist. She opened the fingers slowly, reminiscent of a flower unfurling its bud. It was a gesture of greeting and welcome. They paused in their work to return it.
Stella turned away from them and walked down from where she came. The village had woken and was now bustling with activities, even more now than ever. It was close to the Harvest festival after all. She saw various water crafts all formed from different plant life bobbing down the canal, garlands of dusk-roses had been strung up on trees and door fronts. Small children ran around her, squealing as they played. A handful of girls her age twittered past, carrying baskets just like hers. They were going to the fountain, Stella was sure by evening the center of the village would be swathed in flowers of all shapes, sizes, smells and colors. They greeted her with their clenched fists opening to which Stella responded, momentarily sharing in their warm smiles before returning to her despondent thoughts.
It was hard to sink into her melancholy while trudging on the paths. The Ortus were a warm people and the approach of Harvest had made their good-natured bloom into a bonfire of radiating joy, thus no matter how much she tried not to, she couldn’t help but be caught in their joy. From now till after the festival, the adults would do nothing to curb the enthusiasm of their young that swarmed onto the paths in search of merrymaking, while they themselves were caught up with their tasks with good-natured fun.
As Stella looked farther up the path to she saw the barrel shape of the village chief thundering down to the path.
He slowed upon seeing her and the frown furrowing his busy brows lightened. Stella opened her clenched fist in greeting to him. She wondered what business he had him in such a hurry.
With her heart thundering in her ears, Stella stepped up to his path and noted she was almost as tall as he was. Most of her life, she had spent it looking up to him, in awe of how solid his presence seemed. He was gruff but had never been unkind with her even when his words told hurtful truths.
‘Stella -?’
‘I want to join the workers in the field,’ she blurted out, cutting him off.
‘Weed’s hold, Stella. We have spoken about it.’ There was a smattering of exasperation in his voice.
Stella nodded. ‘I know. But I think I have proven myself.’
The chief was shaking his head, his eyes soft but she didn’t want to see it. It was often a prelude to rejection. She couldn’t remember how much she had done this over the years, tried to plead her case but got turned away instead. Not this time. Like most people in the village, she had a stubborn streak. She had had years to cultivate it and this time she didn’t want to be turned away.
‘I am a hard worker. You know how diligent I am. I am not going to waste the gift on trying to impress everyone with showy flowers. I just want -’ to belong. Stella heaved in a breath - ‘I just want to do enough like everyone is.’ Why was that so difficult to grant her what she wanted?
He sighed. ‘You are not Ortus.’
Stella ignored the stab of hurt. A flash of anger jolted through her. It sat in the corner of her chest, beating in tandem with her heart. Stella straightened, lifting her chin. ‘I have lived here my whole life. There isn't a thing that happens in this village that I'm not involved in.’ There was a barest hint of wobble in her voice. She squashed it "There is no one other than you more dedicated to this village than me."
‘It will be heresy,’ the chief said in a hard tone.
The last of what she was going to say trailed off into the emptiness. She stared at the chief, the final word chasing itself in a circle in her head. The harshness of her breath over her jackhammering heart was the only thing she could hear. The world seemed to gain a misty film. She blinked.
‘Heresy?’
The chief looked directly at her. ‘Yes. By the sweet wind, Stella. You are Luxen not Ortus. I cannot give you the gift. No matter what!’
Don’t cry. Stella blinked. And blinked again. ‘You were never going to - I was never - you never saw me as -’ she stopped and dragged in a lungful of air. Despite the heat, she felt cold. Stella gathered herself together and cleared her throat. ‘I understand. Thank you for your kindness, Chief.’
A myriad of emotions swept over the chief’s face before settling on its usual gruff sternness. Still, he took a step forward as though reaching for her. Stella stepped back. She didn’t need him to balm her wounds right after ripping it open. She stared at his shoulder as she spoke : ‘I have to see the fieldworkers lunch.’ She walked round him, her steps brisk
Tears pricked urgently at the back of her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.
submitted by DustinRiddleyMatter to fantasywriters [link] [comments]
Fall of Cestrum
One
Stella lay stretched out in the grassy area that ran along one the many paths branching out from the Well Flower in the center of town. Rolling over she leaned closer to a flower sprouting out from among the blades of grass. She tilted her head until her nose touched the soft, hair-like bristles covering the stem. She could count the colored spots on each downy petals and number the leaves that clustered around the stem, dusky, satiny and variegated. She lifted a finger and touched it to the petal. She smiled and giggled and for one bright and light moment, she felt connected to the life under her fingertips.
A warm breeze swept along the path causing the plant life around here to sway hypnotically. The flower swayed and bent, its leaves fluttering. Stella pushed her hair away from her face and the flower stilled. Stella rolled onto her back staring up into the sky and for this brief perfect moment she felt connected to the world around her without any gifts or magic. All too soon the spell was broken, her thought turned morose. These moments of tranquility never really last, always leaving her feeling unsatisfied. They are never enough to fill the void. With these thoughts come a more quiet and distant one, That she would never be enough. She wondered what it would be like to be able to speak with the very grass beneath her feet.
When she imagined it she supposed she would feel a bond of some sort. The feel of a fragile presence brushing her mind. A sense of rightness with the world. Or maybe it wouldn’t be something grand, maybe something as simple or as everyday as blinking or taking in a breath. Whatever it was, she felt nothing except the moist early morn dew on her skin. She heard nothing but the soft lap of water.
Her hands fisted her skirt as she stood, worrying the corner of her mouth with her teeth. She glanced across the canal to the shimmering fields basking under the soft warmth of an early morning sun. The plants continued to sway in the wind as if in anticipation of someone’s arrival. But not for her. A wave of melancholy swamped her and the back of her eyes prickled.
Stella drew in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly as her eyes clouded. Not here, not now.
She heard the fall of soft footsteps and hastily tried to pull herself together before anyone could spot her. As a child, she had made no secret of her desire to be like them. For a while, they had entertained her wishes and gently tried to break the news to her. But now it was different, now it was just sad. Stella stepped back into the soft embrace of a nearby tree and hoped to disappear from view. If they saw her, they made no mention of it. Stella fiddled with her fingers and counted until she felt she could step out again.
Those that worked the fields were approaching the plants, their faces bright with anticipation. The previously stilled plants twisted, unfurling their petals in welcome. Stella felt a strange mixture of reverence and jealousy. desperately she wished she could join them. She tried to squash these feelings and ignore the hollow ache of her heart. She could never join them. Not because she was defective. She just wasn’t one of them. The earlier she accepted that, the better.
Sighing and trying to shrug off the veil of melancholy that had settled on her, Stella stepped into view, squinting across the canal to the workers in the field. Again, she felt that impetuous urge to join them , to chat with them as they made the plants grow towards the sun . She turned away telling herself, "that’s just the way things are, and you are going to have to accept it."
Only she didn’t want to.
A few passersby glanced over their shoulders as she stepped into the light, drawn by the soft scud of her feet against the beaten earth. Stella forced a smile to sprout on her face and raised a clenched fist. She opened the fingers slowly, reminiscent of a flower unfurling its bud. It was a gesture of greeting and welcome. They paused in their work to return it.
Stella turned away from them and walked down from where she came. The village had woken and was now bustling with activities, even more now than ever. It was close to the Harvest festival after all. She saw various water crafts all formed from different plant life bobbing down the canal, garlands of dusk-roses had been strung up on trees and door fronts. Small children ran around her, squealing as they played. A handful of girls her age twittered past, carrying baskets just like hers. They were going to the fountain, Stella was sure by evening the center of the village would be swathed in flowers of all shapes, sizes, smells and colors. They greeted her with their clenched fists opening to which Stella responded, momentarily sharing in their warm smiles before returning to her despondent thoughts.
It was hard to sink into her melancholy while trudging on the paths. The Ortus were a warm people and the approach of Harvest had made their good-natured bloom into a bonfire of radiating joy, thus no matter how much she tried not to, she couldn’t help but be caught in their joy. From now till after the festival, the adults would do nothing to curb the enthusiasm of their young that swarmed onto the paths in search of merrymaking, while they themselves were caught up with their tasks with good-natured fun.
As Stella looked farther up the path to she saw the barrel shape of the village chief thundering down to the path.
He slowed upon seeing her and the frown furrowing his busy brows lightened. Stella opened her clenched fist in greeting to him. She wondered what business he had him in such a hurry.
With her heart thundering in her ears, Stella stepped up to his path and noted she was almost as tall as he was. Most of her life, she had spent it looking up to him, in awe of how solid his presence seemed. He was gruff but had never been unkind with her even when his words told hurtful truths.
‘Stella -?’
‘I want to join the workers in the field,’ she blurted out, cutting him off.
‘Weed’s hold, Stella. We have spoken about it.’ There was a smattering of exasperation in his voice.
Stella nodded. ‘I know. But I think I have proven myself.’
The chief was shaking his head, his eyes soft but she didn’t want to see it. It was often a prelude to rejection. She couldn’t remember how much she had done this over the years, tried to plead her case but got turned away instead. Not this time. Like most people in the village, she had a stubborn streak. She had had years to cultivate it and this time she didn’t want to be turned away.
‘I am a hard worker. You know how diligent I am. I am not going to waste the gift on trying to impress everyone with showy flowers. I just want -’ to belong. Stella heaved in a breath - ‘I just want to do enough like everyone is.’ Why was that so difficult to grant her what she wanted?
He sighed. ‘You are not Ortus.’
Stella ignored the stab of hurt. A flash of anger jolted through her. It sat in the corner of her chest, beating in tandem with her heart. Stella straightened, lifting her chin. ‘I have lived here my whole life. There isn't a thing that happens in this village that I'm not involved in.’ There was a barest hint of wobble in her voice. She squashed it "There is no one other than you more dedicated to this village than me."
‘It will be heresy,’ the chief said in a hard tone.
The last of what she was going to say trailed off into the emptiness. She stared at the chief, the final word chasing itself in a circle in her head. The harshness of her breath over her jackhammering heart was the only thing she could hear. The world seemed to gain a misty film. She blinked.
‘Heresy?’
The chief looked directly at her. ‘Yes. By the sweet wind, Stella. You are Luxen not Ortus. I cannot give you the gift. No matter what!’
Don’t cry. Stella blinked. And blinked again. ‘You were never going to - I was never - you never saw me as -’ she stopped and dragged in a lungful of air. Despite the heat, she felt cold. Stella gathered herself together and cleared her throat. ‘I understand. Thank you for your kindness, Chief.’
A myriad of emotions swept over the chief’s face before settling on its usual gruff sternness. Still, he took a step forward as though reaching for her. Stella stepped back. She didn’t need him to balm her wounds right after ripping it open. She stared at his shoulder as she spoke : ‘I have to see the fieldworkers lunch.’ She walked round him, her steps brisk
Tears pricked urgently at the back of her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.
2023.06.09 07:57 Hewholooksskyward Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth - Chapter 24
My Patreon page: http://www.patreon.com/hewholooksskyward
Link to the Wiki page, with additional links to Clan information and background Lore.
First I Previous
Chapter 24: The Final Argument Of Kings
Samara returned a few hours later. Guardian was no longer in control.
“And what do you want?” Rúna demanded.
The Protean ignored her, instead focusing her attention on the ambassador. “We need to talk,” she told Genvass.
“All right,” he agreed. “What do you want to talk about?”
She shook her head. “Not here. And not just us.”
“Oh? And who else will be joining us?”
“Remi,” she explained, “though he doesn’t know it yet.”
Genvass raised an eyebrow. “Then I’m confused.”
“Just come with me,” Samara urged, “please. It’s important.”
“All right,” he agreed, rising to his feet. “And Rúna? Ess Peon?”
“Just you,” she said pointedly. “It’s delicate and needs to be handled carefully. Your protector is kind of a blunt instrument.” She gave the Valkyrie a half-hearted shrug. “No offense.”
“Oh, you have no idea…” Rúna growled, before turning to the ambassador. “I want to go on record and say this is a bad idea,” she stated, “but since you’re going to do it anyway,… just be careful.” She shot a hostile glare in the Protean’s direction.
“I promise,” he smiled, before gesturing towards the hatch. “After you,” he told Samara.
The pair exited the compartment and headed forward, towards a part of the ship he hadn’t yet visited. “You mind telling me what this is all about?” he asked her.
It took her a moment to respond. “I must say, I’m impressed,” she chuckled. “You did something I thought was impossible.”
“What’s that?”
“You actually spooked Guardian,” she grinned, before rolling her eyes and groaning, “... he did so,” she snapped. “I should know. I was sitting right there the whole time.”
Genvass blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She sighed and pointed at her head. “Guardian. He’s in a mood. Sometimes I forget and have our conversations out loud. It can be a little off-putting, I know. I’ll try to keep it internal.”
