Date: 72 PST (Post Stasis Time)
Sam awkwardly stood around, the strange alien music filling the air with a weird sound, as if a bop-it machine had invented techno. He stared down at the collection of cups and bottles of various makes and lethalities stacked on the table in front of him, as other strange bodies crowded around him, each person taking their own choice of refreshments.
The universe is a large place, and even though the galaxy is a smaller place than that, that still makes the Milky Way a very very large place. There are over 200 billion stars, most with some form of planet orbiting it. As of the current date, there were 32081 known sapient FTL-capable species registered in the Federation database, and this was not an accurate count: It was practically a weekly event of some species finally making their way to the stars and discovering that there’s a lot of life out there in the galaxy.
This meant that even though the Terran Alliance’s 426 species was one of the largest official diplomatic groupings, in terms of overall context they were very very small. The war that the Terran Alliance was fighting against the Estorian Empire was, for most of the galaxy, “something happening far far away” in a location nobody cared about. The Galaxy was filled with hundreds of such conflicts, hundreds of alliances, religious crusades and genocides. All desperately important to the people involved in them, and all desperately unimportant against the general background noise of the universe.
This is why Sam Derral was surrounded by aliens who were… most alien. Extraterrestrial life was hardly a new concept for humans, or Terrans as they preferred to call themselves, the species having entered the galactic community a mere 72 years ago. However, the planet of Greater Zarrus, which Sam found himself on, was a solid three weeks' worth of travel from the nearest Terran outpost, not including refuelling, meaning he didn’t recognize any of the strange beings that filled this house.
There were no humans, no Ritilians, no Scythen, no Hatil. A good proportion of the figures at this party were the native Taadhi, amphibious amorphous 5ft tall bright blue blobs, each with a giant unblinking eye in its centre; their slimy slurping appendages provided a fantastic grip as they walked along the floors walls and ceilings of this abode. However of the 70% of the population who weren’t native to the planet, none of them were anything that Sam could recognize: Reptilians and canines, small scurrying rodents and avians. A giant sentient cube of light communicated with a talking tree, only to be later joined by what looked like a jar of sapient purple liquid.
Technically this was everything Sam Derral had signed up for, an experience no other Terran in the history of his species had ever experienced. It was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to break out of his shell, to be an explorer in the galaxy, the first Terran student on the planet of Greater Zarrus. Instead, Sam felt as if he was having a constant panic attack at the unfamiliar sights.
He was not an outgoing person, preferring the comfort of a good book and a quiet night in, to the more chaotic dealings of other people. But it was this introverted preference, a fear of missing out on life, which had driven him in almost a moment of impulse, to choose this location to get his degree. Sam was not stupid, he could have gotten into a good university on Earth or even a lesser-known Scythen establishment, but in a fit of desperation had chosen somewhere that nobody else had gone before; something to force him out of his comfort zone, to sink or swim.
The Terran took a few moments to continue rifling through the potluck of various drinks and substances laid out on the table in front of him, testing a few to find something that wouldn’t be lethal. The first had been some kind of neurotoxin, the second containing enough arsenic to quickly send him to his maker, eventually settling on a cup of thick green liquid which his testing device told him should have a nice non-lethal numbing effect. Sure, he could have just drank the Whiskey he had brought along, but the entire point of this endeavour was to do something new. Having successfully navigated the drinks table, Sam turned his attention to a more terrifying prospect: Socially interacting with people he didn’t know.
While all cultures are different, a surprising number of them have the concept of a freshers week: You take a bunch of young adults leaving the comfort of their families for the first time, each wanting to “run loose”, and the concept of a ‘breaking in period’ wasn’t uncommon. This meant that the many different species and students of the “Zar's University of Learning and Peace” had decided to spend much of their time partying at various houses and establishments.
This was one such party, hosted by one of the richer natives of the planet, the relatively large house had a gathering of several hundred new students, all looking to get intoxicated to some extent while loud music played in the background. It had seemed like a good idea initially to Sam, but now that he was here the mass of people, loud noises and general uncertainty meant the Terran honestly would have rather been at home, or at least in his dorm.
“Heeeeey, how is my favourite bipedal doing!”
There was a blur of red scales as a figure scuttled along the ground surprisingly quickly, the quadrupedal mass of reptilian muscle making its way over to Sam, before raising itself on its hind two legs and drooping its front limbs over the Terran’s shoulder; causing the human to stagger slightly from the unexpected weight, the hissing voice calling out as it leaned over Sam.
