Krrelehs-of-Bracken
“{That was uncalled for, [Émilie].}” The captain stated as she and a select few were disembarking onto the Zephyr Station 12.
“[Perhaps it was. But she had it coming after all the crass jokes she made.]” the small human answered. “[After more than a year at the same workplace, you thought that you would have learned to behave…]”
“{Such is true. But if Rdzi-of-Npieskr misses the celebrations because of the punishment you gave her, you will be held accountable for that. Do you understand me young girl?}”
“[Don’t go and put the blame on me. If she reflects on herself, she’ll be able to attend my parents’ private party with us. Otherwise, she’ll have to go to the Zephyr common party for everyone in the lounge which lasts for the whole night. If she misses both, then it really isn’t my fault.]” Émilie answered, standing her ground against the massive Dorarizin giving her a stern look.
“[She’s in her right, Captain.]” the ruby Jornissian doctor interjected, interrupting the discussion. “[Asking her to play as a, quote, ‘fingered joy-puppet’ for one night isn’t of the best taste… Regardless, how long do we have until the meeting with your parents?]”
“[Well, the party will start around 7pm, so we have a few hours to stroll on the station. I’ll surely go straight to them to help with the set up and have some time alone with them before you get to meet them. No offense, but I need to brief them up on one or two things in advance.]”
“{Understandable.}” Krrelehs said, sighing at the separation from her tiny-chomper for some hours. A mood that did not escape the vigilant gaze of the young French.
“[Hey! No wimping! It won’t be long. Take that time to buy some souvenirs and meet other people. I’m sure there is plenty of tiny-chompers eager to talk to you all.]”
That statement was met by a nod from everyone present.
“[Good. Now, here’s the end of the boarding ramp. The commerce sector should be at the end of the lane E-8 to your right. Don’t cause any issues! Or do. It’s not really my problem. Just be aware of the droids if you try anything weird.]” She continued.
“{Yes. Yes. We’ll manage. We won’t keep you further, go meet your relatives!}” Krrelehs said, shooing her away.
With that said, Émilie started to jogtrot away deeper into the station, under the amused looks of her co-workers.
“[How do they remain so gracious and not fall down at every step will remain a mystery forever. Bless we may be for this sight.]” Tk’Suig’tz remarked. The young Karnakian plumage started to regrow since the Quetzalcoatl incident, although not fully yet, which gave him the look of a giant round tit more than a proud space murder-raptor. A state which, Émilie ascertained, would greatly help his relations with other littles-need-protecting.
“[The truth is that they are always falling. They just mastered the art of falling to a degree that they use it to move around.]” Ahzassn’han stated matter-of-factly, getting an awestruck look from the Karnakians present as if he just unveiled a holy truth to them.
“{Keep the boring stuff for later, [Ahzassn’han]. Now that the child is gone, it is time for shopping. What do you all want to buy?}”
“[The collector box of the integral of Warm-cuddle Doctor-Home.]” the doctor said immediately.
“[Knifes and cooking wares from Sunrise-polite-people-land, I heard they are quite good.]” Sser’Sarkxess followed suit.
“[A chef down to the core! Personally, I wish to purchase one of their calendars with little-need-protecting babies on it. That way, the sight will clean my soul every day and I will know in advance which things to celebrate with [Émilie].]” Tk’Suig’tz announced proudly, getting a few cheers from the group.
“{Nice [Tk’Suig’tz]. Don’t forget to share the events with us in advance. What about the rest of you?}” the captain asked, turning to the other invitees.
“[I want to find a long hand-knitted fluffy-cloud-mammal wool ‘toob’ as they call it, it seems really warm and they have a lot of hand-knitted products in this period of the year. Perhaps I can commission one?]” a Jornissian lady answered. “[Hopefully, they will have a shade that complement my scales.]”
From memory, Krrelehs remembered her as one of the newly hired scientists, but quiet as she usually is, she didn’t have much chance to interact with her... She seemed close to Émilie.
“[I’ll just get some miniatures of important landscapes and send them to my family; they have been bothering me to get some little-needs-protecting gewgaws for a while now…]” Pi’tchcceecci added. A buying prospect which seemed to get some approval nods from the rest of the Karnakians.
‘If they continue nodding to one another’s idea, they’ll end up using their whole pay in one go… Not my problem tho’ Sser’Sarkxess thought.
Two-three more ideas were thrown in the mix, adding the ever-growing list of human paraphernalia the crew wanted to bring back on board.
Alcohol and food were prime choices as well, and chocolates made their way into everyone’s baskets almost unbeknownst to them.
Hoping from shop to shop, Krrelehs was thankful that everyone became so engrossed with their buying prospect that they forgot to ask about what she was looking for. Making her way to the personal care boutique, she sneakily moved to catch one of the assistant’s attention.
Surprised by the sudden appearance of a giant murder-floof behind her, the female tiny-chomper quickly regained her composure and greeted her with a business smile.
“[Hello ma’am, what can I do to help you today?]”
“{Hello… Sorry for sneaking up on you, I… I wanted to know if you had brushes available for my people.}” She said softly, looking around to see if anyone overheard what she asked for.
“[Of course ma’am, after the construction of the Zephyr, we had to update our product range to meet the need of all four races. We have brushes tailor-made for Dorarizins, based on tiny-chompers design, upscaled of course, and with ultra-resistant metallic fibbers coated in detangling agents.]” the attendant said, showing Krrelehs to a vitrine exposing the said products.
“{Oh… These seem nice. But…}” the Dorarizin captain stated, before leaning forward to whisper to the ear of the tiny-chomper attendant. “{Can… Can I have them, same tech and all, but… But tiny-chomper sized?}”
The attendant just stood there silently, looking at her.
