We once fought alongside humans. Hard to admit, but often primitive civiliazations are needed to fight off common enemies with affordable losses. It is a bad feeling to have. We are among the most ancient of galactic civilizations, we are supposed to be able to protect the Galaxy from all threats and yet once again our simulations shows that we can do nothing alone and once again we have to push our burden on youngsters, who are barely aware of the dangers awaiting them far beyond their understanding.

And yet we work hard to esure that as much of our allies as possible will return to their broods and live the rest of their life in comfort of families and friends. Our medics - can restore fallen humans with the help of our specialized implants and artificial organs. It's not a pinacle of our technologies and it is sad that we have to use the simplest of approaches on our allies. But simulations show, that allowing them full access - is a risk factor too great. So we stick to a disposable and expandable tools, that won't allow primitive civilization to reverse-engineer them.

Yet now we meet a human, long descendant of one we fought alongside. And their body is full of things, that were supposed to be disposed of long-long time ago. Mixed with crude human machines - they have lost most of their potential, but are still working and passed among generations, adapted, reused, reimplanted and fixed over and over. Humans still don't know how to replicate them and it drives their scientists mad. Meanwhile humans, who's ancestors had it once - made them a form of family treasure, that functions at 10% of it's original power, but functions still.

Like our royal clans pass their royal blood - humans pass what was naturally meant to be just a first-aid tool. It is hard to tell if it is impressive or gross. Maybe a bit of both.

Unlike other species, the humans don’t seem to care for how an objective is achieved. They simply look for the quickest method with the lowest effort. No grace, no poise, total disregard for aesthetics or ritual or tradition… those don’t matter to them. They are entirely secondary considerations at best. And while it’s entirely barbaric, it’s hard to argue with results…

“Oscar, it’s 0237! Why are you calling me?!”

“Commander, have I ever called you in the middle of the night?”

“Right, right. What happened?”

“We figured out those random thefts, and we have a HUGE problem.”

“What did the Terrans manage to build?”

“It’s not Terrans. High Command verified that this planet was uninhabited, yes?”

“Oh course. Standard practice.”

“They missed something. I’ve sent you footage of the…creatures that are stealing from the farm.”

“Oscar, did you say ‘creatures?’ What creatures.”

“Actually sir, I was really hoping you could help with that. We can’t identify it.”

The Commander stopped, datapad half raised. “By very clear, Oscar. You have footage of an entity that you cannot identify?”

“Correct, sir.”

The Commander activated the datapad, watched the video, and groaned.

“Oscar, encrypt this communication. Now.”

“Encrypted, sir.”

“We have encountered this species before. It isn’t listed in the records. It’s a scavenger species. We aren’t sure of their original home, but they start from rather small eggs. Someone has violated quarantine screening and decontamination procedures. They breed quickly. I have no idea what they are doing with what they stole.”

“Ah. We know that one. They have built a shelter. We tracked the one in the video. They used the containers to make a shelter, the rubbish for what appear to be nests, the engine from the truck for heat, and the filters to filter the water. They are way up on the side of mountain AA567. The water up there is toxic.”

“Oscar, that sounds like planning and problem solving.”

“I would agree. What is our best move?”

“Oscar, I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but I need Vera to annihilate that shelter. To be clear, I want that shelter gone. I want the area for two kilometers around the shelter totally glassed.”

“To be clear, Commander. You want me to order Terran Marines to glass four square kilometers?”

“Correct.”

“Air strike only?”

“Yes.”

“Yes sir. I’ll let you know why it’s done.”

“Oscar, I’d imagine the entire planet will know when it’s done.”

Four hours later, Oscar sat down in the Commander’s office.

“I imagine that you heard that?”

“Yes, Oscar. And felt it. What did they use?”

“They modified a beehive round. One of booster plasma versions.”

“When did they make those?”

“No clue sir. No clue. Now, please help me understand what just happened.”

“Before I was even born, one of our scout ships managed to get infected by those things. It was our first known encounter. Assuming that those things were sentient, we set up a research lab to learn about them and to communicate with them. It didn’t work. At first they seemed curious and calm. Then, after a couple of weeks, those things suddenly attacked.”

“I’m guessing it went badly.”

“The report I read before taking this command said that they took over the entire research station in 11 hours. No survivors. We monitored the station for a few weeks, and we saw that they were expanding and starting to learn how to use our technology. We remote detonated the fusion cores.”

“That explains things, sir. I’m concerned about how they got here.”

“Sadly, we will need to do some serious deep scans to ensure we got all of them.”

“I assume you will handle that?”

“Yes, Oscar. You don’t know how to detect them.”

“How can we assist?”

“I’ll let you know. At the moment, keep this quiet.”

“Right. Before you ask, the video was on a closed system. All copies were wiped. As were the targeting details.”

“Good call. Now, is there anything else to report?”

“Not much. Sparky isn’t ready to test. The Aussies haven’t managed to repair their system enough to do anything. Clearly the marines have been busy on weapons development. Oh. I have been moving the uranium to one of the orbiting stations. Harder for the marines to steal.”

“I had a strange report. Let me see. Oscar, what is a dune buggy? We caught sight of something driving around out in the hinterland on an island not far from the Aussie volcano. We asked a Terran tech, and she said it was a dune buggy.”

Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you happen to have pictures?”

Oscar reviewed the pictures.

“Well Commander, we have some new issues. That is a highly modified ground transport vehicle. It is over-powered, highly mobile, likely amphibious, and designed for long-range travel. I’m guessing that some Aussies built it and went to the island for some hunting, fishing, and camping.”

