Émilie
“Are you sure that they are treating you well? Nothing weird happened?” A concerned man was saying from beyond the screen of one of the only human terminals on board of the “The-Curious-Wanderer-Seeking-Veracity”. “Are you eating enough ? No one is making suspicious advances on you? Do yo-“
“Mon nounours! Let the girl speak! You know that we only have a limited time ahead of us for these calls, so one thing at a time and let her answer!” A woman interjected and made herself visible on screen. “Sorry Émilie. You know how your father is. You have the floor ma puce.”
She could only chuckle. Even with her this far from home, It was good to see her parents still being the same. An overly doting and protecting dad, and a firm matron to supervise him and the household.
“Hi Mom. Hi Dad. Glad to see you’re the same as always. It’s your girl, alive and well somewhere in space.” Émilie answered with a smile, a smile met by a sigh and a stern look from her parents (guess which from who). “Alright alright. Yes. They have been treating me well, I’m living the princess life! Never short on food -although the fab can’t really replicate the taste of home, but Sar is doing his best to make up for this-, I can sleep 10 hours each night and still be on time for work, I get hours of entertainment free time each day… It’s pretty much the French dream life-scheduling wise. As for the weird… well, I see new things every day, and all my co-workers are aliens so… yeah! Some weird stuff here and there but nothing wrong so far!”
“See nounours, you worry too much.” Her mom said.
“Yes, yes. It’s just… I heard some nasty rumours about some of them up there being a tad too tactile. And if any of those giant aliens try to land their hands, paws, or whatever other appendages, on my only daughter! I’m going to make the 2025 riots look like a fucking joke next to the chaos I’ll raise!” Her dad shot back, his eyes burning with spite only a French can muster.
“Ah! Must be the doggos.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Dorarizins, dad. I don’t have time for an in-depth presentation, but the gist is that they rely a lot on scent for social interactions. And humans are apparently scentless, so to avoid any weird interactions the crew have to scent-mark me every few days or so. AND! Before you start a xenocide crusade, it’s not like that. Just… Just think of it as cuddling with a big dog -like the neighbour’s Saint-Bernard for example-, then all the other dogs know with whom you’ve been in contact with. It may come in handy if I’m ever lost or stuff like that.”
“I get it, I get it...”
“And Captain Celes makes for a superb pillow!”
“Just be saf- WHAT?” her father choked before being evicted from the stream by her mom to avoid long hours of rant.
“Stop playing with your dad’s heart ma puce. I’m the one who has to console him after.” Émilie’s mom interfered.
“Sorry mom. By the way, did you record the show I’ve asked you to? I couldn’t catch it live since we were in a jump, and I was hoping I could watch it during the next one.”
Anne sighed. “Of course I did, you’ve never asked for much so the least I could do is fetch the small and rare errands you send our way. Although, I still can’t understand you, you have the real deal up there, so why do you want this kind of show?” She said as she uploaded the file to her daughter.
“I just think it’s funny. And I need something to disconnect my brain after hours of scientific discoveries!” Émilie answered.
“[Attention crew. Jump in T-10 minutes. I repeat, Jump in T-10 minutes. Get to your stations. Bridge over.]” cut the familial discussion.
“Welp, it seems I have to go. Give my regards to everyone. Take care of dad for me. I know he was against me leaving home for this job.”
“Will do, don’t worry ma puce. Say hello to your friends from us, and don’t forget to call us once you arrive. Des bisous!” She said, waving at the camera.
“Bye mom!” Émilie waved back before ending the call.
A smile was creeping up on her face. She had the goods. Next human media time will be fun. Or perhaps she should wait for a few days, to build up the hype. Yes! That seems like a plan.
She will have more time to think about it, for now she should hurry to her workstation.
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Krrelehs-of-Bracken
“{Status report !}” She shouted from her seat on the bridge. The immediate moment after a jump was always stressful. It’s when you’re not instantly reduced to elemental particles but still need to make sure you are not going to be turned into them in the near-ish future.
“[Engine: Orange]”
“[Shield: Orange]”
“[Life-Support: Orange]”
“[Sensors: Orange]”
“[Med-bay and all living spaces: Orange as well]” all the stations roared back in unison.