‘Shit, now she is suspicious. What have you done? What did you have to ask in such a sneaky manner? It’s not like it’s going to remain a secret for long anyway…’ she thought.
“{Hmm… Please keep that a secret, It’s for my use, but not for me to use.}” She tried to say for her defence.
The attendant smile beamed at her, somehow perfectly getting the message. “[Of course ma’am, we can have it made right now, or would you prefer we deliver it to your ship?]”
“{Right now please!}” She answered.
“[Alright, it shouldn’t get long. I will be back to you very soon. Please excuse me.]” said the tiny-chomper before going to the back of the shop, leaving Krrelehs alone to browse the shop and daydream about having her mane brushed in the meantime.
----------------------------------------
Asjesh’hass(?) aka. Ash
Nervously. A big blue Jornissian made his way downtown down the corridors of sector E. Fidgeting and mumbling quietly to himself.
‘You did it! This time you can attend. It has been 3 years since you arrived on the Zephyr, and you already managed to miss the most important warm-cuddles celebration twice. Once on duty, and the second time you slept through it. Idiot.’ He thought before being interrupted by an increasingly loud beeping sound coming from behind him.
Turning around to identify the source of this racket, what was his surprise to see a female Dorarizin running on all fours, bloodshot eyes and saliva drooling everywhere, chased by three security drones.
//[CEASEAGGRESIVEBEHAVIOUR! ALLFAILURETOCOMPLYWILLBEHELDAGAINSTYOU!]]// //[USEOFTHRIDCLASSWEAPONRYAUTHORIZED]//
Meeting her gaze, she quickly changed her course into a crash-colliding one with him.
“
“[SHOPS! WHERE?]” she roared.
Unsure of the best course of action, Ash just pointed down the corridor, hoping for the crazed Dorarizin to pass him and continue on her merry way.
Something that did not happen.
Stopping right in her tracks mere centimeters away from him, she continued her rambling.
“[AM LATE! HOW MUCH IS LEFT?]” she said, looking ready to kill.
‘Remember your emergency training on how to handle tourists and ‘Karens’ when you leave the docks.’ “
Upon hearing this, his interlocutor went from feral beast to proper maiden in half a second.
“[Oh! I wasn’t aware of that haha silly me. I was kinda busy prior boarding and forgot to read the pamphlets. Hi! I’m [Rdzi-of-Npieskr], nice to meet y-]” she managed to say before being cut short as the security drones finally closed the distance; and threw a volley of MWCNT-enhanced tazer heavy bolas “G0LD3N_P3RF3CT” mk.3 their way.
While technically non-lethal, these still hurt like heck, and were a good anti-recidivism as no one wanted to get shocked twice by them. Ash, as a member of this station, knew that much. Much to his displeasure as he was standing in the AoE of the bolas thanks to this lady Rdzi, being almost in contact with him.
He let go of a sigh and braced for the pain.
‘Why is the universe conspiring to prevent me from celebrating warm-cuddle [Christmas]?’ he thought.
Then sounds faded, and everything went black.
----------------------------------------
Émilie
Émilie was enjoying some well-deserved family time after months in space, helping her parents set up the table for their private Christmas party. A party that should have been between the three of them behind closed doors. Such plans were scrapped upon hearing the insistent plea from “The-Curious-Wanderer-Seeking-Veracity” crew to meet with their human’s family, a meeting approved by her father instantly (the man being interested in gauging his daughter’s entourage for quite some time now).
“Ma puce, knives go on the right. Forks on the left. Did you forget how to set a table?”
“Sorry mom, they don’t really use cutlery up there, and I only had to use disposable ones whenever the need arose. Say nothing of setting the table in the mess…” Émilie apologized, putting the tableware in their appropriate positions.
“It is okay. But while we’re on the topic, how many plates should we set?” her mom asked.
“Uhhh… us three, then captain Celes, Doctor Assan, Sar, two friends from the lab, Suez, Pitch and her mate… so eleven, plus or minus one depending on if Red Zi is still sane or not.”
“Sane? You owe us an explanation, Émilie.” Her dad shot back from the temporary kitchen set up for the event.
“The short version is that she went too far on the crass joke, and I punished her. And she can only attend tonight’s meeting if she expiates her fault completely. She had the time to do so, the question is more on whether she had the will or not.”
“And what trial did you inflict her with?”
“Mariah Carey, ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ on loop for 24 hours. It felt appropriate given the period.”
“Attagirl!” her dad said, oddly proud of her.
“Not very appropriate Christmas spirit wise, but sure.” Her mom chipped in.
Émilie shrugged. She knew that she could have just brushed Rzdi’s comments under the rug, forgot about it, and forgave the dorarizin. But boundaries have been set, and she crossed them one too many times. And not wanting to start a conversation about who is right and who is not with her mom, she just nodded and continued setting the table silently.
Her parents knew better than pushing on the topic and returned to their preparations.
“Hopefully, the matter will be behind us when tonight’s dinner starts.” She mumbled to herself. “Still an hour to go before anyone should arrive… MOM! DAD! I’ll go prepare myself, did you bring some clothes for me?” she shouted from across the place, making her way to the side room to change into something more comfortable than an exploration vessel uniform.
“Your bag should be on the bench, ugly Christmas sweaters in the 3rd locker, and hats in the 4th. We made sure to get some for your friends too!”
“Thanks dad.”