The ambassador smiled at that. “Finding out he can be moody is actually sort of comforting. It humanizes him… if he were human, I mean.”
“Oh, he runs the gamut of emotions,” Samara laughed. “He once spent a week sulking because I shot down one of his suggestions.” She sighed once again. “You did too,” she fired off to her unseen companion, before shrugging in apology. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he grinned. “Though I’m a little confused. If he experiences emotions, why did you think he couldn’t be frightened?”
“Do you have any idea how long he’s been around?” she asked him. “Or what he’s experienced in all those endless eons? If there’s a situation or event he hasn’t witnessed and dealt with a thousand times over, I’ve yet to hear of it. And it’s not like you can hurt him,” she reminded the ambassador. “The Repository is basically indestructible, for all intents and purposes. Short of dropping it in a black hole, I mean, and frankly, I’m not even sure of that.”
“I see,” he said carefully. In fact, it surprised him as well his theory had left the ancient Avatar troubled. That he’d dragged Samara’s body out the way he had left Genvass convinced he’d gotten to him, but he hadn’t realized to what extent. It was the only leverage he currently had, and it was tenuous as hell, but if he could capitalize on that…
“And we’re here,” she said, pulling up to another hatch and interrupting his thoughts. She pressed the call button beside the entrance, only for it to slide open moments later as they stepped inside.
Captain Hadad was sitting in a chair, holding a drink. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Genvass. “Mind telling me what he’s doing here?” he insisted.
“I invited him,” Samara explained, going to the table and pouring herself a drink as well. “We need to talk.”
“We already did that, remember?” He shook his head. “I don’t see the point in rehashing this.”
“Hear him out,” Samara said, only it wasn’t Samara. Guardian had taken control again, catching them both off guard.
“Why?” Remi demanded once more. “What could he possibly say that hasn’t been said already?”
“I had a chat with Guardian earlier, and it seems my words found fertile soil.” Genvass informed him. “I assume he convinced Samara that we should talk.”
The Protean shivered, twitching her head and shoulders as she grimaced. “We talked about this,” she snarled. “You ask permission before you pop in.” She held up her hand to the other two, not wanting to get into it again.
Genvass and Remi shared a commiserating look before the ambassador spoke up. “You’re being manipulated, Captain,” he told him. “We all are, as near as I can tell. Someone is pulling our strings, dragging us into a war with the rest of the galaxy.”
“Really? Who?”
“My clan leader,” he said unhappily. “Dàifu Tsoumlum Khatsakhox.”
Remi just stared at him. “This is a joke, right?”
“Believe me, I wish it were,” he sighed. “But when I expressed my misgivings to Samara, she confirmed them.”
He turned to the Protean. “This is true?”
“I’m afraid so,” she agreed. “It’s not conclusive, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty damn convincing.”
“Circumstantial evidence,” he repeated. “Meaning it could just be a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” Genvass assured him. “I’m certain of it.”
“Me too,” Samara chimed in. “We got played, Remi. Simple as that.”
The Corsair regarded them both over his glass. “All right, I’ll bite. Why would the head of the Dharmist clan want to start a war? What does she get out of it?”
“As far as I can tell? Revenge,” Genvass explained. “The last conversation we had, she blamed the other races for everything that’s happened to us Terrans since Earth’s destruction.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Remi shrugged.
“But what she’s doing is,” he insisted. “People are going to die. People have already died,” Genvass contended. “But maybe it’s not too late to stop it.”
“Stop it?” The pirate captain leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression plastered on his face. “Why on Earth would we possibly do that?”
“Because dragging the galaxy into war is a bad idea?” Genvass said, incredulous.
Their eyes met. ”Only if we lose,” Remi said evenly, “and we can’t lose.”
“Even if we win, it’s still a bad idea,” the ambassador fired back. “The cost in lives alone will be astronomical, both Terran and alien.”
“We haven’t lost a single human,” Remi said defiantly.
“Yet,” Genvass snapped, as his hackles raised. “Don’t count on it lasting forever.”
Remi shook his head and turned his attention back to Samara. “Why are we having this conversation? I’m not hearing anything new or compelling, and being honest, even if you’re right and the Dàifu tricked us into attacking our enemies, so what? What difference does it make? It’s not like either of us needed convincing, and our reasons for grabbing Peacemaker and going hunting haven’t changed, have they?”
“No, they haven’t,” Samara admitted. “But the situation is more complicated than we realized, and we think it might be a good idea to take a moment and find out what’s really going on.”
“Seriously? You, of all people?” Remi grimaced in disgust. “I can’t believe you’ve fallen for his bullshit. He’s grasping at straws, can’t you see that? He’s got nothing. No evidence, no support, and no mission. Finally, after two hundred fucking years, we’re the ones calling the shots, and I say it’s time to clean house. We eliminate the threats once and for all.” He leaned forward, glaring at her. “Or have you suddenly gotten cold feet?”
Her eyes narrowed in response. “You know me better than that. Show me a problem and I’ll end it, permanently.” Her nostrils flared as she scowled back at him. “But being the Troika’s unwilling puppet left me with a strong dislike of being manipulated. I refuse to dance to anyone else’s tune ever again, even if I agree with their reasons. If the Dàifu had asked me directly to help destroy our enemies, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. That she didn’t makes me wonder what her real motivations are, and if anyone is pulling her strings.”
That gave him pause. “How would that even be possible?” he said after a moment. “Who could get to her on New Terra?”
“I don’t know,” Samara shrugged. “Maybe the Tu’udh’hizh’ak brainwashed her before she ever set foot on New Terra. Or the Eleexx might have gotten to her like they did me. Could be someone she cares about is being threatened. Or maybe she’s in it for the oldest reason of all.”
“Money?” Remi guessed.
“Power,” she corrected him. “Who the hell knows?”
The Corsair frowned, considering that, and then shook his head. “It can’t be the Troika,” he decided. “It would be stupid to have us come after them like this. Hell, it’d be downright suicidal.”
Samara started to respond, and then paused before trying again, but this time she spoke with Guardian’s voice. “It is not as unlikely as you may think,” the ancient Avatar stated. “We must assume they did not take their defeat at our hands with equanimity. They must surely hunger to regain what they have lost, and it is possible this ploy is how they intend to achieve that goal.”
“Okay, genius,” Remi sneered, “explain to me how us destroying them helps the Troika get back on top. Because frankly, I can’t see it.”
“Simply put, by painting Terrans as the most dangerous threat the galaxy now faces,” he explained. “The Alliance laid out the groundwork themselves, as did the Oivu. As long as New Terra maintains a firm monopoly on Precursor technology, they will always fear you. And just as they did two centuries ago against the Yīqún, they will tell the other races that only by standing together do they have any hope of defeating you.” Samara/Guardian leaned back in their chair. “I assure you, when framed in that manner, the other races will take very little convincing.”
“Fine,” Remi snorted, “let them come. We’ll fight them all if we have to.”
“They have no need to actually defeat you,” Guardian cautioned, “they simply have to contain you. As long as they keep you Terrans penned within the Threshold system, the rest of the galaxy will be theirs for the taking. They will use the ongoing threat of your presence to strike fear into the hearts of the other races, and in the fullness of time, will be able to resume their position of power once more.”
“I think you’re forgetting something,” Remi chuckled, before waving his hand about him. “Peacemaker. There’s no way they can destroy this ship.”
“Are you certain of that?” Genvass interjected. “Granted, it’s the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and it’s powerful. No argument. But there are a lot of ships out there, between the Alliance and the Troika, and if they threw them all at you? Swarmed you in a single massive strike?” He shook his head. “Even if they just threw vessels at you to soak up fire until you shot yourself dry, it’s possible they could do it. And don’t forget, the Troika has been studying Precursor technology for millennia. Most of it is still far beyond them, but they’ve learned a few tricks. It’s how they defeated the Yīqún the first time, after all. They even shut down Guardian once, as Samara can attest,” he finished, inclining his head in her direction.
“It’s true,” she agreed, this time with her own voice, “though it would be more accurate to say they disrupted communications between us. Guardian was still online. We just couldn’t talk to each other.”
“And without you as an active host, they had completely cut him off,” Genvass agreed. “They crippled him and left him helpless. It’s possible, even likely, that they have other methods at their disposal as well, other means by which they could damage or even destroy this ship.”
“And with Peacemaker off the table,” Samara pointed out, “we don’t have any other ships capable of facing the Troika. We’ll be stuck on New Terra, unable to show our faces, while they’ll have control over everything else.”
“Then we’ll build new ships!” Remi snapped, his glare now dark and dangerous. “Whole new fleets of ships, constructed with Precursor technology! Let’s see them try to stop us then.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Samara sighed. “You know as well as I do it will be years before we’re capable of that. Decades even, though some projections I’ve seen suggest it could be centuries before we understand enough of their technology to build even crude fighting ships. A lot could happen in a few hundred years, and you can bet the Troika won’t be sitting idle during that time.”
The Corsair looked away, clearly not happy with the conversation’s direction. Finally, he turned back to face them. “Then what do you suggest?” he asked, his expression sour, as if being forced to swallow a particularly bitter pill.
Samara looked to Genvass, who nodded his encouragement. “We suspend any further attacks until we sort this out,” she told him. “We find out what’s going on, what the Dàifu’s plans are, learn if the Troika are involved, while hopefully avoiding pissing off the Alliance any more than we already have.”
It took a long time for him to respond, time spent deliberating on the arguments he’d heard. When he finally decided it was plain he was less than thrilled about his choice.
“Fine,” he growled, “we’ll do it your way.”
“Thank you,” Genvass said quietly.
“I’m not doing it for you,” he snarled, before glancing back at Samara. “But I want something in return. When we’re done playing detective and figure out what the hell’s going on, assuming circumstances haven’t been radically altered in the process, we pick right back up where we left off, and we finish this.” He crossed his arms, glaring defiantly.
“You have my word,” Samara agreed. “If it turns out all this was for nothing, I’ll pilot the ship and fire on the Troika homeworlds myself.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Remi vowed, before turning his attention to Genvass. “As for you,” he said coldly, “don’t start thinking this is some sort of victory. It’s a pause, nothing more, while we get our bearings. That’s all.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” the ambassador answered. “If it helps ease tensions between the factions, then as far as I’m concerned, it is a victory. Even if it’s only temporary.”
Remi snorted and ignored him. “So, what’s our first move? Where do we begin digging?” he asked Samara.
“If we want to find answers, there’s only one place to start,” she began.
“... New Terra,” Genvass piped up, answering for her.
First I Previous
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Link to the Wiki page, with additional links to Clan information and background Lore.
First I Previous
Samara returned a few hours later. Guardian was no longer in control.
“And what do you want?” Rúna demanded.
The Protean ignored her, instead focusing her attention on the ambassador. “We need to talk,” she told Genvass.
“All right,” he agreed. “What do you want to talk about?”
She shook her head. “Not here. And not just us.”
“Oh? And who else will be joining us?”
“Remi,” she explained, “though he doesn’t know it yet.”
Genvass raised an eyebrow. “Then I’m confused.”
“Just come with me,” Samara urged, “please. It’s important.”
“All right,” he agreed, rising to his feet. “And Rúna? Ess Peon?”
“Just you,” she said pointedly. “It’s delicate and needs to be handled carefully. Your protector is kind of a blunt instrument.” She gave the Valkyrie a half-hearted shrug. “No offense.”
“Oh, you have no idea…” Rúna growled, before turning to the ambassador. “I want to go on record and say this is a bad idea,” she stated, “but since you’re going to do it anyway,… just be careful.” She shot a hostile glare in the Protean’s direction.
“I promise,” he smiled, before gesturing towards the hatch. “After you,” he told Samara.
The pair exited the compartment and headed forward, towards a part of the ship he hadn’t yet visited. “You mind telling me what this is all about?” he asked her.
It took her a moment to respond. “I must say, I’m impressed,” she chuckled. “You did something I thought was impossible.”
“What’s that?”
“You actually spooked Guardian,” she grinned, before rolling her eyes and groaning, “... he did so,” she snapped. “I should know. I was sitting right there the whole time.”
Genvass blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
She sighed and pointed at her head. “Guardian. He’s in a mood. Sometimes I forget and have our conversations out loud. It can be a little off-putting, I know. I’ll try to keep it internal.”
The ambassador smiled at that. “Finding out he can be moody is actually sort of comforting. It humanizes him… if he were human, I mean.”
“Oh, he runs the gamut of emotions,” Samara laughed. “He once spent a week sulking because I shot down one of his suggestions.” She sighed once again. “You did too,” she fired off to her unseen companion, before shrugging in apology. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” he grinned. “Though I’m a little confused. If he experiences emotions, why did you think he couldn’t be frightened?”