“{Good. Keep it that way. We’re entering jump shifts. Team 1, you have the bridge.}” Krrelehs said, leaving her seat for her second in command to take the reins of the operations.
Once out of the deck, she let go a sigh she did not know she was holding and pinched the bridge of her nose.
While the status of her ship was very much orange, the one of her mood was not. But she could not let that transpire to the crew.
The reason? Quite simple in fact. It was heat season again, and she still was not bonded to anyone. Something her family did not miss to remind her by sending photos of her youngest sister 12th child, along a card that could be resumed as “When you?”. Nothing like a ship full of pheromones and peer pressure from across the galaxy to make you feel like shit…
‘I can’t show favouritism by picking someone from my crew; an exploration vessel isn’t a place to raise children; no dad It’s not a phase; I know that I’m already 137 years old; of course I want pups it’s just not the right time or place; and I already have Émilie.’ She inner-monologued. Or perhaps that was just coping. Who knows. Certainly not her.
Talking about Émilie, she should check on her. To make sure she was fine. Who knows how the warp jump affect the tiny-chompers. She has seen at least 2 post jump spontaneous combustion videos and god how many “instant karma” ones (whatever karma may mean) on the GalNet. There was no harm in checking.
Yes. She was checking on her because of genuine concern. Not as a way to escape her current train of thoughts.
“{What is wrong with me?}”
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Krrelehs-of-Bracken found their resident tiny-chomper in the labs, giggling by herself. She was not on fire. Nor was the spectrophotometer. Good. But the giggles were concerning. She was pretty sure that it was not the first time she saw Émilie act that way but couldn’t remember exactly the last time it happened.
“{If I can’t remember it, then it wasn’t important.}” she mumbled before making her presence known. “{Ah Émilie, there you are!}”
“[Hello Captain, what can I do for you ?]” the tiny-chomper answered, lifting her head from the mess of note-papers that was scattered across half her part of the lab.
“{Just checking on you crew after a jump, the usual. I heard something laughing like a maniac, so I went to see who it was.}” She lied.
“[Well, live sensor feed of a warp jump is pretty much every astrophysicist’s wet dream back home, I’m no exception.]” Émilie said. “[That, and I got a ‘gift’ from back home! Can’t wait to open it.]”
‘Oh? A gift she said. We haven’t stop by an outpost for weeks, so it must be digital. A new series perhaps? Sounds promising.’ Krrelehs thought.
“{And what would that gift be ?}”
“[It’s a secret!]” She answered with an ear-to-ear grin.
“{You dare keep secrets from me? The very captain of this ship?}” Krrelehs declared in a faux-offended tone. “{That will not stand! I guess I’ll have to keep you company until you spill your Dirt-haricot-seeds.}”
And in a swift motion, Krrelehs reached for Émilie’s position, sat down next to the comically small desk for someone of her size, and put the intern on her lap before hugging and resting her head over the caramel hair of the human. Thus acting as a sofa-workchair-furcoat-cage! Of course, the goal was not to prevent Émilie from working, so she made sure to not impede the tiny-chomper ability to take notes.
“[*smol-squeal of surprise* CAPTAIN!]”
Émilie struggled a bit, but quickly resigned to her fate and returned to her note taking. Giving in the to distraction would give more reasons to Krrelehs to later abuse exercise her authority for hugs. That much she understood. Giving the Dorarizin captain some hours of chilling before she was ultimately called back to the bridge for duty reasons, leaving without ever learning what the gift was.
“{It was good while it lasted… I’ll have to tell the other about that ‘gift’ of her. I hope it will make for a great movie night. Keep your head cool, and don’t overthink about your situation.}”
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2 days later
Ahzassn’han
The doctor was slithering happy in the ship corridors. No one was dumb enough to stick a part of their body in machinery today, which meant he has the evening free (unless emergency of course). And tonight was another warm-cuddle movie night. ‘Hmmm Life is good.’
Carelessly striding by the mess hall to quickly grab his snacks, Ahzassn’han run snoot first into someone upon reaching its door. Someone who didn’t budge on impact. Sser’Sarkxess the ship’s chef, holding a chiller, and looking absolutely unfazed by the incident.
