-Transmission Start-

Voice Interface Missive: Universal Date: 31872

Sender: Cargo Freighter Dark Meridian

Destination: Nelan’Kor - Verach Homeworld

Recipient/Address: CDN-813597967/CZ3-RA7-LU43-R502

Your son, Jjatha.

Mother, Father, Siblings. I hope this VIM finds you well and in good spirits. I am proud to be sending a substantial bonus home. But the story behind it is a long and harrowing one.

There…is much to speak about since my last VIM. The events of the last few cycles have been both trying and…illuminating at the same time. I do not wish to alarm you, but you must know that the ship that I am serving as Navigator on, the Dark Meridian, was intercepted and boarded by Clantor led pirates as we transited into one of our destination systems. Clantor, as I am sure you know, but the young ones may not, have dominated their planet by enslaving a companion intelligent species as laborers and inventors, and continue to take more into slavery for the same reasons, or as food.

Do not fear, this is not an emergency VIM nor am I being given a final ransom message before being taken to the slave pens. All is currently well, and we made port at our destination clear of any pirates. It is…the events leading to our liberation from the pirates that I need to disclose to you now, as they are what have led to the extra currency being sent. I beg you to have patience with my rambling and chaotic retelling as there is much to explain and I myself am still trying to come to terms with the events, and what they revealed about a particular member of my crew and their species.

The species in question, I am sure you have heard of them on the GalNet, is a Human, also sometimes called a Terran. They are relative newcomers to spacefaring, but they have already made lasting impressions wherever they go. Stories of them abound through the Net, stories of them being nigh unkillable in comparison to most other species, of their pack bonding habits, of their willingness to sacrifice themselves for others, of their… odd or predatory natures. Surprisingly, I have found all of these stories and more to be closer to truth than fiction, at least amongst the Humans deemed worthy to travel the stars and work alongside their peers. The Human on my ship, a Maintenance and Cargo Technician named Conrad Mclaughlin, has mentioned in passing that not all humans match or live up to the stories, but that those either willing or trained to brave the uncertainties inherent in space travel are often better prepared than those that are not.

This Human is, strange. When he first came aboard he did not interact much with other crew members. He simply sat and watched, watched and listened, and just watched. It was…unsettling. He also moved incredibly quietly for being on the larger range of his species size categories. It wasn’t until later when he started to approach crew and speak with them that figured out why he did not interact at first. He was observing the crew and their interactions, learning who was friendly to whom and what things they preferred not to talk on. This way he could avoid insulting someone or causing trouble unintentionally. Though the methods of his learning this was strange, his efforts paid dividends and the crew quickly accepted him into the fold, leaving the odd observation behavior quite forgotten. He was a friendly sort, quick to jest and laugh, but serious when needed. He fit in well.

MCT Conrad appears to be a normal Human by the standards we have come to experience, for a Deathworld species that is. Yes, they are indeed from a planet the GalCom considers to be a Deathworld. For those in the family who are unaware, humans are a quadra-form, bipedal mammalian species, similar in general form to us. Similar enough in fact that their planet, in a confluence of nature, has a small mammal resembling the Verach species, called a fruit bat. The resemblance was, despite their bat’s ability to fly… uncomfortably close.

Their planet’s gravity is stronger than the Galactic norm for intelligent spacefaring species, resulting in them having denser musculature and skeletal structure, which explains in part their comparatively extreme durability. I know what you are thinking, and no, they are not Apex predators like the Ruulothi (whom the humans call Leonids) and the Clantor (which the Humans call Mantids). Both of those names are derived from a similar appearing species on the Human’s homeworld and are also going to be important in my later story. Much like we are similar to their fruitbat, their species also have an analogue. And, like us, both of their namesakes very closely resemble the species in question.

