Mercedes sprinter van warning lights meaning

[Content Warning: This post contains explicit content and discusses sensitive topics.]
Dear Sugar Daddies,
I write this post with a sense of urgency, fueled by the desperation of countless sugar babies who are struggling to make ends meet. I want to shed light on the mental toll that scamming takes on us, and why some of us desperately request upfront payment. We're not all scammers; we're just seeking financial support to cover our tuition fees, bills, and monthly expenses. We deserve to be heard, understood, and given a chance.
Imagine this: You find yourself on the other side of a video call, vulnerable and exposed, hoping that you'll finally get paid for your services. You're playing with yourself, crossing boundaries you never thought you would, all in the pursuit of financial stability. And then it happens. The sugar daddy disappears, leaving you naked, humiliated, and without a cent. How would you feel? Broken, used, and betrayed. This is the reality for some of us, and it takes a heavy toll on our mental well-being.
Yes, there are scammers out there, and we acknowledge that. But there are also genuine sugar babies who are desperate for support. We plead with you, sugar daddies, to take the time to get to know us, to build trust and establish a connection before making assumptions. Ask us why we choose this lifestyle, why we've turned to sugar dating. Understand the circumstances that brought us here, and you'll see that we are more than just a means to an end.
To find genuine connections, both sugar daddies and sugar babies need to put in the effort. We implore you, sugar daddies, to raise your standards as well. Be discerning in your choices, and don't settle for empty promises or superficial transactions. Seek companionship and understanding, not just physical intimacy. A true sugar baby is someone who wants to form a genuine bond, to be there for you emotionally as well as financially.
To my fellow sugar babies who resort to scamming for meager sums like $10, it's time to raise our standards. We deserve better than engaging in deceptive practices that further perpetuate negative stereotypes. Instead, let's strive for genuine connections and fair arrangements that fulfill our financial needs. Together, we can change the narrative surrounding sugar dating and demand the respect we deserve.
So, sugar daddies, take a moment to reflect. Consider the mental toll that scamming takes on sugar babies who are genuinely seeking a way to better their lives. Let's break the cycle of mistrust and create a community built on understanding and authenticity. Both parties must invest time, effort, and compassion to forge meaningful connections that can truly transform lives.
In this urgent plea, I hope to evoke a sense of empathy and understanding. Let's strive for a world where sugar dating is seen as a legitimate means of support, where trust is built and nurtured, and where both sugar daddies and sugar babies can thrive.
Sincerely, A Struggling Sugar Baby

Source: Growing Up in the Lord: A Study for Teenage Boys (Ch. 7, 1994)
If you haven’t done so already, you will soon decide to take a girl out on a date. Dating a girl is a good time to enjoy the companionship of someone else. Women have a different perspective on life.
When you take different girls out on a date, you have a chance to see who is available. You also have a chance to firm up in your own mind what you will be looking for in a wife. Most boys go through a phase where they cannot stand any girl, except mothers who are tolerated within limits. When these boys reach adolescence, they quickly realize that girls can be interesting.
Taking a girl out on a date gives you a chance to practice getting along with women. Girls do not enjoy being treated the same way you treat other boys. The time you spend dating gives you a chance to learn how to act around a girl.
You need to be choosy about whom you will be going out with. Some girls will understand that, because you are a Christian, there are certain things that you will not do. Many girls will enjoy the fact that they don’t have to be constantly on their guard while they are with you. However, there are girls who will use every opportunity they can find to try to get you to do things that are sinful. It is a challenge for them to see how far they can get you to go. For your own soul’s sake, you are better off not dating such a girl. David warns us, in Psalms 1:1, not to associate with sinners. By continually exposing yourself to sin, you are tempted to commit a sin. That is why Paul said evil companions will corrupt your good morals (I Corinthians 15:33).
Group dates are a good way to start out dating when you are young. If you pick your companions wisely, there will be fewer temptations in your way. A group gives you a chance to get acquainted with several people at once. You can also observe how the other guys treat their dates. Perhaps your first date won’t be so awkward when it is shared with others. Some good outings with a group may be to go bowling, play a few rounds of putt-putt golf, go canoeing, have a picnic and play softball or volleyball, or gather a group of young people together after church to eat ice cream.
Before you head out, spend some time thinking about what you will talk about during your date. In our society, boys tend to think and talk in terms of actions. Girls tend to think and talk about feelings. For example, if a boy and a girl were talking about an Olympic event, the boy would be interested in the score and the types of moves the athlete made. The girl would be interested in how the athlete was handling the stress and the athlete’s reaction to the scoring. Neither viewpoint is good or bad. They are just different. It is those differences that make conversation on your first date so difficult. Spend some time thinking about what you would like to know about this girl you are dating.
One day, all too soon, you will begin dating to find someone suitable to be your lifetime companion. If you want a companion, you must learn to be companionable. Talk about your interests and find out about hers. Do you enjoy similar things? If the two of you don’t have anything to talk about, what would marriage to such a person be like?
Make plans for the evening in advance and let your parents know where you expect to be. I know that many of you would rather keep your plans between you and your girlfriend, but you never know when an emergency may come up. Telling your parents also gives you a chance to see if your plans are respectable and appropriate. If you are too embarrassed to tell your folks, then perhaps you are planning something that a Christian ought not to do. Continue to carefully examine your motives.
Once you are out on your date, avoid changing your plans at the last minute. Don’t let your emotions lead you to making a little detour to a quiet place where you can be alone with your girlfriend. It is a great temptation to go too far when there is no one around to see what you are doing. Don’t go parking in the dark. Even if the first few times you don’t do anything shameful, it is continually tempting to go a little farther and to get a little closer. If you want time to talk, find a well-lighted place with other people around. It will encourage you to act respectfully. Finally, don’t spend time at your house or hers when no one else is around. Many boys and girls find their own home comfortable and safe, so they relax their guard and do things they would not do in public. Most teenage pregnancies come about because a boy and a girl had sex at home. Somehow, people convince themselves there is no harm done if no one will see them. Don’t let Satan fool you!
In a few years, one person that you have dated will stand out among the others. You will find yourself going out with her more often than anyone else. You may even decide to stop dating anyone else. Dating only one person is called “going steady.” Going steady with a girl for a while is a logical step before asking her the big question. It gives you a little more time to finally decide if this is really the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. Just don’t rush into it too soon. You can’t make a good decision if you only dated one person your whole life. There are plenty of years ahead of you, so don’t limit yourself to one person too soon.
You know you are ready to go steady with a girl when you have dated other girls but you prefer this person’s company over everyone else. When you want to spend more time with this person and dating someone else will interfere with your time, then perhaps it is time to go steady.
However, if you feel pressure to date one person exclusively because everyone else is doing it, then you should reconsider. Some boys rush into going steady because they fear there won’t be anyone else. This is another poor reason to go steady with a girl. There are hundreds of girls in the world with whom you could happily live. Don’t get the idea that there is just one right person for you. Take your time. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, so don’t rush the preliminary stages. Another bad reason for going steady is to hold on to a “good catch.” Some people pride themselves on having the prettiest or smartest girl in school as their exclusive girlfriend. Remember our discussion about the pride of life. Date a girl because you like her and not because you like the admiration of the other boys.
As you get comfortable with that special girl, keep in mind that there is a real temptation to take liberties with her that you would not take with other girls. Now is not the time to break God’s law because you allow your emotions get the better of you. Far too many teenagers allow their emotions to flare and find themselves tempted to have sex during their date.
A common excuse given for having sex on a date is that you need to find out before hand if you are compatible or not. You could have sex with any girl. How familiar you are with having sex has nothing to do with compatibility. You should not be looking for a bed partner while you are dating. You should be looking for someone to share the rest of your life with. Once you and your girlfriend are married, you will have plenty of opportunity to learn how to have sex. There is no benefit gained by breaking God’s law and having sex before you are married.
What is Love?
I’ve often told you in this book that various feelings and reactions are not love. Having an erection doesn’t mean you are in love. Wanting to have sex with someone doesn’t mean you are in love. The actual act of sex is not love, although it is called “making love” in today’s slang. To understand what love really is, we need to turn over to I Corinthians 13:1-7.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become as sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophesy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing. Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. I Corinthians 13:1-7

Paul is explaining what true love between Christians is like. The description also beautifully describes what the love between a husband and wife should be like.
When you love someone, you are willing to put up with their faults. You understand that people make mistakes and that changes take time, if they come at all. Even when she says something mean to you, you will only return kindness back. Love involves trusting the other person with all your heart. You don’t envy her when she gets a big promotion at work or is honored for the things she has done in the community. Instead, you rejoice with her. A loving husband doesn’t boast about how good he is and ignores his wife’s accomplishments. What you do is much less important to you than what she does. If you truly love someone, you won’t say things that will hurt her feelings. She is much more important to you than your own concerns. As a result, you will keep a tight reign on your anger and not lash out when things don’t go your way.
Loving couples don’t accuse each other of wickedness. Too many marriages are broken because the husband saw a man leave the house or found some note and immediately leaped to the conclusion that his wife is having an affair. However, sometimes it is obvious that sin is taking place. When this happens, a loving husband will stand firm with the Lord. He will do everything possible to bring his wife back to the way of righteousness.
Being in love means you are optimistic. You are always hoping that things will get better. That hope helps you to get over the many rough times that you and your wife will face together.
Most of all, love doesn’t fail. Planning to marry someone for a time to see if it will work out means you are not in love. You don’t fall in and out of true love. Love holds on through good times and through bad times.

The Difference Between Love and Infatuation

Many people confuse being infatuated with someone for being in love with someone. Each of us has a mental picture of the ideal companion. That mental picture is usually based on various physical attributes. She should be so tall, with a pretty nose, brown eyes, etc. Occasionally you meet someone who closely matches your mental ideal. You get excited and believe you have fallen in love at first sight.
This is not really love, but infatuation. You can tell the difference, because infatuation dies over time. I guarantee that while you are moonstruck with a girl you won’t believe that it will ever end, but it usually does. As you get to know the girl and find out about her likes and dislikes, you realize that she is not as perfect as you imagined her to be. The word “imagined” is the key word. You have no idea what a person is like when you first meet them. Getting to know a person takes time.
Over time an infatuation will either die off or be replaced by true love. When you are truly in love, you will be aware of a person’s flaws, but you have made a rational decision that you can live with them. A person who is infatuated with someone will either be totally unaware of the flaws in that person, pretend that those flaws are not there, pretend that those flaws don’t matter, or believe that they can change that person over time. The last attitude can be disastrous for a relationship. People do change at times, but it is not very often and it is rarely because someone caused them to change. People change themselves because they want to make the change. When you choose a woman to be your wife, you should look at who she is and not who you think you can make her into. If you do not like who she is today, you are taking a big risk thinking she will be different tomorrow. In other words, if she doesn’t change before marriage, then she certainly won’t change after marriage.
Talk freely with your intended companion. Some men are afraid to tell their girlfriend everything they are thinking for fear of driving them away. If your true thoughts would drive your girlfriend away, then the two of you were probably not cut out for each other. Both of you would be better off looking for someone else. Nothing could be worst than to find out you have made a lifetime commitment to someone who can’t stand you.
In summary, true love is based on reality. Infatuation is based on fantasy. Before committing yourself to someone, make sure you both have a firm grip on reality.

A Small Exercise

Take a sheet of paper and write down the things that you hope to find in the woman you will one day marry. Is it important that she be good looking? Does it matter to you if she is taller than you? Do you hope she is a good cook? Should she like children? How many children do you hope to raise? Give it serious consideration and don’t base your answers on someone you are dating at the moment. It would be better to work on this when there is no one in particular competing for your heart. Talk to your dad or an elder or the preacher about it, but make sure that it is your list showing what is important to you.
Try ranking your points. What is the most important? Which things would be nice, but really don’t matter that much?
It may seem a little early to start thinking about whom you plan to marry. After all, marriage is still several years off. However, if you know what you are looking for, then when you finally meet the girl of your dreams, you can be confident that you are making a sound decision that you will never regret.
Have a rough list done before you start chapter 8. Through the years, continue to revise your list. The things that are important to you at 13 may seem childish at 18, so continue to think about these things.

