[Berentz-of-Aragrahra] was having a bad day. His tail drooped low as did his ears. To be fair, [*Berentz*] was having a good day, but his new best friend [John] was not. [John] was a new hire, brought in by [Friend Samuel].
[Berentz] whimpered under his breath as he watched [John]. [Samuel] had spoken about this, but [John] was showing ‘anger’. To the untrained eye — not that [Berentz] was ‘trained’ in such things — the [human] appeared to be just cranky and in desperate need of a nap and a [juicebox], but for John, things were doubtless reaching [The Point At Which It Goes Wrong], as [Samuel] had said it might.
With a sigh, [Berentz] ducked out for a moment and gave [Friend Samuel] a quick call.
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John gritted his teeth as he signalled that he wanted down from his chair. For the umpteenth time this day — and it wasn’t even lunch yet — he cursed the fact that he’d answered that wanted ad and cursed the fact that he’d been interviewed and cursed even more the fact that he’d been chosen to support the xenos in whatever it was they were doing here.
His implants helped, somewhat, in letting him understand their language both written and spoken, but it didn’t help him *understand* what he was looking at, or even what they were talking about. Worse, this office was not like a posting from the UTF where the ships or quarters would be mandated to have human-compatible *everythings*, oh no. Here, everything was Dorarizin-scale, from the tables to the doors, even to the chairs. The Diaspora might have been well underway, restrictions on ‘employment’ — as far from what that word originally meant as it may now be — lifted, but it wasn’t like your standard interplenary posting back home. Oh no, not by a long shot.
They tried their best, they really did, and they were *exceptionally* friendly about it, but his own personal chair had *straps* in case he wanted to feel extra safe and was almost too high for him to climb into. The communal desks they worked at were so high, it made him feel like a toddler. In a literal high-chair, no less, when he wasn’t perched standing on one of their desk-chairs, which any of the helpful Dorarizin would hold fast, practically vibrating with happiness as they did so.
He hated it.
Added to that, he was understanding *so little* of what he was seeing that he felt less than superfluous.
“[My friends, I am feeling faint. Let us go out for some air.]” [Berentz] said, as he returned.
John turned, frowning. ‘Feeling faint’? What was that supposed to mean? He sighed as he felt [Whurgur] put her paws under his arms and lift him into the air. She pulled him to her close as she stepped away from the hated seat and, reluctantly, put him down.
“[Come, friend John, I would love to show you to—]” [Whurgur] began, her tail wagging behind her.
“[Apologies, Pack Leader, but John has a visitor. It is important.]” [Berentz]’ ears were out flat, apologetic. His tail wagged once, hopefully.
[Whurgur] tilted her head as she regarded her underling. He was dark grey all over, with a lighter patch around one eye. He was usually a chipper sort, but today he seemed oddly serious. As the Pack Leader, she should have been the one to know who was… ah. She blinked, rocking slightly on her feet. “[Of course, Berentz. John, go with him.]”
John was lead at quite a trot through the complex. He struggled to keep up until, apologizing, [Berentz] realized what was happening. The dorarizin then stopped and bid John wait as he fetched a cart. As the dorarizin returned, the human was gently but firmly lifted into the air and swiftly found himself once more strapped into a pupseat, not that that was anything unusual, they were practically the only appropriately sized seats. Still, it rankled.
The rest of the journey passed in a blur until, with a stop so swift he was secretly glad to have been strapped in, John found himself being gently set down in front of an airlock.
“[Berentz]?” John asked, confused. “Why…?”
“[Forgive me, friend John, your visitor is… in there. I cannot say more.]”
John snorted. “Okay, fine…”
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The airlock irised smoothly open and John found himself suddenly, instinctively ducking at the comparitively low ceiling. This vessel was human sized, and it’s occupant was also oddly familiar.
“Hello, John,” said the only occupant. As John came closer and his implant hooked up with the ship, he recognized the man immediately.
“Samuel? What on Earth are you doing here?”
“Came for a chat. Sit down, take a load off.”
“I… I don’t have time for this sort of thing, I’ve got to get back to work.” John turned, pushing the airlock cycle button. Frustrated when it refused to iris open, he tried again.
“Do you, though? Besides, it’s a bit of a walk back to the station, and getting a bit more of a walk all the time. I need your help.”
John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he whirled. “Fine. What is this all about?”