Where was…Oh yes. Humans are not solely predators; they are omnivores and can eat pretty much any plant or animal based foods. It… does makes for some strange and awkward times in the eateries. I asked MCT Conrad about their seemingly contradictory natures at one time, and he found it amusing but explained as I asked questions. He told me that his species developed to survive in spite of not being on top of their food chain. After noting my interest, he also explained that they designed a system for scaling predators. The fact that environment of their planet caused them to even need to create such a system is concern enough, even more so is where THEY place THEMSELVES on that scale. Their system goes from 1-5 with 1 being the lowest (a purely prey species) and 5 being the highest (these being Apex predators, creatures with impressive natural weapons and nothing that actively hunts them). Humans rate themselves…at just above a 2. MCT Conrad seemed to take great enjoyment from my shock and answered my next question even as I was forming it. “We improvise, adapt and overcome. We learn, create and apply. We make tools, then make more tools to make better and more effective tools. Then build more tools to beat those tools. Like most species, but I suppose we are a little faster at it than most.” This adapting and improvising, as well as their tribal social structure, is what allowed them to jump ahead of the creatures that would prey upon them. They gathered in communities strong enough to fend off any creature that would prey upon them. They did this so well that the Apex predators that they lived near stopped hunting them unless either the humans were alone, or the predator was wounded or desperate. He called their innate ability to adapt on short notice, “’Flying by the seat of their pants.’ ‘Winging it’ and doing things ‘On a wing and a Prayer.’” All phrases used to describe simply, “Making it up as you go” and “Faking it until you make it”. Though I have yet to figure out why a wingless race uses flight analogies, or what business or strange mechanism makes pants fly. Another phrase, rather pertinent to the situation that we found ourselves in, was directed specifically at dealing with the Clantor, “Killed in Battle, or held as Chattel.” It doesn’t translate directly to our language or Galactic Trade, but in the human language it is very catchy and clearly rhymes, making it easy to remember when stress and circumstances distract. Perhaps that is why they make use of these phrases, so that they are remembered even when all other reason flees the mind.

Those odd lines are all another human creation, an “Idiom”. These are phrases that are sometimes used as teaching tools or expressions of grudging acceptance but, most often, are used to signal a universal idea to others in the same group so that they may all be, “On the same page”, and therefore able to respond in a similar and complimentary manner. That is another thing that humans seem to have developed as an answer to an uncertain future. Universal ideas, a way of enhancing and enabling quick cooperation and problem solving by creating a familiar base concept to all involved. This does not stop at teaching points but has pervaded their technology as well. Rather than create long lasting works of unique perfection like we and others in the GalCom do, they instead create less perfect versions of the same thing that can be quickly upgraded, replaced or converted to other uses when needed or when damaged and worn down. Every single piece of their technology is directly compatible with another in some form or fashion. Their connecting cables all use the same ports across nearly all machines. Their parts are all compatible with other models, up to a certain point. I believe MCT Conrad called it, “Modular design” for “Drop in, Drop out functionality.” It certainly explains how they have made their technology just as durable as they are. If something breaks, the parts can be switched out at a moment’s notice for far cheaper than most anything the GalCom makes. Another triumph of their adaptability, though I am beginning to wonder if there isn’t some strange sort of direction behind their apparent chaotic nature. If so, not even MCT Conrad knew of it.

Family, they did not rise to control their planet, in fact, they still haven’t. They still live with wildly powerful storms and beasts that would tear them asunder in but a spare moment. But, by using their own natures and tools, they adapted to live with it and thrive in spite of it. Even if they don’t have a proper tool to do a job, they can often use a different tool and make it work. Never have I seen a species so capable of taking unrelated things and putting them together to create a functional…anything. Be it a response to a situation or a direct physical or mechanical need, they almost seem to thrive on being explicitly unprepared. They are the most adaptive and innovative race I have ever met or heard of. It is still strange to me, as I am sure it is strange to hear me tell. Most member species in the GalCom do the exact opposite of humanity by creating precise long reaching plans and taking solid direction, and none do the same. The GalCom as a whole is organized and methodical in our approaches to things. We Verach are tested for skills at young ages and then directed to those fields of study, so that we may put our best efforts into something that we have an aptitude for and can contribute to our community as a whole. This is how I became a Navigator, and how we all find our professions.

Humans do not. They have a word for this that we do not have in our language, but I will try and define it as best as I can. They call it “Passion”. It defines a strong desire and enthusiasm bordering on Love. They allow their young to experience all sorts of different tasks and skills, often on their own I might add, so that they may find something that they are personally “Passionate” about. Which leads to them eagerly learning all they can about the topic and applying themselves to their chosen field with a fervor, regardless of their starting skill level. It seems to me that this “Passion” is a major factor that leads directly to their innovativeness. Always seeking to improve and explore new boundaries of their chosen fields.