“Why is this an issue?”

“This means some of the Aussies have gotten bored enough to start going camping. If some of them are that bored, that means some of the bored ones will likely be up to something even more insane.”

“Oscar, help me understand. What is camping?”

“It’s a Terran recreation activity. We pack up some tents, sleeping materials, food, and other supplies. Then we go out into the woods or other wilderness, and set up camp. We hunt, fish, explore, and cook over fires.”

“They leave perfectly modern housing to intentionally live in a primitive fashion?”

“Yep. It’s a great deal of fun.”

“The Terran concept of ‘fun’ was one of hardest words for our translators to comprehend. For a very long time it was translated as ‘insane activities’ or ‘highly-dangerous actions likely to result in serious injuries.’ Sadly, the first Terrans who learned this actively allowed the confusion to continue.”

“Let me guess, sir. They did it for fun.”

“Correct. Do me a favor, collect the camping Aussies, and return them to their colony. Let me know when Sparky is going to be the next disaster.”

One of the major parts of human dyplomacy is their approach to alien traditions. They may not have the cultural or anatomical background to fulfill it properly but they can adapt and adore it anyway.

Fox example: Veils, the neuroparasitic spiders - have a form of traditional religious cloaks made of their silk that cover their main body and protect their host. Electric impulses they run through the silk - makes it change color. The coloration change itself - is a form of lower language Veil commoners speak. And maintaining a steady color - is a sign of clear and calm mind.

But when first veil pilgrims arrived to human space - they showed their other side of natural party animals. The colors and patterns their cloaks presented that day - inspired human designers. And so when veils arrived again next cycle - they were greated by humans wesring colors that screamed with promices of fun and friendship. And fun and friendship they got.

Or other case - Kricki, the bird people. Most know them as devoted freedom fighters and, honestly - crazy militarists. But humans got to their other side of being loving parents and fearsome family protectors. Upon their traditions - their nests are built of two big rings, made of thin metal strings. The designs and patterns of those rings - are unique and each is made my one of the parents.

Humans don't need nests and don't lay eggs, so they had no deal with this tradition, until one of Kricki males - got into relationships with human woman and ended up building a real family. How they managed to make a child together - is between them and whatever biosculpturs they dealt with. What is important is instead of the nest - two nest rings were put around woman's belt on her hips, therefore supporting her pregnant belly. The fashion itself - looked so cute, that many humans accepted this approach as one of many human courtship traditions, the one that got them closer with the brave avians.

In short - humans always look for inspiration in alien cultures. What can seem exotic at first - always find a place in some human hearts and minds. Both enriching their own culture and easing xeno-dyplomacy in general.

Oscar was sitting at his desk when the Terran Marine Captain entered.

“Close the door, please, Sue. Now. What is this?”

“Chief, it the eyes-only message I got from Sol Command right after our mission. It came through highly-encrypted, only on paper. I’ve never seen that system actually used.”

“It’s very rare, Sue. And it’s never good.”

“I didn’t read it, Chief. Not past the first few lines. What does it say?”

“Captain, it says that we are in deep shit. Very deep shit. That target? It was a hybrid species a rogue group of Terrans created about 200 years ago. Details are scarce, but apparently this rebel group left Sol and basically vanished. From what records were recovered after their illegal operation was destroyed, they were attempting to make some sort of super Terran. All specimens were destroyed. Or, as we now know, thought to be destroyed.”

“Fuck me, Chief.”

“I’d rather not Sue. However, this report is ordering us to learn as much as we can about the escaped hybrid—without notifying High Command. Captain, I’ve never liked espionage, and this goes a few steps beyond simple espionage.”

“What is your plan, Chief?”

“I don’t have one. Not yet. By the way, you tell anyone about this, and you will be shot.”

“Understood, Chief. I’d rather not even know this.”

“Agreed. So. The first thing we do is look up the origins of those containers.”

“What about Sparky?”

“Sparky? What about it?”

“What if the hybrid was from Sparky?”

“That…would be…very bad. Very bad.”

“Agreed, Chief, but isn’t it possible?”

“Here is what you are going to do. You are going to take Vera out to Sparky. Say you are testing some mundane system. Some sort of navigation. While you are there, scan Sparky. Use a green-filtered spectral scan. If there are hybrids, they will show up purple. No recordings. No records. You run the scan, alone, from the maintenance bay. Put the scanner into maintenance by-pass mode. Pull the on-system memory module before you even turn it on.”

“Is it that bad, Chief?”

“Likely worse. When you are done, report to me.”

When it comes to humanity, they often jump into science with their health and safety being the last consideration.

Becoming strong - has its cons. At some point starting a war with all you have - is a guaranteed way to destroy not only yourself, but many people around you, that were not involved and don't even know of your existence. On the scale of the Galaxy - it is a risk simply no one can afford. And strongest members of Galactic Community strictly control it, by irradicating those, who refuse to follow the rules. The punishment for breaking the code is harsh and is fully justifiable by the Community, no one will mourn interstellar criminals and their species.

But wars will be fought anyway. That's why Galactic Community introduced the Knight Registration Protocols. The basic idea that members of different species, can register a limited number of individuals and concentrate their whole scientific power and military economy on them to create the ultimate supersoilders, who alone will work for their whole army in the global conflicts. It is important to note that they are not the only ones, who are allowed to fight. Only that they are the only ones who are allowed to fight with no restrictions. When the Knight is involved - it means that conflict could not be resolved by shadowy wars or negotiations and two sides are really at war.