Pyongyang, June 8 (KCNA) -- A spokesperson for the Maritime Administration of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) issued the following press statement on Thursday:
Recently, a media information service official of the International Maritime Organization (IMO) has reportedly clarified via U.S. media its stand that if the DPRK launches a satellite without prior notice, it can adopt a resolution of denunciation as it did in the past.
Such stand of IMO runs completely counter to its existing stand that prior notice on satellite launch is not needed in the light of the requirements of its convention and custom. Therefore, we cannot but express strong regret and displeasure at the fickle attitude of the organization.
As regards the fact that IMO has taken a very unfair and prejudiced stand on the DPRK's satellite launch, its just and legitimate exercise of sovereignty, the Maritime Administration of the DPRK clarifies the truth once again in order to help the international community correctly understand and recognize the issue concerning the DPRK's prior notice on the satellite launch.
On May 30, the DPRK e-mailed a prior report on satellite launch to IMO in the name of its Maritime Administration and the director of the IMO maritime security bureau replied that it is not obligatory to inform the organization of the satellite launch according to the requirements of convention and custom.
On the same day, IMO told Reuters that the DPRK had already sent advance notice on satellite launch and that the notice is just a formal measure and not a requirement as the navigational warning is directly reported to vessels via the world navigational warning system.
This means that the IMO side made it clear that no country has an obligation under international law to exclusively inform IMO of planned satellite launch, with the exception of issuing a navigational warning through the world navigational warning system.
In actuality, the DPRK sent navigational warning data, ahead of its satellite launch, to the Maritime Safety Agency of Japan, a regional trouble-shooting body, as required by the regulations of IMO. And although it was not obligatory, we informed IMO of this with good intent in consideration of the usage that we had made prior notice to the IMO side.
Nevertheless, on the very day the DPRK launched a satellite, IMO adopted a resolution full of unreasonable contents saying that it strongly denounces the DPRK for launching missile without any prior notice and urges the DPRK to strictly observe the prior notice regulations concerning the world navigational warning system.
Most deplorable is the illogical and senseless stand and attitude shown by IMO, a professional UN organization which should regard equity and specialty as its basic principle as it is not a maritime supervisory organ of an individual country or a non-governmental body.
We cannot but take issue with IMO over the fact that it brands the DPRK's just exercise of the right to self defence for coping with the military threats by the U.S. and its vassal forces as an illegal activity going contrary to the UNSC "resolution".
IMO is just a professional UN organization with a mission to promote the technical cooperation among UN member states in the international maritime security field. It is by no means an affiliated body for supervising the implementation of the UNSC resolutions.
If it is the stand of IMO that the resolution criticizing the DPRK is only a document reflecting the standpoint of and response from its member states and IMO has nothing to do with it, we urge IMO to make clear its specific attitude and position before us and the international community.
We take into consideration the fact that the secretary general of IMO visited the DPRK delegation on the day, when an anti-DPRK resolution was adopted at a meeting of the Maritime Security Committee of IMO, to ask about our stand, and the standpoint expressed by its media information service official that if the IMO council is informed of the DPRK side's concern, it will be handled appropriately.
Availing itself of this opportunity, the Maritime Administration of the DPRK re-clarifies an official stand that it denounces and rejects and never recognizes IMO's unfair and illegal anti-DPRK resolution, and demands that the IMO side reflect our just viewpoint in its official document.
We will wait for IMO's official reply to this. -0-

Pyongyang, June 8 (KCNA) -- A spokesperson for the Maritime Administration of the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) issued the following press statement on Thursday:
Recently, a media information service official of the International Maritime Organization (IMO) has reportedly clarified via U.S. media its stand that if the DPRK launches a satellite without prior notice, it can adopt a resolution of denunciation as it did in the past.
Such stand of IMO runs completely counter to its existing stand that prior notice on satellite launch is not needed in the light of the requirements of its convention and custom. Therefore, we cannot but express strong regret and displeasure at the fickle attitude of the organization.
As regards the fact that IMO has taken a very unfair and prejudiced stand on the DPRK's satellite launch, its just and legitimate exercise of sovereignty, the Maritime Administration of the DPRK clarifies the truth once again in order to help the international community correctly understand and recognize the issue concerning the DPRK's prior notice on the satellite launch.
On May 30, the DPRK e-mailed a prior report on satellite launch to IMO in the name of its Maritime Administration and the director of the IMO maritime security bureau replied that it is not obligatory to inform the organization of the satellite launch according to the requirements of convention and custom.
On the same day, IMO told Reuters that the DPRK had already sent advance notice on satellite launch and that the notice is just a formal measure and not a requirement as the navigational warning is directly reported to vessels via the world navigational warning system.
This means that the IMO side made it clear that no country has an obligation under international law to exclusively inform IMO of planned satellite launch, with the exception of issuing a navigational warning through the world navigational warning system.
In actuality, the DPRK sent navigational warning data, ahead of its satellite launch, to the Maritime Safety Agency of Japan, a regional trouble-shooting body, as required by the regulations of IMO. And although it was not obligatory, we informed IMO of this with good intent in consideration of the usage that we had made prior notice to the IMO side.
Nevertheless, on the very day the DPRK launched a satellite, IMO adopted a resolution full of unreasonable contents saying that it strongly denounces the DPRK for launching missile without any prior notice and urges the DPRK to strictly observe the prior notice regulations concerning the world navigational warning system.
Most deplorable is the illogical and senseless stand and attitude shown by IMO, a professional UN organization which should regard equity and specialty as its basic principle as it is not a maritime supervisory organ of an individual country or a non-governmental body.
We cannot but take issue with IMO over the fact that it brands the DPRK's just exercise of the right to self defence for coping with the military threats by the U.S. and its vassal forces as an illegal activity going contrary to the UNSC "resolution".
IMO is just a professional UN organization with a mission to promote the technical cooperation among UN member states in the international maritime security field. It is by no means an affiliated body for supervising the implementation of the UNSC resolutions.
If it is the stand of IMO that the resolution criticizing the DPRK is only a document reflecting the standpoint of and response from its member states and IMO has nothing to do with it, we urge IMO to make clear its specific attitude and position before us and the international community.
We take into consideration the fact that the secretary general of IMO visited the DPRK delegation on the day, when an anti-DPRK resolution was adopted at a meeting of the Maritime Security Committee of IMO, to ask about our stand, and the standpoint expressed by its media information service official that if the IMO council is informed of the DPRK side's concern, it will be handled appropriately.
Availing itself of this opportunity, the Maritime Administration of the DPRK re-clarifies an official stand that it denounces and rejects and never recognizes IMO's unfair and illegal anti-DPRK resolution, and demands that the IMO side reflect our just viewpoint in its official document.
We will wait for IMO's official reply to this. -0-

The Vanishing Lake: Part 1
Deep in the heart of the forbidding forest, where shadows dance and whispers coil through the trees, there lies a place of unspeakable horror—the Vanishing Lake. It is a cursed realm that devours the souls of the unsuspecting, leaving behind only despair and unanswered questions.
On a moonless night, when the air was thick with a sense of impending doom, two young girls, Emma and Olivia, dared to defy the warnings that echoed through the town. The allure of the macabre beckoned them, luring them into the depths of the forest like moths to a flame.
Armed with flashlights and trembling with both excitement and trepidation, they ventured through the gnarled trees, their senses assaulted by the suffocating silence. The forest seemed to breathe, its darkened heart pulsating with an ancient, malevolent energy.
As they approached the Vanishing Lake, a misty veil descended, shrouding their surroundings in an ethereal haze. The girls exchanged nervous glances, but their morbid curiosity propelled them forward. They could feel the unseen eyes of the forest upon them, cold and unrelenting.
The lake's inky waters lay before them, devoid of life and light. A bone-chilling wind whispered secrets of forgotten tragedies, urging them to turn back. But their youthful bravado consumed their reason, and they stepped closer to the water's edge, their hearts pounding in their chests.
Suddenly, a mournful melody filled the air, its haunting notes reverberating through their very souls. It was a tune from an age long forgotten, a dirge that echoed the sorrow of the lost. The sound burrowed deep within their minds, unraveling their sanity thread by thread.
Unable to resist the siren call, Emma and Olivia stumbled into a dilapidated rowboat that lay abandoned nearby. As they pushed away from the shore, the water beneath them seemed to pulse with a sinister life, its dark depths teeming with unseen horrors.
The boat drifted aimlessly, carried by an unseen force toward the heart of the lake. The mist thickened, swallowing their feeble cries for help. Their flashlights flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced along the water's surface like specters of the damned.
As the moon momentarily emerged from the clouds, its pale light illuminated the horrifying truth—the lake was not empty. It writhed with grotesque tendrils, lashing out from below, hungry for flesh and soul. Panic seized Emma and Olivia, their minds teetering on the precipice of sheer terror.
In one horrifying instant, the boat lurched violently, sending the girls sprawling into the water. They thrashed against the icy grip, their pleas for mercy drowned out by the cacophony of tortured souls. Desperation consumed them as they were dragged under, their bodies entangled in the slimy tendrils that coiled around them like serpents.
Their final moments were a symphony of agony and despair, lost in the depths of the Vanishing Lake—a place where screams go unheard, and souls are condemned to an eternity of suffering.
The town of Ravenwood mourned the loss of Emma and Olivia, forever haunted by the horrifying fate that awaited those who dared to challenge the darkness. The legend of the Vanishing Lake grew, its malevolence spreading like a festering wound, forever etching itself into the minds of those who dared to remember.
Beware, dear reader, for the Vanishing Lake beckons from the shadows, hungry for new victims. And once it claims your soul, you too will become a part of the haunting chorus, forever trapped in its watery abyss.
The Cursed Echoes: Part 2
Deep within the forsaken woods surrounding the Vanishing Lake, an unholy presence stirred, fueled by the blood-soaked memories of its victims. It craved vengeance, yearning to ensnare those who dared to challenge its dominion. Unbeknownst to the world, Lily's triumph had awakened an ancient evil, hungry for new souls to claim.
Years after Lily's encounter, a young couple, Alex and Megan, arrived in Ravenwood, seeking solace in the tranquility of the town. Unaware of the Vanishing Lake's sinister reputation, they ventured into the heart of the cursed forest, drawn by an unexplainable force.
As they delved deeper, the air grew thick with an oppressive darkness. Whispering shadows danced along the path, taunting their every step. Megan clutched Alex's arm, her heart pounding with a nameless dread. But they pressed on, their curiosity entwined with a morbid fascination.
As they reached the lake's edge, the murky water reflected a moonless sky, devoid of any semblance of life. An eerie hush enveloped them, broken only by a haunting melody that reverberated through the stillness. It clawed at their sanity, casting a spell of unyielding terror.
Ignoring the warnings etched into the depths of their souls, Alex and Megan boarded the rowboat, their hands trembling. The vessel rocked with an unnatural rhythm, as if alive with the ancient curse that plagued the lake. With each stroke of the oars, the water beneath them roiled, dark shapes writhing just beneath the surface.
The haunting melody intensified, its symphony of malevolence driving Alex and Megan to the brink of madness. Whispers slithered through the air, malicious and seductive, promising untold horrors if they dared to turn back. Fear gnawed at their resolve, but it was too late to escape the clutches of the Vanishing Lake.
As the boat drifted farther from shore, time lost all meaning. The moon's light waned, leaving them in a desolate realm of perpetual twilight. The once-familiar forest faded into a maddening labyrinth of distorted trees and twisted shadows. Panic gripped their souls, a realization that they had become trapped within the lake's insidious grasp.
Their screams pierced the suffocating silence as the water churned beneath them. Skeletal hands, their flesh decayed and slimy, emerged from the depths, reaching for their vulnerable bodies. The once-harmonious melody transformed into a cacophony of agonized shrieks, an orchestra of tormented souls crying out for release.
In a desperate attempt to escape, Alex and Megan lunged overboard, their bodies plunging into the icy grip of the lake. The water swallowed them whole, dragging them into a vortex of darkness. Their screams dissipated into nothingness, swallowed by the cursed echoes of the Vanishing Lake.
Days turned into weeks, and the couple was declared missing, their fate forever entwined with the unholy waters. Their families mourned, haunted by the harrowing tales of their loved ones' demise. The town of Ravenwood sank deeper into despair, knowing that the curse of the Vanishing Lake could claim anyone who dared to disturb its slumber.
The cursed echoes continue to reverberate through the generations, a chilling reminder that some nightmares are more than mere legends. To this day, those who stumble upon the Vanishing Lake risk becoming lost within its eternal darkness, their souls eternally tormented by the malevolent spirits that dwell within its depths.
So, heed this warning, dear reader, and never underestimate the power of the unseen. For the Vanishing