“Do you have any idea how long he’s been around?” she asked him. “Or what he’s experienced in all those endless eons? If there’s a situation or event he hasn’t witnessed and dealt with a thousand times over, I’ve yet to hear of it. And it’s not like you can hurt him,” she reminded the ambassador. “The Repository is basically indestructible, for all intents and purposes. Short of dropping it in a black hole, I mean, and frankly, I’m not even sure of that.”
“I see,” he said carefully. In fact, it surprised him as well his theory had left the ancient Avatar troubled. That he’d dragged Samara’s body out the way he had left Genvass convinced he’d gotten to him, but he hadn’t realized to what extent. It was the only leverage he currently had, and it was tenuous as hell, but if he could capitalize on that…
“And we’re here,” she said, pulling up to another hatch and interrupting his thoughts. She pressed the call button beside the entrance, only for it to slide open moments later as they stepped inside.
Captain Hadad was sitting in a chair, holding a drink. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Genvass. “Mind telling me what he’s doing here?” he insisted.
“I invited him,” Samara explained, going to the table and pouring herself a drink as well. “We need to talk.”
“We already did that, remember?” He shook his head. “I don’t see the point in rehashing this.”
“Hear him out,” Samara said, only it wasn’t Samara. Guardian had taken control again, catching them both off guard.
“Why?” Remi demanded once more. “What could he possibly say that hasn’t been said already?”
“I had a chat with Guardian earlier, and it seems my words found fertile soil.” Genvass informed him. “I assume he convinced Samara that we should talk.”
The Protean shivered, twitching her head and shoulders as she grimaced. “We talked about this,” she snarled. “You ask permission before you pop in.” She held up her hand to the other two, not wanting to get into it again.
Genvass and Remi shared a commiserating look before the ambassador spoke up. “You’re being manipulated, Captain,” he told him. “We all are, as near as I can tell. Someone is pulling our strings, dragging us into a war with the rest of the galaxy.”
“Really? Who?”
“My clan leader,” he said unhappily. “Dàifu Tsoumlum Khatsakhox.”
Remi just stared at him. “This is a joke, right?”
“Believe me, I wish it were,” he sighed. “But when I expressed my misgivings to Samara, she confirmed them.”
He turned to the Protean. “This is true?”
“I’m afraid so,” she agreed. “It’s not conclusive, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty damn convincing.”
“Circumstantial evidence,” he repeated. “Meaning it could just be a coincidence.”
“It’s not,” Genvass assured him. “I’m certain of it.”
“Me too,” Samara chimed in. “We got played, Remi. Simple as that.”
The Corsair regarded them both over his glass. “All right, I’ll bite. Why would the head of the Dharmist clan want to start a war? What does she get out of it?”
“As far as I can tell? Revenge,” Genvass explained. “The last conversation we had, she blamed the other races for everything that’s happened to us Terrans since Earth’s destruction.”
“Well, she’s not wrong,” Remi shrugged.
“But what she’s doing is,” he insisted. “People are going to die. People have already died,” Genvass contended. “But maybe it’s not too late to stop it.”
“Stop it?” The pirate captain leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression plastered on his face. “Why on Earth would we possibly do that?”
“Because dragging the galaxy into war is a bad idea?” Genvass said, incredulous.
Their eyes met. ”Only if we lose,” Remi said evenly, “and we can’t lose.”
“Even if we win, it’s still a bad idea,” the ambassador fired back. “The cost in lives alone will be astronomical, both Terran and alien.”
“We haven’t lost a single human,” Remi said defiantly.
“Yet,” Genvass snapped, as his hackles raised. “Don’t count on it lasting forever.”
Remi shook his head and turned his attention back to Samara. “Why are we having this conversation? I’m not hearing anything new or compelling, and being honest, even if you’re right and the Dàifu tricked us into attacking our enemies, so what? What difference does it make? It’s not like either of us needed convincing, and our reasons for grabbing Peacemaker and going hunting haven’t changed, have they?”
“No, they haven’t,” Samara admitted. “But the situation is more complicated than we realized, and we think it might be a good idea to take a moment and find out what’s really going on.”
“Seriously? You, of all people?” Remi grimaced in disgust. “I can’t believe you’ve fallen for his bullshit. He’s grasping at straws, can’t you see that? He’s got nothing. No evidence, no support, and no mission. Finally, after two hundred fucking years, we’re the ones calling the shots, and I say it’s time to clean house. We eliminate the threats once and for all.” He leaned forward, glaring at her. “Or have you suddenly gotten cold feet?”
Her eyes narrowed in response. “You know me better than that. Show me a problem and I’ll end it, permanently.” Her nostrils flared as she scowled back at him. “But being the Troika’s unwilling puppet left me with a strong dislike of being manipulated. I refuse to dance to anyone else’s tune ever again, even if I agree with their reasons. If the Dàifu had asked me directly to help destroy our enemies, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. That she didn’t makes me wonder what her real motivations are, and if anyone is pulling her strings.”
That gave him pause. “How would that even be possible?” he said after a moment. “Who could get to her on New Terra?”
“I don’t know,” Samara shrugged. “Maybe the Tu’udh’hizh’ak brainwashed her before she ever set foot on New Terra. Or the Eleexx might have gotten to her like they did me. Could be someone she cares about is being threatened. Or maybe she’s in it for the oldest reason of all.”
“Money?” Remi guessed.
“Power,” she corrected him. “Who the hell knows?”
The Corsair frowned, considering that, and then shook his head. “It can’t be the Troika,” he decided. “It would be stupid to have us come after them like this. Hell, it’d be downright suicidal.”
Samara started to respond, and then paused before trying again, but this time she spoke with Guardian’s voice. “It is not as unlikely as you may think,” the ancient Avatar stated. “We must assume they did not take their defeat at our hands with equanimity. They must surely hunger to regain what they have lost, and it is possible this ploy is how they intend to achieve that goal.”
“Okay, genius,” Remi sneered, “explain to me how us destroying them helps the Troika get back on top. Because frankly, I can’t see it.”
“Simply put, by painting Terrans as the most dangerous threat the galaxy now faces,” he explained. “The Alliance laid out the groundwork themselves, as did the Oivu. As long as New Terra maintains a firm monopoly on Precursor technology, they will always fear you. And just as they did two centuries ago against the Yīqún, they will tell the other races that only by standing together do they have any hope of defeating you.” Samara/Guardian leaned back in their chair. “I assure you, when framed in that manner, the other races will take very little convincing.”
“Fine,” Remi snorted, “let them come. We’ll fight them all if we have to.”
“They have no need to actually defeat you,” Guardian cautioned, “they simply have to contain you. As long as they keep you Terrans penned within the Threshold system, the rest of the galaxy will be theirs for the taking. They will use the ongoing threat of your presence to strike fear into the hearts of the other races, and in the fullness of time, will be able to resume their position of power once more.”
“I think you’re forgetting something,” Remi chuckled, before waving his hand about him. “Peacemaker. There’s no way they can destroy this ship.”
“Are you certain of that?” Genvass interjected. “Granted, it’s the most advanced ship in the galaxy, and it’s powerful. No argument. But there are a lot of ships out there, between the Alliance and the Troika, and if they threw them all at you? Swarmed you in a single massive strike?” He shook his head. “Even if they just threw vessels at you to soak up fire until you shot yourself dry, it’s possible they could do it. And don’t forget, the Troika has been studying Precursor technology for millennia. Most of it is still far beyond them, but they’ve learned a few tricks. It’s how they defeated the Yīqún the first time, after all. They even shut down Guardian once, as Samara can attest,” he finished, inclining his head in her direction.
“It’s true,” she agreed, this time with her own voice, “though it would be more accurate to say they disrupted communications between us. Guardian was still online. We just couldn’t talk to each other.”
“And without you as an active host, they had completely cut him off,” Genvass agreed. “They crippled him and left him helpless. It’s possible, even likely, that they have other methods at their disposal as well, other means by which they could damage or even destroy this ship.”
“And with Peacemaker off the table,” Samara pointed out, “we don’t have any other ships capable of facing the Troika. We’ll be stuck on New Terra, unable to show our faces, while they’ll have control over everything else.”
“Then we’ll build new ships!” Remi snapped, his glare now dark and dangerous. “Whole new fleets of ships, constructed with Precursor technology! Let’s see them try to stop us then.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Samara sighed. “You know as well as I do it will be years before we’re capable of that. Decades even, though some projections I’ve seen suggest it could be centuries before we understand enough of their technology to build even crude fighting ships. A lot could happen in a few hundred years, and you can bet the Troika won’t be sitting idle during that time.”
The Corsair looked away, clearly not happy with the conversation’s direction. Finally, he turned back to face them. “Then what do you suggest?” he asked, his expression sour, as if being forced to swallow a particularly bitter pill.
Samara looked to Genvass, who nodded his encouragement. “We suspend any further attacks until we sort this out,” she told him. “We find out what’s going on, what the Dàifu’s plans are, learn if the Troika are involved, while hopefully avoiding pissing off the Alliance any more than we already have.”
It took a long time for him to respond, time spent deliberating on the arguments he’d heard. When he finally decided it was plain he was less than thrilled about his choice.
“Fine,” he growled, “we’ll do it your way.”
“Thank you,” Genvass said quietly.
“I’m not doing it for you,” he snarled, before glancing back at Samara. “But I want something in return. When we’re done playing detective and figure out what the hell’s going on, assuming circumstances haven’t been radically altered in the process, we pick right back up where we left off, and we finish this.” He crossed his arms, glaring defiantly.
“You have my word,” Samara agreed. “If it turns out all this was for nothing, I’ll pilot the ship and fire on the Troika homeworlds myself.”
“I’m holding you to that,” Remi vowed, before turning his attention to Genvass. “As for you,” he said coldly, “don’t start thinking this is some sort of victory. It’s a pause, nothing more, while we get our bearings. That’s all.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” the ambassador answered. “If it helps ease tensions between the factions, then as far as I’m concerned, it is a victory. Even if it’s only temporary.”
Remi snorted and ignored him. “So, what’s our first move? Where do we begin digging?” he asked Samara.
“If we want to find answers, there’s only one place to start,” she began.
“... New Terra,” Genvass piped up, answering for her.
2023.06.09 07:39 ginger-baby1787 help? i feel undervalued and torn about my anger towards my relationship
hey. I don’t use reddit, so this is new for me. I need some serious advice for my relationship w long-term bf…
i (20f) and my man (24m) are coming up on a year in idk a few months i don’t really keep track. (monthly anniversaries seems inconsequential to me. sidenote, i will be giving more context later in [] those brackets which means optional read !)
lately I’ve been really coming to terms with the reality of who my bf is, who he is to me/i to him etc., and it’s so frustratingly confusing because i am a person who craves deep, authentic, fulfilling love and i have successfully built that with him. however…
as an ex-tomboy, i notice some of my “wearing the pants” traits show themselves when shit hits the fan. I crave to tap into my femininity. to be a good lover. to support him, always, to love him well and to be his rock. I am skilled at it and love doing so. but i feel put on the back burner, and I can’t tell if it’s just me and my own head and my own flaws, or if I’m seeing clearly.
we live in different cities. we have since we met through his brother, whom I’ve known for years and am good friends with. our families know each other and we went to the same high school. we connect on so many things and really truly and deeply love each other. I know i will marry him. we don’t get to see each other very often, and I don’t keep a tally, because I think that’s shallow and stupid, but it just feels like i have been putting in more effort to go and visit him. sometimes he can be arrogant and I secretly am apprehensive of how much he drinks and gets high (i’m a stoner too man but shit I just worry he’s numbing out too much. I don’t say anything tho).
he puts me in limbo sometimes of whether or not he’ll come see me… but he makes sure i’m not lonely and helps me smile when I’m sad (I live alone) and buys me lovely presents and we’ve so many beautiful memories together of fun things and experiences we’ve had, concert tix for my birthday of my favorite artist, all my younger siblings and parents love him, etc. we are level-headed, driven and happy together. we enjoy our lives better with each other in it, and the sex is great. so why is it that I’ve been having the urge to just snap and say “I think we should break up” just to see what he would do? just to see the pain he would inevitably feel? we will not break up, I know that. and I know in my heart that i don’t mean it and there’s no substance behind the words. we would die for each other.
[i think he knows a bit of how I feel. he said on ft that he feels a bit like he “let me down”, and that he hopes I don’t feel that way. I’ll admit this was cold looking back, but it was true, i said that I was still deciding on it. that did not go down well.
then, on ft, we had the following exchange: “will you let me into your thoughts? are you good?”
me zoned out and gazing quietly at the wall “i’m good. is a woman not allowed to think in peace anymore?”