But Knights themselves are not only representing how many advancements can one civilization attach to one mind. They also represent their moral codes, their compassion and cruelty, their values and their readiness. For that - they must constantly remind everyone of what they are. And there's no easier ways to do that than Titles. The proofs of great deeds that hold in both merits, ranks and history that a Knight have witnessed. And do they serious about their titles.

Titles are a way to show other Knights that you are worth fighting. As well as worth sparing if you fail, as with you - a whole baggage of history and advancements may disappear. Galaxy has enough Knights who's civilizations are already gone or nearly destroyed and their importance, supported by their titles - is the only thing that keeps them alive and proofs them respect from their colleagues. Some take them more serious, some less, but the traditions are ongoing.

Humans, though, had a problem with that. Very soon after their introduction to the Community - they were found to be dangerously close to the discovery of technologies that shouldn't be used in global conflicts. Young species had to either be destroyed for the safety of all, allow strict control over themselves or introduce their own Knights. The problem with the latest was that humans just simply weren't famous enough. Their developments and advancements - were too miniscule conpared to rheir discoveries and their territory was tiny. Their newly founded Knights just had nowhere to gain their fame. And therefore they couldn't really prove that they were indeed Knights. And registering their Knights on a public tournaments is a procedure that required too much time.

So humans came up with a plan. For everyone to hear of their Knights - they needed to make them as loud as possible. All human factions - invested their military budgets in all forms of festivals, fairs, carnivals and other activities to attract Knights and tourist and demonstrate capabilities of their Knights in front of everyone. Showing how good they were at tactical games, tests of endurance and self-preservation amd how fancy they were in anime fights. And more importantly, how better they were than alien Knights, who had to admit their achievements, according to the code of honor.

Before starting a duel or a fight - Knights usually introduce themselves both to show off and register the fight officially. Roars of weapons and explosions of ships on the background bothers them little. They announce their titles openly and proudly, patiently listen for their opponent's name and expect them to do the same. Usually - their titles include words like "protector of the realm" or "destoryer of monsters" or "champion of freedom." But with the same respect they will listen to human titles. Even though they may include words like "Lifter of the schoolbusses", "Great bowling striker" or "Devouer of shrimps". After all - no other Knight could really eat more shrimps that day. And they even had a drink!

"A dreadnought? One battleship against several? They're insane, we have to retreat-"

"There's a reason why the damn T'Chak call them dreadnoughts and not battleships."

"Coming from the ones who invented that classification...? Fine, but if we die I'm blaming you in the afterlife for the deaths of me and my sailors."

"We just need to survive the onslaught for five more minutes."

A crackling voice from my personal communicator  cut through the quiet hum of the ship. 

“\[•၊l|l၊••၊|။l|l။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•\], please report to the cargo bay. Your assistance is needed.” 

I couldn't help but groan. 

I didn't usually get much work around the cargo bay, but when I did, it was never for anything simple. 

And today didn't prove to be any different.

I looked at the chaotic mess before me. 

A bunch of crates had toppled over, and the cargo had spilled out of the crates, crushing a number of loading robots underneath. 

Apparently we had been transporting a bunch of new stasis tanks and miscellaneous medical equipment to some research station in the middle of nowhere.

And of course, few of the tanks had cracked, leading to glass shards spilling all over the bay floor. 

I really didn't get paid enough for this…. 

The cargo crew had already started to clean up, so after assessing the situation, I began disassembling the damaged machinery. 

“I don't suppose putting them in rice is going to salvage those” a sharp human voice joked from behind me. 

I turned my head towards the source. “You here to work or just provide commentary?”

“Hey, who says a woman can't do both?” Came the snark retort, followed by a light chuckle. 

The day had been exhausting. As soon as I reached my dorm, I simply crashed on my bed and fell to sleep. 

By the next morning, the ship had reached the station and docked on the port. 

The ship comms crackled to life

“All personnel currently available and not busy with any tasks, please assist with unloading the cargo.”

Of course…. With some of the machinery out of commission after yesterday's incident, the cargo and logistics teams were severely shortstaffed.

I rubbed my eyes and dragged myself to the cargo bay. 

I started assisting with moving the cargo out of the ship. 

Once I had gotten out of the ship and onto the station, the supervisor waved me over. A familiar human with coiled hair and eyes nearly as dark as the void itself stood beside him. 

“Oh hey, you're maintenance right? Could you follow Nova and assist her with transporting and installing some of the tanks we shipped? You two just follow that doctor over there and follow his instructions. 

We walked through the corridors until we finally reached a room. 

“Okay, just install them here. The exact placements have been marked with tape.” the doctor said. 

“Power coupling?” Nova asked.

The doctor gestured toward a wall panel already half-open. “Standard interface, as far as I'm aware.”

Within minutes, she had the first tank connected. Pipes and power lines were secured, diagnostic lights flickered to life in a soft sequence of blues and greens. She watched the readings stabilize, then moved on without comment.

Before long, she was finished with the installations. 

She dusted off her overalls, and picked up her tool box. 

Nova looked at the stasis tanks, and then the doctor in the lab coat. 

“So… what exactly are you researching here?” 

“Geroscience and longevity. We're trying to find a way to extend the human lifespan to something closer to ours.”

The doctor answered enthusiastically. 

I felt a dim flicker of something almost close to hope, like a spark in the darkness. 

Extend human lifespan… and not just by years or decades, but to something similar to ours. They could become like us. 