“How you enjoying yourself Sam! Ready to have fun?”
Qak was a… Sam actually couldn’t remember the species' name, but he did know that he was his roommate. A towering reptilian mass of red scales, seven feet long with a spiralling tail, Qak was something from a horror movie. Eyeless, only able to navigate the world through two pulsating organs that covered the top of his head that allowed the sensing of light, the bottom half of his head filled with long thin exposed teeth that seemed to glisten with primal hunger.
Of course, Sam knew Qak wasn’t any danger, for two main reasons. Firstly, as scary as he looked, his roommate had the personality of a Golden Retriever put into person form. His first interaction with the lizard had ended with a several hour-long conversation about everything and anything in Sam’s life, his species and Terrans in general. Exceptionally friendly and outgoing, Qak was ironically the complete opposite of Sam, probably for the better as they had been the one to invite him to this party. The last two days had involved Qak bonding heavily with Sam, just happy to meet anyone and everyone.
Secondly, the laws of the planet meant Qak couldn’t really hurt anyone, even if he tried. Restrictions on weapons and deadly appendages meant each of the lizard's claws had been filed down to harmless nubs, and his mouth was filled with a special guard that not only gave Qak an adorable lisp but also made it impossible actually to bite anyone; even if he wanted to.
Not that he was the only one. The safety of the citizens of Taadhi was paramount, meaning finding a weapon more dangerous than a butter knife was an impossibility, with even physical attributes like claws, teeth, and poisons all requiring some form of neutralization. This was evident even here at this party, with Qak getting some of the worst of it, legally requiring the mouth guard and constant claw blunting at all times.
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just getting a drink, it’s ok.” Sam answered with far less enthusiasm, more trying to hype himself up than actually responding. This is what things people his age did, They got drunk, met new people, and experienced new things.
So why the hell was I so anxious about doing just that?
“You just gotta get out there, have fun, talk with some people. That’s why we’re here right? There are plenty of cool people here, never seen so many different species! Never even been off my home planet before!”
DD spoke in that standard lisping hissing that translated into excited and enthusiastic words, the forever outgoing lizard making it all sound so… easy. To just go up to people and instantly connect and talk with them as if your mind wasn’t going a million miles an hour. Of course, the single most outgoing and friendly being Sam had ever met had no problems in this situation.
Maybe I can stick around for an hour or so then sneak out the back and go back to the dorm… I’d much prefer to be at home.
Sam finished his drink, the green liquid leaving a strange aftertaste behind as he crumpled the paper cup in one hand, preparing to follow his far more outgoing roommate around. Before he began to move, the Terran absent-mindedly tossed his trash at a nearby bin, giving a half-hearted declaration of accuracy from centuries past.
“Kobe.”
Sam didn’t even watch the trash enter the bin. It was only a meter away, and the container was huge, it hardly counted as a shot for the Terran. A few eyes in the busy party however had followed the trash’s trajectory, among them was Qak.
“Wow! See, if you’re doing super lucky things like hitting that kind of shot already, then the rest of the night is going to be a breeze!”
That left the Terran confused, a frown covering Sam’s face as he stared at his roommate for a few moments, glancing around to notice that a few other people had also turned to stare at him. He’d just tossed something into a bin a mere meter away, it wasn’t like he’d guessed right on a roulette table.
“Err… no? It’s not that far away, it’s not that difficult. Look.”
He picked up another paper cup, crumpling it once more and with ease hitting another shot, one or two members of the party giving a noise of surprise as he did so.
“It’s just throwing, it’s not that hard.” This time more people were focusing on him, causing Sam to turn bright red as he nervously fidgeted around at all the sudden attention as he simply explained what came easily to nearly every Terran in existence.
“Not that hard! You don’t have to be modest dude, that bin is like a meter away!” Qak's hissing voice once again sounded out as the giant lizard looked down at Sam “It’s kinda awesome!”
“That’s Tribble!” A third voice sounded out, the sound of a Taadhi, one of the people who had been watching that exchange. They had finally stepped forward, holding out an empty glass bottle towards the Terran with one formless amphibian limb. “There’s no way you can reliably do that again! It’s either a trick or luck. Twenty credits says you can’t do that again with this bottle.”