It was not every day that you could see Sser’Sarkxess outside the kitchen, despite being the upscaled on-steroids version of a gaboon viper and towering over everyone by easily two heads, the old marron Jornissian preferred the calm of being alone at the stovetop to the effervescence of the rest of the ship. His bulk coupled to the fact that he lost a good part of his tail somewhere -you know how it is, many of us have some operation theatres under their belt- meant that he was more akin to a tree trunk than a serpent. To quote Émilie’s words: “[An Absolute unit!]”.
“
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“
Everyone not on duty were already there, chitchatting between each other and waiting for the session to start. Everyone except Krrelehs-of-Bracken who was sitting front row, silent, fur puffed into a ball and pupils dilated fixing the stream. She still had enough a modicum of composure left to gracefully accept and thank Sser’Sarkxess for the ice cream before returning to her mutism.
‘She’s having it rough this year.’ The doctor thought before coiling on his seating spot.
“[WHO WERE THEY?]” the speakers suddenly blasted.
“
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Émilie
‘Tactical plushies fort; check. Humongous plate of nachos in arms reach; check. Ritual T-shirt -Praise our Dark Lord Caffeine-; also check. Door secured and communication bead on mute; check check and re-check.’ Émilie mentally checked her movie night starter protocols. It was once more time to dabble in the sheer stupidity only her kind could produce.
She started the video file her mother sent her way during their last call and jumped back into her bed to enjoy the show.
“WHO WERE THEY?”
“WHY DID THEY COME?”
“WHAT DID THEY LEAVE BEHIND?”
“WHERE DID THEY GO?”
“WILL THEY RETURN?(yes, yes they did)”
“ANCIENT ALIENS. RESTARTED.”
A familiar face.
“Welcome friends of Earth and of everywhere else ! Welcome to the 2nd episode of this season Ancient Aliens Restarted. As promised in our last meeting, our quest of knowledge is bringing us to the Mediterranean basin where I hope we will bring light upon secrets of the ancients. My name is Giorgio Tsoukalos the 5th.; alien enthusiast and truth seeker. As always, I come bearing questions, and with the help of eminent scientists and historians, hopefully answers as well.”
“Alright, what will it be this time? I’ve bet 20 on the Greek astronomers’ knowledge being salvaged from a lost probe. Don’t let me down!” She said. Deep inside, she knew that no one would ever win these stupid bets, for no one can predict the Ayys-man. But it was good fun nonetheless.
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Krrelehs-of-Bracken
“[Welcome friends of [Dirt] and of everywhere else ! Welcome to the 2nd episode of this season of Ancient Aliens Restarted…]”
‘[Yay!!! More [Human] conspiracies about us!]’ the crew spoke in unison. Last time, they got to pull that genius prank on Tk’Suig’tz thanks to that show. With chance, a similar opportunity could appear with this night episode.
“{No!!! More Tiny-chompers conspiracies about us!}” the captain let go between two spoons of ice cream. The memory and consequences of the last time this man appeared on screen still fresh in her mind.
“[… I am the son of the son of the son of the son of [Giorgo Tsoukalos]; alien enthusiast and truth seeker. As always, I come bearing questions, and with the help of eminent scientists and historians, hopefully answers as well.
Tonight we’ll explore the stories of multiple figures of the Old-World-Central-Sea basin myths across the ages and lay bare for you to see new pieces of the puzzle to, hopefully, shed away some of the mysteries regarding these beings and the impact they had on our specie.
Our travel will first take us to Ancient-desert-rock-triangle-land to learn about [Wepwawet] and her true role; before moving to Old-pizza-boot-empire to revisit its foundation myth from the [Capitolina She-Wolf Lupa] point of view; and we will finish with a trip following [Asena] and the birth of the Tiny-chompers Migratory-ancestor-celestial-kebab.]”
Krrelehs shot a look back at Tk’Suig’tz, gauging the Karnakian reaction. He looked torn between his anticipation for tiny-chomper forbidden knowledge and anxiety over what happened last time. She would not blame him. At least this time he was not the sole raptor in the room… That way, if the fault would fall on his kind again, he could deflect the issue onto others. The kid was learning. Good.
“[--- EPISODE 2 : [Wepwawet], [Lupa] & [Asena], or the Dorarizin moms of civilization theory ---]”
“{May The-Throne-at-The-Center-of-All-Things have mercy of my soul!}” She sighed, should this stream have the best of her.