If only it had been possible back then… 

I glanced at Nova. 

She shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes flicked over the empty tanks, her expression tightening instead of brightening. “Closer to yours…?” she repeated, a hint of unease creeping into her voice, though I couldn't understand why.

The doctor didn't seem to notice. 

“Yes, well the technology is still in the beginning phases, but give it a century or two and the results will speak for themselves. Our experiments are already showing promise.”

Nova's eyes narrowed

"What kind of experiments exactly?"

 "Oh many kinds. Cellular regeneration tests, terminal disease treatment trials, genetic modification, neural integration mapping…” he then gestures towards the stasis tanks “...and of course, perfluorocarbon stasis.”

“I think… I’ve heard enough.” Without another word, Nova turned toward the door and grabbed me to follow her. 

“You seem… unsettled. Why?” I asked her, genuinely confused, after we had gotten far enough from the door to the hallway. 

She finally slowed down a bit, looked at me, and then sighed. 

“The experiments he mentioned – cellular regeneration, genetic modification, the stasis tanks… He didn’t give details, but I’m not convinced they’re ethical. There are too many ways to cross lines on studies like these. 

Besides… it's not natural for humans to live as long as you do. Our minds aren’t built for it. Live that long, and existence becomes a prison. And even if we stayed sane, would we still be human?”

As we turned a corner, we saw a human child being led into a room by a group of researchers.

Nova slowed her pace, her footsteps growing softer and more controlled. She then motioned at me to follow her lead.

The room was filled with stasis tanks, most of these ones in use. 

The researchers had lifted the human into a tank, that was now being filled with what I presumed to be 

perfluorocarbon. 

The child cried and screamed and banged on the glass, as the liquid slowly rose up to his neck

For the first time I saw it. The pure unadulterated hatred burning in her eyes, raging like a wildfire, about to consume and destroy everything in its path.

She took a large wrench, ran forward, and with a wide swing, shattered the glass. The liquid spilled on the floor. 

The kid fell to the floor coughing.

The researchers stumbled back. One knocked over a tray of instruments. Another pressed himself flat against the wall, too shocked to speak.

Nova grabbed the nearest one by the collar of his coat. “How do you open the tanks?”

He stared at her blankly

She tightened her grip. “ANSWER!”

He pointed to a large yellow button on the far wall.

She shoved him down and ran to the button and slammed it with force. 

The tanks all drained at once and then opened with a hiss. The humans stepped out, coughing and trembling.

Nova shot a glare towards the researchers

“Give me your coats” 

“W-what?” one of them stuttered 

“Coats! Now!” She demanded

With bewildered expressions they took off their lab coats and awkwardly held them out as far from their bodies as their limbs would allow.

Nova yanked the coats from their grasps and handed them to the shivering humans, along with her own work uniform jacket. 

“Anyone who wants to leave is free to follow us.” 

The humans glanced around for a bit, seeming slightly unsure, but gathered around her anyway. 

Soon after we had stepped out to the corridors, the lights turned red, the doors started closing, and a low humming sound played through the station. 

“Shit.” Nova cursed and grit her teeth, recognizing the emergency lockdown. “I should've knocked those damn quacks out while I had the chance.”

She bolted for the nearest door, stopping it from closing entirely, and we all ran inside. 

Looking around the space, it seemed almost like a human hospital room. The stench of rubbing alcohol brought back memories that ached like old wounds and made me feel nauseous. 

A sudden cough from behind a white curtain in the room startled me, snapping me back to the present. 

I pulled it back, and behind laid yet another human, strapped to a bed. His arms were riddled with scars and needle marks. 

for a moment, we both just stared at each other in stunned silence.

Nova stepped beside me and I finally managed to regain my composure. I reached over and undid his restraints. 

He sat up, still keeping a cautious eye on us. 

After a while of awkward silence, he finally broke it by with a barely audible mutter. “thanks”

I just nodded in acknowledgement, not sure what to say in the moment. 

Nova had picked up a folder from the table next to her. She read out the title in hushed horror. 

“regeneration experiments”

I peered over her as she opened it and flipped through the notes. It was pages upon pages of notes and pictures of the doctors cutting into the human with various instruments, injecting different drugs, and timing how long it took for him to heal.

The human on the bed coughed, but this time it sounded more like an attempt at getting our attention than a genuine cough. 

He glanced at us, and then the at the folder in Nova’s hands. 

“You know,” he said with a dry voice, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand up, “I’m pretty sure reading someone's medical files without their consent is a massive violation of confidentiality and privacy laws.”

Nova blinked, her fierce scowl faltering for a split second before she let out a short, incredulous breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “Is that so? Well, do pardon me. “

She snapped the folder closed and handed it to the human. 

The human accepted the folder, but didn't break eye contact. He glanced at the damp group of escapees in hospital gowns and oversized lab coats that were obviously not designed for humans, then back at us.

“So…. What brings you here? I wasn't exactly expecting visitors. And aside from the ones behind you, you two don't seem like test subjects or researchers.”

"We're crew on a ship docked at the station. Came to deliver equipment." Nova explained. 

The human tilted his head

“And you decided to deliver a bunch of people off the station as well while you were at it?”

“What can I say? We like to offer a full-service package. You're welcome to join us if you want.”

“From the looks and sound of it, you managed to put the entire station into lockdown. What exactly is your plan here?”

“It was a spur of the moment decision, ok? The plan is to act first and figure things out as we go.”

Nova groaned in irritation as she tried to pry open the door that wouldn't budge. 