----------------------------------------
Syescee'ecaas
‘It is finally time! Ok. Breathe in… and out… in… out… It’s just a normal meeting. Nothing serious. It’s just a party to celebrate a holiday of extreme importance held by the family of the only warm-cuddle friend you have. No reasons to stress. In… Out…’ Syescee’ecaas was thinking to herself, on the verge of hyperventilating, as her group of colleagues led by the captain of the ship made their way toward the private hall reserved for the occasion. She clutched a small package in her arms. A gift. A gift she was taking huge risks to bring to her hosts. But thankfully, all the new smells of the station seemingly masked the sweet odour of her package and no one suspected her of anything so far.
“[Alright, we’re here.]” the voice of her captain cut her reflexion. “[I want everyone here on their best behaviour! Last thing we want is a diplomatic incident and losing our tiny-chomper. Understand?]”
Everyone nodded.
“[Good. No news from Rdzi yet? No? Well, let’s hope she’ll catch up.]”
The door opened for them, sight of a long table filled with food present and the air inside slapped them with a myriad of new scents of the feast to come, leaving them dazed at the entrance. Their trance stopped by the unfamiliar voice of a plump human lady.
“[Émilie! Your guests are here! Émilie!?]” she shouted, but her call remained unanswered. “[I swear this child… Let me fetch her.]” the aged French woman said, leaving the group alone, silent and unsure on how to proceed.
Thankfully, their wait was short as another human approached them. Clad with a dirty apron on top of very flashy green and red garments and a kitchen knife in the hand, the man casually strode to them.
“[Well, you’re not as scary as the stories depict you when you look like confused ducklings who can’t make sense of what’s around them. Don’t just gawk at the room, come in.]” he gestured to them to follow him toward the table.
“[Thank you for your hospitality. And sorry to impose, mister?]” Krrelehs said, a quick hand sign for everyone to follow her.
“[Name is Martin. Martin Cuvier. My wife -Émilie’s mom- is Coraline. And don’t be. It’s been a while since Émilie brought some friends for dinner. And a while since I’ve spent so long in the kitchen with that glutton roaming the stars instead of our living room. So the pleasure is all ours.
Now. While I’d love to assume who is who based on my daughter’s emails, I’ll let her have the pleasure of doing the introductions. Feel free to take a seat.]” he said, taking the one closer to the kitchen door for himself.
Syescee’ecaas remained there, fidgeting, looking around to see someone act. Which some did, sitting themselves around the table, sniffing whatever dish was in front of them. Others preferring to stay standing, waiting for the rest of their hosts to arrive.
“[Also, while I’m alone with you. You who are the closest to her on your ship. I have something to ask]”
All eyes were back on the small man, his greying hair and the fatigue in his shoulders making him look old, older than them, they thought (despite everyone in the group being above the current human life expectancy). His tone left no place for jokes. His gaze drilled through them, one by one.
“[So. Who’s trying to bang my daughter?]” he asked.
Time stopped. All ears and feathers flat on the heads, not a tongue out of a snout. No movement. Just silence. Some tried to speak, only to open their mouths and close them again. And again.
But someone finally managed to surpass their shock.
“[She… She’s not here yet, sir.]” Tk’Suig’tz shakily answered.
Silence again.
Seconds which felt like an eternity finally broken by Émilie’s arrival.
“[Dad, what did you do?]”
“[You look lovely in your Christmas sweater, ma puce.]”
“[Don’t avoid the question. Why is everyone looking like you threaten to cook them and their families alive?]”
“[I haven’t said anything of the sort. Yet. You know how it is, formal greetings, everyone feel this awkwardness, can’t bridge with the other parties so all communication are in a standstill?]” Mr Cuvier said, deflecting the issue. “[Anyway, now that you finally grace us with your presence, mind doing the introductions?]”
“[Sure. The tallest -and only Dorarizin present so far- with the salt and pepper thick coat and silky to the touch mane is Celes, our captain. Then we have our Jornissians with Assan, Sar, and Cassie. Assan is the huge ?Python? Dirt-Serpent with red corundum and red Bread-people fermented-fruit-juice scales, he is the ship’s doctor and a hecking nerd. Sar…]”
“[Chonkinoko real!]” Émilie’s dad interrupted her as she was pointing at the towering maroon battle-scarred Jornissian.
“[Chonkinoko real!]” She repeated. “[Sar is the head chief, ruler of the mess hall, and master of the space nachos, he has been the one making me real food while up there. Food fabs are decent, but it’s not really cooking you know.]”
“
“[Shush nerd. Anyway dad, since you’re the best cook at home, I’m sure Sar will bug you later about all the food you made for tonight. Then we have Cassie.]” Émilie said, moving next to her.
Syescee’ecaas couldn’t help but feel inadequate. For a Jornissian, she was petite, only a good head above warm-cuddle height, and being from a warm climate colony did not help her with a good build. Almost human in proportions. A size complex which always burdened her, especially when becoming the centre of attention in a room.
“[We started at the same time in the lab, and she taught me how to use the machines. We work together and she’s my best friend!]”
‘Please don’t say that out loud.’ Syescee’ecaas thought, meeting for a second the very very jealous gaze of her Captain.
“
“[She’s very pretty too! See her scales? Feels like I got a shiny rainbow ?Boa? Dirt-Serpent ?Pokemon? as a friend.]”
Syescee’ecaas wasn’t blessed by Jornissian genetics, on top of her small stature, she also had a hereditary scale disease giving them an iridescent bright shine. Something that clashed with her muted kaki shades and splotchy patterns, making her terrible at hiding.
Luckily, it seems that the warm-cuddles just loved those weird kinks of her. And not just her, most often than not, what was considered a deformity or a handicap by most of the Senate space, was just cute or adorable in the warm-cuddles eyes.