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Well, this is new at least.
I've never had to quell a riot before.
Empress, please. This is more a brawl. When there's a riot, we'll let you know. We have seen riots, and this is no riot.
Okay, fine. There's something like two dozen people here and I see what looks like to be more security people, Mariens and Aviens and some Azurians on the edge of things, trying to get a handle on what is going on. Note to myself, I should go visit their offices later. Chairs from nearly restaurants have been taken and broken into clubs, and there is shouting and smoke and the clashing of flesh on feather on bone.
Wait, why is there smoke?
"Ava, Um'reli is there a fire here? I see and smell smoke."
"Um, one moment Melody.... Yes, there is a report of a small fire, but there's also this warning - it says something like Fire Suppression Offline, local assistance is needed." Sounds like we had some kind of Starbase wide fire suppression system but it doesn't work anymore."
All the Builder controlled parts of this place are broken. What is going on here? Was it on purpose or did they just fail because nobody was around to maintain them? "See if you can get it back online. It doesn't have to work forever, just to see if we can knock down the smoke. Turn the air scrubbers and air cycling too here, I don't want people getting ill from the smoke."
"On it, Melody." Um'reli is checking into it while Ava is helping with an overview of the area. It's a wide open area, kind of like the promenade on the lower level, but this area is... nicer? It has parks and gardens! We need to come up here more often. Why is it so drab down closer to the docks.
Well, it's nicer when a riot isn't going on I mean.
Sigh. Fine. Let's stop the riot and figure out what is going on. I take a moment and concentrate, and my crown and wings spring into existence. In fact, let's make those wings bigger and brighter. I'm going to need to be seen and heard. I connect to the Starbase, locate the local public address system - mentally wave to Um'reli and Ava as I go by! - and then...
S̴̨̲̗̥̯̯̩̤͒̎̔̽͊̐̚ṫ̸̝̱͈̙̆͋̌o̴͎͗̌̿̀̍̏̿̚͝p̸͚̐̀̕ ̶̯̌̈́f̵̤͙̪̖̗͖̳̼̺̐̏̊̒͒̈́̀̚̚i̵̡͈̼̱̭̼̻͖̳͋͒̄̊̾͌g̵͚͐͆̀͂͑̌h̶̛̤͙̆̋̍̄͑̓͠t̶̘̖̪͒́i̴̢̞̜̠̠͋n̷̛̪͚͙̞͚͒̀̃̔͂͊̊g̶̢̡̠͍̥̙̹̼̓̃͗ͅ!̶̨̥͎̄͘͝
I swear, it never gets old. Like I pressed pause on a video, everyone immediately stops. I put some work into my command this time, I specified fighting so that they can still move and breathe, but sure enough, everyone stops.
I put a little extra oomph into my presentation and tower over everyone. They turn towards me, fearful and I have their attention.
"Now then. What is going on here. Why are you fighting?"
Everyone starts talking all at once.
"-They started it when-"
"Those liars said that the Empress wasn't-"
"-There isn't enough food for-"
Wait that one. Another one about food? I heard a few of those at the presentation earlier.
"Cease your chatter. You. What was that about food?" I point to the Azurian close to me who mentioned food when they were all talking at once.
"Empress, the results of the last two harvests have been 15 and 20 percent lower than in previous seasons. The population here isn't dropping either. If this keeps up, the garden planetoid won't be able to support us!"
Okay that's serious, but it's not like ' drop everything and have a riot' serious - at least not at the numbers they gave me. What else is going on?
"Thank you, it's important to learn this. Please come to the Throne later and explain to me in more detail about your concerns. That's not enough to have a riot though, is it?"
"Oh the riot? No, that's not about the food supply. It's about them-" They point across the plaza "-not believing that you're holy."
Oh.
One of them, a Aviens, shouts from across the area "You're just someone who showed up and got lucky! You're not holy at all!"
Hisses and curses from this side of the plaza.
Awkward.
Well hold up now. This isn't fair to me. I never said I was holy, they just decided.
You did elevate The Smell of Soil After Rain to bishop during that presentation yesterday. I wonder if they're going around causing trouble in your name.
Hmm.
I stride out across the plaza to the other side. As I approach the people who think I'm not holy they shrink back. I wonder why for a moment and realize my wings and crown are still burning bright. Oops. Nothing like trying to convince people to stop arguing about my alleged godhood while looking like an angry God. I tone down the wings and crown (but I don't remove them entirely) and approach the Aviens who yelled that I wasn't holy. "Was The Smell of Soil After Rain coming around, giving you a hard time?"
The Aviens visibly crumbled. "They said that my family would be forgotten if I didn't attend services. That you ordered it. They said they'd remove my children from school."
What.
"What? No. Absolutely not. I am Empress, I don't need to be your God too. So long as you recognize me as Empress and Builder that's enough. Worship the way you please, or don't worship at all. Atheism it not forbidden."
I turn back to both sides of the crowd. "I will not punish those who choose not to worship me! So long as you accept that I am Empress, that I rule here, that's enough. Nobody here has to also worship me. I will... speak to my Bishop about their... enthusiasm. Nobody here will be compelled to worship. So please. Return to your homes after you assist the security forces here in cleanup."
Everyone looks around at each other, then back at me, still with crown and glowing wings, then back at each other and starts picking up litter and broken pieces of chair.
I turn back to the Aviens who I was talking to, put away my wings and crown and kneel down gently to speak just to them very quietly. They look up at me wide eyed.
"Just for your own information - and if pressed by anyone else I will deny it forever - you're right. I'm just a person who did something stupid, and now I'm Empress. My name is Melody, I like coffee and computer systems and being able to have time alone to read." It's almost a whisper.
They blink in surprise. This was completely unexpected for them. "Hi Melody, my name is Roar of Thunder and I work in an office building down on the docking level. I'm not entirely sure what our job is, but it's not difficult work. I enjoy cooking during my free time."
I stand back up. "It's wonderful to meet you Roar of Thunder. I love your name too." I look around as people continue cleaning up. "Tell you what Thunder. Come up to the Throne tomorrow. I bet we can find a more... stimulating job for you with us."
"That's... that's a wonderful opportunity Empress. I will be there tomorrow."
I spend a few minutes helping clean up the riot. I mean, why not, I'm here already, everyone will love it, and it's something to do. In the meantime Ava and Um'reli seem to get the fire supression going enough to fog some water over the smokier parts of the plaza and soon enough the smoke has dissipated and things are - if not clean - then at least cleaner. I give my thanks and as I get up to leave, one of the Mariens in the security coloration approaches me.
"Empress, thank you for coming up. We didn't even get to report back to headquarters that a riot had broken out yet, how did you know?"
This time I grin impishly. "This is just one of the things that can happen now that the Builders are back. We have eyes and ears all over and can assist quickly when needed. If you'll notice, we even got the old fire suppression foggers going in this sector. Hopefully soon we can get them operating everywhere again."
The Mariens looks amazed and salutes me sharply, then bows. "I am known as Kilad, Empress. I know my supervisor would love to thank you personally."
Ah wonderful! I was hoping to go see more of the security forces. What a nice coincidence.
"Please lead the way Kilad. I would love to meet them."
Kilad walks me across the plaza and through a park. There are trees and greenery, but of course I don't recognize any of the plants. They're very dark green and fragrant though. I wonder if they originated on a planet that has a dimmer star than Earth or our other colonies. Less light might cause them to evolve darker coloration to squeeze every drop of energy out of a weaker star.
We walk through the park and come out in another plaza, just like the one near the train station. At the far end of this one is another large, original looking building made out of the same stone as the Starbase and Administration offices and Bank. Clearly some of the institutions here were original - or the buildings were and they have been repurposed.
Kilad opens the door and I follow. Inside is a bustle of activity. Mariens, Aviens, and all the others are here. The Mariens are all colored the bright yellow of security while those without chromatophores are wearing smart yellow uniforms. Kilad walks up to a low desk in the back of the atrium. There's an Azurian sitting there in a yellow uniform with silver piping along the top. They must be the supervisor. Kilad salutes the Azurian and gives a report.
"Kilad, returning from the suspected riot near the hub station. Suspicions were confirmed, it was a riot between people arguing about the holiness - or not - of the Empress. Luckily the Empress herself showed up to quell the riot and explain that while people can worship her if so desired nobody will be forced to. She also explained that she will speak to her new Biship, The Smell of Soil After Rain about his proselytizing and ask him to tone it down." Kilad gestures behind themselves to me. "Additionally, the Empress herself is here, she'd like to speak to you."
At that, the Azurian looks behind Kilad and nods. I love how it seems like every single Azurian doesn't really care that I'm the Empress. It's refreshing. "Empress." They nod. "Thank you for your assistance, and for the official confirmation that nobody is required to worship you."
"It's quite all right. I'm glad to be able to get the word out that worship is not compulsory. Everyone is free to worship - or not worship - however they see fit. Can you explain to me what the role of your forces is here? It doesn't have to be a whole history, just the basics."
"Yes, Empress. We are the Security force on Reach of the Might of Vzzx" He pronounces Vzzx with a pop on the end. "This station is 100 people, and there are at least a dozen more across the whole of the Reach. We mostly help settle small disputes, assist with investigating petty crime and quell the occasional riot. For the most part, the residents of the Reach are relatively calm and open to working together. There is friction here and there, same as with anywhere, and with living spaces so tight conflict can break out. But, there is a strong sense of collaboration and community here too. You probably saw people cleaning up the riot they caused after it was quelled. That's not because you were there, that's a normal occurrence"
"Do you know any history? Do you know the role of your forces when they Builders were here in force?"
They indicate no, and seem a little sad about it. "Few records exist from then. When I was young, I asked some of the oldest staff here and they made it sound like things were much the same back then as now. It was probably different in that there were Builders able to detect and react to things sooner - like you and your Builders did today - but I imagine the day to day operations were much the same then as now."
"Thank you for the history lesson. What's your name?"
"I am Commander Sep."
"Thank you again Sep!" I incline my head slightly and walk out. I do wonder if I'm being too casual with everyone for a moment, but really this is who I am, how I want to rule. I hear FarReach's words and I'm reminded that she thought I was changing. That's not what I want to happen. I'm going to keep on walking around and talking to people and trying to learn as much about my new home as I can.
My new home. That's what the Reach is.
And I'm here to protect it and its residents.
I spend the evening up here visiting shops, talking to people, trying to learn as much as I can. It turns out most everyone here went down to the Throne this morning, so people are open later today to allow folks who missed their morning shopping to be able to get things.
I stop by a restaurant that looks nice and go to get dinner by myself. After I shoo away the entire staff who practically fell over themselves to be the one who took care of me and gently remind them they have other patrons who also need help, I enjoy my meal and even try out some of the tea that everyone here seems to drink. It's no coffee, but it's pleasant in its own way. It's hot and sweet and herbal and smells slightly of anise. I should see if I can get more to bring back. I think Um'reli might like it.
After dinner, I stroll slowly back towards the train and connect to the Reach and look for Ava and Um'reli. "Ava, Um'reli, where are you?"
"We're back at the Royal Dawn. Where are you Melody, it's so late!"
Is it? Hmm, I should figure out timekeeping here. It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since I left FarReach, I'm probably still on ship's time.
"Oh, after the brawl, I went and met the Security forces up here, and then I walked around talking to people, and got a nice dinner. Um'reli you have got to try this tea they have! I think you'd really like it."
"Oh? Thanks Melody, I will check it out next time we eat. Um, are you coming back? Omar is back too, he has a report about the High Line."
"I'm walking back to the train station now, I'll be home in a bit. No more than half an hour probably. Omar, do you want to tell me about it now while I walk or wait until I get back?"
"How about when you get back Melody. It still odd talking to people like this, it feels like I'm having a discussion with myself."
"Sure thing Omar, see you in a bit."
I make my way back to the hub station just as a train pulls away. As I watch it go, an Aviens is running down the platform. "No no no no, I can't miss my train! They're going to be so mad!" They reach the end of the platform and their feathers ripple and they look despondent.
"What's wrong? What about the next train?"
They look up at me and then see who I am and jump a little." E-Empress! I didn't expect to see you here. Um" And they bow.
"Yes yes, that's fine, but not really necessary unless I'm like, doing royal stuff. What's the matter? You sounded so sad."
"Oh Empress, that was the last train! There isn't another until tomorrow! I have to get back down to my home, my parents are going to be so upset to find out that I missed the last train home again and have nowhere to stay." They're practically in tears.
"Oh no! Well, I have to get down a level too so I can go home. I had no idea that was the last train - I'm still getting used to time here, it's different than where I'm from. Let me see what I can do. What's your name?"
"Oh, thank you, thank you Empress! My name is Sound of the City."
"It's so nice to meet you Sound of the City! Let's see about finding a way for both of us to get home."
I lead them to a seat on the platform and sit next to them. They snuggle up next to me and yawn deeply. Surprised, I look over and realize they're so young! It's just a child. If they were human, they might be a teen. All the more reason to get them home. I lean back a little and connect and search for the train subsystem.
Ah, there it is. They were right, that was the last scheduled train. Luckily though, when you're a Builder, you don't have to worry about things like schedules. Let's see, what train is closest... hmm? Whats that? There's something here marked 'Royal transport - offline' and it very close. Looks like it's over in a siding near here.
I dig a little deeper and it seems like it's a whole train just for the Empress. They must have used it when the previous Empress was traveling around the Reach. I remember in my dream how proud Aeche was of the transit system, I wonder if this was related to it? Well, it's the closest train, and this way I won't mess up tomorrows schedule either. I touch the train gently, and it activates. Basic systems check indicates nothing is wrong. I call the train. After only a minute, there's the trilling chime that indicates a train is coming.
"Sound, look. I found a train."
They blink sleepily and look up and gasp at what they see.
I have to admit, it is impressive. The Royal Transport is a subway train, but turned up loud. It's royal blue and gold and gilded with sweeping flowery designs. It's only three cars - the other trains seem to be between 6 and 10 cars - but what it lacks in length it makes up for in elegance.
I'm almost sad that the station is empty, this is something that needs to be seen.
"This train is beautiful, Empress! This is how we're going to get home?"
"Yup. It's the Royal Transport. It was designed for the Empress to move around the Reach in style."
We approach the door and I step in. It's carpeted! It's so plush. Sound of the City stands at the door, not coming in.
"What's wrong Sound? Come in"
"A-are you sure? It's a train for the Empress."
"And as Empress, I'm telling you it's fine. Please, come aboard. I'll take you home. It's only two stops."
I reach out my hand and they nervously take it and step in. The doors hiss shut behind us. I lead us to a seat and we both sit down. Only after we are seated does it begin to roll away, nearly silently. Sound once again snuggles up and is nearly asleep instantly. While we ride I search the train mentally. Oh! There's a log! The last time this train was used was...
74 years ago? That's it?
My head spins a bit. That's not that long at all. The Administrators had said that there hadn't been an Empress for 'three generations' I guess if they're not that long lived that could account for it. Also, given the robustness of what we build for space on our side of the galaxy, it would explain why things didn't really break down over here. It would also explain why the Gate system was almost completely intact. 74 years though. That's hardly any time at all in an interstellar empire.
But, the K'laxi! My last memories were of touching the Gate and doing an upload before going to visit them. They said that their histories and religion that mentions me and the Gates is a thousand years old.
What happened? Why were the K'laxi ignored? When did the last Empress touch the directory stone? The timing of everything doesn't make sense.
I really have no way of finding out here. Once High Line has been refitted, I think I need to go to the Wilds of Besmara, that mostly destroyed Starbase we saw first and see what happened there.
Then, the train rolls to a stop. Just as silently the doors hiss open and were back at my station. "Sound, wake up, we're here." I say gently. They rustle and blink and realizing they were sleeping on the Empress jump up, embarassed. "I'm so sorry!"
I laugh gently. "It's find Sound. I'm pretty tired too. Let me walk you home."
This is the latest I've been out, and the Reach is so quiet! The lights are down low, but it's still easy to see. Sound said they lived close to the station and they lead me there. It's a little block of apartments in between the bank and the Administrative offices. Convenient location, I bet this place was expensive.
As we approach the door, an older Aviens opens it ahead of us. Clearly upset they point a finger. "Sound of the City, you are late. How did you even get home, the last train arrived a while ago. Were you wandering around causing trouble after you got here?"
"No Father! I was working late to help Gemli finish up inventory and ran to catch the last train. I missed it, and thought I was done for when..." Sound gestures behind them to me. In the low light, I flare the crown and wings just for a moment and darken them again. There's a gasp and the adult Aviens bows low. "E-E-Empress! What are you doing here?"
"I too missed the last train home, and ran into Sound of the City weeping that they were going to be in trouble and had no way of getting home. I was able to call the Royal Transport and bring them and myself back home. I just wanted to make sure they made it home safely. I don't believe Sound should be punished, it seems that they got caught up helping a friend."
"O-of course Empress. Sound, get inside and wash up, it's past bedtime." Sound of the City hesitates a moment, then runs up and hugs me tight. "Thank you, Empress." and they wave and run inside.
"You're very welcome Sound of the City." I look at their parent and narrow my eyes just a bit. "They did not bother me, they did not put me out, I was helping because I wanted to. Do not give them trouble about this."
Their head bobs a nod. "Of course Empress. Thank you Empress, I really am grateful you brought them home. They get caught up helping friends and lose track of time. It's a regular occurrence with them."
"There are worse problems to have than being late because one is helping friends. People like that are what makes the Reach home."
"You're absolutely right Empress. I will do well to remember that."
"Good night then."
"Empress." The bow again and close the door gently.
I walk home, my head filled with worry about why the timeline for things isn't lining up. Something is wrong here.
First / Previous / Next