She tried to force it open with brute strength, then with her wrench as a makeshift crowbar, and eventually resorted to attempting to use an IV stand to get more torque. The door however showed no signs of yielding. She resigned with a tired sigh. “Great…. Well I'm out of ideas. Now what?”

One of the humans glanced around nervously for a bit before deciding to walk up to Nova. He pulled her sleeve to get her attention. 

“The fire alarm overrides lockdowns. In the case of a fire, every door on the station automatically opens and all bays are cleared for takeoff” he muttered. 

Nova's eyes lit up, a plan, or at least an idea, forming in her head. 

Her eyes scanned the room, and landed on the supply closet in the corner. She rummaged through it, and from within, pulled a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. 

She dumped the contents of the bottle into a trash can nearby, that had already been filled with tissue paper.  

She then took a piece of paper, reached to her tool belt and pulled out her portable USB soldering iron. 

She proceeded to ignite the piece of paper and dropped it into the bin.  

A brief flash of blue fire transformed into tall yellow flames that rose up towards the ceiling. 

The fire alarms blared to life with a loud ring. The lights turned back to white and the doors all opened in an instant. Strips of white lights showed the paths to the emergency exits. 

Crowds of researchers started flooding the hallways, all running towards the nearest escape shuttles. 

Soon after, some human subjects wandered into the hallways as well, but unlike the researchers, they didn't seem to know what to do or where to go. 

Our group split up for a moment to convince the remaining humans to follow us. 

Suddenly, both Nova and I received pings on our personal devices. I grabbed mine from my belt and read the message out loud. 

"All crew return to the ship immediately. Due to the fire alarm, we'll be evacuating and departing the station in 5 minutes.”

In the midst of the chaos, one of the humans turned back towards the room with the fire.

He grabbed as many bottles of rubbing alcohol as he managed, kicked down the trash can, and started to spread the fire. 

“What are you doing??!!” Nova shouted

“If we left it as it is, the fire would die down in the matter of minutes! The moment the fire stops, so does the fire alarm, and the station locks down once again!” the human answered 

“We don't need the fire to last! we'll be out before it dies down. Now come on, we need to keep going!”

“And then what? The researchers come back, get new lab rats, and the experiments keep going. This all needs to disappear. I've lived longer than I was meant to anyway. At least now, I get to choose how it all ends.”

The human ran towards the direction of the station core, pouring a line of alcohol behind him, blue flames following in his wake. 

Nova looked like she wanted to run after him, to drag him along by force if she had to, but I grabbed her by the arm before she could. 

"We have to go, now! We have no time for this.”

Our entourage reached the ship just in time. 

Once we had all gotten in, the ship departed the station. 

We watched in silence as the station grew smaller behind us. 

Nearly the moment we had gotten far enough, the station exploded, for a moment resembling a sparkling star. 

Despite the tragedy of it all, there was an odd beauty to it. 

A brief brilliant light, soon swallowed by the void.

A chaotic, violent ball of fire that made my heart race, yet I couldn't divert my eyes away. 

Finally I understood. Maybe that was what made humans so special. What made them so… impossibly human. 

And although it was only for a fleeting moment, I was glad to have witnessed that sparkling light after all. 

previous

#11 - THE HEAT IS ON!

Species: Jellychilishrimps

Humans live faster lives than most. Their time runs out like a candle with two wicks. And they age so... Visibly. You can see them losing their strength and colours as their hair turns ashen gray and white. But that is also what makes them so brilliant.

They are the brightest flame, consuming their wick the fastest. While they might not live as long as we do, within their short existence, they bring the most light and warmth to this cold space. And, like bright fire tends to do, when mishandled or carelessly roused, destruction.

I was still a young trainee, around 207 solar years old, when our crew got our first human worker.

I had not yet learned much about humans, but I was curious and excited about meeting them. After all, it wasn't every day you got to meet a new species.

First contact with humanity had occurred mere months earlier, and we were among the first fleets to employ their species.

Much about them was still unknown and shrouded in mystery, and vast majority of the little information available, hearsay and rumours.

Understandably, no new species wants to openly give all their information to the wider galaxy they have yet to know and experience.

It usually took decades or even centuries to get just the basic information of a species' biology recorded. It was honestly impressive how trusting humanity was, already sending their own to work on ships owned by other species, nearly immediately after first contact. Their adaptability speed must have broken records.

His hair was the colour of burnt copper, and eyes turquoise blue like the ocean planet of Verais 7, while his pink skin was filled with small copper brown dots.

He bared his teeth with the energy of a blazing sun. We had been briefed about some of their body language observed during first contact, such as this "smile" of theirs, that was meant to signal joy. It was quite an odd gesture to see in person. On most species with teeth, showing them would have seemed aggressive, but for some reason, when he did it, it felt almost warm.

He straightened his back as he addressed the crew in an enthusiastic voice

"Pleasure to meet y'all. I'm Alex, the new maintenance technician. I have much to learn, but am looking forward to working with everyone!"

“my name is \[•၊l|l၊••၊|။l|l။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•\]. I'll be working with you starting today. Let us get along.”

“Thanks buddy, likewise.” He nodded quickly, and then rubbed the back of his head for a moment. “Uhh… sorry though, I don't think my tongue bends in ways that would allow me to even attempt that. Can I just, like, call you by a nickname or something?”

“A nickname?”

“You know, like a name people call you that isn't your real one.”

“Feel free then.”