Émilie grabbed her attention by gesturing to lend her an ear.
“[By the way, you got the goods?]” she whispered.
“
“[If you brought gifts for the party, don’t hesitate to place them under the holy-gift-tree in the corner. We’ll open them after dinner.]” Coraline Cuvier chipped in as she placed another dish on the table. “[Don’t take too long, food is better while hot. And we’re still at the entrées.]”
----------------------------------------
Asjesh’hass(?) aka. Ash
Somewhere undisclosed to the public, 2 hours before the Cuvier Christmas party.
“[…ake…p…wak…up…]”
“
His consciousness returned to him with a sharp pain to the face.
“[Wake the fuck up, samurai! We got presents to buy! And a party to attend.]” a Dorarizin almost screamed in his ears, her face hovering above his own.
A quick recollection of how he got in this situation later, he sighed. He remembered that face, she is that crazy girl from earlier. Looking around, he saw that they were put in one of those ‘calming rooms’. Iron bars rarely made people relax, nor did they ever stopped anyone that isn’t a warm-cuddle from leaving the room. So instead, rooms with padded walls, scented candles, and sounds of soothing rivers were created.
Seating himself up, he looked at his roommate.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“
“[Oh… Sorry…]” the Dorarizin girl apologized, ears flat on her head.
‘What was her name again? Rdzi or something.’
“
“[I tried; door is locked.]” Rdzi said defeated.
“
“[…Yes.]”
“
“[How do you know all that?]”
“”
“[Fair enough…]” she slumped next to him, waiting for their freedom to return. “[Hey man, sorry about your Christmas plans… Although I may have a solution…]”
…
Later
“
“[At least a product from each shop, so we should be around 2/3rd of the way done. And once we are, I’ll promise you’ll have your tiny-chomper Christmas party!]” Rdzi answered, shuffling from aisles to aisles in search of things to buy for her, her friends, family, and others.
Jornissian sigh intensify. You know, the one with a lot of ssssssssssss.
“[Come on big guy! You’re a docker and the second biggest Jornissian I’ve ever met. Surely, carrying some lady’s bags isn’t too hard for you.]” She teased.
“
“
“[Keep your voice down, sir.]” the shopkeeper sternly told him.
“
Luckily for him, her vibrant jade green dyed mane was like a beacon in the duty-free mall. And so he slithered back after her.
----------------------------------------
Émilie
“-nd lastly, that huge ball of addicting duvet fluffiness is Suez.” Émile said, giving a good hug to Tk’Suig’tz to show the fact, much to the Karnakian delight, Mr. Cuvier’s disapproval, and Krrelehs’ jealousy. “We don’t work in the same branch, but he’s always helping me out whenever he’s free! He is a good.”
“[I am not for sale.]” the interested party chipped in.
“Not that kind of good, Suez.” She said with a knowing smile to her dad. “He is a bit dense too.”
“[It’s the moulting duvet!]” Tk’Suig’tz retorted, puffing up at the perceived jab his way.
“See.”
Her parents just bobbed their heads approvingly at the display.
“And with that, I believe that’s all of the introduction. At least, for the people present.”
“Then let us not waste time and start the feast. Everyone, please take a seat. Nounours, please open the bottles and start serving everyone.” Mrs Cuvier’s voice boomed in the room, indicating to the guests who really is in charge in the family. So they complied, not risking angering the small woman.
Once seated, the crew just looked curiously at all the alien food in front of them. Multi coloured substances on small breads, pinkish-orangish arthropod creatures on ice, and shells.
Everything should be safe to eat, but the unknown is always a bit scary. Scenting the apprehension of his colleagues, Sser’Sarkxess took upon himself to ask about the new experiences awaiting them. Like a true chef would.
“[Excuse me Mr. Cuvier…]”
“Martin is fine.”
“[Right. Mr. Martin, I would not want to ruin the surprise if it is one, but can you enlighten us about tonight’s feast? While I am the most knowledgeable about warm-cuddle food on our ship, after Émilie of course, I must say that everything presented to us tonight is completely foreign. What are these? Is there a specific custom to consume them?]” the Jornissian cook asked.
“My bad, I thought that perhaps Émilie had coached you all on the potential food you’d encounter. What you have in front of you are standard entrées for a French Christmas dinner. On the seafood side, we have gambas and shrimps, lumpfish roe -both red and black- on toasts, and fresh oysters.
Gambas should have their heads ripped off and their carapaces removed before eating them, although that’s mostly so that we don’t break our teeth, I don’t think you guys will have any issues with that! Roe toasts are good to eat as they are. Oysters need a splash of lemon juice to check if they are alive, before gulping them in one go.” Martin said, pointing at the cuts of fresh yellow fruits adorning the oyster plates.
“On the non-seafood side, we got some foie-gras with fig jam on campagne bread, as well a variety of pâtés and terrines for you to enjoy with some crackers.” This time pointing at the lot of glass jars filled with meaty content. “Each one is labelled, but don’t hesitate to ask later about the animal they are from.
For the plats de resistance later, we have pork roast à la diable stuffed with farce and morels accompanied by green beans and baked garlic potatoes. And since Émilie will be gone for another long time, we thought it would be nice to make dishes for the important days she will be missing too.” He continued. The news got a delighted squeal from her.
“Thus, we also made some Easter lamb leg roasts, with its side of flageolet beans; a king scallop gratin with rice; and salmon papillotes with a lemon-butter sauce. Followed by a cheese plateau.