Her only hope, having enough ice cream for the full length of the documentary.
“[As usual, let us start with what we know. [Wepwawet] is almost always depicted as a wolf person at the prow of what the ancient called a “solar-boat”. A wolf imagery reinforced by the name of her cult center Asyut, or Lycopolis as the First-democratic-people of old named it. The ‘city of wolves’.”] Giorgo narrated, the video zooming over a reconstitution of ancient Egypt to finally land where the city was (and still is today), showing the gallery a rendering of life back then.
“[According to most Ancient-desert-rock-triangle-land lore scientists, her name means “The one that opens the way” or “The one that open the sky”. Many concur on her role being something akin to a scout. And from what we gathered from the desert-rock-triangle texts; she was the symbol of authority of the first ruler. It is said that she trained him from a young age on the art of the hunt, using a sharp arrow more powerful than the all the other gods alone.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
We already touched on the Ancient-desert-rock-triangle-land myths and deities a lot during our previous seasons so we will try to keep this part short and straight to the point.]”
“{I do not like where this is going. What stretched train of thoughts did those tiny rascals put together this time?}” Krrelehs asked herself.
“[Given the pieces we have, I think we can make fair assumption. We have already talked a lot about solar-boat being spaceships in old episodes, and one of the meanings of her name really cement the idea of [Wepwawet] coming from space. Add to that the art of the Hunt and advanced weaponry, and I think we can get a pretty accurate idea of whom that person may have been. There isn’t that many species of space wolf up there.
The question remains over why she decided to groom the first ruler. But I believe we will be able to explain that behaviour by the end of our travels. The attentive ones will be quick to ask why we didn’t tackle the second meaning of her name or her role as a scout. Good, that means you are following. Keep those points in mind, they will become relevant later.]” Giorgo continued as the ancient Egypt rendering faded away to have the camera focus anew of the show host and his cast of guests.
----------------------------------------
Émilie
“Aw Man!” she said while glancing over her datapad to see a notification that her bank account did indeed lose 20 on the balance. Those damn bets, you never expect to win, but you never play to lose either…
She may as well go check the betting pool, to see if someone won the prize. And to her surprise, someone manage to pull it off. Of course one of the degenerates back home put a bid on “Furry Dommy Mommy”.
“I guess Earth millionaires club now count an extra furry in their ranks. New porn will be created, and some artists will have the money to pay their bills. And the cycle of life continues.”
*sigh*
“Well, at least no one else is seeing that show. It feels like they only scratched the surface…” Émilie pondered. “It’s not really the season to screw with the doggos’ minds either.”
The show resumed with Professor Hasekura taking the lead for the next segment. “We are now moving to Rome, Italy, to focus over the foundation myth of the Roman Empire. Most of us are familiar with the tale of Romulus and Remus, the fact that they were discarded as babies into the Tiberis river and saved by Lupa the she-wolf. She licked them clean of the mud and lowered her teats to the crying and starving babies.” The video showing the statue of the Capitoline wolf.
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Ahzassn’han
The crew’s reaction to the statue was… conflicted. It ranged from Karnakian amazement over human bronze art, to Jornissian disgust at the sight of sucking a beast teats, passing by the Dorarizin embarrassed and/or aroused looks they were giving each other (the statue clearly playing weirdly in their head with the heat season going on).
For the Captain, it seemed like the universe was pulling a cruel joke to her. Reminding her constantly of having pups despite her best efforts to not think about it. And despite the fact that topic of Émilie’s documentary being far from pleasant for her mental health, she was oddly fixated on it.
“[After a while, a shepherd happened upon the scene in the course of tending his flock, he ran to tell his companions, and a group gathered to witness the remarkable sight. The twins were clinging to her as she was their true mother; the tale recall. [Lupa] was nonplussed when the men began making a ruckus to scare her off.]” Professor Hasekura continued.
“[She then withdrew into a cave that was sacred to the Greek colonists who had formerly lived in the area and held an altar to an avatar the nature god [Pan].
Now, you may be asking yourself how any of this has any links whatsoever with the topic of today. For that, you need to see past the stylistic devices of the old and rationalize the tale. What would drive a she-wolf to brave a storm and a flooding river, risking death, in order to save two babies that aren’t from her specie ? That question gets a partial answer if we assume the wolf was sentient, it would just have been the right thing to do.]”