“Hmmm… I feel like ET would be a bit too on-the-nose… How ‘bout Cosmo??”

“Cosmo it is, then.”

As fate would have it, we ended up becoming cabin mates.

He seemed to learn faster than anyone I had ever seen before. Not only did he memorize new information at incredible speeds, he also quickly started to apply what he had learned in new ways he hadn't been taught. In the evenings, he could be seen experimenting with various chemicals and materials, trying out the seemingly endless stream of ideas he came up with, his eyes burning with passion.

I often found myself watching him from my bunk as he worked at our shared desk, scraps of metal and wires scattered around him like a nest. He would hum to himself in his alien way, low melancholy tunes and melodies, tinkering with his tools to the rhythm. Sometimes, he looked up and caught me staring, and he would bare his teeth again in that strange, warm way — and I found myself mimicking it, though I have no teeth to show. It made him laugh every time.

He asked questions constantly. Why our ship’s walls were curved instead of angular. Why we used saltwater in the cooling system instead of ammonia. Why the corridor lights flickered for a moment whenever the engines transitioned into or out of FTL. No detail escaped him. Sometimes he would even crawl into the ducts to see for himself how things worked. More than once, I had to pull him back out by his boots, his hair full of dust and his grin bright as ever.

For a while, life settled into a steady hum. Work, repairs, fuel stops. Shared meals where he insisted on swapping bites of carefully chosen food, ensuring I could taste alien flavors safe for my species. Nights stretched long as he stayed up late, sketching intricate diagrams on scraps of paper or building tiny machines from spare parts, humming softly as the lights of distant stars flickered through our porthole.

“Do you know what I miss most about earth?” Alex asked one evening while gazing out into the vast expanse.

“Seasons. Real day/night cycles. Sun rising and setting beyond the horizon. Just the feeling of time passing. Here, it often just tends to… Blend together, ya know?”

“I don't quite, actually.” I replied. “We have clocks and calendars. They're not all that hard to follow.”

“Yes. But they're all so artificial. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether it's been 10 minutes, hours or weeks…. I'm not quite sure how to explain it… It's like time just stopped, but also ran through my grasp like sand at the same time.”

"Do you regret coming?" I asked.

His laugh was sudden and bright. "Hell no! Are you kidding? I get to see space. Real, actual space. Stars and nebulas and-" He gestured wildly at our small porthole. "Do you know how many humans would kill for this opportunity?"

"Then why speak of missing things?"

He was quiet for a moment, his smile softening into something more contemplative. "I guess... you can be grateful for where you are and still miss where you've been. It's not either-or.”

It was a night like any other, our shift had just ended, and we were eating and chatting in the mess hall. The ship had slowed down to a drift for a while to cool down the warp engines from continuous FTL travel.

Alex was looking at the swirling nebulae passing by through the large windows spanning the entire wall behind me.

“Ship to the spaceman! Your food is getting cold”, I said to the technician entirely engrossed in staring at the swirling clouds of gases and dust

“Hm?” Alex blinked, pulled back from whatever thoughts had captured him. "Oh. Right. Sorry. In my defense, I doubt the temperature really makes a difference in how appetizing the slop that counts as ‘food’ here is.”

“It's confirmed to be edible and safe for humans. Not to mention very nutritious.”

"Everything terrible is always 'very nutritious.'" He said, as he scooped up a spoonful in resigned acceptance.

His face scrunched up as the utensil reached his mouth. “Okay, you were right about the temperature. It's somehow so much worse when cold.”

He gestured behind me with the spoon “That view though… it makes even the bland cafeteria food worth it.”

I sighed. “I have seen hundreds of nebulae. They're nice to look at, sure, but hardly something to make such a fuss over.”

He let out an exasperated groan. “You are exhausting, you know that? What, are your species incapable of feeling awe and wonder or something?”

“I will have you know I am plenty capable of-”

Suddenly Alex let out a loud gasp, and his utensil clattered against the tray. He was completely frozen, staring out the window.

I followed his gaze and turned to see what he was looking at.

Massive, winged, bioluminescent forms glided through the void of space next to our ship, just outside the glass.

Their wings, or maybe fins, rippled with patterns of light that shifted through colors I couldn't find words to fully describe. Vibrant cyans shifting to blues, and pinks bleeding into neon violets like watercolor on paper. They moved with a grace that seemed to mock physics, their massive bodies navigating the vacuum as easily as fish swimming in the water.

The mess hall had gone completely silent.

Even crew members who had been deep in conversation stopped mid-sentence. Trays forgotten, meals growing cold, everyone simply stared.

"What..." Alex's voice was barely a whisper. "What are they?”

“Star-rays.”

The only species known to have achieved spaceflight through biological evolution alone. They travel from planet to planet, and dive through nebulas as if they were simply ocean waves.

Seeing them was said to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, even for the longest living of species.

“How can they survive out there?”

“If I remember correctly, they breathe hydrogen, and store compressed filtered atmosphere in specialized organs and muscle and blood. They have incredibly slow heart rate and can control blood flow to specific organs. Their skin is highly radiation and temperature resistant, and they can enter long periods of suspended animation.”

One passed by mere meters from the ship shields.

It must have been at least four hundred meters across, maybe more. Its body was almost translucent in places, as if the creature was made partially of the void itself.

“Nobody knows exactly where they're originally from, but scientists had theorized they originated from a low gravity planet, aiding their evolutionary path to space.”

No matter how I tried, I don't think my words could capture or explain a fraction of the magnitude of what we were witnessing.