Samuel gestured, a crash couch rose up out of the floor. John sat in it as the other man began to speak. “Remember when I hired you?”
“Yeah, you told me you wanted me to help these dorarizin with… whatever it was they were doing? Said it would benefit both Earth and Dorarizin?”
Samuel nodded, chuckling. “That wasn’t quite what I said, so I guess I should apologize for lying to you. To be fair, though, I didn’t so much as *lie* as let you come to your own conclusions. Do you remember what I *actually said* I wanted you for?”
“Uh, the job description was… to… support them?”
“Uh huh. [Berentz] tells me you’re not having a good time? Do you want to quit? No, don’t answer that. First, let me ask you something else. Do you want to help me with the most important job in the world?”
“I—”
“And how do you feel about karnakians?”
John thought for a few moments, randomly looking down at the floor, at the view screens that surrounded the pair in this rather opulently appointed private ship, and over at Samuel. To him, the horrors of First Contact was something he’d learned about in school, made jokes about around whatever passed for the water-cooler when surrounded by like-minded humans, then took more seriously on Memorial Day. He knew that some humans were still sore about the millions that died during those fateful days so long ago, but for him? It was ancient history. It was ancient history that humanity at the time had almost deserved. Once the furor around it died down, documentaries had been made, interviewing people on both sides, all sides, and the truth — such as it was — had come out. Humans of that time were flighty, primitive and easily succumbed to fear and anger. He didn’t blame them, but then he didn’t blame the karnakians, either. He told Samuel as much.
“That’s good,” Samuel replied, after spending some time studying John’s face. “That’s good, because you’re going to help me with some of my clients.”
“A-and they’re karnakians?”
“They are indeed.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“And you think I can help?”
“Do you want to?”
John frowned. “I don’t understand. Why are you asking me to help you with ‘the most important job in the world’? Why am I not doing that *here with you now* all the time, and instead, you’ve stuck me with a bunch of dorarizin?”
Samuel chuckled as he turned to his controls. A notification alarm had sounded and so he made a few quick adjustments. The AI core handled most of the actual work, but Samuel wasn’t one to let it do everything for him. “You’ll see. Come with me on this job, stay quiet and respectful, and you’ll understand.”
“I suppose you won’t just let me stay here in the ship?”
“I already asked you if you wanted to quit,” Samuel responded, not turning away from his job.
“Didn’t let me answer though,” John muttered.
The ship pulled smoothly into a dock, a fact only visible through view screens and status messages. Samuel made final adjustments, smiling. “You want to? Last chance. I’ll let you stay here if so, but you’ll be shipped out back to Earth if you do.”
John sighed at the capricious man next to him. “I can quit at any time. I’ve come this far, lead on, Macduff.”
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“I’m sorry I’m late, but I brought someone extra. Hello everyone, if you’re ready, we may convene.”
This was a karnakian station, or at least the karnakian section of a Senate orbital of some sort. The usually chatty space-dinos here were reserved. Some of them seemed old, their feathers greying, which was surprising to John. They were an exceptionally long-lived species, so for so many in one place to look *old* was unusual, this didn’t look or feel like a retirement home, not that he knew what a karnakian retirement home would look like. What was even more unusual was the extreme deference they seemed to pay Samuel and how familiar Samuel was with them. He greeted them freely as he moved amongst them, like old friends.
“[Pri’tkleh], how are you? [Chr’tik], nice to see you again. [Tk’tik’n’k], glad you made it.”
He seemingly knew them all, even if his implant was prompting him some of the way. He patted them softly on their cheeks, held their claw-like hands as he spoke softly with them, butted his head against theirs as he gathered the twenty or so in the room into a rough circle. As he did so, the omnipresent light in the room lowered slightly.
“What is—?” John started asking, but Samuel held up a finger, and began speaking.
“Thank you all for coming here today, I apologize for being late, but as I said, today we have a special guest. He’s a good friend of mine, and he’s been asking to see you all. I just *had* to bring him. Say hello to Johnathan.”
“Er, hi, it’s nice to, um, finally meet you all,” John said, suddenly feeling rather small as roughly eighty eyes turned towards him. He fidgeted nervously, until Samuel once more started speaking.