Sam paused for a moment, heart pounding as he sheepishly looked on at all the figures now focusing their gaze onto only him. Part of Sam wanted to sink into the floor, to escape from all the unwarranted attention. Another part, however, a part emboldened by the intoxicating substance he had just consumed, felt a little… offended at the idea of a very basic and easy throw being considered a trick. The Taadhi wasn’t maliciously antagonistic with their words, but instead, their tone was filled with a clear and legitimate disbelief that such a thing is possible.
Sam took the bottle from the alien's grasp, giving it a small practice toss with one hand, never breaking eye contact as he then took two large steps backwards, doubling the distance. Then, with a good thirty eyes focused entirely on him, he once again chanted the cry of accuracy as he let the bottle fly.
“Kobe!”
Not that it was a hard shot, even at two meters it was barely across the room, but as the glass bottle hit the inside of the trash can, the sound of gasps and shock could be heard from many of the onlookers. The Taadhi who had challenged Sam seemed to wobble in a way that suggested a mix of being impressed and dismayed, before concedingly holding out a device to transfer the agreed credits.
"I stand corrected. That is very impressive, I'm guessing you're athletically trained?"
Sam couldn't help but feel his nerves flair up again, the small amount of confidence the intoxicating substance and his 'feat of skill' had given was quickly dissipating.
"Not really… I err… Well it's just throwing something, it's not that hard at that distance… You know?"
Sam remained an anxious embarrassed shade of red, rubbing the back of his neck as the eyes of the people in the room seemed to burn a hole into his soul. Luckily the awkward Terran was saved by the ever friendly interjection of his roommate.
“Yeah it’s awesome, he’s a new species from across the Galaxy. Terran if I remember, they do a bunch of weird stuff, did you know they eat theobromine for fun? His name is Sam and I’m Qak”
For a moment Sam was glad Qak was taking the attention away from himself, before the Taadhi once again fixed its single eye on his person, dashing any hopes of getting away from the strange situation without any more attention being gained.
“I’m Amimar. A new species then, how interesting. If such a feat is easy for one such as yourself, then I have to wonder: what is a hard ‘throw’ for a Terran?”
—-----------------------------
Sam wasn’t sure what he expected an alien party on an alien planet to be like, but he was 100% certain that normally it didn’t involve spending half the night throwing things at other things. It had become quite literally a ‘party trick’, seeing how far and how accurately the Terran could throw things, Amimar in particular taking an interest in how far Sam’s ‘skills’ could take things.
In a way, it was a blessing for the introverted Sam. A structured thing to do, something to talk about, leading to generally natural conversion with all manner of people and persons at the party. That, as well as the copious amounts of various intoxicating substances, had left Sam in a state where against all odds, he was having a good time.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
The real surprise was how little was considered impressive, and just how bad at throwing every other species was. Anyone who tried to replicate his feats either lacked the range or accuracy to do anything interesting, leading to a lot of discussion about what exactly made Terrans so biologically good at throwing things.
This led to further discussions about the various sports Terran enjoy, videos of basketball and baseball, which led to more disbelief. The idea that anyone could throw anything over 40mph with any form of accuracy was clearly one of myth and over-exaggeration.
This is how Sam found himself outside in the garden, surrounded by a good thirty onlookers, staring at a crudely painted target on the side of a wall 60 feet away. The Terran swayed slightly as the effects of the night’s intoxications took hold, taking a moment to try and focus on the visually wobbling target that stood in front of him, clumsily fumbling with the ball in one hand.
Sam glanced around him, the grouping of various students looking in his direction, many of them holding recording devices expectantly in his direction. One of them had even rushed home to grab a speedometer, the container of purple sentient liquid sloshing expectantly as they stared at the device they had brought with them.
Sam was feeling strangely confident, which generally wasn’t the case when sport-based activities came up. On the one hand, he hadn’t played baseball since he was a child, was having trouble standing straight, and his hand-eye coordination was completely shot. On the other, even a below-average throw would probably blow these alien’s minds.
BANG
The ball hit the wall in a sloppy arc, striking the edge of the target as the force of the movement caused Sam to stumble a few steps before falling on his ass. By all accounts, it was not a good throw; lacking power, accuracy, or grace. For a mortifying few moments, Sam wondered if he’d made an absolute mockery of himself, for a few moments he just wanted to disappear as everyone stared at his collapsed form. Then the container of liquid spoke.
“Bloody hell… that’s… [45 MPH]. On target.”