For the desserts, on top of the mandatory Christmas logs, we also planned marzipan stuffed dates, crepes -for the Candlemas you will miss-, a Tropézienne tart, and an assortment of pastries for all the tastes.
Of course, we can’t eat without drinking. I have prepared an arranged rum for the opening toast; pineapple agrums and spices, that I macerated it myself for the past months. The rest of the meal shall be with wine, both red and white depending on the dish. Don’t hesitate to ask for more if your glass is empty, I literally relocated all of my cellar here for the event. Champagne and cider for the dessert, and liquors of the strong kind for digestion at the end.” Her dad explained, detailing the food program for everyone to salivate at.
“Fret not, we have prepared everything in bulk as Émilie told us that you were all bon vivants. Are your fears appeased Mr. Sar?” he added.
Mouth agape at the diversity and the amount of food prepared just for them, Sser’Sarkxess took some seconds to regain his composure and answer the warm-cuddle question.
“[Yes. Thank you very much Mr. Martin. The list is quite long and I’m not sure about the translation of half of it, but I trust your cooking skills. I am still a bit confused over one dish present on the table that you forgot to detail.]”
“Oh? Which one? Such a thing can happen, I’m sorry.” He said, before falling into a fit of laughter at what the Jornissian was pointing at.
Giggles that were mirrored by Émilie and her mom. Thinking he fell into a social faux-pas, Sser’Sarkxess fell silent, and watched the three warm-cuddle laugh for a bit.
“[What is funny about these baskets filled with cooked dough?]” Krrelehs finally intervened.
“Oh! Nothing really. We were just surprised that you guys thought that it was a dish, that’s all.” Émilie answered, giving a gentle smile to Sser’Sarkxess to let him know that he did not commit a deadly offence.
“It’s just bread.” She continued.
“[Is it supposed to be eaten?]” the Jornissian cook asked, determined to understand what the heck was going on.
“Yes.”
“[Then it is a dish, right?]”
“No.”
“[How so?]” he asked, very confused by the previous answers.
“How to explain that… Hmmm… Would something that is always on the table be considered a dish or part of the tableware? We use it to soak the sauces and juices of our plates.”
“[Seems like a waste if you’re throwing it after use…]”
“No, we eat it after soaking it.”
“[But you said it was tableware?]”
“Yes but… you know what, just do it like we do. And it’ll be fine.” She reassured the very confused Jornissian who was looking around for an answer, only to find the also confused gaze of his friends.
“[But… having tableware that degrade and rot isn’t really convenient, is it?]”
“We change it every day.” Martin casually answered. “Multiple times a day if we run out of it. You won’t find a French table without some on it.”
The crew just acquiesced at the revelations, some with more enthusiasm than others. Cough Karnakians Cough. But all silently agreed to not push the topic further, as every answer only brought more questions.
The following exposé over the importance of a fixed price for a standard baguette in the current economy that followed came to a sudden halt not long after. All three humans noticed a change in how the Dorarizin captain acted. Krrelehs became silent suddenly, and had her ears turn around like two radars trying to pinpoint something.
Soon enough, an increasingly loud rumble was heard. Followed by the sound of claws on metal.
----------------------------------------
Rdzi-of-Npieskr
Rdzi was late. Everyone should already be at the party, and their tiny-chomper was clear that they would start it with or without her. But she could not arrive empty-handed, which is why she lost so much time in the shops.
And with a giant blue Jornissian in tow, she was now rushing toward the Cuvier’s place. Well, ‘rushing’ is perhaps not the right term. Powerwalking would be more fitting. Running would trigger the security roombas, and that would really make them miss the party!
The slow pace prevented any new bolas from coming their way, but she could not help to complain constantly about the speed.
“{Are you sure it’s this way?}” she asked to her follower.
“[Unless you have turned right at the last intersection, we should be on track. Should be the next fourth door on your left.]” the mountain of bags answered, continuing the slither after her.
The remaining distance was closed before further complaints were made.
Standing in front of the door, they look at each other for a few seconds…
“{Ok, now what? I can’t hear what is happening inside, are you sure it’s the right one?}”
“[Looks like it.]”
“{Good. Let’s enter!}” Rdzi said, and impatiently started to get a grip in the slit of the door since these refused to open on their own.
“[The intercom to contact the persons inside is right he-]” Ash managed to say before being cut by the screech of metal against metal and the whistling of the door pneumatic system failing against Rdzi monstrous strength.
The passage forced open, the duo was greeted by the very concerned looks of a table of tiny-chompers and members of the “The-Curious-Wanderer-Seeking-Veracity”.
“{SORRY I’M LATE!}” She bellowed, making some of the members of the table flinch at her roar.
“{Officer Rdzi-of-Npieskr, please do not shout. You are making Émilie’s family uncomfortable.}” her captain stated. “{Also, congrats, you’re just in time for the sea-snorts.}”
“{Sorry. I’ve been running around for the past hours in search of gifts, and I kinda lost the measure of time.}” She apologized again, and decided to ignore the cryptic second part of what her captain just said.
As she was advancing toward the table, she was greeted halfway there by the sole male tiny-chomper present.
“[Hello Miss Red Zi, nice to see you were able to join us. Before we move forward, I must ask you were the one trying to bang my daughter?]” he asked with the tact of construction machinery.
“[DAD!/NOUNOURS!]” Émilie and her mom called in indignation, the first one now red as the grass of the plains of Where-We-Hunt-Free-in-Carmine (a planet in the Dorarizin empire where the plant life evolved to rely more on the carotene than the chlorophyll for photosynthetic pigments, given them a dominant distinct red-orange colour).