“
“[Would she had been a standard lone wolf; don’t you think that a group of peasants would have been enough to drive her away from the children ? But [Lupa] did not fear them, or perhaps they could not do anything to her that would have mattered.
I think the answer lies with the grotto she was inhabiting: the [Lupercal] cave. Said to hold an altar to an avatar of the Ancient-philosophes-in-toga people nature god, it has been lieu of worshipping the wolves from a long time. Since the Greek colons arrival in fact. Some Old-pizza-boot-empire historians hypothesized that they brought the [Pan] custom with them, but with built the temple for one of its avatars only? What if the avatar was already here when they first arrived? What if they misunderstood the presence of a Dorarizin for an apparition of their god.]”
Giorgo took over. “[It would certainly help explaining the behaviour of [Lupa]. A Dorarizin would not let children die if she could prevent it. Her maternal instincts and our close enough biologies would have allowed her to take care of the orphans. And the farmers of the time would lack both the courage and tools to oppose what they thought was the very long-lived literal incarnation of a god.]”
“
“[But was her act truly motivated by motherly compassion? Or was it part of something greater?]” Hasekura said, fixing the camera.
“
But while he and a decent chunk of the people present were having a blast, the thought of warm-cuddle babies sucking, not a random beast mammary, but on Dorarizin tits did not miss to make many cringes. Except Rdzi-of-Npieskr at the back who was rocking a grin like she was the first Dorarizin to get the role of the Joker; that deviant bitch! The captain still has not allowed her to be alone with Émilie. For obvious reasons.
Talking about the captain, Ahzassn’han decided to check on her to assess her condition. Not much change. Just bloodshot eyes and a lot less ice cream remaining.
“
“[Our viewers may still be confused, but the pieces are falling together. Everything will be revealed in time, do not worry! And to get the final block of the puzzle, time for us to look into another foundation myth: the one of [Asena].]” The narrator voiced over the map of Earth reappearing, de-zooming from Rome and moving to focus over minor Asia, announcing the start of the next and final segment of this episode.
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Krrelehs-of-Bracken
This show was starting to seriously mess with her brain. Krrelehs caught herself dreaming quitting her job and moving to an agri-world at the edge of colonized space to raise tiny-chompers in serenity.
She had to pull herself together. She was the captain of the “The-Curious-Wanderer-Seeking-Veracity”. She had to remain strong. And so she reached for her comfort food…
Gone. All Gone.
The 30 litres. *poof* Vanished. Did she really eat all that without noticing? The empty chiller and the sudden brain freeze told her yes.
She sighed. She will have to endure the remaining of the show without distractions. Talking about it, the map of [Dirt] was now highlighted a bit more east then in the previous segment. Before moving further east as the narration restarted, stopping roughly around nowadays west edge of Fake-red-no-time-zones-country.
“[The tale of [Asena] started 4 or so [hundreds-of-Dirt-revolutions-around-Sol] after tiny-chomper Baby-salvation-son-of-God in central Big-northern-eastern-continent. The legend tells of a bloody battle which a young boy miraculously survived. But wounded and lost, he was saved by a blue-maned she-wolf.]” the video showing a Terran wolf with a bright sky-blue fur. A colour that felt… artificial on the animal.
“[She took the wounded child with her, nursed him back to health, and took him over mountains and sea to bring him to safety in her cave. So far, a pretty standard tale, but it is the boy actions following his rescue that set it apart from the previous two. Do any of our guests have of idea of what he may have done?]” Hasekura said with a mischievous smile.
“[I’m sure he made his ancestors proud!]” one of the tiny-chompers on the sofa said, followed by laughs from the rest of cast.
“[Perhaps he was a prince, and he gave her riches for saving his life.]” Some Jornissians, who clearly watch too much soap operas for her taste, were discussing.
“[Maybe he started to worship her? After all, the two previous stories were about gods.]” A Karnakian interrupted the others. A valid point thought Krrelehs.
“{HE FUCKED HER GOOD!}” shouted Rdzi-of-Npieskr from the back of the room.
Krrelehs’ head made an instant 180° turn like a fucking owl. Her eyes filled with disgust for the person who dared to pronounce aloud such blasphemy against the innocent marvel that were tiny-chompers. Many among her crew seemed to agree on her disgust.