“First let me say a few words,” the man began. “For us humans, Atlanta is a distant memory. We cherish our past, celebrate our victories and mourn our defeats… but for us, it’s history. Nothing we want to forget, certainly, though not because it is painful but because we should learn the lessons it taught us. This brings me, us, neatly to today. Thank you all for mustering the courage to come here because I know that for you all, Atlanta may as well have happened *yesterday*, so fresh in your memories that the smoke still stings your nostrils, the screams still sound in your ears, the bombs still fall.”
John watched as many of the Karnakians shifted uncomfortably, some of them curling into themselves, warbling sadly. His translator implant didn’t bother to make the noises into words, it just translated them as [sadness]. For the worst affected, Samuel slowly and carefully went to them, pausing his speech until he had them once again ready to continue. One of the karnakians, too distraught, was led to a rest area off to one side but given a gentle hug from Samuel before she was left there. Eventually, Samuel resumed.
“Please, be at peace. This room is safe. Nobody in this room is in danger, nobody in this room means you harm. To prove that, I will ask you all to turn off your translators. I and my friend John here will pass amongst you and we will talk the way our ancestors and you all did that first time. Thus will you *know*, by demonstration as we humans already do, that what happened was a terrible, awful mistake, one that I know *none* of you intended, or will let happen again. If any of you are feeling unsure, feel free to walk away out of the circle, we will not pursue, we will not chastise. I will tell you when to turn them on again. Now, translators off, please.”
John felt the mental prod from his implant, much more efficient than the old beads had been, that it was being asked for an authorization override to temporarily shut off. He acquiesced, and all the little hints in his periphery vision suddenly vanished. He felt strangely naked.
“What is going on?” John asked.
“Group therapy, John. I told you, it’s the most important job in the world.” Everything suddenly made sense, and John wanted to kick himself for not getting it earlier.
“What do you want me to do, though? I’m not a therapist!”
“You don’t need to be. Just… go and talk to them.”
“But they don’t understand though!”
“They will. Karnakians live a long time, John. For these karnakians, Atlanta is something they *personally* experienced. Each of them was there during First Contact, and even now they’re scarred by it. Scared. Emotionally damaged. They need me, and they need people like you, to help them heal. So go talk to them.”
John took a deep breath, then turned and walked cautiously to the nearest karnakian. This one, apparently female though he wasn’t an expert at sexing space dinosaurs, was mainly a deep and vibrant red all over her scaly hide, with a head-crest full of feathers in multiple colours.
“Hi,” he said. She was stood stock still, shaking gently. He reached out, slowly. “It’s… okay,” he said. “I won’t hurt you. You won’t hurt me, will you?”
Very gently, the raptor bent her head towards him. He closed his eyes, determined not to run. She butted at him in greeting, and his fear vanished. He chuckled, once, a snort of surprise. “No, you won’t hurt me.” He put a hand up, and gripped her muzzle. Pulling her head down, he patted her cheeks, running a finger over her lips, around her nostrils, up over her eyes. “Wow, you guys are fierce, aren’t you?”
She warbled at him, chirruping and growling inquisitively. He chuckled again.
“I have no idea what you said, but if you want to examine me, go ahead, lady.” He stepped back a little, and held his arms out, moving very slowly as his motion seemed to spook her. Eventually, she stood up, towering over him, to sniff through his hair, down his back, she even sniffed his armpits. It tickled, he giggled, which led to *her* giggling, a whuffling chirrup recognizable in any species. This made the second karnakian next to her finally open up a little. Holding out his hand, he took the second raptor’s hands — a male’s, he reckoned — in his own, inspecting the claws. “Not hard to see how this could kill a man,” John commented glibly, “but I know you wouldn’t. We’ve seen that, had it proven time and time again.”
John looked up to see, to his surprise, tears forming in the eyes of the raptor he was conversing with. “It’s… okay,” he said awkwardly. “I forgive you. You didn’t know what you were doing and everything went to hell. It was a tragedy, but… it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
The raptor seemed to know what he was saying for in a very human-like display, he suddenly collapsed and started sobbing. He fell on the floor, curling up into a large ball of scales and feathers and tears and stayed that way. Very carefully, because he truly did not want to get hurt by accident, John kneeled next to the creature and leaned against him as the raptor warble-chirp-growled his way through some sort of explanation or apology or just entreaties to *forgive*.
“See how fragile they are?” Samuel asked, looking down at the kneeling John.