Taken aback by the straightforwardness of the question, she mumbled “{Uhh… Yes.}”
“[Good. This call for a celebratory cocktail! One my people do in grand celebration when thousands of my people take to the streets to party!!! Would you like some?]” the small tiny-chomper said, a shit-eating grin from ear to ear and a bottle of clear liquid in his hands.
‘Since when did he have that bottle? Never mind that, Émilie’s dad is surely testing me! I shall make myself worthy!’ she thought. “{Of course! It would be my pleasure! What is it called?}” she asked. ‘Why is he using a lighter?’
“[Molotov.]” Martin answered, doing his best impression of ‘Plague be upon ye’ with his throw.
----------------------------------------
Asjesh’hass(?) aka. Ash
His companion of misfortune now attacked by the flaming bottle wrath of the male warm-cuddle, Ash was left alone at the center of everyone else’s attention. ‘I knew this was a bad idea.’
His idle and awkward silence was broken by the oldest of the two female warm-cuddles waving him to get closer.
“[So blue boy, why don’t you tell this mom what you are doing here? You look quite lost!]” she asked, her tone serious but not harsh toward him.
Ash wanted to shrink and disappear in shame. How can one be so big, and feel so small? Well… social anxiety. And the feeling of being caught somewhere you are not supposed to be…
“
But before he could fully turn away, his hand was grasped by someone. Looking down at it, he met the sparkly eyes of the youngest warm-cuddle who was radiating joy.
“[MOM! SHINY CHONKINOKO REAL!]” she shouted.
“[Yes dear, shiny chonkinoko real. Now, blue boy, you weren’t expected, true. But that doesn’t mean we weren’t prepared.]” the mom smiled. “[It is a Christmas dinner and there is always the ?part-du-pauvre?. Have a seat and relax with a drink, if someone is to blame, it’s that Rdzi-of-Npieskr fellow. And by the look of it, she’s already getting punished.]” she continued, giving him a small mug filled with an amber liquid smelling of spices and fruits while sounds of breaking glass were heard behind him.
Letting the alcoholic beverage warm him up, he sat down and tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on here. Apparently, these people are from an exploration vessel and this is a party hosted by the family of their warm-cuddle scientist. That explains the small committee. ‘They seem like good people.’
“
The lady took a sip of her mug before pointing to the table. “[Did you notice the number of plates set on the table when you arrived?]” she asked.
“
“[And how many were we supposed to be?]”
The smug face was dropped. “
“[No need to apologize. I guess it does look that way from an outsider’s perspective. The extra plate is for the ?part-du-pauvre?. You see, Christmas in its religious tradition has always valued sharing and charity. In Bread-and-cheese-people-land, this took the form of a plate always ready to be offered to a poor, a passer-by, a foreigner, or an unexpected visitor at Christmas dinner. We cook the food portions accordingly so that everyone has its fill, extra guest included! Thus why I said that we weren’t unprepared, Doctor Assan.]”
The answer was welcomed with a nod from the doctor and whispers about ‘how we don’t deserve being such pure and loving beings’ by the Karnakians present.
The discussion then devolved into retells of the young warm-cuddle mischiefs, both prior and during her time on the ship. All the time during which she begged both parties to not tell the other the details of her antics. Especially about the exact number of times she put sugary products in the ship machinery.
Sadly, that is when his social anxiety caught up with him and reminded Ash that he was in a room full of unknown people and that he was about to eat unknown food as well. And that the person he knew the most here was currently getting her fur singed. Thankfully, the smell of the toasted Dorarizin stopped him in his mental tracks, and soon enough, Rdzi-of-Npieskr came to sit next to him.
“[Enjoying yourself?]” she asked, nonplussed by her still smoking strands of fur.
He gave her a small nod.
“[Well, time to dig in then!]” Rdzi continued, moving in to grab a small shell from one of pile of ice under the stare of Mr Cuvier. The dad ran out of everclear to ignite, and thus decided that starting the dinner was a more productive activity than re-enacting Jeanne d’Arc execution with the green mane Dorarizin.
Grabbing a shell for himself, he looked confusedly at the other for help. “
“[Sea-snort]” people said in unison.
“
“
Turning to see who interrupted him, he had to look up. For perhaps the first time in his adulthood, he had to look up to meet his interlocutor’s eyes. An older and scarred marron Jornissian was looking slightly down at him.
“
“
“[Pry it open, squeeze some yellow-acid-agrum juice on top, gulp it in one go.]” Martin Cuvier said, demonstrating the process.
Everyone followed the instructions and all the faces scrunched in disgust, much to the amusement of the warm-cuddles who opened another series of oysters and continued gulping them. To Ash -and surely the rest of the guests-, the taste was fine but the texture… The name really does it justice… So much that he had to control his gag reflex to not put the weird meat back to where it came from…
Rinsing the feel with his drink, Ash decided to focus on the toasts instead. A sentiment shared with the other alien attendees.
And so, the dinner went on.
----------------------------------------
Ahzassn’han
Sometime between the flageolets and the king scallop gratin.
“
“[What?]” she snapped at him, clearly not enjoying having her conversation with Émilie and Syescee’ecaas interrupted. “[Ahzassn’han, are you drunk?]”
“[Report? In the middle of the meal? Is it important enough to have to break me away from my discussion on caramel baked goods with the girls?]”
“
“[Alright, pray tell so that we may be over with it.]”
“
“[What?]”
“
“[I understood you the first time, Ahzassn’han. I guess the better question would be why are you asking that?]”
“
“[Continue.]”
“”
“[Go on.]”
“
“[Get to the point!]” she fumed.