“[He impregnated her!]” At the mention of which the Captain head snapped back into place, now focused on Professor Hasekura’s speech. “[Giving her 10 healthy pups. Said children founded the [Ashena] clan, forefathers of the Migratory-ancestor-celestial-kebab people, and thus of the modern Old-World-Central-Sea-kebab Tiny-chompers by extension.]”
“{OUR SPECIES ARE COMPATIBLE?}” she exclaimed over the sounds of crewmates vomiting their last hour of snacks. Her gallons of ice cream tickling the back of her throat to join the fiesta as well.
“[And before you bunch of lonely desperate degenerates start booking flights for space. Let me make things clear. No, our species are not biologically compatible. Although, given the tech level of her friends up there, perhaps she acted as a surrogate mother of sort for the young man seeds.]”
“[But why?]” Giorgo asked the question that was on everyone lips.
“[Why indeed? That’s the moment when we try to connect the dots, tiny-chomper 5th-gen-alien-enthusiast. Remember how [Wepwawet]’s name meaning could be interpreted as her being a scout, “The one who opens the way”. But the way to who? To other Dorarizins.
These persons are separated by enough time that we can say with certitude that they were different individuals. Please also note that, with the time passing, each influence they had over the progenitors of entire civilizations started more and more early.
From a young boy, to literal babies, to bearing the children themselves.
The descendants of the people they touched spreading and multiplying generations after generations…]”
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Émilie
“Would they have not altered us in some way while influencing our growth? Think Giorgo, Think! If the goal was only to uplift us, they would have sent more people. But no. Always lone agent acting as motherly figure.” The professor continued to build up the hype.
“Perhaps it was an experiment. A subtle change in our nature, that needed a long time to blend and become invisible. Imagine, Egyptians from the 4th Dynasty and all of their descendants, the Roman empire and all the places it reached, and the Turks spread over almost all of Asia… Given time and migration, having almost everyone genetics changed could be possible. Each intervention was to test how early they could change us -as early as the gametes it seems- and to create a new source from which the mutation could spread.”
“But Professor, what would be the change in question?” Giorgo asked.
“It may sound far-fetched, but I think they made us resemble their children in some respects. All the tales spun around the concept of motherhood and raising us into fully fledged people. Perhaps they used us to train future mothers in childcare. Just give a human pet to a young lady to teach her about responsibilities and stuff, our lifespan being so different, the human would die by the time she would have kids and she would not suffer from first-born parental stress.”
“So, you’re saying that they made secret incursions on Earth to genetically engineered us into being pup-handling training dummies?”
“Yes!” Hasekura acquiesced.
“Fascinating!”
Émile nearly choke on her soda. What the heck was that? How do they manage to give you all the keys of their twisted reasoning, and still produce an unforeseen theory at the end?
“What kind of drugs are they on? Because man! I want the same.”
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Ahzassn’han
The rec room n°2 was in chaos. The audacity of that warm-cuddle and his descriptions turned the room into a pool of vomit and tears. And Ahzassn’han had to resume his role as a doctor earlier than expected, providing emotional relief to the Karnakians (Tk’Suig’tz was still in shock after learning about the notion of intercourse with humans existing), medical aid to the idiots choking on their snacks, and mops to the other to start cleaning the place.
He only stopped upon seeing the new state of his captain.
Krrelehs’ fur was back to normal, dignity returned to her face, and a new light was burning in her eyes. She seemed… Enlightened.
She strolled gently across the room and towards the exit, not paying any mind to the mess surrounding her.
“
“[Ahzassn’han. I finally understand. They smell like new-born pups BECAUSE they were made that way! Now if you excuse me, I have a lost child to take care of.]” She answered, not even stopping her course before finally leaving the room.
“
“
The giant Jornissian nodded and left to pursue the captain. Slowly. Which was surely as fast as he could, given his injured tail. Or maybe he did not see the need to hurry.
With that out of the way, Ahzassn’han returned his attention to the people. The warm-cuddle show was still running its course and he needed to prevent idiots from choking on whatever they were stress-eating at this point. That and breathing exercises from the Karnakian.