So when you think of cities with high culture and vibrant music scenes on the east coast, what springs to mind? Obviously New York. Thanks to Drake, we all know about the growing music scene in Toronto. You prahbahbly musta tawt a Bawstan tew. Maybe Montreal or Philadelphia or even Baltimore crossed your mind.
Hah. Baltimore.
Time to check your cultural bias, pal. You passed over a quiet little city on the south shore of Lake Ontario, nestled in the Genesee River valley. It has a history as a hotbed of Abolitionism and Women’s Rights. It is the home of Eastman Kodak, Xerox, Bausch & Lomb, Western Union, Ragu and other innovative companies. It has a lively music scene, great nightclubs, world-renowned universities, thriving museums, arts & culture festivals, and live theatre. It is a true cultural gem that many folks overlook.
Yep. You bet your ass I am talking about Rochester, New York.
Since we know that Stoner Rock can come from anywhere, it should be no surprise that Rochester has produced one of the leading bands in this genre. This week we are going to check out a band you are going to want to listen to. If you know them, you love them. If you haven’t heard of them, you are going to thank me.
This week’s band is KING BUFFALO.
About Them
Hold on a sec. King Buffalo? Not King Rochester?
To be fair, King Rochester sounds like the villain in a Disney movie. Kinda hard to imagine that on a T-Shirt. King New York sounds like a particularly obnoxious Yankees fan (and yeah, finding a Yankees fan that isn’t obnoxious is a tough go). King Albany sounds like a car made by Kia.
But King Buffalo? That just works.
Our heroes didn’t start out together. King Buffalo were made up of members of two other Rochester area bands.
Randall Coon and Scott Donaldson were playing together in Velvet Elvis. That five piece band played heavy rock with space-based themes in the early 2010’s. Sean McVay and Dan Reynolds were in another band called Abandoned Buildings Club (side note: kinda neat that their initials were ABC), who had a pure psychedelic rock vibe. When both VE and ABC appeared to be having limited success, the four musicians decided to merge their talents into one band. Coon had handled vocals and guitar in Velvet Elvis and Donaldson had been rock solid on drums. McVay had done vocals and guitar in Abandoned Buildings Club and Reynolds had anchored the sound with his bass. All the pieces were there for a classic Beatles-esque lineup.
So out of the wreckage of ABC and VE, KB arose. The four members gelled so well that they were able to record their first demo - aptly titled Demo - in just two days. Their sound was immediately compared to tourmates and close friends All Them Witches. But where ATW were bluesy and sludgy, King Buffalo had produced songs full of space. Oh, there were heavy riffs for sure - but there were passages of music that were contrastingly lighter and further apart. The best example of these contrasts can be found in the more than 11 minutes of Providence Eye. The first six and a half minutes come at you at a lulling pace, enveloping you in the moment. You get swept up in the rolling riffs. But then the drop happens and you suddenly realize the song has been building to this peak. The tempo picks up and you ride a relentless rollercoaster until you hit the Black Sabbath-inspired outro, which takes you home. It is an emotional experience. The two other tracks - In Dim Light and Pocket Full of Knife are smaller essays on the same theme.
It was clear right from Demo that King Buffalo had some serious talent. But if you have listened to the band you will notice that one thing is starkly different on Demo than from any of their other releases: the vocals. Randall Coon was the lead vocalist on these recordings. If you play them up against anything since by the band they stand out. Our very own QotSA may have successfully had multiple vocalists on multiple tunes, but King Buffalo was destined to have Sean McVay take over the mic. Shortly after 2013’s Demo, Coon left the band to do a solo project called Skunk Hawk.
King Buffalo stood at a crossroads: did they look to replace Coon, or should they carry on as a Power Trio? The choice for them was obvious. McVay, Reynolds and Donaldson knew that they had fantastic potential together. They decided they didn't need anyone else.
Side note: Regular readers of these write ups know that All Them Witches just went through this exact crisis in 2019. What I didn’t share then is that ATW are close friends with KB. I would not be surprised to learn that ATW had some serious conversations about their lineup with the boys from KB before they, too, decided last year to pare down to just three members.
To re-christen their new lineup, in 2015 King Buffalo went in on a split EP with Swedish band Lé Betre (I mean, hooking up with a Swedish partner is a dream of mine, so I see the appeal.) They re-recorded their standout tune Providence Eye with McVay on vocals, as well as two new tracks - Like a Cadillac and New Time. New Time opens their side of the EP with an infectious, descending riff that hooks you immediately. It is clear from the lyrics - No wasting around, it’s a new time - that they had moved on from Coon. Like a Cadillac follows up and is a three and a half minute jam that leaves you wanting more. The re-recorded version of Providence Eye closes out their side of the split EP and leaves no doubt that they are in charge. It is a tighter, heavier version, and the amazing outro is so low down that it will make you want to rob your own house.
With their lineup now set, it was time to put together enough music to tour on. In 2016, King Buffalo released Orion. Here you can witness the melding of their influences into something majestic and fantastic, and it is here that they really develop their signature style.
To explain this style, you need to understand basic song structure.
Most pop songs tend to go verse - chorus - verse - chorus - bridge - chorus - chorus. Sure, you could add in a solo for the bridge, or a detailed intro or outro, or another verse - but this is a tried and true formula. Some variation of this dominates the pop charts to this day.
Not with King Buffalo songs. These guys are the masters of the drop, and you hear it in most of their tunes. QotSA fans are no strangers to that long build and release; it is an integral part of tunes like The Evil Has Landed, God is in the Radio, Song For The Dead, and I Appear Missing. One of the sickest drops ever recorded happens in the middle of the Them Crooked Vultures tune No One Loves Me & Neither Do I. It is where the music turns around, and a new riff takes over, often along with a pace change. It is then that you realize that the song has built to this climactic moment, and you are engulfed by the music.
King Buffalo does this better than anyone else, and you hear it clearly articulated, again and again, on the album Orion.
Take the song Kerosene for example.
A rolling bass riff from Reynolds establishes the song right out of the gate. Donaldson produces punchy drum beats with cymbal crashes at the end of each phrase. McVay’s slide guitar rounds out the intro. McVay’s vocals - very Ozzy like, if Ozzy had any semblance of self-control - frame the first verse, which ends in a fuzzy, heavy riff with crashing cymbals. This same pattern is repeated a second time and the drop is teased at just past three minutes in, but does not happen quite yet. The listener’s anticipation builds as the airy, soaring solo from McVay calls out in contrast to the rolling bass. After the guitar solo bridge, the band goes right back into the chorus. But then it happens: THE DROP. Just past 5 minutes in, the song takes a complete and abrupt turn for a totally different riff that is at the same time heavier and brand new, and yet has been there all the while.
What King Buffalo does brilliantly is subvert your musical expectations.
The standard structure is V-C-V-C-B-C-C.
Kerosene is V-C-V-C-B-C-DROP-OUTRO. Just when you subliminally expect something the same, you get something different.
The entire album is like that. Orion hardly sounds like a debut. It is a mature and deliberate soundscape built by talented musicians who are making significant choices about their art. Songs like Drinking From The River Rising open with an expansive and elastic topography, but drill down to the molten lava of heavy riffs and distorted fuzz. Sleeps On A Vine begins with one of the most zen riffs you’ve ever heard and ends in a tumultuous and heavy sonic assault that is pure controlled chaos. Every song on the album is a study in contrasts that leaves you with auditory whiplash and a burning desire for more.
They are that good.
King Buffalo were able to tour on their new material, and did so extensively. They played clubs and larger venues, often with friends and fellow Stoner Rockers All Them Witches and other bands like The Sword and Elder. In 2017, the released the EP Repeater as a follow up. It is just three songs (The vinyl ad reads, All songs on one side! No need to flip!) but it is a heck of a musical journey. The title track off the EP is 13+ minutes long and is one huge build. When the fuzz finally drops after almost 8 minutes, it is a true cathartic moment. It sneaks up on you, and is so welcome when it hits - especially after McVay’s repetition that “Every Day is the Same* - that you intrinsically understand how great it is when things finally change for the better. Too Little Too Late is an instrumental tune that is both enveloping and expansive. It is a terrific bridge to the final track, Centurion, which is an unbelievable groove. Centurion has three minutes of set up leading to an unreal fuzzy drop that is so dirty it will get you evicted from your apartment.
The influence of their touring with All Them Witches can also be seen on their next full length release, 2018’s Longing To Be The Mountain. Ben McLeod from ATW produced the album. ATW, The Sword and Elder are all thanked in the liner notes. The album picks up right where Repeater leaves off, with KB experimenting with long form songs like Morning Song and the title track, and shorter jams like Sun Shivers, Cosmonaut, and Quickening. Reynolds and McVay pepper the songs with synthesizer sounds that add colour and texture to the overall compositions. Donaldson drums with impeccable precision to provide each song with a safe mooring to return to, driving the guitars forward at the same time as he holds the rhythm in check. This is most clearly evident in Eye Of The Storm. The result is a rich tapestry of expansive and flowing music full of heavy jams and storytelling that will leave the listener wanting more. Their signature build-to-sonic-explosion style does not let fans down.
The success of Longing To Be The Mountain allowed for extensive touring across North America and Europe. It also led to appearances at bigger gigs, like at Rockpalast and the Stoned & Dusted desert rock event in 2019. Anyone that has seen any of their live work knows that King Buffalo are simply hypnotizing on stage. Reynolds’ bass work is reminiscent of Geddy Lee with his complex and flowing style. Donaldson brings controlled power to the drum kit, and is ready to cut loose when the drop comes. And McVay has become a true front man, comfortable with the lead voice on guitar and the microphone.
Their next release, Dead Star, dropped in 2020 and generated all kinds of buzz in the Stoner Rock scene. Of course, the tour planned to support it got axed when the entire world went into lockdown. But the (short album? EP?) is simply fantastic. Red Star Pt. 1 & 2 continues their long form examination and has everything you’d expect from them. Echo of A Waning Star is a lament of just over 3 minutes that is near-perfect. Ecliptic sounds like the soundtrack to a John Carpenter movie and is a complete jam with serious cool 1980’s vibes. Dead Star, the title track, is almost Radiohead-esque in its evocative and regretful take on death and decay.
But the standout track has to be Eta Carinae, which has one of the greatest musical drops and turn-arounds you will ever hear. The entire song pivots just past four minutes in and becomes a 70’s anthem worthy of Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath. If you listen to no other tune here today, you have to check it out. It will absolutely get stuck in your head.
The band dropped their first live record, Live At Freak Valley, in 2020. This is a really nice retrospective/greatest hits album kinda deal. What stands out is just how fucking tight the band is live. With some bands, live versions veer wildly from the recorded ones - and not at all in a good way. This record is the opposite. You can clearly hear on Orion and Kerosene that KB are just that good live.
In the wake of the global pandemic, King Buffalo decided to musically capture the moment in time. They decided to release a trifecta of albums. 2021 saw them drop The Burden of Restlessness and then Acheron. The third record in this trio is 2022’s Regenerator. It is really important to consider all three records in this Triptych at the same time, for they are a sonic cycle.
TBOR is a descent into despondency. Acheron is about hitting rock bottom, and being in Hell. Regenerator is about finding a way to claw yourself back into the light. Each album stands on its own, but together they form a sweeping epic journey that we can all relate to.
TBOR is an album where the protagonist gradually loses the will to exist. There is a cry of deep frustration in Burning, a not-so-subtle reference to a plague in Locusts, a study in being confined indoors in Silverfish, and an outright statement that our hero is sinking in Loam. In fact, the lyrics tell us: “Still I press my face into the ground/I’m waiting for the hammer to fall.”
It is not a happy album.
Just when you think things have to get better, we get the 4-track jam of Acheron. In this record, our hero has fallen to his lowest point. He has descended to Hell. The title track - the first one on the album - makes this clear, when it says: “Waking up under the ground/Silver asleep on my tongue.”
Just in case you didn’t get the classic reference, Acheron is the river one must cross in Greek mythology to get to the underworld. Souls going to Hell had coins placed in their mouth to pay Charon, the ferryman, to take them across the river to Hades. So our hero did sink into the Loam in the last album, and finds himself in Hell. This theme is reinforced in Zephyr, who was the Greek God of the West Wind, and Shadows, which references what the Greeks used to call dead spirits - Shades. And just in case you had any doubt, the final track on the album is Cerberus, named after the three-headed dog that guards the gates of Hades.
What is even cooler about Acheron is how it was recorded. Instead of a studio, they recorded the album underground in a cave.
Now that is commitment.
The final album in this cycle is 2022’s Regenerator. While the first two records were about descent, despondency, and hitting rock bottom, this record is about regaining hope and optimism, and finding a way to come back. We hear this clearly in the lyrics of the record’s final track, Firmament, which says: “Out of the loam I rise, embraced by the etheThe river below relieves my hands of silver” - clearly calling back to the tracks Loam and Acheron. And in case you didn’t know, in Greek mythology the Firmament means the Sky or the Heavens.
Our hero has left Hell behind, and ascended into Heaven.
References to positive mythology are all over this album, from the album art to the tracks Mercury and Avalon. It is a total jam. But the best song on the album might just be Mammoth. If you don’t like the guitar on this song, you and I can’t be friends.
I got a chance to see KB perform last year when they toured with Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats. They are fucking tight. They were the opening act, but were the absolute highlight of the show. I want everyone to hear this band because they really are something special.
Go check them out.
Links to QOTSA
We know that QotSA front man Josh Homme and Kyuss invented Stoner Rock in the 1990’s. They were the genre-defining band. King Buffalo (and other bands like All Them Witches) have picked up this proverbial torch and are now bringing the sound to the next generation of fans. King Buffalo drummer Scott Donaldson is known to be a huge QotSA fan. Perhaps he saw them live when they played in Rochester in 2014 in support of ...Like Clockwork.
It is also sometimes easy to forget that Josh was not the only architect of the low desert sound. Original Kyuss Drummer and co-founder Brant Bjork wrote many Kyuss tunes and continues to be a leader in the music scene today. King Buffalo have played with Bjork at festivals three times: Freak Valley Festival, Black Deer Festival and the aforementioned Stoned & Dusted. There is also a planned collaborative project between Bjork and King Buffalo that may be coming our way soon.
The future is bright, my friends.
Their Music
Providence Eye
In Dim Light
Pocket Full of Knife
King Buffalo songs from the Split EP with Lé Betre
Kerosene -- live in 2016
Drinking From The River Rising
Orion - entire album on Genesee Live
RepeateCenturion -- Recorded Live in the Quarantine Sessions put out by the band
Live at Rockpalast in 2019 - includes songs from LTBTM
Longing To Be The Mountain - Quarantine Sessions
Quickening -- everything is cool until the snake head pops out. Red Star Pt. 2 -- the official video
Ecliptic
Eta Carinae
Dead Star - Full Album
Silverfish
The Knocks
Loam
Hours
Acheron
Shadows
Mammoth
Firmament
Show Them Some Love
/KingBuffalo - C’mon, everyone -- there are just over 500 subscribers. Those are rookie numbers. You gotta pump those numbers up.
Previous Posts
Tool
Alice in Chains
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard
Rage Against The Machine
Soundgarden
Run the Jewels
Royal Blood
Arctic Monkeys
Ty Segall
Eagles of Death Metal
Them Crooked Vultures
Led Zeppelin
Greta Van Fleet
Ten Commandos
Screaming Trees
Sound City Players
Iggy Pop
Mastodon
The Strokes
Radiohead
All Them Witches
ZZ Top