“
Krrelehs-of-Bracken just stood there, running calculations on how many drinks people had since the start of this party, the alcohol content of said drinks, and based on the remaining dishes to come, the expected number of drinks to be consumed in the near future. Her ship’s doctor was right. The tiny-chompers were hurting themselves to be good hosts, they cannot possibly consume as much ethanol as the other races of the senate. It is a basic physiological difference.
But before she could intervene, Émilie -in her totally-not-drunk mood- entered their little debate.
“[Heyyy Assan! Is okay. Dad is a-okay!]”
“
Clearly offended by the last remark, the small warm-cuddle puffed her cheeks and retorted. “[Wrong! Wrong wrong wrong and wrong. Dad will see you all roll under the table in your gastric bodily fluids before going down. And I’m pretty sure I can beat you to a drink contest too!]”
“
“[Care to prove it?]”
“”
“[Sounds like you’re afraid to me.]” she giggles before turning to the rest of the table and shouting. “[Hey everyone! Assan is afraid of being beaten by warm-cuddles in a drinking contest.]”
“[Émilie, perhaps it is wiser to listen to the doctor on health matters such as this one.]” the Dorarizin captain tried to reason. But good luck reasoning with a drunk person.
“[Celes is afraid too!]” Émilie continued to shoot. A shit-eating grin on her face. “[Oh no! wook at me! i'm taww and big and stwong but i'm afwaid of a wittwe giww and weak liquows! I think i know bettew than the wawm-cuddwes what is best so that wiww be my excuse to avoid the chawwenge!!]” she cooed at the duo.
Such an obvious bait would never have worked in normal circumstances. But after 2/3 glasses of rum and down five bottles of wine? Let’s just say that all went according to the keikaku.
“
“[Well mister Assan, if our wines are so weak to you, you will have no objections if we move to more… mature liquors, right?]” Martin said. “[I’m sure everyone will thank you later for saying out loud what they were thinking. Now! How about we start slowly with a meter of shots? Then I’ll make some cocktails. I was in charge of the student bar when I was in uni, and my mixs were pretty nice.]”
----------------------------------------
Émilie
Dual wielding a Nutella crepe in her right hand and a long island iced tea in her left, Émile was taking a triumphant pose over a very much wriggling on the ground and out drunk Ahzassn’han. “Haha! I have vanquished the red beast!”
Almost falling down herself when her pedestal shifted under her footing, but she managed to stabilize herself against the broad back of Krrelehs who was resting her head on the table, slowly savouring her passion fruit Christmas log, after the 6 buckets of Bloody Mary she was coerced to drink.
Looking around, everyone was already in an advanced kind of drunk. Even the two towering Jornissians, despite their innate ability to soak more alcohol because they are huge, had visible lag in their movement.
Herbs based liquors have been a hit with the Dorarizins, but the Chartreuse is treacherous and they learned it the hard way. Red Zi was clearly reeling from sensory overload already.
Fruits based ones fared a lot more with our serpentine friends. Calvados is particular. Although, the Ambush -a cocktail from Caen- proved to be too much for the petite Cassis who was now dazing in the distance instead of actively participating.
And the Karnakians entered a communal trance listening to her mom around their 3rd pint of mojito, it seems menthol has some weird effect of drunk space raptors, all of them glued to the stories of her childhood. Much to her displeasure.
With the dessert, and by extension the dinner, approaching its end, the time for gifts was drawing closer. Excusing herself for a few minutes to retrieve hats and ugly sweaters for the guests, she also took the chance to set up a small drone to record the reactions of her friends!
“Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Guys and Gals! With our bellies now full and our livers now dead, it’s time for the best time of the night! The gifts!!!” She shouted, going from person to person to hand over the mandatory apparels from this sacred ritual. “Suez, stop looking like you’re frozen and wear that sweater.”
“[This is the best gift I have ever received! My family shall protect this vestment until the heat death of the universe!]”
“Stop being a drama queen, you silly huggable ball of fluffy duvet! Your main gift is yet to come.” Émilie giggled. ‘I swear those Karnakians, even our children do not look that excited for a Christmas gift. And god knows some are quite vocal and showy about it! But with the raptors, it’s like you made them the richest and happiest person in the universe with every mundane interaction… Can’t imagine how they are feeling right now, getting overwhelmed by joy and all.’
“Anyway! Gather ‘round the tree! And start praying to Santa Claus that you’ve been a good kid! Captain, you’re first.”
Rummaging from the literal mountain of presents, Émilie lifted a small package personalized with wolf symbols and the full name of Krrelehs written in Dorarizin. And repeated the task for everyone present, accompanied with plenty hugs and bises of course. Now turning to the surprise guest of the night, she held in her hands a huge box of chocolate.
“Sorry blue boy! Since you weren’t expected, I didn’t plan any personalized stuff for you… But it is unthinkable that you leave this room without a gift! So here’s for you. A jumbo box of Ferrero rochers! Don’t eat them all in one go.” She said, shoving the box in his hands before going for a hug. The young Jornissian docker flinched at the sudden physical interaction.
The ritual of gift giving was repeated 11 more times, but only making a good dent in the present pile. People were enjoying their new acquisitions, comparing their gifts, taking photos, tasting the foreign products -especially the Cuvier family who all receive a fragment of the space caramel found weeks prior, Krrelehs giving a death stare to the two persons from the lab who smuggled them on station to offer at Émilie’s parents- and overall having a good time.
Except perhaps Rdzi--of-Npieskr who realised that buying a gift from every shop on the station was clearly going overboard and looked at the still humongous pile of stuff lying next to the small shining Christmas tree.