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Émilie
Émilie’s brain was still captured by the amount of insane bullshitery going on in this episode of Ancient Aliens, so she didn’t pay attention to the increasingly loud footsteps going her way.
“Still, it doesn’t explain why the Dorarizins did not come sooner, Professor.”
“Giorgo, you forgot that their lifespan is far longer than ours, the few millennia that the experiment had been going on may just be a very short amount of time for them overall. They needed to wait until the mutation spread everywhere, plus the population had to grow for them to have a bigger stock available. Last century cases of people being spirited away may just have been some sample collecting for their investors. You know, to test the quality of the products.”
“Hmm. A well-constructed theory, as always, Professor. Only the future will tell if you were right today. We’re closing in on our time together this week, Any last thing to add, Professor Hasekura?”
“I think I have rested my case over the topic! We’ll have to see if First Contact force them to revaluate their plans and if any childcare roleplay job offers appear over the GalNet. Reminder to the people to stay civil in the debates, I saw the threads covering our previous episode, and a warzone was more civilized than that. Anger will not help us find the truth! It only leads to the dark side and getting owned by Mickey Mouse. Remember to believe too.”
“I think we all want to. On these wise words, keep a look at the job offers, and I bid you all a good night. I give you rendezvous next time for an in-depth exposé over cycle-of-life iconography, will you be able to predict of whom we will talk about?” Giorgo concluded.
*outro song & credits*
“That was a trip and a half.” Émilie giggled. “Amazed that professor managed to say all that without losing it. Like, at which point the farce is too much. Or perhaps they did multiple takes? Anyway, the dude could have run for an office back before FC with that level of confidence behind his nonsense-“
“[LOCK STATUS: OPEN! CLEARANCE OVERWRITTEN! CAPTAIN AUTHORITY!]” interrupted her as the door of her room flashed open, letting a very determined Dorarizin enter the place.
“Captain what are you doi-“ Émilie managed to say before getting picked up, alongside her mattress and blanket, into a comfy but tight burrito hold and carried outside of her quarters.
Surprised.
“Are you high?”
“[…]”
Confused.
“C-Captain?”
“[…]”
Scared.
“Celes?”
Through it all, the Dorarizin captain remained silent. Her gaze fixed onwards, determined with a purpose unknown to Émilie. Unable to do anything, she fell into mutism, her hind mind screaming at her to use the possum tactics.
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Krrelehs-of-Bracken
She now was moving with conviction she never had before. Focused on her task and nothing else. Any superfluous thoughts removed.
“[Are you high?]”
‘Pup secured!’
“[C-Captain?]”
‘Return to den!’
“[Celes?]”
‘MUST PROTECC!’
“[…]”
Good. Whoever it was, they stopped trying to speak to her. She did not know who was calling, but no matter. She did not have time to converse. She had to reach her quarters, put the child to safety, and hold the place. Her mind was still hazy for some reasons, but that much she knew!
With no one impeding her, Krrelehs quickly crossed the ship to her room. But to her surprise, her door was barred off. By none other than a member of her crew. The betrayal! Stopping only a few meters before the obstacle, she finally confronted the old Jornissian.
“{Out of the way [Sser’Sarkxess], I am in no mood for games at the moment. Let me enter my quarters.}” She growled to the fool daring to stand in front of her.
“[Neither am I, Captain. But I cannot do so.]”
“{Oh? Humour me. Why?}” She asked, ready to pounce at the first gap in Sser’Sarkxess’ defences.
“[You are scaring [Émilie].]”
“{Of course she’s scared. She’s a lost child!}”
“[You didn’t hear me. YOU are scaring [Émilie].]” he retorted, putting the emphasis of the cause of the scare.
With that said, she finally looked down at her package. Focusing on the small and frail being wrapped up in blankets, she could only feel one thing. Shivers. And not the one when you’re cold.
By the time she looked up again, Sser’Sarkxess had closed the gap and was holding an atomizer to her face. Her face was doused in a chemical spray before she got the time to react. She recoiled at the sharp pain of getting sprayed in the fucking eyes and jumped back, dropping her hot potato in the process. A hot potato quickly secured behind the broad back of the veteran Jornissian.
The pain quickly faded away, but her vision remained blurry, and her senses felt… duller. She felt her legs gave up under her own weight and fell to her knees, holding the corridor handrail to avoid going any further down…
She could hear some distorted voices before giving in to the heaviness and closing her eyes.