I asked MCT Conrad once if he was passionate about his work on the ship. He replied that it wasn’t a passion for him, simply a good job that let him travel and see things that he would not otherwise get to see, and that the physical exertion kept him in better physical form than working anywhere else on a ship with lower than average gravity for him. As our conversation continued, he went on to explain that you can always tell when a human is truly passionate about something. He said that they always seem to be enjoying themselves. When I asked why he always grinned when he donned the Heavy Exoskeletal Movement Interface if he wasn’t passionate about his work he laughed and said it was a silly little human thing. He said that when he wore it he, “Had a HEMI.” I do not understand the joke, but it does bring him enjoyment somehow, as his work brings joy to our Captain. For the younger ones, Exoskeletal Movement Interfaces enhance the user’s strength to assist them in lifting and moving heavy objects, such as cargo crates, while balancing the user for awkward loads. Having a human wearing one is impressive. He can lift and move the heaviest of creates faster than even the gantry crane. Because of this, we have been loading and unloading our cargo nearly twice as fast as before, improving our shipping potential and diminishing our down time, and thus increasing profits.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

But I have again lost the path, back to Passion. With his explanation and my observations, I believe this Passion means that Humans, and some other species that behave similarly, are likely to be happier at or at least enjoying their tasks. Which usually for humans means smiling easily, or at least being excited to talk at length about whatever the subject is. MCT Conrad declined to state what he felt passionate about. He claimed that it was not something that most of the GalCom would truly understand, and he did not want to spoil any relationships that he had built on the Dark Meridian. This was concerning to me, but I respected his decision. Little did I know then that I would get to see just what exactly he was passionate about. He was right, I do not understand it. But I, and now you, can appreciate the effects of it at the very least.

Which I believe brings us to the most important part of my missive, the attack. We had just jumped into our destination system, right outside the gravity threshold, and had started to make our way to the port. The shortest route to our destination ran us by an asteroid field, so I plotted the course, got it approved, and we set off. Unfortunately, there was a Clantor raider hiding in the field, waiting for someone to take the shortest route. We followed protocol and shut down our engines, hoping they would not see us as a worthy target for chase, but this day was not in our favor. They were not looking for active prey to hunt, but rather a raid for supplies and slaves. While our engines were off, they clamped on and boarded. One by one we were herded into a pressurized cargo bay where they gave their Ultimatum, the one that had led the humans to create their colorful phrase for them. They stated that we could go free if we could fight and win against them, otherwise we would be taken to their slave pits to await whatever fate they decided. The pirate crew consisted of primarily predatory species and were led by two Clantor. The leader was an elder Clantor, which I knew meant we were doomed. Again, for the young ones. Clantor have an exoskeleton, one that darkens and hardens with age. Elders are the largest, strongest and toughest among them. Their carapace has darkened to nearly black instead of the standard green and is akin to armored plating. We had no weapons that could get through it.

But we still had ones that would try. Our security staff was headed by two Ruulothi. A blooded elder warrior who worked as the security chief and a younger whom he was training to eventually replace him. Neither of them would submit to being slaves or eaten. The younger leapt to the challenge, eager to earn his claws. He fought well, at least that is what the Security Chief, Ruufarrl, claimed. That appears to be all that mattered to them, but it was a hopeless fight. His claws merely skittered across the Clantor’s body and left little more than scratches marring the surface. The Clantor briefly humored the young warrior before quickly catching him, and the result was about what one would expect when a giant insectoid with blades for arms catches anything it deems as food. Little more than a torn, bloody mess.

SC Ruufarrl himself then began to step forward but was stopped suddenly. MCT Conrad had held up his arm and stopped him, surprisingly easily as he was still wearing his HEMI. He looked at SC Ruufarrl and simply shook his head, then stepped forward to take his place. SC Ruufarrl tilted his head, but didn’t argue, another thing I did not expect given his own species’ background. He said later that he recognized the look in MCT Conrad’s eyes, and knew it was not his turn yet.