Catching on to her distress, the one and only self-proclaimed best human employee of “The-Curious-Wanderer-Seeking-Veracity” slid next to her.
“What’s bugging you?”
“[I bought too much. And I can’t burden your family with that much stuff, it’s not even original gifts, just things I bought here…]” Rdzi sighed.
“That’s all? That’s why you’re being a grumpy Grinch all alone in your corner? It’s perhaps a lot, but my parents won’t say no to your gifts you know. That make me think, do you know who the Grinch i-“
“[Yes, I know who he is. I used those hours of auditory torture back on the ship for some research on your customs on the side. And I find the comparison mean and not accurate!]” she cut Émilie.
“See, you even got the temper! But if the gifts issue is bothering you so much, I may have an idea to help you.” She retorted.
‘Oh no. I know that smile. A prelude of the chaos to come.’ “[Aren’t you still mad at me? Why would you help me?]”
“Because Christmas is a time for forgiveness. And for you to be forgiven, I, Émilie Cuvier, acting Santa by proxy, have a mission for you, Grinch Red Zi. There are many people on this station who couldn’t take part in the festivities, and thus didn’t get any gifts! So very sad!!! So, much like your pistachio counterpart, you have to save Christmas! Their Christmas! Do you accept it?” the small human said to her sulking friend.
“[And how should I do that?]”
Émilie just gave a nod toward the remaining pile of gifts.
“[Oh…]” She realized. Straightening herself up, she met the kind look of the other attendees, all a bit jealous of the act of tiny-chomper pure compassion toward her. She could have swore Pi’tchcceecci had an epiphany of some kind. “[So, how do we go about this? Should I just… go? And deliver them one by one?]”
“My dear Red Zi. There are protocols! The gift-giving process must travel on a sleight led by magical reindeers! And be accompanied by Santa for his blessing of course!”
“[Magic isn’t real.]” Interjected a drunk Ahzassn’han from the background.
“That’s where you’re wrong Spicy Noodle! I am the Santa by proxy tonight and I will use Christmas magic to bend the rules a bit. Now. Can our two mastodons please stand next to one another?” she gestured at Sar and Ash. “Good, now can someone put a table on their tail? Dad, where did you put the duct tape we had when we set the place up?”
Confused looks were exchanged, but the preparations were made.
“Now, will the Grinch join me upon the sleight?” She added, jumping on the table once secured to the back of the two chonkinokos. “I shall also have a fair maiden to my other side as miss Claus by proxy, no? Cassis, care to join me?”
The petite iridescent lady slithered her way next to her favourite warm-cuddle, the newly appointed Grinch, and the pile of presents loaded onto the table.
“[Émilie, that is very nice of you to help Rdzi in her redemption, but you can’t expect Sser’Sarkxess and Asjesh’hass to pull you around the full station by themselves? Surely that’s too much, even for them!]” Krrelehs intervened at the weird display in front of her.
“You are correct. You. And everyone else. Congrats, you’re promoted to magical reindeers! Suez, as you are the purest goodest bean of our group, you are thus titled Rudolf! And will have the honour to lead the sleight in our merry adventure! Are you with me?” she said, strapping them to one another with more duct tape.
“[YES!]” The team roared, the alcohol making that whole plan sounds like a good idea.
“Then let’s move! We have a Christmas to save.”
“Have fun ma pupuce!” Her mom waved at them as they rushed by the door to fulfil their sacred mission.
“It’s good to be young, it reminds me of when we met at uni. Do you remember mon coeur?” Her dad added.
----------------------------------------
Later in the corridors, a frantic chase was taking place.
“[ÉMILIE!]” Syescee’ecaas shouted.
“CALL ME SANTA WHILE ON THE JOB!”
“[SANTA! ENEMIES INBOUND! 6 O’CLOCK]”
“GRINCH PREPARE COUNTERMEASURES! I WANT THOSE ROOMBAS WITH A GIFT IN THEIR APPENDICES BY NEXT BULKHEAD!”
//[CEASEAGGRESIVEBEHAVIOUR! ALLFAILURETOCOMPLYWILLBEHELDAGAINSTYOU!]]//
//[REALEASETHEHUMAN!]//
//[WELEGALLYCANNOTSHOOTYOUWHILEYOUHAVETHEHUMAN!]//
A dozen of elegantly wrapped packages flew from the DIY sleight toward their pursuers, impacting many of the drones in their sensor regions.
//[GIFTSAREAPPRECIATED! BUTRELINQUISHTHEHUMAN]//
//[YOURCHRISTMASSPIRITISBREACHINGTHE7THANTIAGGRESIONRULE!]//
“YOU WILL NEVER CATCH US UNTIL EVERY SOUL ON THIS SPACE SAUCER HAVE RECEIVED A GIFT AND OUR BAG ISN’T EMPTY!” Émilie shouted back at the security drones, all while throwing another gift to a scared/confused Dorarizin who made way for the convoy to pass. “Magical Reindeers! How are you faring?”
“[I’m gonna puke.]” Assan said.
“[It’s a good digestive exercise.]” Pi’tchcceecci countered, her mate backing the opinion with a silent nod.
“[They are going to revoke my docking rights.]” Krrelehs wept, still sad-drunk and becoming familiar with the fact that what they were doing was very much against Zephyr security regulations.
“[WILD AND PURE! AND FOREVER FREE!]” Tk’Suig’tz roared from the nose of the formation.
“Welp, It’s going to be a long night!” She laughed. ‘Who knows when will be the next time I’ll be able to celebrate anything on Earth again? So I’ll make the most of it while I can!’