“she looks like she’s thinking about being discontent”
“no. your woman is content. she would tell you if she was upset”
“I… don’t think you would.”
“the little things, no. the things that matter, yes.”]
five minutes later we talked a little more, I told him it was unfair to keep me in limbo and I didn’t care he was doing fun stuff with family and friends, like I don’t hold that against him at all, I just want him to make up his mind. show me he cared about visiting me by making a PLAN in advance. I’m usually pretty go with the flow but I just think my feelings are valid that enough is enough. should i have been more kind about it??? he hung up clearly hurt and upset, I know because we usually are so gentle and loving saying goodnight, esp on ft. he said, “I’ll make it up to you” and I said “I’m sure you will,” after a silence. he then said goodnight. UGH. why is he hurt now, too? BRUH. there is nothing to forgive, so i can’t say that, and nothin has changed, so i have nothing new to say. ugh.
so, reddit, help me understand if i’m just vindictive and feeling strong emotions, or if this warrants a real conversation about how his actions make me feel.
submitted by ginger-baby1787 to Advice [link] [comments]
i (20f) and my man (24m) are coming up on a year in idk a few months i don’t really keep track. (monthly anniversaries seems inconsequential to me. sidenote, i will be giving more context later in [] those brackets which means optional read !)
lately I’ve been really coming to terms with the reality of who my bf is, who he is to me/i to him etc., and it’s so frustratingly confusing because i am a person who craves deep, authentic, fulfilling love and i have successfully built that with him. however…
as an ex-tomboy, i notice some of my “wearing the pants” traits show themselves when shit hits the fan. I crave to tap into my femininity. to be a good lover. to support him, always, to love him well and to be his rock. I am skilled at it and love doing so. but i feel put on the back burner, and I can’t tell if it’s just me and my own head and my own flaws, or if I’m seeing clearly.
we live in different cities. we have since we met through his brother, whom I’ve known for years and am good friends with. our families know each other and we went to the same high school. we connect on so many things and really truly and deeply love each other. I know i will marry him. we don’t get to see each other very often, and I don’t keep a tally, because I think that’s shallow and stupid, but it just feels like i have been putting in more effort to go and visit him. sometimes he can be arrogant and I secretly am apprehensive of how much he drinks and gets high (i’m a stoner too man but shit I just worry he’s numbing out too much. I don’t say anything tho).
he puts me in limbo sometimes of whether or not he’ll come see me… but he makes sure i’m not lonely and helps me smile when I’m sad (I live alone) and buys me lovely presents and we’ve so many beautiful memories together of fun things and experiences we’ve had, concert tix for my birthday of my favorite artist, all my younger siblings and parents love him, etc. we are level-headed, driven and happy together. we enjoy our lives better with each other in it, and the sex is great. so why is it that I’ve been having the urge to just snap and say “I think we should break up” just to see what he would do? just to see the pain he would inevitably feel? we will not break up, I know that. and I know in my heart that i don’t mean it and there’s no substance behind the words. we would die for each other.
[i think he knows a bit of how I feel. he said on ft that he feels a bit like he “let me down”, and that he hopes I don’t feel that way. I’ll admit this was cold looking back, but it was true, i said that I was still deciding on it. that did not go down well.
then, on ft, we had the following exchange: “will you let me into your thoughts? are you good?”
me zoned out and gazing quietly at the wall “i’m good. is a woman not allowed to think in peace anymore?”
“she looks like she’s thinking about being discontent”
“no. your woman is content. she would tell you if she was upset”
“I… don’t think you would.”
“the little things, no. the things that matter, yes.”]
five minutes later we talked a little more, I told him it was unfair to keep me in limbo and I didn’t care he was doing fun stuff with family and friends, like I don’t hold that against him at all, I just want him to make up his mind. show me he cared about visiting me by making a PLAN in advance. I’m usually pretty go with the flow but I just think my feelings are valid that enough is enough. should i have been more kind about it??? he hung up clearly hurt and upset, I know because we usually are so gentle and loving saying goodnight, esp on ft. he said, “I’ll make it up to you” and I said “I’m sure you will,” after a silence. he then said goodnight. UGH. why is he hurt now, too? BRUH. there is nothing to forgive, so i can’t say that, and nothin has changed, so i have nothing new to say. ugh.
so, reddit, help me understand if i’m just vindictive and feeling strong emotions, or if this warrants a real conversation about how his actions make me feel.
2023.06.09 07:31 Capable-Maybe7247 Without someone constantly keeping him in line, my best friend's fiance turned into a monster. I feel guilty.
The most heartbreaking thing I've ever heart my niece say is "Daddy isn't fun any more. He scares me."
I've been friends with Annie since fifth grade. We were pregnant together, twice. She has two kids, Claire, 8, and Micah, 6. I also have two kids, same ages. Our daughters have been besties since birth, and so have our sons.
I moved over Christmas break, and haven't been able to go back to visit yet. My husband and her fiance are in the same friend group, and they will hang out, but they're not close.
I had noticed some mildly controlling behavior from T, Annie's fiance, over the years, and called him out on it and expressed concern to her, but if I said something to T, he would stop the behavior, and all would be good for a couple months, then it would be something else. Having to call a grown ass man out to make him act right didn't sit right with me, but Annie was content and didn't seem to see my concerns. Until I moved, we were attached at the hip, together literally every week day, and some weekends. Monday we would be at my house, Tuesday at hers, etc.
Since my family moved, we video chat constantly, but it slowly went from two or more times a day to once every other day. They have lives, we have lives, and everyone is always so busy.
She called me a week ago, face red, and quickly and quietly explained to me that since I left, T's been slowly acting worse. Snapping at Annie, then cussing at her. Calling her names. Then berating her. Controlling the money. Threatening to have her phone cut off if she didn't behave exactly how he wanted her to.
And then he choked her.
And my sweet baby girl, Claire, saw. And ran over to try to help her mom.
T let go, and hopped in his car to drive two streets over to his mother's house. So Annie took the chance to call me on FB messenger on one of her kids tablets.
We've been lining her ducks up since. I've been in contact with her parents, and they talk to her through me, through the tablet when T's at work. He spies on her phone activity. Together, we are all getting her and her kids important documents and sentimental items, and having them shipped to her parents house. Her dad will be able to make the trip to get her and the kids next Friday, but if my car is out of the shop sooner, I will.
As soon as T leaves for work, her dad or I will pull up, and she and the kids will get in. And she will have a head start, getting out of state to her parents home.
She's under strict orders to lay low. Start talking idly about school clothes for the kids for next year, maybe signing her daughter up for a school club. All distractions. If you're making plans, you can't be planning to high tail it, right?
Thanks for listening. I'm so wound up and anxious. And I know logically it isn't my fault, but I feel so guilty, like it wouldn't have gotten to this point if I'd been there.
submitted by Capable-Maybe7247 to offmychest [link] [comments]
I've been friends with Annie since fifth grade. We were pregnant together, twice. She has two kids, Claire, 8, and Micah, 6. I also have two kids, same ages. Our daughters have been besties since birth, and so have our sons.
I moved over Christmas break, and haven't been able to go back to visit yet. My husband and her fiance are in the same friend group, and they will hang out, but they're not close.
I had noticed some mildly controlling behavior from T, Annie's fiance, over the years, and called him out on it and expressed concern to her, but if I said something to T, he would stop the behavior, and all would be good for a couple months, then it would be something else. Having to call a grown ass man out to make him act right didn't sit right with me, but Annie was content and didn't seem to see my concerns. Until I moved, we were attached at the hip, together literally every week day, and some weekends. Monday we would be at my house, Tuesday at hers, etc.
Since my family moved, we video chat constantly, but it slowly went from two or more times a day to once every other day. They have lives, we have lives, and everyone is always so busy.
She called me a week ago, face red, and quickly and quietly explained to me that since I left, T's been slowly acting worse. Snapping at Annie, then cussing at her. Calling her names. Then berating her. Controlling the money. Threatening to have her phone cut off if she didn't behave exactly how he wanted her to.
And then he choked her.
And my sweet baby girl, Claire, saw. And ran over to try to help her mom.
T let go, and hopped in his car to drive two streets over to his mother's house. So Annie took the chance to call me on FB messenger on one of her kids tablets.
We've been lining her ducks up since. I've been in contact with her parents, and they talk to her through me, through the tablet when T's at work. He spies on her phone activity. Together, we are all getting her and her kids important documents and sentimental items, and having them shipped to her parents house. Her dad will be able to make the trip to get her and the kids next Friday, but if my car is out of the shop sooner, I will.
As soon as T leaves for work, her dad or I will pull up, and she and the kids will get in. And she will have a head start, getting out of state to her parents home.
She's under strict orders to lay low. Start talking idly about school clothes for the kids for next year, maybe signing her daughter up for a school club. All distractions. If you're making plans, you can't be planning to high tail it, right?
Thanks for listening. I'm so wound up and anxious. And I know logically it isn't my fault, but I feel so guilty, like it wouldn't have gotten to this point if I'd been there.
2023.06.09 07:19 TeachinginJapan1986 Question about Students who don't talk
ALT in Kochi here.
Background: A mixed high school (General and Tech). On the Tech side I take students in pairs during class and just have conversation practice with them for 5 minutes each. This is at the request of the JTE. Its been like this for a while (more than 1 year). So I'm not apart of the class, but I am.
I have a student who doesn't talk. Zero. in the 2 years ive been here, they don't speak at all. now, I am only with this class once a week, so I can't say that They DON'T talk, only that they don't speak English when I'm around.
This came to a head today when the JTE who put me outside asked if I had a problem with the class as a whole. Of course not. They are fun to talk to and all of them have some awesome hobbies. Apparently a student who was paired with the non speaking student said they felt uncomfortable because I would ask the student a question, and they would just stay silent. Then I would ask another, easier question, and they would stay silent. Then I would move back to the other student to fill in the quiet time. JTE then asked if I had a problem with non-speaking student, and if I wanted to be moved.
This shocked me. I very quickly said no, I have no problems with the class. I told her what I do, and then she told me "you need to try something different." I asked her "Have you got them to talk? Do they speaking English to you?" Her response was "well, of course not, but thats on you to figure out. you're in your second year, and if the question doesn't get a response, then you need to change something." And so I asked her "What is the main point of the converstaion practice?" she said "To get students to speak." and I asked "So if this student doesn't speak to me OR you, what can I do to get them to speak?" And she said "Thats on you to figure out. I would use pictures to communicate."
Me:"But isnt the objective of Speaking practice to speak?" JTE: "Yes, but they wont." ME: "So its on me to get them to talk?" JTE: "Yes." ME: "But pictures aren't speaking" JTE: "its communicating."
I've tried asking about hobbies, work, their course of study, their intrests, even their friends to see if he talks, and even they said he speaks very little. So im at a loss. The JTE says I have to figure out a way to do it, but 2 years is a long time. This student almost failed last year because of English.
So ALT redditors, what have you done to get students who don't speak English to even answer small questions? From what I can tell the student looks up as if they are thinking about the answer when I ask the question, so I am partly sure they understand. I don't try to push too much becacuse I don't have access to the student's record, so I don't know if there is a problem or something that could cause more problems. Im just at a loss for what to do. Any help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!
Edit1: I got a hold of the teacher who taught him 1nen, and she said the way she got around it was to ask every student the same question, and start the opposite side from the non-speaking student, and then he would respond. He also writes English on the board when all the students go up to the board. Impromptu speaking though, he never did. She also said that because this was 1nensei time, he might have been answering because he though he had to answer. Now, since he's a 3nen, he might think he doesn't have to answer.
submitted by TeachinginJapan1986 to ALTinginJapan [link] [comments]
Background: A mixed high school (General and Tech). On the Tech side I take students in pairs during class and just have conversation practice with them for 5 minutes each. This is at the request of the JTE. Its been like this for a while (more than 1 year). So I'm not apart of the class, but I am.
I have a student who doesn't talk. Zero. in the 2 years ive been here, they don't speak at all. now, I am only with this class once a week, so I can't say that They DON'T talk, only that they don't speak English when I'm around.
This came to a head today when the JTE who put me outside asked if I had a problem with the class as a whole. Of course not. They are fun to talk to and all of them have some awesome hobbies. Apparently a student who was paired with the non speaking student said they felt uncomfortable because I would ask the student a question, and they would just stay silent. Then I would ask another, easier question, and they would stay silent. Then I would move back to the other student to fill in the quiet time. JTE then asked if I had a problem with non-speaking student, and if I wanted to be moved.