I was in shock. Surely MCT Conrad knew that it was an impossible feat to kill the Clantor without military grade weapons. But he was somehow very calm, and I was reminded about how he said nothing when he first came aboard and simply observed. He was doing it again, but this time very intently upon his opponent. His HEMI clanked as he walked, the loading claws retracted for the moment. Instead of deploying them, probably the only thing I could think of him having that might give him an advantage, he instead pulled out what appeared to be a packing tape dispenser.

I apologize family, you likely know nothing of this. I assume, though, that you have likely come across the marvel of Human engineering that is Space Tape, a vacuum compatible variant of a Human adhesive stripping called Duct Tape and a VERY sought-after export. Humans seem to have mastered the ability to pack and ship things in small spaces by using lightweight and disposable packaging instead of cargo canisters. To hold these things shut they created packing tape dispensers. They are small sticks with a roller of tape and a blade. They simply slap the tape roller on the container, pull it along the container to the desired length then angle the device to cut the tape to the size needed, sealing the container’s opening in the process. A simple tool for a simple job, but one that vastly improves efficiency.

As for the encounter, I thought MCT Conrad had gone insane and feared for what I was about to see. I was right to fear but, for the wrong reasons. The pirate stood almost a quarter again his height, even in the HEMI. It was an unstoppable armored death machine. Though I realize now that that could have described both of them.

MCT Conrad and the Clantor moved to engage at the same time. MCT Conrad ducked and stepped and dodged very quickly, using the weight and balancing mechanisms of the HEMI against the Clantor’s more limited mobility due to multiple legs to his advantage, getting around the side of the pirate and away from its lethal arms as opposed to facing it head on like the young Ruulothi had. MCT Conrad raised his metal sheathed arms to block the Clantor’s attacks when needed. Ruufarrl explained to me after that this is why he left the loading claws retracted, their greater mass and stronger metal prevented the Clantor’s blade arms from cutting into the HEMI’s mechanisms, he mused that MCT Conrad had learned much from watching even the brief clash between the Clantor and Ruffarrl’s subordinate. Ruufarrl appeared to understand much of what happened, and he watched with an elated intensity. I still don’t understand much of what he tried to explain. But he was most certainly impressed, something else that does not happen often with his species.

Each time they clashed, MCT Conrad left another strip of tape on the Clantor. They did not appear to be hindering it in any way, and I continued to question his reasoning, at least until they broke away to regain composure and re-evaluate each other. The Clantor was covered in tape strips. Some on his abdomen and thorax, some on his arms or legs, and even one on the side of his head and under its neck joint. MCT Conrad didn’t appear to be bothered at all, though his HEMI was starting to be cut apart.

MCT Conrad dropped his tape dispenser, pulled out a small signaling device, and gave a most predatory open mouth, teeth baring grin. It was then that I realized what he had done.

It was not a tape dispenser that he had been holding; it was a Human crafted void welder. It, and the following actions solidified a stray rumor that I had heard about humans but dismissed as fiction, and one that absolutely terrifies me now. Humans…Humans can turn anything into a weapon.

The tool itself solved the problem of repairing ships in the vacuum of space for Humans. We have different ways of doing repairs, but they all required a shipyard or complicated airlock fabrications before Humans arrived. The void welder held a wide strip of activating materials and elemental components, along with a receiver antenna, inside of a resistant but pliable adhesive casing. Every time a strip was cut off, the internal antenna would activate and be ready to receive a signal. Once it did, it would set off a chain reaction that would combine the materials and elemental components, creating a self-contained welding bead that could fasten plates to hulls and repair damaged structures, without the void preventing the combustion, at least until the components burned through the outer layers of the strip. It could also, as this one apparently was, be modified to cut instead of seal. Allowing for void salvage and rescue operations.

The Elder Clantor came after MCT Conrad again, he hit his button, and the pirate leader disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The cloud quickly cleared, and when we saw what was left of the Clantor I nearly voided my stomach. The horrendous stench of burned chitin and volatile welding/cutting components was bad enough, but the pile of pieces that were all that was left of the pirate was a far grislier mess than even the Ruulothi that it had killed. I will spare you the specific details, but it is not a sight that I will ever forget.

