I move my consciousness into the body and slowly descend to the ground. Step down onto the snow. It crunches beneath my feet. I pick up a piece in my hands. Sniff it. Put it to my ear and squeeze it. Stick it in my mouth.

People who say water tastes like nothing are wrong because this snow tastes exactly like water and nothing but water. Which is a delightful taste. I’m happy. I can taste, huh? I can hear, huh? I can smell, too?

The sound of the snow crunching beneath my feet is fantastic. The wind is fantastic.

My grabby tentacle is stretching behind me, connected to me like some sort of tail, but that’s fine.

I climb the steps to the temple and slip inside the large doors that finally feel as grandiose as they should appear. The same is true for the inside. The statues of the people are no longer my own size, they’re now massive, awe-inspiring things. Same with the pillar and the ceiling and everything in between. But I have no time to waste!

I quickly pick up the pace, running through the door beneath the stairs, right through the hallway, into the excavation site, and further into the cave system.

I’ve been here enough to know the route by heart, but even so, I feel a fair bit nervous.

What if he just gets scared again? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he speaks some weird language I don’t understand? What if he ran somewhere and got hurt? What if he-,

Ah, there’s the bend! Warm light. Plants.

I sneak up to it, peeking my head just around the corner.

Th-, there he is! Whoa, he’s taken off his spacesuit! That is… A strange clothing? I mean-, strange in that it’s not what I expected. It looks like… He’s got high leather boots, riding pants, a double-breasted tunic… All in a military kind of olive-green. And he’s got some sort of badge, too. It just-, it doesn’t look super high-tech? In a way, it reminds me of some unsavoury characters, but other than that, he’s… Well, he’s hunched over something on the floor.

(https://imgur.com/gallery/t2EsanT)

Or, rather, I think he might be looking for something?

I move out of the darkness.

His face turns to me the instant I set foot on the soft grass. Uncertainty muddies his sharp, dark-ringed eyes and I hesitate to approach further. Then, before I can so much as speak a word, he speaks out instead.

“Ah, a native, are you?” His voice is a bit hoarse but contains the authoritative tone of voice that might be expected of a commanding officer or something.

-Ah! A human voice! He spoke a human sounds!!

My face parts in a broad, sharp-toothed smile and the man frowns. “Do you speak basic or need I attempt other means of communication?” And only now do I realize something troubling. See, yeah, I’ve done my years of education, I know my three languages, but even then…

I’ve never been much good at English. Damnit. Why can’t people just speak Finnish like normal people?

“Eurghh yies shu-,” I say, slurring every word beyond recognition and ending the sentence by successfully impaling my tongue on one of my too-sharp teeth. Sure, it heals in a moment, but the embarrassment lingers. He seems annoyed. Oh god. I hope I’m not ruining my first encounter with a human already. “Er-, herm-,, y-, yes, I speak English. No good. Sorry.”

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The man’s face scrunches up like he tasted a sour grape. “Pah. Filthy native. I suppose you’ll have to do…” He points a gloved finger at the grassy ground and I follow his line of sight. “Find my Code Cylinder momentarily.”

“Your what?”

He rolls his eyes and gingerly removes a small, pen-like silver cylinder from a little pocket on his breast. “One of these. I’ve lost the other one. It is imperative that it is found.” His eyes sharpen. “Furthermore, should you refer to me in the future, you will call me sir and only sir. The only possible exception to this rule would be ‘Commander Typhin.’”

I look at him for a second, eyes bouncing between his face, the silver cylinder in his hand and the grassy floor. “Uh, okay, sir!”

I step closer to him, and once I do, I realize that I may have made a mistake. See, I modelled this little body after how large I had determined him to be. After my smallest tentacle.

I may have made a mistake. I barely reach up to his chest.

All things considered, I’m the size of a nine-year-old child. Shoot.

-But that’s unimportant! I just got a task, and I’m gonna do it! Hehehe, I bet if I help him find his important goober we can be friends, hehehe. I get down on my knees and start feeling around in the grass. While I do that, Typhin starts speaking again, in a more tentative, inquisitive tone.

“Did you bring me here, native?” he asks, circling around me, both arms behind his back and his spine straight as a ramrod.

“Yessir! Space not good. Your air bad. Needed…” I fumble in my mind, “happi? No, not that...”