First
Ferodias POV / Ten Years Earlier
His heart was pounding in his ears, the thrum of battle lingering for longer than it needed to as he pants hotly. He looked around the wooded area, between the trees, and around the trampled grass, and all he saw were the mangled corpses of monsters. He forced himself to focus, and before long, he could sense and hear his friends and allies; they all seemed to be okay, if not reasonably exhausted. "Sound off!" He called out, wiping the blood off the blade on his pant leg before sheathing it as his tail curled and lashed behind him.
"Here and a'okay!" A voice called out; it was from Brasyl, a young half-orc archer who wielded a bow that was impossibly hard for most people to draw and used unique, heavy arrows. The grey-skinned fellow stepped out of some brush and into view with a toothy grin, his face, chest, and right arm coated in blood that wasn't his own as he used a dirty rag to polish off his knife. "Those bastards sure got the drop on us, eh, Rodi?" He mused cheerfully enough.
Ferodias couldn't help but smirk a bit at the half-orc, it was a very close fight, but they did slaughter the infestation of branch bugs that had been terrorizing the local farming villages. At the very least, they culled the population, and they shouldn't be an issue until next spring. His ears twitched as he heard the squelching of bug flesh, turning to see Monty, a human teen warrior who planned to open his restaurant when he saved up enough coin to retire. He was currently grabbing tokens from each branch bug for proof of their total kill count. Upon seeing Ferodias spot him, Monty smiled while waving a branch bug head. "I'm good over here!" He chirped, stuffing the head away in a large sack before moving to the next one.
"I hate bugs." A voice said as they came up behind Ferodias, though he didn't need to turn to know who it was. Regan stepped up beside Ferodias, the half-elf wiping the blood off the end of his magic staff. "All those extra spindly limbs and that disturbing screeching, ugh." He complained as he shuddered before stamping the end of his staff into the dirt and leaning into it. "I would have rathered gone after those grappler bears that were seen near that mining town; at least they have the good decency not to swarm and get gooey blood all over the place."
Ferodias couldn't help but smirk with amusement at his best friend's expense; before he could respond, Regan was nearly knocked over by Danica, a young dwarven teen with an impressive goatee and an equally impressive hammer, as she smacked Regan's back a few times. "Ah, quit your bellyachin Spells; I kept them off ya well enough." She mused mischievously before going over to join Monty with the monster butchering.
Regan scowled with vague annoyance before sighing as he turned to face Ferodias. "Are you absolutely certain you want 'all' of these individuals as your guardians?" He asked, lowering his voice to a near whisper as they spoke privately. "At least reconsider, Danica, if only for my sanity." He mentioned, not sounding serious but making his point.
Ferodias' ears twitched as he flashed a small smile, speaking softly to keep this conversation between themselves. "Why not? They're all good people, strong for their age too; I'm sure they'll be up to snuff by the time the trials are called to a close." They've had this conversation a few times now, but it was only this time that Ferodias really felt genuinely confident of the people he gathered. The members of their party had shifted around a few times over the last couple of years, with Brasyl being the latest member and Danica being the longest-standing member so far. "Besides, you're just jealous she's paying more attention to Monty than you nowadays, aren't you?" He teased mischievously, speaking normally as he waggled his ears while looking over at the half-elf.
Regan flushed, though a frown was soon on his face. "As if, like I would want a woman in the shape of a barrel." He retorted as he looked away.
Danica called out from where she was, ripping off some bark bug limbs with Monty, no doubt planning on adding that to dinner tonight. "Don't worry, Spells; you're too much of a twig for me anyways." She called out playfully, taking it all in stride as she grinned while the other guys chuckled at the scene.
Ferodias couldn't help but laugh at his friend's expense before joining the others as they rounded up the bug heads, all in all, they managed to kill around thirty-seven bugs, and for three silver a head and the reward for the job itself, it was looking to be a good payday for their efforts; not to mention some extra protein for their next few meals. The day soon turned to evening, and their party had set up camp among the trees during their trek back to the nearest guildhall a few towns away. Monty had got a firepit going and set about making dinner, which was comprised of fire-grilled and salted bug legs, some hard bread, and dried fruits. Danica meticulously tended to everyone's weapons, ensuring they were polished and free of any bug guts or blood that were possibly missed earlier. Brasyl had procured a hard case with a latch, pulling out a lyre which he began playing, the delicate looking instrument producing a sweet little melody as the group waited for the food to be cooked.
They had been resting around the fire for some time, the bug meat ending up giving off a rather delicious smell, admittedly. Monty still tending to the fire while turning the legs over a portable wire grill. It was peaceful and quiet, save for Brasyl's music, that was until Regan started shifting around his tent, stepping into the open while clutching his staff. He only had his pants on, but he looked serious as his eyes stared into the darkness around them. Well, it was dark for most of them; with the aid of the flamelight, they could peer fairly far into the darkness; only Monty was relatively blind to anything beyond the reach of the flamelight. "What is it, Spells?" Danica spoke up, tossing Ferodias his sheathed blade and passing over Monty's spear. Brasyl set his lyre down and collected his bow as he notched an arrow.
Regan looked around, his eyes darting side to side. "Movement, we have trespassers who crossed the first threshold of the security perimeter I set..." He explained in a hushed voice.
"How many?" Ferodias asked as he drew his blade, retrieving his shield from beside his tent and standing at the ready, his tail curling close as his ears twitched and strained to catch any sounds beyond the crackle of the wood in the fireplace.
Regan pointed his staff in a direction as the group turned and readied themselves. "We got three, and they're closing in on us; they must have seen the fire." He reasoned as he twitched. "They're sixty feet away; they just crossed the second threshold." He reported, though his brow furrowed as he tilted his head. "Hold on, four more trespassers just crossed the first threshold in the same direction as the first group."
"What does that mean?" Brasyl asked as he drew his bow, the weighty limbs bending in response to the half-orc's strength as he aimed into the grey darkness. Regan didn't answer at first as Brasyl narrowed his eyes. "Spotted the first set... It looks like people in dresses!" He exclaimed, confusion apparent in his voice, though he didn't let his arms relax.
Regan had his eyes shut for a moment before opening them. "Adjust your aim a finger to the left and down, fire!" He ordered, Brasyl making the slight adjustments as the heavy arrow was loosed with a 'thwum,' an animalistic yelp sounding out a split-second later.
In mere moments, the three figures Brasyl had spotted were now in range of the flamelight; there were three women, two looking relatively untouched, save for some bruising and torn clothes. It was the third woman that caught Ferodias' eyes; she was pummeled brutally, her lip split, and one of her eyes had swollen shut, her dress had been ripped to shreds, and she was absolutely drenched in blood. He wanted to say something, speak to her, but he heard howls in the air and remembered at least three more things were chasing these women.
Regan stepped forward, raising his staff and firing off bolts of lightning, the energy arcing through the air and colliding into what appeared to be an enraged hound, frying the beast; there were two more left, having avoided being caught in the blast of electricity as both Monty and Ferodias stepped forward. The human brought his spear low before deftly thrusting into the open maw of one of the hounds, while Ferodias brought his shield up and bashed the remaining beast in the middle of its lunge, stunning it for a moment when he followed up with a downward slash and beheaded it.
The whole ordeal was over before it really began, Danica stepping forward and examining the beast corpses as Ferodias looked over to the women. "What's going on here?" He said, doing his best to present a gentle display despite the fresh blood coating his blade and arm.
The trio of ladies, upon closer inspection, were just girls barely older than Brasyl but younger than Ferodias. Two of them were clearly shaken but doing their absolute best to maintain their composure. The third and worse off seemed more hardened and collected, yet her gaze was distant and not focused. While she certainly looked like she was beaten to shit, because she was, Ferodias realized that most of the blood on her body wasn't hers as it coated her right arm and chest. If he had to guess, she managed to kill someone with that blood-drenched dagger she was clutching. It took a few moments, but a wolfkin girl with mostly human features spoke up. "I am Lady Nerva Foundeli, daughter of Viscount Foundeli." She said before gesturing to the younger of the trio, who was a half-elf that was shuddering almost uncontrollably despite trying her best to remain stoic. "She is Lady Roche Ferdina, daughter of Baron Ferdina." She then gestured to the battered teen human and spoke up, her own voice shaky and faltering from whatever experience they had gone through. "She is Lady Historietta Blackstone, daughter of Count Blackstone." She explained, taking a moment to clear her throat before looking among her rescuers. "We had been kidnapped three days ago, coming from a banquet in the capital... They were planning on holding us for ransom, but we overheard them talking of... of... Using us..." She said, choking on her own words, trying and failing to maintain her composure as Danica went about getting the ladies to sit by the fire, though Historietta remained standing where she was. "They planned on having their ways with us before throwing us away once they got their ransom... It was a day later that Historietta got the attention of one of those vagrants and began insulting him and his mother. She... She seemed to be somehow accurate as she managed to enrage him to the point where he entered the room we were locked in." She said, shivering as she recalled the event. "We begged her to stop, not to make things worse; however, it was too late, and he started to pummel her... We could do nothing since our arms were bound, but somehow she managed to free herself in the midst of the beating and got her hands on his knife." She then glanced over at Historietta, a mix of fear and awe in her voice. "She spilled his guts and freed us and managed to get the jump on one of the other bandits, killing him in his sleep. We managed to escape, but after some time, we heard those foul beasts hot on our heels. We saw your fire in the distance and ran towards you, hoping for the best." She said, gratefully taking a wooden cup with water as Monty passed them to the two ladies, Historietta still standing off to the side.
Brasyl spoke up, having returned to the camp with a bloodied arrow as he looked among the others. "Those hounds were domesticated; someone sent these things after these ladies." He said, not having been there for the story.
Danica nodded at his words. "Yeah, we have a kidnapping situation on our hands; these ladies just escaped." She explained, Brasyl's eyes going wide before bobbing his head as he cleaned off the arrow and tucked it away in his large quiver.
Ferodias approached Historietta, reaching out to touch her shoulder but then thinking better of it. "You alright, Lady Historietta? Can I get you something to eat or drink?" He asked softly, his tail curling tightly behind in distress at seeing a young woman in such a state.
It took a moment, but she seemed to come out of her fugue and looked directly at Ferodias; she averted her gaze, seemingly looking at something before croaking out some incomprehensible words and curtsying. It was almost regal as she grabbed what remained of her tattered dress to do so.
Lady Nerva spoke up while watching this take place. "I'm afraid Lady Historietta cannot speak right now; that vagrant she antagonized had grabbed her by her throat before she had been slammed around. Frankly, I'm surprised she can even breathe properly."
Ferodias looked and felt distressed, worry plain on his face, even as Historietta offered a small smile and wincing as she did so. Regan soon returned from the shadows as he spoke out. "I've reinforced my security wards with more lethal charms; we shouldn't have any more uninvited guests of the unsavory sort." He explained, offering a bit of a smile until he got a good look at Lady Historietta and winced at her condition. "Oh gods, give me a second." He said, heading over to his tent and grabbing his pack; he soon returned with a small vial of red liquid and uncorked it. "Here, a healing potion; I just bought it last week." He explained before going around behind her and placing a hand on her back. "Don't mind me; I'm just gonna use some life magic to amplify the potion's effects." He explained gently, a faint blue light radiating from his palm as Historietta slowly downed the potion, wincing with each swallow.
Monty offered a smile as he set out some bug legs and dried fruits on some wooden plates and passed them to the ladies. "Sorry about the cuts of meat, but you should eat up and gather your strength; we still have a bit of trek before we're back in a major city." He explained. The two ladies certainly looked skeptical at their plates, but they managed to give their thanks. Despite their reservations, they were soon digging in, breaking the fire-charred chitin to get to the soft meat on the inside.
As the minutes ticked by, Ferodias procured a water skin, a change of clothes, a towel, and a spare set of shoes and came over to Historietta and Regan. The duo was now sitting on the ground, with Regan on his knees behind her, Regan's magical light still glowing as Historietta's skin gradually stitched itself back to gather, the bruising and swelling receding as she seemed to even breathe more easily. "Here, once you're done, I've set up some tarps and a light nearby, so you take these and change out of those blood-soaked clothes and rinse off with this water skin." He explained before holding up the water skin in particular. "It's enchanted with water magic to refill every six hours, so don't worry about using it all." He mentioned.
Historietta took a slow breath before speaking up, her voice still scratchy but nowhere near as bad as it was earlier. "Thank you again; I'll be in your care." She said, bowing her head again.
After a few moments, Regan pulled away and stood as he looked down at the Lady, Ferodias being quick to offer his hand to help her to her feet. "Alright, that is as much as I can do for now without overly exhausting you. Get some rest, and we'll do this again in the morning." He explained, shooting Ferodias a curious glance while Historietta got to her feet. Lady Historietta once again bowed her head before walking away with the things Ferodias had brought; Ferodias couldn't help but watch as she left, though that's when Regan poked him in the ribs and quirked a brow at him. "What do you think you're doing? You're smitten with her, aren't you? Don't you remember that you can't tell anyone who you really are?" He chastised in a harsh whisper. "Don't do anything stupid."
Ferodias winced before chuckling sheepishly; he hadn't realized he was being that obvious; then again, Regan could read him like a book. "S-sorry... I... I just couldn't help but admire how composed and capable she is and how she's handling herself right now, even more so than the other ladies." He replied as his ears waggled while he scratched the back of his head.
Regan nodded, seemingly agreeing with that. "You're right... It's almost as if she's gone through this before." He mentioned worriedly. "Just watch yourself, don't go compromising your trials when you've come this far." He warned quietly as he pats Ferodias' shoulder before rejoining the group.
Ferodias nodded, though he looked over at the changing area he set up, catching a vague silhouette of the lady as he felt his cheeks heat up. "I'll try... But gods... What a woman."
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RoyalRoad