“I… do. They could kill us between breaths and I wouldn’t know I was dead until what was left of me hit the floor, but they can *hurt* in a way I never expected.”
“More than us humans, in some ways. So, do you still want to quit, or do you want to keep doing the most important job in the world?”
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[Berentz] was getting worried. His New Best Friend [John] had not been around for the last few days. He’d been needed for some special occasion off-station with [Friend Samuel], but had returned… although with some sort of illness.
[Berentz] knew that the little human had been given to them by [Friend Samuel] so they could help him, and [Berentz] loved to help. The thought of [John] all alone made his heart ache. There was nothing for it. He took a deep breath, then activated the call function on his implant. The call was idle for a few long seconds, before it was actually picked up!
“[Friend John, are you there? Is everything alright?]”
“[Berentz]? It’s good to hear from you. Do you want to come up?”
The dorarizin had never been to John’s quarters before, this was a Special Day indeed! He almost broke the sound barrier barrelling through the station — receiving at least one Failure To Observe Surroundings personal demerit as he did so — to get to the human’s home. The door opened outwards, and… [Berentz] squealed with delight. John was dressed like a tiny little pup! He had on a single one-piece item of clothing, which included paws and feet, that hung loosely on his frame. A neat, hefty zipper up the front went to his chin, which was just peeking out under an adorable hood, complete with ears, that, along with the tail, made him look like the single cutest thing in all of existence. He was dressed as a dorarizin! They made [human] clothes to help [humans] look like [dorarizin]! This was the best of all possible things!
“[You did not tell me, Friend John, that you have clothes like this!]”
“This?” John indicated his all-body outfit and shrugged. “It’s my favourite [kigurumi]. I need it to sleep when I’ve got a bit of a fever, like now. It’s okay for you though, you can’t get human diseases. Come in, come in. I was going to call, but I’ve been tired.”
[Berentz] was shocked and worried. He impulsively moved to pull the small human to him, sniffing his friend to check on him. “[You do seem to be tired, friend John. Are you sure you will be alright? That this disease is not fatal?]”
John couldn’t help but giggle as the dorarizin snuffled at him, the huge creature’s nose and fur tickling. “I’m fine! I’m fine! It’s just a cold. We get them from time to time. Actually, I might need you to do me a favour, would that be alright?”
[Berentz] practically vibrated with urgency. “[Anything!]”
“I need scenting, and I can’t get that sulking around here alone. Do you think… I’m too tired for proper work today, but if you could take me in, I could see everyone, let them know I’m doing alright, and you could all make sure I’m properly scented, would that be okay? You’d have to carry me though. It’s a long way to walk and I’m exhausted just getting out of bed.”
[Berentz] was breathing heavily, tail a blur that threatened to knock down several trees with the tornado it was developing. “[I… I… I could hold you?]”
“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to if you don’t—” John started. This was swiftly followed by an “oof!” as he was almost crushed by the giant-dire-wolf-hug.
“[Do not worry, friend John! I will carry you to the pack! I will make sure you are safe and well the whole day! I will show you to Whurgur and Grawaj and Droogroh and...]” [Berentz] lifted the poorly human up, two paws under his armpits as he continued speaking, *very* carefully, and held him at arms length for a moment. Then he hugged the softness to his chest. It was just like his own pups, which he hadn’t seen in far too long. It was hard on a Dad to be away from the little ones, and having a tiny little almost-pup to hold was… [Berentz’] tail wagged in a blur of motion. He had an idea.
“[Excuse me, friend John, this will make our trip much easier… do you have a bedsheet and some safety pins or string?]”
“Closet, third shelf?” replied the confused John. His confusion was cleared up a few moments later as [Berentz], with the ease of one who had mastered it long ago, tied himself up in the sheet to create a very, very basic pup-carrying sling, which John was placed into.
“[Now we are ready! You will be safe and it will be much easier to get around!]” the dorarizin said, loudly and enthusiastically, as he turned and left the apartment, proxy-pup safely stowed.
John chuckled to himself at the looks he got from the relatively few other humans. To them he looked ridiculous, but not to the dorarizin; he would give the dads something they would otherwise miss during their time away from the pups. He could stand a little bit of humiliation if it made the world a little bit better for the dorarizin and other xenos that so desperately wanted to live and work alongside the humans, but were so afraid of hurting them.
And besides, the dorarizin kigurumi was *far* more comfortable than his usual suit.