“[Will she be fine?]”
“[Don’t worry warm-cuddle syrup-catastrophe-space-lover, it’s just sedative and some hormones neutralizer to bring her back to her normal self.]”
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Krrelehs opened back her eyes. Rolled her shoulders. Breath in… and out. In… and out. Her mind felt clear. She turned to face the chef. “{How long was I out?}”
“[Less than five minutes. Feeling better, captain?]”
“{Very much so. Sorry for the outburst, I do not know what took over me.}” she lied, she kinda had the gist of what went into that emotional cocktail of madness.
“[I’m not the one to whom you should apologize and give an explanation.]” Sser’Sarkxess said, clearly nonplussed by the situation -how cold was this man- and pointing to a little head peeking from behind his hood. Émilie.
Meeting the tiny-chomper’s eyes, her ears flattened over her head, and she tried to be as small as possible. She tried to repress the guilt and shame of what happened, only for the pain to strike back tenfold at her. She couldn’t sustain the gaze of the terrified blanket-clad human. Tears came and she tried to flee to her room like a coward.
“{I-… Sorry.}” was all she could say as she passed by Émilie.
But before she could reach the door, she felt a tiny hand grabbing her tail.
“[Would you- Do you want to talk about it?]”
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Émilie
“[You’re courageous, girl. I’ll give you that much. But are you sure you want to do this? You were shaking like a hatchling with no warmth seconds ago.]” Sser’Sarkxess interrupted.
“I was afraid of her weird state earlier, yes. But I have nothing to fear from the normal captain!”
“[Want to take the sedative spray with you?]”
“Nah, I think she’s calm enough now. Although, feel free to stay by the door with it if you think it’s safer. But no spying! It’s time for Celes and me to have a girl talk.” Émilie added before pulling Krrelehs by the hand into her room. “Come on big girl!”
Once inside and away from the prying ears, they sat on Krrelehs’ bed. And for a while, they just hugged. Émilie knew better than to force the issue, so she’ll wait. Wait for her friend to open to her.
Which she did after some time. Finally having someone to confess -someone who was not family, subordinate, Dorarizin, or Ahzassn’han-, the dams opened wide. In tears, she talked about her family, their increasingly incessant expectations for her to have kids, her inner conflict between following her maternal urges and her duty as a captain, the current heat session and how the full ship was giving her headaches because of the males’ scents everywhere, her anxiety over not being pack-bonded yet at her age, the taste of French vanilla ice cream, and how she broke down and almost committed the unforgiving.
In return, Émilie talked about her parents, her overzealously protective dad and all the times he hunted down her boyfriend down the street with bread knife, her strict but caring mom and her delicious cherry clafoutis, time in science college, which flavour syrup she thought of using on the spectrophotometer next time, the trick to make good crepes, how she loved being part of the crew, tips to get a man she learned from her grandma, and what she felt during the recent kidnapping forced relocation.
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By the time Ahzassn’han had finished cleaning the rec room and dispersed the people back to their jobs, the documentary was long finished. He did well sending Sser’Sarkxess after the captain, his fears coming true moments later as he saw said captain doing a surprise hit-&-run warm cuddle abduction over the stream. He hoped the issue was resolved by now, but you are never better served than by yourself.
He finally regrouped with his Jornissian fellow, who was guarding the door of the captain’s quarters for some reasons.
“[Inside.]” the chef answered before he could even ask where Émilie was.
Opening the door, he found his friend sound asleep, on top of getting the legendary human lap-pillow + ear message combo.
“[What the-]”
He was shushed!
“Lower your voice. She’s finally asleep.”
“[Émilie, are you ok? What happened?]”
“Nothing serious. She was quite stressed and… Girls’ emotions are complicated you know. We had a good talk, and now everything is fine.” She smiled.
Ahzassn’han sighed in relief. No reports about being the first Senate vessel with a captain going rogue after kidnapping a human was to be made. “[Perhaps some days of respite are in order then. I’ll notify the bridge that she will be out of the loop at least until the end of the jump.]”
‘That’s for the best, Krrelehs clearly needed them.’ Émilie thought.
Then, with a grin on her face and in true French job-skipping fashion, she asked “Can I get sick days too?”