A terrible effort by Terran standards, but one that caused the liquid alien to bubble with worry as it did a few calculations before continuing to speak.
“That ball would… crack my containment. If it was a rock it would break most species bones.”
There was a strange silence as Sam sat there on the ground, everyone in the garden staring down with a little bit of worry at the strange new primate, each person coming to the same conclusion: In between his throwing ability, and the various ways most species were forced to adjust themselves to legally make themselves safe, A Terran with a rock would be the most dangerous person in any room on the planet of Greater Zarrus.
That silence was broken by Qak, who rushed over in excitement and pulled Sam to his feet, breaking the tension in one moment as he raised the Terran's hand in victory, starting a cheer from those watching
“Of course! That’s amazing and awesome! Sam is a walking weapon!”
—------------------------
I promise I will never drink or consume anything that isn’t water and healthy vegetables, Oh god why did I do this?
Sam was not having a good time. A night of drinking various alien alcohol and other intoxicating substances had left the young Terran with the mother of all hangovers. Everything hurt, from his brain through to his stomach; a stomach that even though was currently empty, threatened to heave and retch once again. This was why Sam was currently hugging the organic waste receptacle, truly hating his life right now.
I swear on any gods that exist, I will become a model student and never do anything not studying related, just make this pain stop.
Qak wasn't doing much better, still half buried in the container of warm sand they used to sleep in, exposed legs and tail sprawled out told of an unsuccessful attempt to fully burrow before passing out. Only the occasional twitch of a tail let Sam know his roommate was still alive.
Still, it was a fun night. There was a university team for a local sport that many people had practically begged him to try out for. The idea of a "Terran with a rock" being the most dangerous thing in any room had also been rather funny.
All in all, it had been a-
BANG BANG BANG
The loud banging on the dorm door startled Sam, causing him to groan with agony as the loud noise thumped against his headache. Who exactly was causing such a racket at this hour? Didn’t they know he was trying to die here?
BANG BANG BANG
"Open up! This is the police!"
Wait… What?! Why are the police here? Sam desperately tried to remember what happened last night, through a blur of drinking and various activities. He hadn’t even left the house, there was no way he’d done anything to justify the police banging on his door.
BANG BANG CRASH
There was no time to think or ponder over exactly what had happened, as the door to the dorm collapsed in on itself under the assault on the other side. In a flurry of movement and noise four Taadhi entered the room, each wearing the uniform of law enforcement, each armed with weaponry that they were pointing at the Terran, each shouting a multitude of commands tinged with fear and worry.
“Put your hands where we can see them!”
“Do not pick anything up!”
“Stay still, don’t throw anything!”
In his extremely hungover state, Sam couldn’t do anything but just bleakly stare at the mass of law enforcement descending on his prone position, the weirdly slimy appendages wrenching his hands into restraints as he was forced to his feet.
“What, what’s going on? What happened? Why are you doing this?”
Sam couldn’t understand as he was being roughly dragged out of the room by the cops. This was not what he wanted to have happen, getting arrested during his first week was not in his plans. As he spotted a last glimpse of a still unconscious Qak, a single phrase uttered by one of the Taadhi told Sam that he might be in some real trouble.
“Due to video showing your ability to throw objects at lethal velocities and accuracies, you are under arrest for the illegal owning of a deadly weapon without a license!”
—-------------------
Mr Ket was… pissed.
The Terran diplomat marched behind the Taadhi representative, a silent fury emanating from his person as he did so, the other Taadhi guards looking nervously at each other as they followed, a skittish worry emanating from their figures. Mr. Ket was a large man, seeming to impossibly fit within the suit he wore as if each movement was a struggle not to burst out of his professional dress, and seemingly one of very few words. The only ones that he had uttered were simple:
“Take me to Sam Derral, now.”
Most diplomats were polite dignified looking figures, extruding a professional friendly demeanour. Mr Ket was not most diplomats: the scars that ran across the exposed parts of his body, his huge hulking form, his gruff voice that seemed to promise violence. He looked less like a diplomat and more like the kind of criminal who would gain the nickname "the butcher".
Of course, Mr Ket didn't deal with most problems. Most diplomats spent their time discussing immigration with space foxes or trading with space otters. Mr Ket dealt with cases where the other galactic species were being aggressive, dangerous, or just plain stupid.