Rick had expected that taking an entire tribe to Sinco would be slow. Who wouldn’t? It was a whole tiny village after all, one nearing a handful hundred.
But the Orcs, and by extension all the other maidens, had more than one surprise in store.
When the tribe had set off, they’d done so with a grand demolition. The moment everything of value had been picked up and packaged, the village was then torn to shreds by anyone willing to take part in the little destruction-derby.
Following this, the tribe would split up into hut-family units.
Every “family” would be made of one human and multiple maidens. The maiden with the highest standing within the family unit (almost always an Orc) would be in charge of carrying and protecting the human on their back. And the rest would handle the luggage and supplies that “family” unit would take with them.
And from there, they would break into a jogging pace that, to a human, would have been a dead sprint.
Rick had the distinct “honor” of being carried by Urtha since Monica’s job as the chief meant it was her job to be at the tip of the metaphorical spear. Meanwhile, Rick was left seated on a sort-of-backpack the tall Orc carried.
Kiara flew overhead with the handful of other flying maidens that’d been woken up from the boxes. Leaving Eva and Dia to carry their belongings. It left an unpleasant aftertaste in Rick’s gut.
The smirk Dia kept shooting his way as he petulantly crossed his arms and resigned himself to being glorified luggage. “I could at least be playing the drums to mark the pace or something. It’s not like we’re being subtle or quiet.”
“Humans have no place drawing attention where danger lurks,” Urtha said, the only one present that wasn’t even winded. “Less so the Father.”
“Some feral might think you are a cheesy snack.” Dia, huffing as she pushed herself, still giggled.
“The tribe is tense enough already.” The Orc shook her head. “We rarely bring this many weaklings with us.”
“One of many changes to come.” Rick held the sigh, mostly because he was holding on to the chair to keep from falling over. He didn’t want to think about it, but once they reached Sinco, things would get complicated.
They were effectively marching out, seeking to conquer a city. Whether it be through actual warfare or maneuvering, they weren’t sure just yet. They just knew that they were prepared for the former if the latter didn’t work out. The reports had come in: Sinco was not in a good place. The constant presence of highly aggressive ferals had been chipping away at their defenses.
The only hope the city held was that they would receive reinforcements from Aubria.
Rick would get there faster.
It was in these thoughts that he pondered throughout the day. The tribe traveled and rested too often to the Orc’s liking. There was much friction to be had, and the humans were guarded like the treasures the tribe considered them to be.
When night came, a singular large hut was made for the humans, and the maidens would sleep in rotations. There would be small songs and minor stories that were shared, small moments of comfort. But they were all held under the looming watchfulness of the tribe.
Because they were at their most vulnerable. One missed feral deciding to make a stand could mean a human getting hurt. Rick had to begrudgingly respect them for that. As much as he loathed being treated like some kind of porcelain doll, there was no room to question that the maidens were going the extra mile for everyone’s safety and survival.
Though they would sometimes go a bit overboard against the maidens that “slowed down the tribe”. His role mediating such disputes had become his main role throughout the following days.
One morning, as they were preparing to set out, he heard it.
It started with a scream, then a yelp, and then a rush.
By the time Rick realized what was going on, Monica was upon him. Drenched from head to toe and stinking of salt and seaweed. The massive maiden was looking at him with a smile that threatened to split her head in two.
“Rick!” She hovered over him, dripping water all over. “Come! Come!”
“Is everything alright?” He asked from the discomfort of the portable chair he was currently occupying.
“COME!” she insisted, hopping on her feet and skittishly looking back, aiming her ear in the direction she’d come from. “Quick!”
“The tribe is not heading that way.” Urtha pointed out.
Rick considered it for a second. “Are there any problems shifting course to travel nearer to the sea?”
“It is a bad idea. For many reasons.”
Her words brought nods from Eva and Dia, to which Rick could only respond with a shrug. “Ok, then we could call for a break for the day, give everyone a chance to properly unwind, and I’ll go with Monica.” He pointed over at the feline that was bouncing on her heels, just barely holding back from reaching out and yanking him into her wet embrace. “Seems like the chief is very excited about something.”
“I bet its food,” Eva said.
“Urtha?” Rick waited.
The Orc glanced over at the crowd. “We will set camp for the day. We cannot afford to lose any of the weaklings.”
That was as good as he could’ve hoped. Rick nodded and was immediately snatched by Monica’s fuzzy paw. The maiden picked him up, putting him over her shoulder and trotting through the shrubbery and trees with little regard for who might be following.
Rick got himself a face full of leaves, flinching and batting them away. “Hey, wait, the branches-”
The Sabretooth yanked him into her arms and broke into a full sprint. Dirt and rocks burst forth from where she stood as air whipped about them. Her fang-filled smile only grew. Monica’s eyes were only focused forward. Rick, meanwhile, was trying to avoid swallowing bugs. The insects that kept flying about appeared to prefer smacking against his face.
There was a moment of clarity, light, and blue.
And with a splash, he was underwater.
Rick made the mistake of gasping, swallowing sea-water, wildly flinging his arms to get himself to the surface. Monica yanked him out of the water, leaving him feeling like a half-drowned cat as he coughed and spat.
“LOOK!” she proclaimed, dropping him on the sandy beach as she hurried towards the crashing waves, kicking at them and sending sprays of foam high into the air. “Rick! BIG!” She waved wildly, rushing her way into the water, then back out.
“That’s the sea.”
“Monica see!” With wide arms, she tried to point at all of it at once.
“No, it’s a new word. Sounds similar.” He combed his hair out of his face with his hands, removing his shirt. “Sea. S-E-A. Big, wet, and salty.”
“BIG WET!” Monica was cheering and splashing, kicking her way up and down the shore, jumping into the waves and coming out a dozen meters away and then making her way back to the shore.
“It’s the sea.” He couldn’t help but smile, watching as she slapped the water with her huge paws, creating a billowing tower of water and foam to rise at least a dozen meters into the air.
He put the low-end terrifying notion of how much force was packed into that strike and kept an easy-going smile.
“It’s the ocean.” The voice called from above, Kiara leisurely drifting down and sitting next to him. “Too far away from anything or anyone. Few ships go through here.”
“So chock-full of dangerous ferals?”
“Just like everywhere else.” Her eyes weren’t on Monica. The Succubus’ gaze appeared more focused on trailing the waves as they crashed into the shore. “Likely they’ve been scared off, though. The rush must have eaten everything available near the shore.”
Rick looked at the waves, then at her. “How can you tell?”
“There’s nothing in the waves.” She pointed. “Usually there’s at least the odd Sprite.”
“Maybe Monica scared them off.”
“Doubtful.” Kiara shook her head, turning to eye him with a slight smirk. “You’re drenched. Maybe you’d want to take your clothes off?” Her gaze trailed over him in a distinctly predatory way.
“You’re hungry, huh?”
She leaned closer, hand reaching over to caress his shoulder. “Maybe a little more than that…” Gold eyes locked to his, her hand gently pushing his back into the sand, the Succubus moving in closer so that she could pin him down.
Rick grinned. “Careful with the splash.”
The momentary confusion turned to shock and horror as she was yanked away and flung into the sea. Monica stared with ample amount of self-satisfaction as the Succubus swore and sank into the waves. “No horny time.” The feline declared, looking at Rick with a dangerous glint in her eyes.
“I understand.” He raised his hands, playing the role of innocent bystander.
“Play time.”
His eyes widened with concern. Uh oh.
She reached down, pulling him up by the shirt. “Rick train swim.”
“I know how to swim.” He quickly proclaimed, grabbing hold of her claws as her arm tensed. “BUT!”
Monica hesitated, looking at the water, then at him with narrowed eyes. “But?”
“Don’t throw me like you did Kiara or I will break,” he said, quickly relaxing a little as he pointed up into the air. “Throw me a little up. Gently, into the water.”
She eyed him for a moment, and with a flick of her tail, caught a stone. “Like this?” She grasped the rock and gently tossed it into a high arch that fell into the sea with a little plop.
“Yeah, just like-AAAAAHHHH!!!”
He was flying, body spinning in the air as gravity quickly lay claim. Rick did the only thing he could think of, curling into a ball, drawing breath, and plunge. He was underwater in the next instant, bubbles and light, with the sandy bottom still within sight.
It was down there that he spotted Kiara looking up at him with a smirk, a bubble wrapping her head. The conspicuously naked Succubus used her wings to swim up at him, catching him in her grasp and pulling him down.
Rick clutched his mouth, trying to keep his breath.
Kiara’s amusement was apparent as she held him by the shirt, looking at him with a mischievous twinkle. The iron grip remained, and he could see what her plan was, so he leaned into her, breaking the surface of the bubble with his face.
The breath was cut short with the kiss.
Then she shoved him away, waving off and winking as she swam further away from the shore. The speed she was moving with clearly was one not meant for him to follow, so Rick didn’t, going up to the surface.
Monica was waiting for him, excitedly grinning from ear to ear.
“Again!” he declared the moment he stepped on the sand. “But this time not from the shirt or it might rip.”
By the time others were reaching the beach, the duo had figured out a way to make the launch procedure safer… ish. Mostly in that the victim of choice would stand on Monica’s palm and curl into a cannonball, so that she could then throw.
And the maiden had quite the throwing arm.
The couple of Goblins that showed up excitedly joined in. Then came the Orcs, Mousegirls, and Doggirls, and by the time Urtha had shown her face, the various tribe members had a line of eager volunteers to be thrown into the sea. While the Orcs were competing with one another to see who could get their cargo the furthest from the shore.
Dia caught sight of the glare before Rick could even speak up. “I’ve set up a rotation of guards with the ones keeping watch over the tribe,” the healer proclaimed. “And the water maidens are working as lookouts.”
“Do you think that would placate me?”
“Do you want to play in the launch games?” Rick asked, giving Dia a warning look. “I bet you’d give Monica a run for her money.”
“She is stronger.” Urtha spoke after just a moment of observation, shaking her head. “I would need to wait for her to tire.”
He looked at the Orc as she remained near them, but didn’t sit. He could almost taste the tension within her, that knot of uncertainty. “Would you like to build a sand castle, then?”
“A castle of sand?”
“Exactly that.” Rick sat up. “Just wet sand and more sand, and make a castle with it.”
Urtha’s thick brows furrowed. “That… sounds childish.”
He shrugged. “Sand is fragile and crumbles easily if mishandled. Consider it a test of skill.” A sly smile followed. “Or are you scared a little human will be better at it than you?”
With a scoff, she stomped her foot once. “Show me.”
“I’ll join in!” Dia said. “It’s been a while since I’ve played mud-walls.”
“The what now?”
“It’s a game we healers played when little helped give us finer control over our power.” She crouched down, grabbing a handful of wet sand and proceeding to carefully lay it down in the shape of a very thin tube. A tube no thicker than a straw, and tall enough to reach her knee. “The trick is in pushing the water away at the right time.”
Rick and Urtha shared a worried glance.
Two hours later, things had escalated… a little.
It turned out that the Orc’s ability to make wood nearly as tough as steel could be applied to sand to just enough of a degree that Urtha had made a box tower about two meters on the side and five tall. Rick, working with a knife, carved out details on the tower.
Mostly windows and bricks.
Dia, on the other hand, had built a miniature replica of the fortified city of Balet. Devoid of any details, the city was a configuration of boxes roughly knee height.
It was when some maidens that had tired of the Monica-Launcher™ had gathered to watch that things escalated. With Mousegirls quickly getting recruited by Dia so that they could turn the sand boxes into detailed houses, and Urtha recruiting other Orcs so that they could put together a second tower.
Somewhere along the way, Sheel had shown up to set up an impromptu grill service.
Rick got his fill as he watched the competition unfold, recovering his energy and feeling exhausted in a good way. He caught sight of Kiara emerging from the sea, sans clothes. The Succubus took one look at the gathering, and eventually locked on to him.
The alluring blue-haired Succubus shifted her walk, tucking away tiredness and presenting only assuredness and grace. Her ample hips swayed with a mesmerizing rhythm, tail punctuating every step with a flick. The maiden made a show of pushing her sky-blue hair over her shoulder, presenting her bare chest for him to drink in.
There was a twinkle of enjoyment in her golden eyes when his gaze locked on to her body. A sly smile played on her lips, seductive and coy.
As she reached him, the succubus knelt down and whispered in his ear, her voice soft and alluring. “Is this spot taken?”
Rick felt his throat dry, and he coughed a little. “Sure.”
Kiara grinned wider, taking his lap, tail reaching under his shirt to caress his chest. “It is very comfortable.” She punctuated her words by grinding against herself against his crotch a little. “You seem thrilled to see me.”
He wrapped his hands around her midriff, pulling her against his chest, ignoring the slight discomfort of her wings. “Be warned that Monica is looking our way,” he whispered. “Engage and you will get launched. She’s gotten great at it.”
The tail twitched. “Noted.” Her tone was begrudging. “I meant to ask, are you familiar with… this? The sea? The ocean? The depths?”
“I’ve been on my fair share of boats, and went diving in a reef once.” He admitted freely. “And I’ve flown over the clouds in one of the most boring technological marvel my world built.” A little chuckle followed. “But I think you were meaning to lead this somewhere else?”
Kiara shifted, staring over her shoulder for a moment. “I’d like to hear more about your world sometime.” Her voice held an edge of hesitation to it, and Rick had the distinct impression she was trying to hold something back. “But yes, I was meaning to lead the conversation to this.”
The tone was gone; the look was gone, replaced by smug satisfaction as she held up a blue gemstone. The object was the size of a pearl and a deep, glimmering blue.
“An impure elemental stone.” The Succubus declared. “Take it.”
Rick obliged, lifting it to get a better look. Light wavered and refracted within the sphere, adding a shimmer that made it look as if there was a tiny sea contained within. Twisting and shifting the stone did not make the illusion of change, making the little sphere appear like a looking-glass of some sort.
The refracted light swayed and shifted against his palm like an aurora.
“It’s… this is really impressive.” He declared after a moment, glancing back at her.
“I stumbled onto this while looking for something else. It has some minor value, but is mostly useless since it has a very low purity.” She shrugged her lithe shoulders, trailing his jaw with her sharp nail. “Consider it compensation.”
He frowned a little. “Compensation for what?”
She shrugged, beating her wings once and hopping on to her feet. “I will go get myself a change of clothes and a snack.” She turned to leave. “You’re more than welcome to join.”
Rick could only chuckle. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m exhausted right now.”
“Have it your way.” The maiden vanished into the thicket, sauntering off to the tribe. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, pay some attention to the little leech. Wouldn’t want her to feel neglected, now would we?”
Where had that come from? Rick watched her go, taking a moment to stand up and check that the little get-together was going nowhere. From there, he turned his focus inwards and sought the bond to Eva. It was tougher than he’d expected, especially with the noise from all the other bonds trying to drown out everything.
He found her sitting on a rock, at the very edge of the sandy shore, staring off at the setting sun. The maiden had her knees tucked against her chest, body covered under her black cape, only her red eyes and pale face exposed to the sunlight.
She noticed his approach, but didn’t react.
Rick took a spot next to her, not quite within arm’s reach. “You’ve avoided talking with me. Anything I should worry about?” His question caused the intended result. Eva looked at him with wide eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you don’t like small-talk, and this is just about the most important subject I could think of.”
The Fledgling turned away. “True.” She acknowledged. “I cannot answer your question, sir.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t.” She hugged her knees, turning away and towards the horizon.
Was she hesitating to take a stance, or was she unsure of what stance to take to begin with? Rick nodded a little. “If it’s any consolation, it’s weird for me, too.” He lay back on the stone, looking at the orange clouds above. “Especially with how stiff you’re acting.”
“The Wildling-King calls me his property, and then complains he is treated with the due formalities?” Eva glared.
“Point taken.” Rick sighed. “I just expected that you’d learn from the others.”
“I cannot compare myself to the monster that is Monica or Kiara, nor consider myself to hold a fraction of the trust you give Dia,” she summarized. “I am a Fledgling. Anywhere within the kingdom, a slip of the tongue, a mistake, or a perceived fault would earn me severe punishment.” The maiden glowered, then sighed. “I myself have given such for less.”
“So you don’t know what to expect from me, but will avoid talking with me about those expectations.”
The glare intensified. “I would trust you of all would understand the matter is not that simple.”
“You’re not calling me sir.” He replied with an arched brow, watching her flinch. “I don’t want to insult your intelligence, but it seems like you’re intentionally running on a groundless hypothesis. So my question would be, why have you kept at it?”
She deflated with a sigh. “I don’t know.”
Rick reached out, ruffling her hair. “Well, while you think about it, how about spending some actual time together with the others? Brooding didn’t get you the answer you were looking for, so how about trying to change the pace a little?”
The glare intensified. “I was not brooding. What do you take me for? I am older than you! I was the head of a noble house of great prestige!” She shot to her feet, glaring, lips curling into a snarl.
Rick stepped closer, directly into her personal space. “Evangeline.” He declared, his tone holding only the barest edge to it.
The Fledgling flinched, looking away, hands hiding under her cape. “You are right.” She spoke, deflating. “I… am Evangeline now.”
She moved to kneel, to lower herself, but his hand on her chin held her in place. He raised her gaze so that they would meet eyes. “The only line you stepped over was baring your fangs at me. Nothing else.”
He wanted to step away, to turn around and go to the beach with the others. But something else held him in place as he looked down to those ruby red eyes, the way she trembled against his palm, how she inhaled deeply and her eyelids fluttered. The maiden leaned into his touch, taking a hesitant step closer.
“Th-this…” Eva stammered, swallowing.
Rick leaned closer. “This is your chance to step away.”
She didn’t.
The Fledgling followed the gentle tug of his palm, raising herself to her tiptoes, leaning into the kiss. She froze, opening her mouth a little and scratching his lips with her fangs in hunger. They pierced, only enough to draw a drop of blood, only enough to make him flinch.
Eva recoiled, eyes wild, face beet read. “I, no, I-… This isn’t…”
The maiden vanished into the shadows before he could say anything. He could sense her quickly making an escape through the darkness. The human was left mostly amused at the reaction, chuckling as he took the long way back to the others.
He could understand why Kiara found entertainment out of teasing the Fledgling. Idly, he wondered if they could exchange some notes.
​
----
​