This shocked me. I very quickly said no, I have no problems with the class. I told her what I do, and then she told me "you need to try something different." I asked her "Have you got them to talk? Do they speaking English to you?" Her response was "well, of course not, but thats on you to figure out. you're in your second year, and if the question doesn't get a response, then you need to change something." And so I asked her "What is the main point of the converstaion practice?" she said "To get students to speak." and I asked "So if this student doesn't speak to me OR you, what can I do to get them to speak?" And she said "Thats on you to figure out. I would use pictures to communicate."
Me:"But isnt the objective of Speaking practice to speak?" JTE: "Yes, but they wont." ME: "So its on me to get them to talk?" JTE: "Yes." ME: "But pictures aren't speaking" JTE: "its communicating."
I've tried asking about hobbies, work, their course of study, their intrests, even their friends to see if he talks, and even they said he speaks very little. So im at a loss. The JTE says I have to figure out a way to do it, but 2 years is a long time. This student almost failed last year because of English.
So ALT redditors, what have you done to get students who don't speak English to even answer small questions? From what I can tell the student looks up as if they are thinking about the answer when I ask the question, so I am partly sure they understand. I don't try to push too much becacuse I don't have access to the student's record, so I don't know if there is a problem or something that could cause more problems. Im just at a loss for what to do. Any help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you!
Edit1: I got a hold of the teacher who taught him 1nen, and she said the way she got around it was to ask every student the same question, and start the opposite side from the non-speaking student, and then he would respond. He also writes English on the board when all the students go up to the board. Impromptu speaking though, he never did. She also said that because this was 1nensei time, he might have been answering because he though he had to answer. Now, since he's a 3nen, he might think he doesn't have to answer.
2023.06.09 07:16 beardlesshipster Bi-Daily Song Discussion #79: Mommy Daddy You and I
This is the eighth track from Talking Heads’ eighth and final album, Naked. How do you feel about this song? What are some of your favorite lyrics? What’s your favorite live performance of the song? How would you rank it among the rest of the band’s discography? How would you rate it out of 10 (decimals allowed)?
Studio version
SUGGESTED SCALE: 1-4: Not good. Regularly skip. 5: It’s okay, but I might have to be in the right mood to listen to it. 6: Slightly better than average. I won’t skip it, but I wouldn’t choose to put it on. 7: This is a good song. I enjoy it quite a bit. 8-9: Really enjoyable songs. I rank them pretty high overall. 10: Masterpiece, magnum opus, or similar terminology.
Rating Results 1. Blind: 2. Mr. Jones: 3. Totally Nude: 4. Ruby Dear: 5. (Nothing But) Flowers: 6. The Democratic Circus: 7. The Facts of Life: 8. Mommy Daddy You and I:
submitted by beardlesshipster to talkingheads [link] [comments]
Studio version
SUGGESTED SCALE: 1-4: Not good. Regularly skip. 5: It’s okay, but I might have to be in the right mood to listen to it. 6: Slightly better than average. I won’t skip it, but I wouldn’t choose to put it on. 7: This is a good song. I enjoy it quite a bit. 8-9: Really enjoyable songs. I rank them pretty high overall. 10: Masterpiece, magnum opus, or similar terminology.
Rating Results 1. Blind: 2. Mr. Jones: 3. Totally Nude: 4. Ruby Dear: 5. (Nothing But) Flowers: 6. The Democratic Circus: 7. The Facts of Life: 8. Mommy Daddy You and I:
2023.06.09 07:16 wsppan Today In Phishstory - June 9th
# Today In Phishstory - June 9th Brought to you by tiph-bot. Beep.
All data extracted via The Phishnet API.
Phish, Tuesday 06/09/2009 (14 years ago) Asheville Civic Center, Asheville, NC, USA
Gap Chart, Tour: 2009 Early Summer Tour
Set 1 : Kill Devil Falls , The Moma Dance , Sample in a Jar , Stash , Dog Faced Boy , Gumbo , Tube , Lengthwise , Divided Sky , When the Cactus is in Bloom 1 , Bold As Love
Set 2 : Backwards Down the Number Line > Ghost > Fast Enough for You , Halley's Comet > Maze , Alaska 1 , Theme From the Bottom , Golgi Apparatus , Possum
Encore : Loving Cup
1 Phish debut.
Jamchart Notes:
Backwards Down the Number Line - "Type I" version with great strumming by Trey and a short outro jam that > to "Ghost."
Show Notes:
This show featured the Phish debuts of When the Cactus is in Bloom and Alaska. Before Dog Faced Boy, Trey explained that while living with Fish, he wrote Dog Faced Boy, Tube and Gumbo based on entries in one of Fish's journals. During Dog Faced Boy, Fish left his drum kit and lay down in front of the stage because he didn't need to sing the song. Lengthwise (performed a cappella ) was played for the first time since July 28, 1998 (233 shows). Bold as Love was played for the first time since October 6, 2000 (74 shows).
Listen now at Phish.in!
Phish, Friday 06/09/2000 (23 years ago) On Air East, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, , Japan
Gap Chart, Tour: 2000 Summer Japan Tour
Set 1 : Axilla > Taste , Billy Breathes , Poor Heart > Golgi Apparatus > Funky Bitch , The Moma Dance > First Tube > Chalk Dust Torture
Set 2 : Tweezer , Bouncing Around the Room 1 , The Mango Song , The Squirming Coil > Gotta Jibboo > Meatstick 2 > Tweezer Reprise
Encore : You Enjoy Myself
1 Brief outro solo from Trey, which replaced the usual closing guitar lick. 2 First Meatstick to feature Japanese lyrics.
Jamchart Notes:
Funky Bitch - Atypically improvisational must-hear monster.
Chalk Dust Torture - Winning fans in Japan. This huge first-set-closing version raises hell and ends, but then there's a second ending that concludes cacophonously.
Tweezer - Atypically slow but monstrously improvisational version that has several peaks and valleys before speeding-up and concluding in a melodic, triumphant, must-fucking-hear manner.
The Mango Song - Ending jam segment stretches the limits of the basic jam with some nice rhythmic variation, but still stays "in bounds."
You Enjoy Myself - Deeeep, funky jam/groove, and the return of the B&D; segment!
Show Notes:
The Moma Dance included Funky Bitch teases and Tweezer included Funk #49 teases. This was the first ever Meatstick to feature Japanese lyrics and Trey flubbed the words while attempting to sing them. Bouncing included a brief outro solo from Trey, which replaced the usual closing guitar lick. This show was re- broadcast on Japanese television.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Phish, Friday 06/09/1995 (28 years ago) Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Morrison, CO, USA
Gap Chart, Tour: 1995 Summer Tour
Set 1 : My Friend, My Friend , Divided Sky , Strange Design > The Oh Kee Pa Ceremony > AC/DC Bag > Theme From the Bottom , Taste , Sparkle > Run Like an Antelope
Set 2 : Split Open and Melt , The Wedge , Scent of a Mule , Cavern > David Bowie , Acoustic Army , Sweet Adeline , Slave to the Traffic Light
Encore : The Squirming Coil
Jamchart Notes:
Run Like an Antelope - Unusual jam. Sort of off-key. Sort of evil. Dissonant and anti-melodic. No real peak; it just fades into "Rocco."
Split Open and Melt - Improvisational playing in several sections tests the rhythmic and melodic standards for "SOAM" in this solid version.
Show Notes:
Part of the soundcheck's jam consisted of 25 or 6 to 4.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Phish, Thursday 06/09/1994 (29 years ago) Triad Amphitheater, Salt Lake City, UT, USA
Gap Chart, Tour: 1994 Summer Tour
Set 1 : Llama , Guelah Papyrus , Rift , Down with Disease > It's Ice > If I Could > Maze , Fee 1 , Suzy Greenberg
Set 2 : Split Open and Melt , Glide > Julius , Halley's Comet -> Scent of a Mule , Ginseng Sullivan 2 , Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove , Golgi Apparatus
Encore : Highway to Hell
1 Trey sang verses through megaphone. 2 Acoustic and without microphones. Fish on Madonna washboard.
Jamchart Notes:
It's Ice - Good rocking jam with excellent Fish and solid Trey (of course Page is great).
Mike's Song - The 1st jam is rocking and ass kicking, with a clever little "Tweeprise"-like walk up. The 2nd jam is basically a non-vocal version of something very "Simple"-like. Just listen and you'll hear it. The return to "Mike's" has more crazed '94 scream-infused power action.
Show Notes:
Trey sang the verses of Fee through a megaphone. Ginseng Sullivan was performed acoustic without microphones and featured Fish on Madonna washboard.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Phish, Saturday 06/09/1990 (33 years ago) The Wetlands Preserve, New York, NY, USA
Gap Chart, Tour: 1990 Tour
Set 1 : Possum , Lawn Boy > Reba , Dinner and a Movie > Bouncing Around the Room > Tweezer , Uncle Pen > Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove
Set 2 : Whole Lotta Love Jam > Harry Hood , The Man Who Stepped Into Yesterday > Avenu Malkenu > La Grange , Fee -> Foam , The Oh Kee Pa Ceremony > Suzy Greenberg > Run Like an Antelope , Hold Your Head Up > Terrapin > Hold Your Head Up , Harpua , Good Times Bad Times
Encore : Take the 'A' Train > Contact
Jamchart Notes:
Foam - -> in from "Fee." Groovy and excellent Page section with solid backing from Mike and Fish. It's all good from there.
Run Like an Antelope - Good exploratory version that gets nicely beyond the standard. Great tension, dissonance and experimental jamming.
Show Notes:
Harpua included Funkytown teases and 'A' Train contained a Dixie tease from Trey. The band launched into the second set-opening Whole Lotta Love Jam as the DJ had been spinning the original Zeppelin version. The opening act was The Aquarium Rescue Unit.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Trey Anastasio Trio, 2023-06-09 Mission Ballroom, Denver, CO, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-trio-june-09-2023-mission-ballroom-denver-co-usa.html
Tour: Not Part of a Tour
Show Notes:
Trey Anastasio Band, 2006-06-09 Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre - Charlotte, Charlotte, NC, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-june-09-2006-verizon-wireless-amphitheatre-charlotte-charlotte-nc-usa.html
Tour: TAB - Early Summer 2006 Tour
Show Notes: This single set performance was as the opening act for Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. This setlist is unconfirmed as recordings of the performance do not circulate.
Trey Anastasio Band, 2002-06-09 Tower City Amphitheatre, Cleveland, OH, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-june-09-2002-tower-city-amphitheatre-cleveland-oh-usa.html
Tour: TAB - The Dectet Summer 2002 Tour
Show Notes: The rendition of "Plasma" from this gig appears on Trey's live CD of the same name. Trey performed "Ray Dawn Balloon" acoustic.
Mike Gordon, 2015-06-09 The Pageant, St. Louis, MO, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/mike-gordon-june-09-2015-the-pageant-st-louis-mo-usa.html
Tour: Mike Gordon - Summer 2015 Tour
Show Notes:
Jazz Mandolin Project, 2004-06-09 32 Bleu, Colorado Springs, CO, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/jon-fishman-june-09-2004-32-bleu-colorado-springs-co-usa.html
Tour: Fish - Jazz Mandolin Project Summer 2004 Tour
Show Notes:
Page McConnell, 2007-06-09 Bogart's, Cincinnati, OH, USA
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/page-mcconnell-june-09-2007-bogarts-cincinnati-oh-usa.html
Tour: Page McConnell Spring & Summer 2007 Tour
Show Notes: This setlist is unconfirmed as recordings of the show do not circulate.
submitted by wsppan to phish [link] [comments]
All data extracted via The Phishnet API.
Phish
Gap Chart, Tour: 2009 Early Summer Tour
Set 1 : Kill Devil Falls , The Moma Dance , Sample in a Jar , Stash , Dog Faced Boy , Gumbo , Tube , Lengthwise , Divided Sky , When the Cactus is in Bloom 1 , Bold As Love
Set 2 : Backwards Down the Number Line > Ghost > Fast Enough for You , Halley's Comet > Maze , Alaska 1 , Theme From the Bottom , Golgi Apparatus , Possum
Encore : Loving Cup
1 Phish debut.
Jamchart Notes:
Backwards Down the Number Line - "Type I" version with great strumming by Trey and a short outro jam that > to "Ghost."
Show Notes:
This show featured the Phish debuts of When the Cactus is in Bloom and Alaska. Before Dog Faced Boy, Trey explained that while living with Fish, he wrote Dog Faced Boy, Tube and Gumbo based on entries in one of Fish's journals. During Dog Faced Boy, Fish left his drum kit and lay down in front of the stage because he didn't need to sing the song. Lengthwise (performed a cappella ) was played for the first time since July 28, 1998 (233 shows). Bold as Love was played for the first time since October 6, 2000 (74 shows).
Listen now at Phish.in!