"I'm not sure why you're here Mr Ket, the situation is under control, there's no need for escalation"
The voice of the Taadhi representative trembled slightly, the worry in the burbling voice obvious. Even for someone not fluent in Terran body language, the displeasure of the silent titan of a man was obvious. Well, displeasure was one word to describe Mr. Ket's feelings.
There's an unwritten rule that you don't insult the citizens of other species. It's like making fun of another parent's kid: it's just not considered polite. That meant that while the Terran Conclave put out a lot of publications trying to limit Terran's stupidity, that didn’t mean there weren't also stupid aliens.
For every instance of a Terran trying to smuggle drugs into an alien system, there was a human getting arrested for 'trafficking adrenaline'. For every Terran that kidnapped someone 'because they were cute', there was an alien film crew installing hidden cameras without permission to record a 'Terran reality TV show'.
And this was a case of aliens being really really stupid.
Ket and the Taadhi finally finished their walk, moving briskly past sets of cells and other secured rooms in this jail, to finally come to the person that Ket had specifically requested to see; the reason the Terran diplomat had spent the last three weeks doing nothing but travelling on a diplomatic vessel, three weeks fuming and getting angrier. In front of him sat the forlorn figure of Sam Derral.
The Terran Conclave’s embassy had been contacted by Sam’s roommate, Qak. After working out why and how the unfortunate student had been taken into custody, Ket had been the one selected to bring him home. A reason had been given for his arrest… the dumbest reason. How can an entire planet have such strict weapon laws that being good at throwing things is a reason to arrest them?
“Hello Sam. I’m Mr Ket, a Terran Conclave representative. Have you been treated well during the last few weeks of imprisonment?”.
Through the bars, Sam looked fine. Tired and distressed, but mostly fine, perking up slightly at the sight of another Terran.
"Of course he is fine, we are not brutes, the criminal is-"
The Taadhi diplomat was cut off by a single raised finger from Ket, the meaty digit cutting off the representative with a silent motion as the various guards and other armed members fidgeted nervously with their weapons. Ket leant towards the bars as he waited for an answer.
"Well… I guess I'm fine. They won't remove the hand restraints but I'm just confused, sir. They keep talking about a weapon but I just threw a ball, I didn't do anything else I swear!"
There was a momentary pause as Ket seemed to study Sam after he spoke, before in a moment he stood up straight, turning to the Taadhi representative. This was good news. Well relatively good news, there still would be consequences considering that it had been a random university student to contact the Terran embassy instead of the Taadhi government.
"So it seems you haven’t done anything really stupid, so there's no need to escalate this. Just release Sam into my custody and we will be on our way."
It took a moment before the Taadhi representative understood the words before they started to quiver in annoyance at the suggestion. This Terran had marched in, demanded to see a prisoner with no other greetings, a prisoner who had broken their laws that kept everyone safe and was now demanding their release.
“The Terran broke the law! We are very clear about safety here on Greater Zarrus, we couldn’t possibly let someone with the potential danger of Sam out of our custody until they are made safe!”
Mr Ket simply raised an eyebrow in response.
“And that would be?”
“A simple procedure. Based on Sam’s biological data a painless ten-minute surgery to cut the tendon in his left arm and right leg would reduce his ability to throw items at a lethal velocity.”
There was another pause, another moment of tension as Mr Ket took the moment to step towards the Taadhi representative, every other person in the room tensing up once again as the malice and anger from the giant of a man became fully apparent.
“So you’re saying that you won’t release Sam until you cripple him, because of some stupid fear of our tendon structure? A structure may I remind you that I currently possess. Are you suggesting that I need such a… ‘simple procedure’?”
The way Ket leant forwards, the way he spoke quietly, and the simple almost grinding tone of his voice all said one thing: “I’d like to see you try”. It was not something anyone in the room wanted to enforce
“Well… you are a diplomat so certain allowances are made, but we absolutely cannot risk the safety of our citizens with-”
“No.”
Mr Ket interrupted the stammering Taadhi, taking another step forward, physically towering over the bright blue amorphous blob, who right now was most desperately wanting to be anywhere else other than this room. The other guards all blinked worriedly with their single eye, each worried that the weapons they carried would not be enough to stop this giant Terran, each one desperately hoping they wouldn’t have to test such a possibility.
“We will not be indulging in this stupidity. The Terran Conclave does not care or recognize laws of any kind which discriminate based on immutable physical attributes and does not recognize the sovereignty of such actions. So no, release Sam now.”
