Location:

Unnamed re-colonization planet

Perspective:

General biology specialist; hereby known as "Threedots" due to incompatible translational linguistics and subjects unique markings.

Notes:

Language translated as best as is possible; some concepts and descriptions are either implied or substituted for closest equivalent. Names of others are derived from unique identifiers.

The others may be right about it being a mistake to save the strange bipeds, but it is a bit too late for that now. Casual observation suggests that while they act like prey creatures, huddling in dry schools (for lack of better terminology) for safety in numbers and averting their gazes, there are those that are more predator like; adopting aggressive postures and watching every move we make. So far, there has been peace; we have been able to provide them with as much fresh water and fish as they require to sustain them. We also occasionally manage to bring them items from their former homes and fields of plants they were growing; I do not know if they understand the risks we take when obtaining these items, but if it keeps them docile and/or helps to foster a friendly relationship, it will probably be worth it. Strangely, some of these plants we bring them they eat while others they have been making into items to wear or use as tools; yet others they only ever compound and *then* eat.

I see the glint of intelligence in their eyes, but it appears we are too different to communicate. Any change in our chromatophore intensity, pattern or luminescence within normal communication ranges results in a reaction somewhere between none and what appears to be fear. It is possible that their eyesight is similar to that of the Canids, and has fewer distinct spectra available. Perhaps in time, they may trust us enough to study them, and in turn, they us. While this may not happen in my lifetime, for now I am content to help them survive at the very least. Perhaps, more of their kind will come and sneak these survivors out to safety off this world.

As I finish delivering the days find to the main group of bipeds, all those predatory eyes on me, seemingly weary and fearful with the small ones hidden behind the larger, I wonder to myself if they are spawn or perhaps just a different sex. They all look so vastly different from one another that it is hard to believe they are the same species. Yet again, I lament that they may never grow to trust us while I back away from the container I just delivered when I notice that most of them turn their predatory gazes past me, some of them appearing to bite at nothing.

A bright flash in the color and pattern of emergency assistance catches my drysuits attention; the suits optical reroute passages adjust to give me a limited view in the direction of the flash while its relatively slow ability to turn towards the call for assistance completes. It is Toroid, in her drysuit, attempting to stop one of the bipeds from digging through the grown coral wall. He manages to quickly snatch away the strange metal object, but the biped starts to grasp at the coral with its dull, fleshy claws, leaving behind a red liquid and what looks like chunks of claw flesh.

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I rush as much as is possible in a dry suit towards the surprising event; several of the other bipeds from the group near me jet past about as half as fast as I am in the open water, leaving me behind to catch up. The others already nearby pull the digging biped from the coral wall and hold him close, likely unsure if there will be a punishment. It is clear to me now that the biped is distressed, as it fights the others to get free while they hold him; it does not appear to be purely a form of restraint, however, and many of them seem to gently bite in its direction; again, reason unknown. I turn to Toroid, inspecting as much of her dry suit as is visible, and am satisfied that she was not attacked; had she been, we might have had to release the bipeds from our shelter and likely back into the violence of the Canids.

"Are you harmed?" I ask Toroid through the suits' optical communication system.

"I am unharmed, only startled and confused. Do you understand this behavior, Threedots?"

"Not as of yet." I state, making it clear that I will continue to support this endeavor, at least for now; our short conversation taking only one of the wounded bipeds now abnormal respiration events.

"What instigated this behavior?" I ask after a short observational pause of the bipeds.

"I delivered the nourishment and items from dryside, and this object seemed to cause it." Toroid presented me the object, which appeared to be made of several different materials and looked to be shaped to be held by biped meat claws. The purpose for the object was unknown, but the injured biped was using it to dig at the coral walls; perhaps it was a simple weapon of some sort.

The injured biped seems to have calmed somewhat, though the area of its head around its eyes is now wet with what looks like water, and its eyes are slightly tinted the same red as its injured claws. One of the others tears off a strip of fabric and starts wrapping the bipeds damaged claws with it. This is a revelation to me; they appear to be, if I am not mistaken, attempting to treat wounds. This implies sentience, community and a desire for group survival. I reflexively signal startled from my entire suit, and the bipeds seem to notice. Strange, this color pattern must be within their observable spectra.

"Threedots, is there an issue?"

"Toroid, can you explain what they are doing?" I respond. She turns slightly to get the injured biped within her visual range, and observes for a short while.

"I am not certain, but it would appear to be some kind of simple medical care." She states, seemingly unfazed.

"What are the implications, Toroid?" I ask her.

She turns back to me to see a complete lack of patterning, implying that this was a deep question meant to support or dispute a hypothesis.

It takes her much longer than it did me, but she is a biological construction specialist and not a general biologist as I am, and I was already looking for evidence to support my genuine hope. Toroids chromatophores ripple briefly, drawing attention of the bipeds before she responds.

"Based on observation of this behavior, Threedots, I assert that your initial action regarding the bipeds was not only correct, but required. If you can find further proof of sentience, cooperation or best yet, communication, I will join your squad and follow you on this new mission."

I roll a deep blue across my body to signal peace and gratitude, and the bipeds once more shift focus back to me. It almost looks like they can tell we are communicating but perhaps not in a way they understand or can follow.

"This discovery warrants an experiment. Toroid, return the metal object to them and see what they do."

"What if they become violent?" Toroid asks and emphasizes the abhorrent word using tentaclesign in order to bring her concerns beyond the theoretical and into the physical. Her usage of tentaclesign brings me pause, and has me reconsidering the experiment.

After a brief reconsideration I scan the two deliveries of nourishment and strange items from the surface, looking for something else that might work in its place; perhaps something that looks a little less dangerous. The drysuit locks on to movement behind me, showing two of the smaller bipeds approached Toroid, stopping within her grasping distance, looking up at him through her drysuit.

She turned slightly to see them better, and then did something entirely unexpected.