Hello, I'm back, kinda.
Things have been a monumental mess over on my end. Lots of things happened over the past couple months.
I'll be clear: Reddit isn't a convenient place to post stories. Yes, there's a community, but the website is very clearly designed for other kinds of content creators. Story writing is more of a "Despite" thing. Combined with the upcoming policy changes ^{(what with the site being sold off and wanting to coerce users into their App, at the cost of all else}), I don't think I'll be sticking around.
The story will continue being regularly posted over at Royalroad and Scribblehub.
There's practically a full volume already posted over there. Seriously, as a writer I can't stress enough just how monumentally important the post-scheduler is for me. My life is far too chaotic and sometimes I spend weeks without time or energy to prepare the posts, and then just dump 15 of them into the auto-loader.
I will try to get the next full volume (up to chapter... 62?) posted here throughout the next couple weeks, and unless something changes, I'll mostly stick to those other sites from there onward.
See you guys around, and thanks for sticking this long with the story.

[First]
[Standard Patreon Link].

Ecclesiastes 10:19~"A feast is made for laughter, and wine maketh merry: but money answereth all things. "
A feast is made for laughter~This verse should be considered in light of what had been said before.

1. Feasting and wine does have its place, even for rulers, but national prosperity is the better choice, and the main one that should governed/rule all wise men.
2. We all know that feasting is a time for mirth~the pleasure of eating and drinking lends itself to laughter, which is not an evil thing, within moderation. Solomon commended the combination of eating and drinking for mirth. Ecclesiastes 8:15; 9:7,8 and in Proverbs..... Proverbs 17:22~"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones." Read Nehemiah 8:12, etc. So, there's a good feasting, which the scriptures commend for the purpose, place, profit and time. Christians are not pharisaical in their teachings, we enjoy Christian liberty in moderation~we avoid any excess.
3. We understand as with all of God's liberties, feasting and drinking can be abused. But just because it can, does not mean we must teach against the liberty God has granted to us.
4. Excess can ruin a man's good reputation, so we guard against excess.
5. Eating out is a liberty, eating out often is a waste of money. Previous generations never had the luxury of even eating out ONCE~Never did until mid-sixties or a little later! Yet, I know Solomon also warned, ALL WORK, and no spending is also wrong. Moderation is the key to living in this world.

Wine maketh merry~And it IS suppose to do that very thing. The very purpose God allow it be invented by man. Psalms 104:14-15. Again....Christians are not pharisaical in their teachings, we enjoy Christian liberty in moderation~we avoid any excess. God allowed and encouraged family celebration with wine and strong drink~Deut 14:26~Again, Christians are not pharisaical in their teachings, we enjoy Christian liberty in moderation~we avoid any excess.
Solomon just condemned drunkenness as an destructive vice, but there is a huge difference in drinking and drunkenness~just as it is in easting and gluttony. More on this later. Wine has its place, but excess is to be avoided at all cost. Proverbs 21:17,20; 23:21
But money answereth all things~The lesson to be learned is the importance and value of money over temporary pleasures.