Gap Chart, Tour: 2000 Summer Japan Tour
Set 1 : Axilla > Taste , Billy Breathes , Poor Heart > Golgi Apparatus > Funky Bitch , The Moma Dance > First Tube > Chalk Dust Torture
Set 2 : Tweezer , Bouncing Around the Room 1 , The Mango Song , The Squirming Coil > Gotta Jibboo > Meatstick 2 > Tweezer Reprise
Encore : You Enjoy Myself
1 Brief outro solo from Trey, which replaced the usual closing guitar lick. 2 First Meatstick to feature Japanese lyrics.
Jamchart Notes:
Funky Bitch - Atypically improvisational must-hear monster.
Chalk Dust Torture - Winning fans in Japan. This huge first-set-closing version raises hell and ends, but then there's a second ending that concludes cacophonously.
Tweezer - Atypically slow but monstrously improvisational version that has several peaks and valleys before speeding-up and concluding in a melodic, triumphant, must-fucking-hear manner.
The Mango Song - Ending jam segment stretches the limits of the basic jam with some nice rhythmic variation, but still stays "in bounds."
You Enjoy Myself - Deeeep, funky jam/groove, and the return of the B&D; segment!
Show Notes:
The Moma Dance included Funky Bitch teases and Tweezer included Funk #49 teases. This was the first ever Meatstick to feature Japanese lyrics and Trey flubbed the words while attempting to sing them. Bouncing included a brief outro solo from Trey, which replaced the usual closing guitar lick. This show was re- broadcast on Japanese television.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Gap Chart, Tour: 1995 Summer Tour
Set 1 : My Friend, My Friend , Divided Sky , Strange Design > The Oh Kee Pa Ceremony > AC/DC Bag > Theme From the Bottom , Taste , Sparkle > Run Like an Antelope
Set 2 : Split Open and Melt , The Wedge , Scent of a Mule , Cavern > David Bowie , Acoustic Army , Sweet Adeline , Slave to the Traffic Light
Encore : The Squirming Coil
Jamchart Notes:
Run Like an Antelope - Unusual jam. Sort of off-key. Sort of evil. Dissonant and anti-melodic. No real peak; it just fades into "Rocco."
Split Open and Melt - Improvisational playing in several sections tests the rhythmic and melodic standards for "SOAM" in this solid version.
Show Notes:
Part of the soundcheck's jam consisted of 25 or 6 to 4.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Gap Chart, Tour: 1994 Summer Tour
Set 1 : Llama , Guelah Papyrus , Rift , Down with Disease > It's Ice > If I Could > Maze , Fee 1 , Suzy Greenberg
Set 2 : Split Open and Melt , Glide > Julius , Halley's Comet -> Scent of a Mule , Ginseng Sullivan 2 , Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove , Golgi Apparatus
Encore : Highway to Hell
1 Trey sang verses through megaphone. 2 Acoustic and without microphones. Fish on Madonna washboard.
Jamchart Notes:
It's Ice - Good rocking jam with excellent Fish and solid Trey (of course Page is great).
Mike's Song - The 1st jam is rocking and ass kicking, with a clever little "Tweeprise"-like walk up. The 2nd jam is basically a non-vocal version of something very "Simple"-like. Just listen and you'll hear it. The return to "Mike's" has more crazed '94 scream-infused power action.
Show Notes:
Trey sang the verses of Fee through a megaphone. Ginseng Sullivan was performed acoustic without microphones and featured Fish on Madonna washboard.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Gap Chart, Tour: 1990 Tour
Set 1 : Possum , Lawn Boy > Reba , Dinner and a Movie > Bouncing Around the Room > Tweezer , Uncle Pen > Mike's Song > I Am Hydrogen > Weekapaug Groove
Set 2 : Whole Lotta Love Jam > Harry Hood , The Man Who Stepped Into Yesterday > Avenu Malkenu > La Grange , Fee -> Foam , The Oh Kee Pa Ceremony > Suzy Greenberg > Run Like an Antelope , Hold Your Head Up > Terrapin > Hold Your Head Up , Harpua , Good Times Bad Times
Encore : Take the 'A' Train > Contact
Jamchart Notes:
Foam - -> in from "Fee." Groovy and excellent Page section with solid backing from Mike and Fish. It's all good from there.
Run Like an Antelope - Good exploratory version that gets nicely beyond the standard. Great tension, dissonance and experimental jamming.
Show Notes:
Harpua included Funkytown teases and 'A' Train contained a Dixie tease from Trey. The band launched into the second set-opening Whole Lotta Love Jam as the DJ had been spinning the original Zeppelin version. The opening act was The Aquarium Rescue Unit.
Listen now at Phish.in!
Trey Anastasio
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-trio-june-09-2023-mission-ballroom-denver-co-usa.html
Tour: Not Part of a Tour
Show Notes:
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-june-09-2006-verizon-wireless-amphitheatre-charlotte-charlotte-nc-usa.html
Tour: TAB - Early Summer 2006 Tour
Show Notes: This single set performance was as the opening act for Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers. This setlist is unconfirmed as recordings of the performance do not circulate.
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/trey-anastasio-june-09-2002-tower-city-amphitheatre-cleveland-oh-usa.html
Tour: TAB - The Dectet Summer 2002 Tour
Show Notes: The rendition of "Plasma" from this gig appears on Trey's live CD of the same name. Trey performed "Ray Dawn Balloon" acoustic.
Mike Gordon
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/mike-gordon-june-09-2015-the-pageant-st-louis-mo-usa.html
Tour: Mike Gordon - Summer 2015 Tour
Show Notes:
John Fishman
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/jon-fishman-june-09-2004-32-bleu-colorado-springs-co-usa.html
Tour: Fish - Jazz Mandolin Project Summer 2004 Tour
Show Notes:
Page McConnell
Setlist: https://phish.net/setlists/page-mcconnell-june-09-2007-bogarts-cincinnati-oh-usa.html
Tour: Page McConnell Spring & Summer 2007 Tour
Show Notes: This setlist is unconfirmed as recordings of the show do not circulate.
2023.06.09 07:12 Litt_Kiddie New Music Friday (06/09/2023) + ❗ Important announcements ❗
G'day and welcome to NMF#137!
The Reddit CEO u/spez will be doing an AMA tomorrow to talk about the "latest API updates, including accessibility, mod bots, and third-party mod tools." Notably, pricing and third party app support is missing from that list but it's a good sign either way. You can check that out here.
Here's our current plan of action:
To keep the community going through this period, however long it ends up being, JOIN THE DISCORD. It would be great to get that more active, so please - share anything and everything dubstep related there! Throw random thoughts and ideas there so that the activity continues.
Also - if we are still dark by the time next Friday rocks around, NMF will be available exclusively on discord and on a new blog website graciously put together by u/jmabeebiz2: www.dubstepnmf.xyz This stuff is super cool so massive shout out again to u/jmabeebiz2. The spotify playlist will be maintained like usual.
Thank you everyone for the support and trust as we navigate this tricky chapter - let's hope things change for the better. Modmail will stay open for any questions and concerns and also feel free to ping or DM myself or divided_eye on Discord.
Thanks for your attention, now for what you all came for, the wub wubs :)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Did I miss anything? Provide new music (from this week) in the comments below, so that this thread can be updated. Did you miss anything? Previous New Music Friday posts are available here and last weeks playlist is here.
Be sure to follow the dubstep NMF playlist, updated weekly with all the contents of the post. Or, if you prefer something a little more hand-curated, try u/BahaMan69's wubly, or my own Hypers playlist.
Come and hang out on discord! but like for real because you won't be hanging out here :p
It's been real! Hopefully we'll see each other here like normal soon :)
submitted by Litt_Kiddie to dubstep [link] [comments]
Important: Reddit API changes and our plan of action.
As I'm sure most of you have heard, Reddit is making some extremely anti-consumer changes to their API, causing the end of popular third party app Apollo, with more likely to fall. For more information, here's our full post regarding the situation, and you can read Apollo's statement here, it's worth the read.The Reddit CEO u/spez will be doing an AMA tomorrow to talk about the "latest API updates, including accessibility, mod bots, and third-party mod tools." Notably, pricing and third party app support is missing from that list but it's a good sign either way. You can check that out here.
Here's our current plan of action:
- The subreddit will be going private for at least 48 hours from June 12-14.
- We will also stop any posts from going up for at least 48 hours from June 12-14.
To keep the community going through this period, however long it ends up being, JOIN THE DISCORD. It would be great to get that more active, so please - share anything and everything dubstep related there! Throw random thoughts and ideas there so that the activity continues.
Also - if we are still dark by the time next Friday rocks around, NMF will be available exclusively on discord and on a new blog website graciously put together by u/jmabeebiz2: www.dubstepnmf.xyz This stuff is super cool so massive shout out again to u/jmabeebiz2. The spotify playlist will be maintained like usual.
Thank you everyone for the support and trust as we navigate this tricky chapter - let's hope things change for the better. Modmail will stay open for any questions and concerns and also feel free to ping or DM myself or divided_eye on Discord.
Thanks for your attention, now for what you all came for, the wub wubs :)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Singles
- Eptic - Witchcraft
- Teminite & Skybreak - Accelerate
- Effin - Yesterdays
- DIESEL & Hairitage & Shaquille O'Neal - BANG YOUR HEAD
- SISTO - SPELL PACT
- Celldweller & INHUMAN - Blind Lead the Blind - INHUMAN Remix
- Spag Heddy & Kompany - Hammer Time
- Sharks & Disciple - Colour Bass Vol.1 [Sample Pack Demo]
- Versa - Power Outage
- SNAILS & Tori Levett - Set Fire
- RIOT - Excalibur
- LYNY - Spill
- EXTRETCH - SFX
- Vanatice - Navi
- Alix Perez & Headland - Coco / Shuriken
- VAMPA - Transylvania A/B
- Midnight Tyrannosaurus & Stepps - Ballad of the Ravenous
- Juelz - Surrender
- Staysick - Dis
- Notarin - DONTTREADONME
- Distinct Motive - Snakes A/B
- Crystal Skies & She Is Jules - Heart's Still Beating
- Kliptic & g the shep - Don't You
EPs
- Dino Shadix - Dinosaur Whisperer EP
- Runnit - Triple Decker EP
- Delcherro - Target Practice EP
- Antima - Tyrant
- Varien - In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts
- SHVRON - Rats In A Maze EP
Albums
Did I miss anything? Provide new music (from this week) in the comments below, so that this thread can be updated. Did you miss anything? Previous New Music Friday posts are available here and last weeks playlist is here.
Be sure to follow the dubstep NMF playlist, updated weekly with all the contents of the post. Or, if you prefer something a little more hand-curated, try u/BahaMan69's wubly, or my own Hypers playlist.