“It's debated whether they should be considered sapient," I continued anyway, trying to make sense of it all myself as I explained what little I knew. "Some say any species capable of reaching space, regardless of the method, should be classified as sapient, others argue their intelligence, which is still unknown, should be considered for that judgement.”

“So, how about you?” Alex asked “What do you think? Whether or not they're sapient, I mean.”

I went silent for a moment, before answering:

“I think… it doesn't matter either way. Their very existence is something unique. Something that wakes awe that words can't describe.”

Many myths are told about them. Some say the first spacefarers used them as guides, following them through the uncharted space. And many believe them to be the first species to have reached space in the first place. They were believed to bring solace to the lonely, and guide the lost to home. Some reports even stated they led rescuers to damaged ships in the vast vacuum of space, earning them nicknames such as void guides and guardians of the lost. Catching even a glimpse of one was believed to be a good omen.

Unlike many of the ship crew, I wasn't really the superstitious sort, but seeing with my own eyes, I could understand why the stories persisted.

We watched until the star rays disappeared into the distance, their light fading like dreams at waking.

One lingered for a bit longer, circling the ship as if inviting us to join them, before finally following the others.

Then, it was gone.

The mess hall stayed quiet for a long moment after. Then, slowly, the spell broke. Crew members began to move again, to speak, although quieter than before. Some rushed to check if the sensors had recorded anything. Others simply returned to their meals, though I noticed many of them kept glancing back at the window.

Time flew by, and the days settled back into a quiet routine.

I watched as Alex struck a match, and placed it on top of a pastry he had brought from the mess hall, and then blew out the flame right after.

“what are you doing?” I asked

“A birthday cake.” Alex replied, as if it were obvious “It's my birthday today.”

“Birthday?”

“Literally the day of my birth.” he explained “Well, I mean the date… July 23rd. Not that I was literally born today. I lived through yet another cycle of our sun. On Earth, we usually celebrate this with cake and gifts and songs. …Well, at least where I'm from. I hear the traditional cuisine can vary by locality. ”

“So what does this have to do with setting the pastry on fire and extinguishing it?”

He shrugged, “It's just a tradition. Usually we use candles though, but for now a match is a good enough substitute. We blow out the flame and wish for something, and according to superstition, the wish is supposed to come true.”

“What did you wish for?”

“I can't tell you, or it won't come true.” he smirked, and then bit into the pastry.

In only five years, Alex had become an indispensable part of the group.

If something critical needed doing, or if someone needed assistance, Alex would be there. If something broke, he’d fix it, often before anyone even noticed it was broken. He’d figured out ways to recycle materials and resources that would have otherwise gone to waste, and practically turned his side of the cabin into his own personal workshop.

But somewhere in those five years, though I barely noticed it happening, small things began to change.

Faint lines started to be visible around the corners of his eyes.

He decided to try growing hair on his face, first just around his lips, then the rest of his lower face as well.

One evening, we had docked on a large station for trade and resupply reasons. We had gotten leave in the evenings during our stay, so we could explore the station and buy what we wanted for ourselves.

The market was bustling as they tend to be.

Vendors from hundreds of species sold wares of their homeworlds, yelling over each other in languages and ways so varied that the translation devices gave up trying to decipher any of it.

There, Alex first met Zara, a human mercenary guard searching for employment.

They seemed to get along almost immediately. I wondered whether it was because they were both human, that they could connect so easily.

When they exchanged contact information, for a moment, I saw a spark of something I hadn't seen before in his eyes, and every now and then I could swear he turned ever so slightly redder in colour.

After a few weeks, it was time for our vessel to leave again.

Alex wanted to say his farewells to Zara before our departure, but unfortunately we couldn't find her anywhere, and she wasn't responding to his messages.

“She must be busy.” I said. “Nothing that can be done about it.”

“I know. It's just a pity we couldn’t say our goodbyes in person before leaving.”

As we boarded the ship, Alex looked back towards the station one last time, as if hoping for some sort of sign or a miracle. But, unfortunately, miracles rarely occurred in reality.

After a quiet sigh, he turned towards the ship, and we finally stepped inside.

We went to our cabin to rest for a bit before the ship would depart and our shift would start. I couldn't help but notice him glancing towards his tablet. He really was as subtle as a hull breach alarm.

A sudden announcement crackled through the intercom. “All available personnel, please gather at the main lounge.”

The crew murmured quietly while drifting in. Nobody seemed quite sure what this was all about.

The captain slapped their tentacles together and the room quieted.

“We have a new crew member I’d like to introduce to you all.” they announced.

A side door hissed open, and a human stepped in.

Alex’s eyes grew wide, and my antennae twitched in surprise.

“This is Zara Begović. A human mercenary. She’ll be joining our security detail”

Against all odds, a small miracle had occurred after all.

Over time, Alex and Zara grew increasingly closer, and started officially dating.

Eventually, the two got married. A human ceremony and contract declaring their willingness to be a mated pair for life. Although, from what I heard, the contract could often be dissolved.

After ten years, Zara's contract with our ship had reached its end, and she had decided to return to earth.

Alex hugged her tight.

“I wish you could stay longer.”

“Me too, but we both know it's not a good idea for me to renew the contract now.” She answered

“I know. I just….” he sighed “I'll miss you.”

“Me too. But we can video chat every evening. And you can visit whenever you get vacations.” She kissed him on the cheek. ”We'll be waiting for you on earth.”