Despite this victory, the fight was not even close to being over. Angered by the loss of its sire, the second, much younger Clantor charged to attack. MCT Conrad had but moments to react, and rather than run or pick up the welder again, he deployed his loading claws. He blocked the first swing and ducked under the second. He caught the second arm from behind in one of his loading claws and clamped it down, then caught the Clantor’s neck in the other and clamped it down. Then...then he stretched. Clantor as it turns out, being insectoids, cannot stretch. It also appears that their neck joints are weaker than their shoulder joints, and the younger Clantor’s iridescent green exoskeleton was not nearly as resistant to pressure as the elder’s.

Immediately after he dropped the body of the second Clantor, the other pirates began to realize that they were losing control. A reptilian pirate got over its shock first and attacked him with a heavy electro-staff. The HEMI took this blow as MCT Conrad struck back with a closed claw, knocking the attacking pirate back into his fellows with a collapsed chest. This gave him precious time, as his HEMI was now malfunctioning due to sustained damage and electrical overload. He hit his emergency release and dropped out of it in time to meet the oncoming pirates who had avoided their thrown crewmember and recovered enough to act.

The first to reach him, a rodent-like Burrelan, was far ahead of the others due to their inherently fast reaction time. As MCT Conrad dropped out of his HEMI, he reached down to its tool harness and pulled out a friction torsioner. He slammed this up under the charging Burrelan’s narrow jaw, killing it instantly. He did not have time to recover the tool and scrambled to put distance between himself and his newest attackers.

MCT Conrad sidestepped and back pedaled, coming close to where I was. The entire time he moved he was pulling his belt from around his waist. Once he got it free, he lashed out with it, striking a rushing reptilian Sarekh pirate in their enlarged eye with the metal capped end and knocking it stumbling in pain. He recovered the free end in time to meet the second pirate, this one a mammalian. It swung at him with heavy closed fists and knuckles of exposed bone plates. What happened next, I can’t even begin to explain fully, even with SC Ruufarrl giving me specifics, but I will try.

MCT Conrad, seemed to shift rapidly. Not his body, but his method of movements. He went from loose, to rigid, to loose and back again. Using the belt as a barrier, he caught the pirate’s attack. Rapidly switching his hands, MTC Conrad knocked the arm down and out of the way at the same time he struck with pirate in the nose with his own, opposite fist. His hard stance then softened and snapped into rigid again pulling his top arm back and punching his low arm forward, not at the pirate, but both arms behind its head. Doing so snapped the loop he had created with the belt violently shut on the pirate’s throat, crushing its airways. As the pirate struggled and gagged, he again shifted low behind the pirate to put his shoulder directly under the back of their neck before rapidly standing straight again as he whipped his arms towards the floor.

There was a loud, wet crack as the pirate’s spine was torn apart in its neck. MCT Conrad let go of the belt and the pirate slid to the floor, as dead as the others. Never have I seen a creature move in such an unnatural manner. I hope to the home world and the Great Strider that I never do again.

And yes, you heard correctly. The Human, my crewmate MCT Conrad, killed a pirate…with a garment designed to hold his clothes in place. He killed warrior pirates, predators all, with a welder, an Exoskeletal Movement Interface, a piece of webbed cloth and a friction tool.

The remaining pirates had picked themselves up by then, but they did not move. SC Ruufarrl was not where I remembered him being. He had stepped forward and grabbed the one MCT Conrad had hit in the eye around the neck and had his claws and teeth in full display, now standing beside the Human and facing the remaining pirates. My two crewmates shared a look and nodded at each other before MCT Conrad spoke, giving our own Ultimatum this time.

“Surrender or die.”

Deprived of their leadership and shock troops and faced now with a blooded Ruulothi warrior and the Human that had already killed so many, they quickly surrendered.

MCT Conrad later admitted under questioning from the Captain and SC Ruufarrl that he had never been a soldier, he had just learned to fight because he wanted to, because he enjoyed the physical exertion of the training. This sort of explanation being commonplace amongst Humans, they thought little more of it beyond being a strange alien behavior, as he had said similar of his work in the loading bays.

It was not until after all was done and we arrived at the port with our newly “salvaged” ship and captured criminals that I realized something else, that he had not been telling the entire truth.

MCT Conrad…had been smiling…for the entire fight.

-End of Transmission-