Come and hang out on discord! but like for real because you won't be hanging out here :p
It's been real! Hopefully we'll see each other here like normal soon :)
2023.06.09 07:11 Visible-Tune-5942 3 Best Hair Pieces For Women Over 50
 | IntroductionAs the summer sun sizzles, let's talk about a fabulous solution for those who want a boost of volume and coverage that's as natural as possible.Yes, we're talking about hair pieces for women, the secret weapon against thinning hair. Don't worry; it's a rite of passage we all go through! Now, we've done the leg work and hand-picked the 3 best hair pieces for women over 50! 3 Best hair pieces for women over 50 1. Topper Hair Pieces For WomenWe're kicking off our fabulous list of hair pieces for women over 50 with the marvelous Hat Hair VersaFiber® Topper Hair Piece by Paula Young®. This little gem is your ultimate companion, whether you're soaking up the sun or bundled up in chilly weather.Picture this: a breathable, heat-stylable topper that fits like a dream under your favorite head covering. It's like magic – with just a flick of a hat, you transform your entire look! This hairpiece is made with VersaFiber, which means you can style it with your trusty heat tools up to 350°F! Remember to use heat protectant spray before using the heat styling tool. The Hat Hair VersaFiber® Topper is a true lifesaver, thanks to its COOLCAP® construction. The open, breathable top circulates refreshing air while bidding farewell to pesky perspiration! 2. Clip-On Bangs Hair Pieces For WomenCommitment-free clip-on bang hair piecesLadies, let's face it, with age, dealing with a receding or thinning hairline can be challenging. And that makes Easy Bang Hair Piece by Paula Young® an absolute must-have! These clip-on bangs are an absolute game-changer, giving you all the fringe benefits without the commitment of a haircut. And attaching hair pieces like this is a breeze, thanks to its 3 undetectable built-in wig clips. All you have to do is just clip them on and off! You'll love the natural look of these graduated bangs with longer, curved side pieces. Plus, the Kanekalon® synthetic fibers make maintenance a breeze, so you can rock your new style with minimal effort. 3. Wiglet Hair Pieces For WomenLadies, let's wrap up our fabulous lineup of hair pieces for women over 50 with the Delicate Touch Wiglet Hair Piece by Paula Young®. This sassy little number will have you feeling carefree and unstoppable!With this hairpiece, you'll have instant volume, length, and texture, not to mention the extra coverage exactly where you need it. This beauty seamlessly integrates with your existing hair, giving you a natural and effortless look. With just two clips, you'll be rocking a whole new 'do in no time. And here's the best part: this wiglet is made with easy-care synthetic fibers that hold the style with minimal effort. That means less time fussing with your hair and more time conquering the world! ConclusionEnhance what mother nature gave you with these natural-looking hair pieces for women over 50! From problem-solving wiglet hair pieces to hat hair pieces for women, you never have to sacrifice style for functionality again.Paula Young® has a treasure trove of hair pieces just waiting for you to explore. Prepare to take your hair game to a whole new level with their incredible collection of versatile options. Dealing with thinning hair or hair loss? Read Choosing The Best Wiglet Based On Your Hair Loss Stage to discover the perfect wiglet hairpiece that caters to all your unique needs. |
2023.06.09 07:09 ThrowAway7s2 "A well organized Girl Scout weekend at Cuesta" from the May 29, 1973 Door County Advocate
 | A well organized Girl Scout weekend at CuestaPop and Popcorn. Julaine Jeanquart, Patty Baudhuin, Mrs. David Marsh, Jackie LaVine, Teresa Stroh, Kelly McDougall, Barb Kelsey and Kim Pagenkopf.By JACQUY STROH It's secluded in a wooded area near Kangaroo Lake. The large cabin, of surprisingly modern construction, has no indoor plumbing. Lack of plumbing does not upset, or even surprise, the 12 eager girls tumbling out of station wagons with sleeping bags in tow. They are Junior Girl Scouts, Troop 350. And this is their first weekend camping experience at Cuesta. Their leader, Mrs. David Marsh, supervises the stowing of bedrolls in open box-shaped cupboards. Next she shows everyone the "washing-up room"; basins are arranged on a shelf beneath the counter-top; towel racks are fastened to the shelf. A "water-boy" sits on one end of the counter-top. Perhaps because this is a girls' cabin, several mirrors adorn the walls. Then everyone sits on benches at picnic tables in the middle of the main room to eat their nosebag suppers. When appetites are satisfied, the leader instructs the girls to throw their paper bags into the fireplace. "We'll build a fire later and make popcorn." "We want to go to the bathroom," announces Barbara. "We know where it is," Paula adds, "right down the gravel path." Half a dozen of the girls put on their coats and go out into the gathering darkness, carrying flashlights. Five minutes later they come running back, squealing and shoving one another to get into the cabin door. "There's something out there!" "Loud noises down by the outhouse!" "Something is going bang-bang-thud, bang-bang-thud!" Motioning for quiet their leader explains that there is nothing to be frightened of in the woods. "I'll go back out with you, girls," Chaperone says with false bravado. "Maybe there are some rascally raccoons out there." Shining her flashlight on the gravel path, Chaperone leads the way toward the source of the noise. Some of the less-intimidated scouts chant, "There's lions, and tigers, and bears, of my! Lions, and tigers, and bears, oh my!" Up ahead something is going bang-bang-thud! Reaching the outhouse, Chaperone takes a firmer grip on her flashlight and pushes open the first door. "Nothing in there!" She pushes open the second door. "Nothing in there!" From the other end of the outhouse comes bang-bang-thud! "No raccoons, girls; not even lions or bears. But watch the doors." The wind caught the doors. opening them slightly and banging them gently shut. "Oh, it's only the wind banging the doors." "Shucks" said Chaperone, wiping her brow. Back in the cabin they gathered around Mrs. Marsh who explained that they would now go on a night hike. Chaperone sighed softly and put her coat back on. Down the gravel path, past the no-longer-scary outhouse, and out into a field under the stars, they walked. "Look, there's the big dipper." "And the little one too." "I can see the North Star!" Mrs. Marsh showed them several fire scars where they would do outdoor cooking tomorrow. Then they started back to the Scout Cabin singing, "The other day I saw a Bear" After washing up, spreading bedrolls, and getting into their pajamas, they divided into "details": the fire-building detail, the find the pan and melt the butter detail, and the pop the corn detail. Chaperone took pictures of the gay group and joined them in eating buttered popcorn and drinking soda pop. Then, to bed. At four o'clock in the morning, somebody shook Chaperone's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Will you go to the bathroom with me?" Groggily Chaperone pushed back her covers and got to her feet. The scout who'd roused her was searching for something, using her flashlight as a guide. Whispers: "What are you looking for?" "My other red tennis shoe." "Did you look under your blanket?" "It's okay; I'll put on my boots instead." Just then another scout awakened and felt the need to join them. Once outside, and jogging down the now-familiar path, Chaperone became aware of how sweet and fresh the air smells at four in the morning. Three hours later Mrs. Marsh sounded reveille. Quickly everyone washed up, dressed, and began the work of the preassigned Patrols. The Water Patrol filled three "water-boys" from the outdoor pump (started by electric switch). The Cooking Patrol began making French toast. Mary, flipping a piece of toast, asked, "Does this count toward our Cooking Badge?" Mrs. Marsh assured her that it certainly did. The Hospitality Patrol gathered leaves, shells, and pretty bits of wood and fashioned centerpieces for the tables. Breakfast ready, they sat down. "Please pass the syrup," Kelly requested politely. The leader passed the pitcher. "Mrs. Marsh, that doesn't look like syrup on your French toast." "Why, this is the syrup pitch- oh no, this is the coffee pitcher!" Amid the merry laughter, the leader tasted her French toast and pronounced it "Exotic! Sort of like the Galloping Gourmet might cook." After cleanup and a brisk hike in the woods, the Cooking Patrol began making Jungle Brew over an outdoor fire. Ordinary cooks of the world would call it spaghetti 'n hamburger, or glorified goulash. Only Girl Scouts understand its very special essence. Early in the afternoon, co-leader, Mrs. Bob Schultz joined the campers. They spent the next two hours studying nature. Saturday's supper offered another surprising specialty, Hawaiian Eyes. Teresa and Patty placed shortcakes filled with crushed pineapple sweetened with brown sugar in aluminum foil wrappers. After heating in the campfire they made a scrumptious dessert. Mustard, meant for the hot dogs, was spilled five times during supper, once into someone's milk. After supper, Brother Andrew arrived driving a cattle truck. Seeing the questioning look on Chaperone's face, Mrs. Schultz calmly explained that they would all ride in the back of the truck to attend mass in Baileys Harbor. It was just a windy enough ride to blow away all adult inhibitions. Before entering the church, everybody picked straw off their coats. Before bedtime the scouts put on a hairstyling contest, shrugging off the fact that sleep would muss their elegant coiffures. Sometime around midnight, a voice came out of the darkness. Sleepy heads started up to hear Mrs. Schultz intone, "I want one print here, and one print there!" When nothing followed this startling pronouncement, the sleepy heads giggled and sank back into their pillows. On Sunday afternoon they set off hiking down Logerquist road to visit the Brothers of St. Joseph Novitiate. Halfway there Brother Andrew met them in the cattle truck. At the farm, operated by the Brothers, the scouts were treated to horseback rides. Then, Brother John asked, "Now, who would like to ride the bull?" "The bull!! He'll throw us off!" "No, he won't. He's a gentle old fellow, really." "Okay, I'll ride him." "So will I!" And ride him they did. The adults watched from a sensible distance. After the rides, the Brothers invited them into the big recreation room of the farmhouse. They gathered around the piano. Brother Andrew played and the girls sang. He surprised them by knowing every request. Next, refreshments. The scouts brought out cupcakes and cookies from their totebags. Brother John served glasses of Kool-aid. Then it was time to pile into the back of the cattle truck. The girls said good-bye to Brother John and the spotted dogs, Alice and Poncho. Brother Andrew drove them back to camp. The cabin was tidied and locked. Then everyone participated in a flag ceremony to close the day. "Would you like camping here every weekend?" asked Mrs. Marsh. "Ye-e-sss!" came the enthusiastic reply. https://archive.co.door.wi.us:443/jsp/RcWebImageViewer.jsp?doc_id=1e8fc801-90a4-4104-8e86-19a1ea0947dc/wsbd0000/20170120/00000311&pg_seq=12 Courtesy of the Door County Library Newspaper Archive |
2023.06.09 07:05 BIGstickBRAD Golfed with a weird A-Hole
I played with a random guy at my local course, and it was clear after the first hole he was all up in his head and had watched way too many YouTube videos. For the first 6 holes he was constantly asking me questions about a proper swing, and using terms he clearly picked up from watching instructional YouTube videos. After he had sprayed his driver to the right rough on the par 5 7th, he proceeded to top the hell out of his 2nd shot, and I kindly suggested “you should try keeping your feet planted, they slide a lot throughout your swing,” and he flipped his shit out of the blue with “OK ENOUGH F%#KING ADVICE, MY HEAD IS OVERFLOWING WITH WAY TOO MUCH RIGHT NOW” very loudly and extremely angrily at me.
I got pretty quiet and said “my bad dude, won’t happen again.”
This happened after 6 straight holes of him asking ME for swing tips…anyone have a similar story of a guy living rent free in his own head?
submitted by BIGstickBRAD to golf [link] [comments]
I got pretty quiet and said “my bad dude, won’t happen again.”
This happened after 6 straight holes of him asking ME for swing tips…anyone have a similar story of a guy living rent free in his own head?
2023.06.09 06:59 Emo_Tacos A dumb poem i wrote for a Oc 2 yrs ago
 | submitted by Emo_Tacos to GachaClub [link] [comments] |
2023.06.09 06:54 Hazys DIESEL & Hairitage: A High-Octane Collaboration to “Bang Your Head” via Monstercat
 | submitted by Hazys to RetroWorldNews [link] [comments] |
2023.06.09 06:46 IVBIVB Asked for super spicy wings. Got MC'ed by the cook.
In the time before time, when I was in college, a buddy of mine and I used to go to (buffalo/chicken) Wings night every Monday at the local joint. In NY, so the wings were legit. EXCEPT..."suicide" level hot was never really that spicy, just a bunch of tabasco. One day we were really jonesing for hot. We had physically seen the cook in prior visits, big burly "don't screw with me" type of person. I told the waiter to write down our directions to the cook. We said "Table 8 says you cannot make these wings spicy enough for them because you like small boys and are not enough of a man to make them hot".
He first refused to write that down, we slipped him a $10 (big money back then) and said "just blame us".
A pitcher of crap beer and 1 dozen wings for each came out. They smelled spicy, so we were stoked.
Had one bit of one wing. Immediately chugged our 16 ounce beer cuz OMG HOW DID HE MAKE THEM THIS SPICY ON A WHIM!
We each ate the remainder of the very first wing, that pitcher of beer was annihilated.
We hadn't noticed but the cook was sticking his head out the door watching us. At this point he's crying from laughing so hard. Comes over and says he'll make us a fresh order, those were the ones sitting at the very bottom of the prep bucket for hours, had been soaking in the chili peppers/etc and they never served them as a rule.
We told him that wasn't right - we demanded hyper spicy, he delivered, it was our responsibility to finish them with a smile. We immediately called 2 friends, told them in 2 hours we'd need to be picked up because we'd be hammered and they had to come drive us and my car home. They were baffled as it was a Monday night but agreed.
Took 2 full hours and 3 pitchers of beer each but we finished them. We stayed as quiet as we could given how much pain we were in, thankfully the restaurant was always <50% full. The cook came out to give us a high five and asked "I'm betting you won't (ask for ultra spicy) again right?" "No sir we will not, you have beaten us and we acknowledge your superiority"
We left a monster tip and our sober friends drove us home. Made both of us sit in the backseat of my car as they didn't want to risk anyone throwing up in their car or on one of them as the driver.
Epilogue: 12 far-hotter-than-suicide buffalo wings didn't just burn on the way down. Thankfully we lived with only college students, who heard "OH MY GOD PLEASE KILL ME NOW" from the bathroom for 48 hours after that.
Best. Wings. Ever.
submitted by IVBIVB to MaliciousCompliance [link] [comments]
He first refused to write that down, we slipped him a $10 (big money back then) and said "just blame us".
A pitcher of crap beer and 1 dozen wings for each came out. They smelled spicy, so we were stoked.
Had one bit of one wing. Immediately chugged our 16 ounce beer cuz OMG HOW DID HE MAKE THEM THIS SPICY ON A WHIM!
We each ate the remainder of the very first wing, that pitcher of beer was annihilated.