It had been 40 years since I had first met Alex, and it all felt like it had gone in the blink of an eye. His hair had started to fade, and many strands, both on his head and face, had started to turn gray. The lines on his face had deepened, and I could almost swear he had gotten slightly shorter.

Tonight was the night he was retiring.

“Do visit me on earth sometime.” He said, his voice warm and smile bright as always. “I'll introduce you to the best spots I know in town, and drink till the sun sets.”

I chuckled, imagining the two of us wandering crowded streets, sampling every little café and bar he claimed was the best. “I’ll hold you to that then. I'll definitely visit whenever the ship has business in the Sol system.”

20 years had passed since I last met Alex. I had become a fully fledged maintenance technician since his departure. And finally, our ship had returned to Sol once again. I couldn't wait to catch up with him, chatting about all the stories and experiences we'd had while apart.

I looked at the address he had once messaged me.

I knocked on the door. The person who opened looked much like Alex, but shorter, and from what I understood about humans, this one was female.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I'm \[•၊l|l၊••၊|။l|l။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•\] , though you may call me Cosmo if you please. Pleasure to meet you. Do excuse me, I thought this was the address of a human called Alex. We're friends.”

“This is, officially, though grandfather isn't currently here. He's at the nearby hospital. I can give you the address."

The hospital was mostly white like the medbay of our ship, and smelled of alcohol based disinfectants and antiseptics.

A frail-looking man laid on the bed, various machines surrounding him beeping at steady rhythm. His hair was thin and now entirely ashen white. Pale rings, like clouds of smoke, framed his blue eyes, and deep lines ran down his features, accented by familiar copper brown dots.

He slowly opened his eyes, studied me for a moment in a stunned silence, before the corners of his mouth formed that unforgettable radiant smile.

“Cosmo, my old friend! Still the same as the day we met! You haven't aged a day.”

I sat by his side on a chair set up next to the bed. We gazed at the stars outside the hospital window as the sun set and then rose once again. We spoke of the memories we had made not too long ago, and joked around like nothing had changed.

In the end, though it felt far too soon, he simply closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, just like every other night, but this time, he never woke up again.

The world went on, unaware that the brightest flame I had ever known had been extinguished.

next

Decades passed eventually turning into centuries. Many humans came and went, and I had learned to keep a distance, out of fear of once again getting burned by their brilliance. Or maybe more accurately, out of fear of getting used to their warmth and losing it all once again.

The darkness felt so much colder when you had experienced light after all.

We had made a pitstop at a mining colony planet. It was mostly sand and mountains, with only a few rivers and lakes, around which larger settlements had been built.

We however, had landed near a mine to load cargo.

With nothing to do while we were on the ground, I decided to take a look around and go exploring the planet's surface a bit to clear my mind.

The desert felt like it stretched endlessly. A scorching blue star glared silently above the horizon, casting harsh distorted shadows, and the dry wind formed sand into giant waves that flowed and rumbled with each step.

The planet breathed in its own slow way. Shifting, reforming, never settling. Yet none of it felt alive. It was motion without a pulse. Change without growth.

Time itself seemed to hold still, even as everything around me kept drifting and reshaping itself into something new.

There was something in that stillness and hollow emptiness that drew me in deeper.

So I kept walking. My feet carried me over ridge after ridge without a destination.

Half-buried in the dunes, I saw an immense frame reminiscent of some ancient monument jutting out of the sand. The skeleton of a star ray. Bones that had once no doubt been transparent like crystal, had now weathered to be stone as white as ivory.

It was incredibly valuable. Priceless even. A find like this could easily earn enough to last lifetimes. And fame of being the one to discover it could get you into pages of history books. The xenobiology community would give anything for it.

But at the end of the day, I didn't want to disturb its rest.

I had once watched them dance through the void, alongside the brightest friend I had ever made.

Back then they felt almost eternal.

previous

next

– This fire has been going on for 6 months already! The gas just keeps coming from this breach!

– Just detonate a nuke at a right angle.

– Excuse me what?!

– Yeah, the blast will block the way for the gas and without fuel there will be no fire.

– No. No! Are you crazy?! Did you at least try to do anything but nuke?!

– We've tried everything but nuke. Here's the list.

– ...If it works, I'm hanging a portrait of Kurchatov in my home.

T'chok ran to the head office of Xeno Military and Sociological Research, clutching a Pad device. He burst into Commander K'tlex's office, whiskers twitching. "Sir! I have it! I figured it out!"

K'tlex jumped at the intrusion. "Figured what out?"

T'chok looked at him as if K'tlex's tail just fell off. "The question on how the humans continually advance so far in armaments and military superiority! Thev are generations ahead of most other species!"

"What?" K'tlex chittered. "Out with it!"

"We couldn't figure it out until I examined it with their history. It's simple. Every scientific discovery they have made, in the past or since joining the Galactic Council, has been applied or examined for military value *first*."

"What? You are crazy! Of course It cant destroy the Fabric of Reality! That would be stupid, impossible and most importantly stupidly dangerous. This gun just pricks it a little to create a wave in the Fabric of Reality that obliterates everything in an approximately 600 meter radius until the Wave peters out. Im currently working on refining the process, 600 meter is way too overzealous. Not the precision Weapon i was working on. A 10 meter radius is more than enough. And i have to refine it, because Morgan over there is working on a DNA-specific Weapon, where you can fire wantonly into a mass of People but only injure and Kill based on what DNA you fed the Gun beforehand. If his one works, but mine is the equivalent of "Rods from God" on an Ant-Hill, im gonna loose my fucking mind."