He wrinkles his nose. “I needed to be happy? I’ll inform you, native, I am not happy with this development, not in the least. I’ll assume my ship crash-landed on this planet. Where is this?”

“Ah, oxygen! Sorry, sir. It did not crash, no sir, I found you in space.” I wish my English was better. How did I get a C in this God-forsaken language? I’m lucky I had google translate. Now I sort of wish I didn’t. “Also, sir, my name is Mort Tilling. Short for Mortholomew. This planet is Ilsa. I do not know where this planet is. It is in asteroid field. Far from Earth. Are you from Earth, sir?”

He circles around to stand right before me, giving me a pretty nice look at his extremely shiny black boots. I can almost see my own face! “I am unfamiliar with both of those names, although I will not doubt your words, native Mortholomew. Now, forgive my ignorance; what do you mean by saying that the ship did not crash?”

I look up, catching his gaze. His eyes are very blue. “Do you not remember, sir? I found you in space. I was only able to rescue you. Bring you to this planet.”

Somehow, he doesn’t seem to quite believe me. If anything, going by his facial expression, he seems more doubtful with every word I speak. “What affiliations do you hold, native Mortholomew?”

A-, affiliations? Um. A very good question! I could probably say “Earth,” but since he (sadly) doesn’t know what Earth is, I guess I’ll just say… “I do not understand. And, please, call me Mort. Easier on tongue.”

“Very well, native Mort. Whatever affiliations you hold, if they are not in opposition to the Empire, I will consider you a temporary ally.”

A-, an ally??

My face lights up in a wide smile. “Glad to be, sir!”

He takes a step back at seeing my face, and I can only imagine it’s because of my teeth. Since they’re strong enough to bite through rock, I can understand why they’d be a little scary. “...Good. Now, once you’ve found my Code Cylinder, I need to use the comlinks in your ship to call for assistance. I need to report that the mission was a failure. In turn, as my saviour, you will be generously rewarded, native Mort.”

I smile again, face growing flushed. “Hehe, no need, sir, it is my…” and then I recall a certain detail. “Ah, sorry to say, sir, I have no spaceship.”

Typhin startles for a moment. “You have no spaceship?”

I shake my head meekly, turning back to the grass. “No sir.”

“You saved me from death in the middle of space and brought me to a planet without the use of a starship? Impossible.”

For just a moment, I still my tongue. Mostly out of a lack of things to say back, but also partially because I think I might have found something! It’s small and sleek and kind of cold to the touch, and I think I might just have found it! What I don’t see, however, is how Typhin circles around me, his wariness growing deeper, until he finally lays eyes on my tail, on how it extends meters away from my body, slipping into the darkened cave system, where half a dozen glistening eyes catch the light.

Neither do I see how his spirit steeled, eyes hardening, fate accepted. Revenge decided.

“Sir, I believe I may have found it!” I straighten my upper body, swivel my torso to face Typhin, and instantly come face to face with the nuzzle of some sort of firearm. “S-, sir-?”

Zap!

The upper consciousness in my body is instantly evaporated as what feels like a bolt of pure fire tears through my face, destroying both the core and the eyes. I drop the cylinder in surprise. The torn-apart head slumps over, lightly hitting my still-upright chest as dull pain shoots through my entire body like a zap of lightning. Faintly, over the white noise from my disconnected ears, I think I can hear Typhin shouting something about vengeance for his fallen comrades. I can’t understand. In desperation, I release my hold on the tentacles hiding the mouth and eyes on my chest. They spread like the mouth of a Venus fly-trap and I’m given a solid look at Typhin’s face, seemingly torn between determination and fear, mouth half-open.

I lift my arms and tear my head off by the neck. Typhin’s eyes widen and his jaw clamps shut. I open my chest-maw. He stumbles back a few steps. I feed myself with my own head. His chest starts rising and falling quicker and quicker. I chew. His hand, finger still on the trigger, starts shaking. Once I can feel my neck start regenerating I let my tentacles hide my lower core again. And once my head has fully regenerated, which took a few seconds at most…

“-That’s rude, sir!” I pout. “Why, if I was any other animal, I would die!”

“Wh-, what are you?...” he speaks in something barely louder than a whisper.