We hadn't noticed but the cook was sticking his head out the door watching us. At this point he's crying from laughing so hard. Comes over and says he'll make us a fresh order, those were the ones sitting at the very bottom of the prep bucket for hours, had been soaking in the chili peppers/etc and they never served them as a rule.
We told him that wasn't right - we demanded hyper spicy, he delivered, it was our responsibility to finish them with a smile. We immediately called 2 friends, told them in 2 hours we'd need to be picked up because we'd be hammered and they had to come drive us and my car home. They were baffled as it was a Monday night but agreed.
Took 2 full hours and 3 pitchers of beer each but we finished them. We stayed as quiet as we could given how much pain we were in, thankfully the restaurant was always <50% full. The cook came out to give us a high five and asked "I'm betting you won't (ask for ultra spicy) again right?" "No sir we will not, you have beaten us and we acknowledge your superiority"
We left a monster tip and our sober friends drove us home. Made both of us sit in the backseat of my car as they didn't want to risk anyone throwing up in their car or on one of them as the driver.
Epilogue: 12 far-hotter-than-suicide buffalo wings didn't just burn on the way down. Thankfully we lived with only college students, who heard "OH MY GOD PLEASE KILL ME NOW" from the bathroom for 48 hours after that.
Best. Wings. Ever.
2023.06.09 06:32 deffonotanotheralt Shitty result, need to improve or else won't be able to go for university. How do I get better at chemistry?
Hi everyone,
I'm currently doing A levels and well I'm having a rlly serious problem that is practicals. So A levels can be modular which is that you can do half the exams an year early, and the other half in the second year. I didn't do well on chem tbh. Though it was still an A which is the highest grade at AS Level but my board makes it so your rank or percentile affects your ability to get an A* as your final A2 grade. Anything close to 93 percentile makes it so you can easily manage a 90 percentile A* in the next year. My board makes it so 23% of the grade is just practicals. Now the thing is the practicals are extremely weird bcz normally the qs' language is so weird nobody understands them. I managed to get a 23/40 on practicals which was still an A and was only given to 12% of students taking AS Level Chemistry as per the session's statistics. I don't really have practicals anymore, they're done with so idrc now but I managed to get a 95/130 (thresholds were 83/130 for an A) total this year which means I need to get about a 105/130 next year to ensure I don't miss my University offer which is likely going to be an A* for chemistry. There's alternate to practicals this year or "planning" where I just need to memorise a few pages of precautions and spit them out word to word on the paper. No biggie, I can do that easily. There's one more paper which is structured. I had structured and mcqs for year 1 too. I did well on mcqs (33/40) but kinda shit on structured (44/60), I was hoping around 50/60 but ig I made a lot of mistakes. No more mcqs in the second year so yay but the structured is now of 100 marks and covers knowledge that was required for the 60 marker one as well as 18 or so extra added chapters of inorgo and orgo chem. The parts in physical chem are well covered for me since I wasn't aware those topics were for second year so I'd done them anyways. I also just in general do better in physics and have been reading equilibrium thermodynamics by CJ Adkins and tho at some points I've wanted to bang my head against a wall I'm gaining quite a bit of knowledge about thermodynamics so.... There's electrochemistry this year which I'm covering from the Oxford Primers Electrochemistry book. I'm weak at Organic chem a bit and sometimes I make mistakes in inorganic qs where I'm asked to balance ionic eqs to make a full balanced equation with no free charges or free ions.
I'll definitely be doing more practice problems this year and am about to begin doing papers from now itself compared to last year for which I began doing papers 2 months in advance only.
I would rlly appreciate some feedback on what else I can do to make sure I don't lose my university offer for next year.
Just so I give a rundown on what topics the specification covers, I've just attached a link to the pdf which has my syllabus in it.
https://www.cambridgeinternational.org/Images/554616-2022-2024-syllabus.pdf
Thanks in advance!
Edit: I do have an option that is redoing my first year papers but I'm also redoing my maths papers bcz I messed up one module due to which I have to redo both even though I had an A in both and had a near perfect score in the other module.
Overall, if I redo the first year papers, I'll be doing 11 papers in a session I was supposed to be doing 6 papers in.
submitted by deffonotanotheralt to OrganicChemistry [link] [comments]
I'm currently doing A levels and well I'm having a rlly serious problem that is practicals. So A levels can be modular which is that you can do half the exams an year early, and the other half in the second year. I didn't do well on chem tbh. Though it was still an A which is the highest grade at AS Level but my board makes it so your rank or percentile affects your ability to get an A* as your final A2 grade. Anything close to 93 percentile makes it so you can easily manage a 90 percentile A* in the next year. My board makes it so 23% of the grade is just practicals. Now the thing is the practicals are extremely weird bcz normally the qs' language is so weird nobody understands them. I managed to get a 23/40 on practicals which was still an A and was only given to 12% of students taking AS Level Chemistry as per the session's statistics. I don't really have practicals anymore, they're done with so idrc now but I managed to get a 95/130 (thresholds were 83/130 for an A) total this year which means I need to get about a 105/130 next year to ensure I don't miss my University offer which is likely going to be an A* for chemistry. There's alternate to practicals this year or "planning" where I just need to memorise a few pages of precautions and spit them out word to word on the paper. No biggie, I can do that easily. There's one more paper which is structured. I had structured and mcqs for year 1 too. I did well on mcqs (33/40) but kinda shit on structured (44/60), I was hoping around 50/60 but ig I made a lot of mistakes. No more mcqs in the second year so yay but the structured is now of 100 marks and covers knowledge that was required for the 60 marker one as well as 18 or so extra added chapters of inorgo and orgo chem. The parts in physical chem are well covered for me since I wasn't aware those topics were for second year so I'd done them anyways. I also just in general do better in physics and have been reading equilibrium thermodynamics by CJ Adkins and tho at some points I've wanted to bang my head against a wall I'm gaining quite a bit of knowledge about thermodynamics so.... There's electrochemistry this year which I'm covering from the Oxford Primers Electrochemistry book. I'm weak at Organic chem a bit and sometimes I make mistakes in inorganic qs where I'm asked to balance ionic eqs to make a full balanced equation with no free charges or free ions.
I'll definitely be doing more practice problems this year and am about to begin doing papers from now itself compared to last year for which I began doing papers 2 months in advance only.
I would rlly appreciate some feedback on what else I can do to make sure I don't lose my university offer for next year.
Just so I give a rundown on what topics the specification covers, I've just attached a link to the pdf which has my syllabus in it.
https://www.cambridgeinternational.org/Images/554616-2022-2024-syllabus.pdf
Thanks in advance!
Edit: I do have an option that is redoing my first year papers but I'm also redoing my maths papers bcz I messed up one module due to which I have to redo both even though I had an A in both and had a near perfect score in the other module.
Overall, if I redo the first year papers, I'll be doing 11 papers in a session I was supposed to be doing 6 papers in.
2023.06.09 06:29 deffonotanotheralt Shitty result, need to improve or else won't be able to go for university. How do I get better at chemistry?
Hi everyone,
I'm currently doing A levels and well I'm having a rlly serious problem that is practicals. So A levels can be modular which is that you can do half the exams an year early, and the other half in the second year. I didn't do well on chem tbh. Though it was still an A which is the highest grade at AS Level but my board makes it so your rank or percentile affects your ability to get an A* as your final A2 grade. Anything close to 93 percentile makes it so you can easily manage a 90 percentile A* in the next year. My board makes it so 23% of the grade is just practicals. Now the thing is the practicals are extremely weird bcz normally the qs' language is so weird nobody understands them. I managed to get a 23/40 on practicals which was still an A and was only given to 12% of students taking AS Level Chemistry as per the session's statistics. I don't really have practicals anymore, they're done with so idrc now but I managed to get a 95/130 (thresholds were 83/130 for an A) total this year which means I need to get about a 105/130 next year to ensure I don't miss my University offer which is likely going to be an A* for chemistry. There's alternate to practicals this year or "planning" where I just need to memorise a few pages of precautions and spit them out word to word on the paper. No biggie, I can do that easily. There's one more paper which is structured. I had structured and mcqs for year 1 too. I did well on mcqs (33/40) but kinda shit on structured (44/60), I was hoping around 50/60 but ig I made a lot of mistakes. No more mcqs in the second year so yay but the structured is now of 100 marks and covers knowledge that was required for the 60 marker one as well as 18 or so extra added chapters of inorgo and orgo chem. The parts in physical chem are well covered for me since I wasn't aware those topics were for second year so I'd done them anyways. I also just in general do better in physics and have been reading equilibrium thermodynamics by CJ Adkins and tho at some points I've wanted to bang my head against a wall I'm gaining quite a bit of knowledge about thermodynamics so.... There's electrochemistry this year which I'm covering from the Oxford Primers Electrochemistry book. I'm weak at Organic chem a bit and sometimes I make mistakes in inorganic qs where I'm asked to balance ionic eqs to make a full balanced equation with no free charges or free ions.
I'll definitely be doing more practice problems this year and am about to begin doing papers from now itself compared to last year for which I began doing papers 2 months in advance only.
I would rlly appreciate some feedback on what else I can do to make sure I don't lose my university offer for next year.
Just so I give a rundown on what topics the specification covers, I've just attached a link to the pdf which has my syllabus in it.
https://www.cambridgeinternational.org/Images/554616-2022-2024-syllabus.pdf
Thanks in advance!
Edit: I do have an option that is redoing my first year papers but I'm also redoing my maths papers bcz I messed up one module due to which I have to redo both even though I had an A in both and had a near perfect score in the other module.
Overall, if I redo the first year papers, I'll be doing 11 papers in a session I was supposed to be doing 6 papers in.
submitted by deffonotanotheralt to chemistry [link] [comments]
I'm currently doing A levels and well I'm having a rlly serious problem that is practicals. So A levels can be modular which is that you can do half the exams an year early, and the other half in the second year. I didn't do well on chem tbh. Though it was still an A which is the highest grade at AS Level but my board makes it so your rank or percentile affects your ability to get an A* as your final A2 grade. Anything close to 93 percentile makes it so you can easily manage a 90 percentile A* in the next year. My board makes it so 23% of the grade is just practicals. Now the thing is the practicals are extremely weird bcz normally the qs' language is so weird nobody understands them. I managed to get a 23/40 on practicals which was still an A and was only given to 12% of students taking AS Level Chemistry as per the session's statistics. I don't really have practicals anymore, they're done with so idrc now but I managed to get a 95/130 (thresholds were 83/130 for an A) total this year which means I need to get about a 105/130 next year to ensure I don't miss my University offer which is likely going to be an A* for chemistry. There's alternate to practicals this year or "planning" where I just need to memorise a few pages of precautions and spit them out word to word on the paper. No biggie, I can do that easily. There's one more paper which is structured. I had structured and mcqs for year 1 too. I did well on mcqs (33/40) but kinda shit on structured (44/60), I was hoping around 50/60 but ig I made a lot of mistakes. No more mcqs in the second year so yay but the structured is now of 100 marks and covers knowledge that was required for the 60 marker one as well as 18 or so extra added chapters of inorgo and orgo chem. The parts in physical chem are well covered for me since I wasn't aware those topics were for second year so I'd done them anyways. I also just in general do better in physics and have been reading equilibrium thermodynamics by CJ Adkins and tho at some points I've wanted to bang my head against a wall I'm gaining quite a bit of knowledge about thermodynamics so.... There's electrochemistry this year which I'm covering from the Oxford Primers Electrochemistry book. I'm weak at Organic chem a bit and sometimes I make mistakes in inorganic qs where I'm asked to balance ionic eqs to make a full balanced equation with no free charges or free ions.
I'll definitely be doing more practice problems this year and am about to begin doing papers from now itself compared to last year for which I began doing papers 2 months in advance only.
I would rlly appreciate some feedback on what else I can do to make sure I don't lose my university offer for next year.
Just so I give a rundown on what topics the specification covers, I've just attached a link to the pdf which has my syllabus in it.
https://www.cambridgeinternational.org/Images/554616-2022-2024-syllabus.pdf
Thanks in advance!
Edit: I do have an option that is redoing my first year papers but I'm also redoing my maths papers bcz I messed up one module due to which I have to redo both even though I had an A in both and had a near perfect score in the other module.
Overall, if I redo the first year papers, I'll be doing 11 papers in a session I was supposed to be doing 6 papers in.
2023.06.09 06:23 A_Vespertine Behold, A Man
The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
submitted by A_Vespertine to scarystories [link] [comments]
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
2023.06.09 06:23 A_Vespertine Behold, A Man
The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
submitted by A_Vespertine to DarkTales [link] [comments]
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
2023.06.09 06:22 A_Vespertine Behold, A Man
The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
submitted by A_Vespertine to stayawake [link] [comments]
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.