“But, but the laws are clear, the-”
One more the shivering frame of the Taadhi diplomat was cut off by the ever stern voice of Mr Ket.
“Stop. You may believe you are being given a choice. This is incorrect. You will release Sam now, and we will be off this planet of idiots within four hours, or I will release Sam myself. Believe me, for all your fear of a good throwing arm, I am far better armed than a simple rock. So you can either release him, or I can do it for you. Make. Your. Choice.”
—-------------------
Sam sat in the seat of the ship, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists, wondering exactly what the hell happened to end up in this situation. He'd just spent three weeks in an alien prison because he… Threw a ball? Then the Terran Conclave had sent, this mountain of a person to break him out. Frankly, it was all a bit too much for Sam, who just wanted to be left alone at this point.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
The Terran representative who had broken him out of prison asked the question in his standard rumbling voice. Mr Ket was quite unlike any diplomat Sam had ever seen. Most other Terran representatives he'd met were polite charismatic characters who had spent all of their time reiterating the importance of Sam not doing anything to cause an inter-species issue. Mr Ket, on the other hand, looked more like the kind of person to diplomatically suggest you pay your debts through the diplomatic removal of kneecaps.
"This is just insane, one moment I'm just getting ready to start my place at university, next, I'm being broken out of prison by the government. What would have happened if they didn’t accept your request?"
With Sam's question, Mr Ket gave a grin, a fun grin full of large teeth, before simply reaching into the breast pocket of his suit and retrieving a gun, showing it for a few moments before placing it back into its hiding space
"Carrying a big stick is a non-optional part of speaking softly."
Others were starting to arrive as the pair waited, handfuls of Terrans making their way to the diplomat's vessel. While Terrans hadn’t been closely involved with the Taadhi, there were a few workers and other citizens living on the planet, each of which had been given an official black notice about the planet of Greater Zarrus: An immediate advisory to get off the planet as soon as possible. In this case, because the Taadhi had shown themselves to be crazy enough to force crippling surgery on any Terran in their space.
Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty about this, about tearing apart a potential relationship with another species, simply because he wanted to show off at a party. There had been talks of further integration with the Taadhi, especially their places of learning, so having all that torn down in an instant… was not how Sam had wanted this new chance to reinvent himself to start.
“I really am sorry about this. Didn’t mean for anything like this to happen.”
With that Ket gave a reassuring smile, placing a single giant hand on the young Terran’s shoulder.
“Not your fault, this kind of thing happens all the time. You start to make diplomatic links with a species, and it turns out they’re crazy. They religiously hate felines making it unsafe for uplifts, requiring by law everyone in their space to host a mind-controlling parasite. Or in one case, they literally sacrifice five percent of the population to a sentient volcano every ten years. Yeah getting everyone evacuated off the planet in two days when we found out about that was interesting stuff. Frankly, we’re glad we found out the true extent of their dumb weaponless laws before increasing ties with them.”
A new sound joined the steady rhythm of footsteps as the last few Terrans boarded the ship, the clicking and clacking of claws against metal, causing Sam to look in the direction of a familiar ‘face’. Qak scuttled along the ground, the nightmarish Lizard causing a few Terrans around him to glance nervously in his direction, the alien eventually rising once again to wrap a clawed arm around Sam.
“Heeey, my favourite biped is OK! How are you doing? I was so worried when I woke up and couldn’t find you, then I heard you got arrested, it wasn’t cool!”
Sam couldn’t help but smile. While he’d only known Qak for a few days, any friendly face after his imprisonment was an improvement on his situation.
“I’m good, leaving though. What are you doing here?”
“I’m coming with you! Because I was the one to contact your people they offered me a place at a… what was the species again…. Ritilian? Yeah got a place at one of their universities along with you. The downside is we’ve missed the first few weeks, the upside is I don’t have to grind down my claws or wear this stupid mouthguard anymore. It’ll be great not having my claws be constantly numb.”
There was a lurch as the ship began to move, leaving the planet behind and starting the long trip back towards Terran space. Away from the chance to explore new species and locations, and back towards the safety of the known. Although as Sam looked at the figure of Qak scuttling around and introducing themselves to every Terran on board, he’d at least found something new from his little excursion.
Sam also had to admit that having the title of throwing something hard enough and accurately enough to get an entire species banned from an entire planet…
Well, that was kinda of cool.