1. This statement concerning money does not contradict other warnings about money. THe LOVE OF money is sin; once a person trust in his money more than in God's providing his daily provisions, then that person is sinning. A spendthrift individual is a fool, and does not know the value of money and how to use it properly.
2. Strong men retain riches, by prudent spending~ have our assets grown over the years? If so, we show ourselves to strong. If not, we are weak. The rule is simple. If you need better financial growth, you need to correct your financial weaknesses, which are taught in Proverbs (Pr 12:11; 13:4; 21:20).

Strength keeps men from the temptations to waste and lose money. A strong man is not vulnerable to financial foolishness. It is weakness that causes men to spend too much, chase vanity, neglect saving, and pursue foolish ideas that bring loss. The rule is simple.... money answers a lot of problems in one's life, thereby, we should use extreme moderation in every area of our life, and once in a while stick our nose in the ground and watch those little aunts being ever so wise wise by working so hard and laying up food for time to come.

I never replay games. I’m more of a one and done it kind of guy, but something about ATB’s gameplay and story compelled me to play it not once, not twice, but four times at the time of writing. It certainly helps that the game is short (although I think the universal praise of The Outer Wilds demonstrates that this isn’t a bad thing).
My latest playthrough clocked in at ~35 minutes at the time of writing in order to get the Toot Sweet achievement. Ironically, this exact pursuit of achievements led me to get the Librarian achievement and, ultimately, finally read all the story notes chronologically.
Notwithstanding, ATB is a nauseatingly haunting game on harder difficulties. The monster is deadly, the resources are scarce, the tone is grim, and the darkness encompasses it all. Above all of this, the story is worth telling and I posit that the game’s genre, coupled with the Amnesia brand being notoriously terrifying if PewDewPie is to be believed, will prevent a lot of people from playing it. That’s such a shame.
Without further obfuscation, I want to encourage you to play the game; immerse yourself in its world and discover its truth for yourself. Your appreciation for the story will only compound the more time you spend stalking the halls of the unnamed bunker it takes place in.
For those of you that don’t care to play it, but appreciate a good story, read ahead. SPOILER WARNING.
ATB’s story begins before the player ever takes control of the protagonist, Henri Clemont, a Soldier in the French Army at the Battle of Pozieres during World War I.
April 1916 – Toussaint Beaufoy – What Could Be Worse than War?
On 2 April, 1916, Henri’s embattled unit receives orders to dig their bunker deeper so that their chain of command can laud it as a symbol of French patriotism and eventual victory in the war.
The calamity of World War I, having already wrought havoc on the bodies and minds of Henri’s unit, is only intensified by these foolhardy orders. This bunker is destined to become “a rancid, stinking pit. A void, a hole. Full of men, scared and confused.”
Eight days later, on 10 April, Henri’s compatriot, Toussaint Beaufoy, pens a poem We Whirl the World that reflects on the grim events of the war and foreshadows the events of the game.

We whirl the world
The world we whirl
It all gets lost in a terrible twirl
Can’t see the sun for all the smoke
Can’t see the ground for all the dead folk
Can’t see the ocean, can’t see the trees
So I stay here down on my knees
We whirl the world
The world we whirl
It all gets lost in a binding twirl
A snarl in the dark
A sad day in the park
A stone reminder
A horse’s dirty blinder
A child’s empty hand
A friend’s stained armband
The news of the day on the stand
We whirl the world
The world we whirl
It all gets lost in a bloody twirl
What comes next around the bend?
Maybe it’ll be some kind of end
More likely another shrill, shrill whistle,
Magic that turns men into gristle.
We whirl the world
The world we whirl
It all gets lost and still we twirl

Henri’s unit begins digging and on 30 April, another soldier, Alex Noyer, extrapolates on why the unit has been ordered to dig: the bunker lay atop Roman ruins that extend towards the German lines. The command wants to use these prebuilt tunnels to launch a surprise attack on the enemy. However, Noyer’s interest lay more in the archaeological significance of the dig.
With the dig well underway, the other soldiers begin to experience haunting symptoms. Notably, Beaufoy, who witnesses some horror on the night of 5 May, that shatters his psyche. He refuses to discuss what he witnessed with anybody, yet he revels in it; “I want to go back to that place. I want to feel that way. I want the violence and the ecstasy and the pitch-black darkness.”
May 1916 - Alex Noyer’s Journal - Digging Up a Dark Secret
A week later (9 May), Noyer is presented with archaic texts uncovered during the digging. He begins to read them and discovers the texts are not of typical Roman writings. Rather, the texts are religiously significant repeating the phrase “to cross into darkness and beyond.”
These texts originated from a people that believed they found the key to immortality, a blessing bestowed upon them from some “other world… dominated by darkness… ruled by something…” These damned texts went on to describe this world as “full of spirits, monsters and that the air there was endlessly alive with cries of torment and the sickly rattle of souls near death.”
The tunnels that the men were digging were used by this ancient people as a portal to this “pagan hell.”
This manifested in our world as the need for the followers to commit sickening acts that appealed to the primal instincts of humanity; “blood orgies, of sadistic spirits, of the awful things these men and women would do to each other in worship of darkness” and a magical liquid that would grant the believer’s immortality in darkness.
Noyer enters the tunnels sometime on 14 May, and discovers more of the cursed history of the tunnels. “The Romans used these tunnels to hold sadistic bacchanals, great festivals of cruel combat, torture and worse... held in an arena over a great pit.” His command writes him off as paranoid, and Noyer resolves to enter the tunnels.
On 25 May, Noyer is recovered after screaming in the damp excavation sight until his vocal cords were annihilated – alive but utterly terrified.
June 1916 - Farber - Am I Out of Touch? No, It’s the Soldiers Who Are Wrong.
Noyer warns his brother-in-arms about the texts and truth of the ruins they are excavating. As the truth and panic spread, the Command begins punishing those who speak of the more sinister presence that is permeating the halls of the bunker.
Throughout the month of May, the soldiers are gripped with a waking terror that seeps into their dreams, all the while having to fight a war notorious for its brutality. Noyer writes, “we’re stuck between the Germans in front of us, high command behind us, and some other horrible force that seems to lurk in shadows all around us. I fear we are now truly beyond God’s reach.”
Rumors of the truth that Noyer uncovered begin to spread amongst the men. Despite taking the assertions of the malevolent presence seriously, the command chooses to contain the panic through force.
Incensed by Noyer’s ominous warnings, a rebellion is formed on 28 May with a soldier only known as “Farber” at its helm. The mission is simple: contain the evil of the tunnels by sabotaging the digging efforts with a cave in. Farber notes that each of the five recruits is exceptionally eager to end the waking nightmare, particularly Beaufoy.
Their efforts are successful and the soldiers experience a brief abatement from the ever-present fear, only to be discovered and subsequently tortured by their Commanding Officers, Reynard and Delpy. None are spared the persecution, save for Beaufoy, who is presumed to have been killed in the blast that undoes the dig. The last thing any other soldier saw of him was Beaufoy telling them he had “other work to do,” whilst pointing to his own eyes.
Despite the ordeal, no participant reveals Farber as the mastermind, and Farber is forever indebted to the brotherhood.
The officers of the unit do four things in the wake of this unthinkable act of insubordination: (1) abandon the tunnel, (2) punish the conspirators, (3) send the remaining men on dangerous combat patrols and (4) order more wine. No lesson learned, no warning heed.
Of minor note, on the evening of 30 June, after one such combat patrol, a German prisoner is captured. Small recompense for the men routinely thrown into the meat grinder of enemy machine guns and command tribunals.
July 1916 – Henri Clément – Buddy Fucker with a Conscious
Another such raid is ordered on 8 July, and Henri has a plan to not go. Henri and his best friend, Augustin Lambert, decide that the winner of a game of chance will not have to risk their life this evening and the other will go in their friend’s place. Henri cheats, rationalizing it as a harmless prank, condemning Lambert to endure the battlefield once more. Henri is sure Lambert will return, unscathed, and cannot wait to see the look on his face when he learns what Henri did.
Only, Lambert doesn’t return. As the dusk of 8 July turns into dawn, Henri is wrought with guilt. He resolves to recover his friend. It is here, that the player finally takes control of the protagonist.
Henri discovers Lambert at the bottom of a pit. Not a crater from artillery, a borderline incomprehensibly large depression. Henri makes his way down and renders aid to his battered, but alive, compatriot. Henri gathers water from the pit, and nurses his friend before they attempt to escape.

Patrol Report – 10 July 1916
Odd occurrences last night. Sdt. Lambert, thought dead after his patrol on the 8th, returned to the barracks in fine health. He carried with him Sdt. Clément – severely wounded from an explosion.
Lambert reports the following:
-That midway through his patrol on the 8th he fell into a deep crater and was unable to escape.
-Clément, his close friend, snuck out after him last night, located him in the crater, and carried him out.
-They were spotted and in the ensuing attack, Clément was injured by an explosion. It fell on Lambert to carry him back.
Very odd that Lambert was neither injured from the fall nor the explosion AND that he ended up saving the man who came to save him.
But battlefield luck is an odd thing. In every life, fate’s winds blow erratic.
Judging by Lambert’s description, the crater he fell into seems to have been located very close to the Roman tunnels we unearthed. It may have been a result of work down there.
Recommend a future patrol to investigate and make sure we have not opened a backdoor into our own bunker.

Henri remains comatose for ten(?) days.
July 1916 – Augustin Lambert – The Nightmare Is Only Beginning
Lambert, having dodged death, reflects on the events of his ill-fated patrol. His loss of hope at the bottom of the inescapable pit, and the angelic reprieve he received from Henri. He notes how the water Henri nursed him with “was cool and crisp, with a strange, sweet taste. Never has water felt more nourishing than that, administered by a dear friend’s hand.”
Despite surviving, Lambert’s survival is dampened by the loss of a toy he bought for his son – the toy he believes to be in the pit where he almost lost his life.
Lambert grows stronger by the day. However, with Lambert’s return, so do the haunts that plagued his fellow Soldiers. Scratching at the walls and an overt ghostly howling emanates throughout the halls at night.
July 1916 – Stéphane Joubert – Oh Yeah, The Murders.
The first to fall Reynard on 15 July. Hardly a loss after his treatment of the soldiers, but certainly a catalyst for even further distrust.
Stéphane Joubert, another officer, reflects on the evening of the murder in his journal. He had heard a commotion in the hallway, but assumed it be Reynard drunk on his secret stash of wine. No one was aware anything was wrong until they heard the screaming. He is concerned for the harshness in which his fellow officers treat the men, particularly in the wake of this death.
The remaining officers interrogate the men, after all, a murderer was so clearly amongst them.
Paranoia grips the men, who are the prime suspects due to their contempt for Reynard. But the brutality and sadistic nature of the murder was beyond the pale? The autopsy read:

Body of Sgt. Reynard.
Multiple lacerations. Chest cavity torn to shreds. Every rib cracked. Skull cracked open by repeated blunt force trauma.
Who could have done this to him?

Amid the violence, Farber, driven mad by the resurgence of the haunting presence, resolves to kill it himself to atone for being the only man left unpunished for the tunnel sabotage. When the evil presence, emboldened by the murder of Reynard, returns, Farber is there. He shoots the Beast and it retreats into the shadows.
But it did not forget. It returned ten minutes later and pulled Farber into the wall, “screaming… praying for salvation.”
The men note something familiar about the Beast as it continues to hunt them; like it knows who they are.
The officers abandon the men, escaping and blowing the entrance to the bunker behind them – condemning the soldiers to evisceration by an unkillable force. Joubert, the only bastion of morality amongst the officers, is among the escapees all the same He leaves the men one chance at salvation.

Fournier, our commanding officer!, cowers next to me now. He’s lost his mind to an abyss of fear…
He wants to run, to blow up the exit behind him.. Sealing the demon down here… The demon AND our men.
His constant refrain, it is getting to me… and that same void of terror… it is also overtaking me.
To any of my men who see this: once we’re free of this place, I will get the arsenal code from him. I will get it and I will radio it back to you.
Trapped down here with that beast, the arsenal may be your only hope. It’s all I can do. All I have courage to do…
Get to the communications room in the Soldier Quarters. Hide there. I’ll broadcast the code to you.
-Joubert

The men, responded to such hollow words:

The officers have abandoned us! They ran from the beast and blew the exit closed behind them. Even Joubert…
They called us cowards and traitors and worse… Hypocrites. Now they’ve doomed us.
Whatever hell we suffer now, it is on them. God will punish them for what they’ve done.

July 1916 – Henri Clément – The Game Begins
The game begins with Henri awakening in the hospital bed from comatose state. He doesn’t remember the past, but that’s why we have spent about 2400 words going over that. The gameplay of Amnesia is self-explanatory – gather resources, avoid the monster, escape.
In order to accomplish this goal Henri has several sub objectives that, for convenience, we’ll cover in two parts: Get the Dynamite and Get the Detonation Handle. This isn’t a walk through, every playthrough of the game is different, but you learn the fates of several characters through extrapolating on the relationship between the notes and the game itself. Play the game and get stalked by the monster for the horror experience.
Get the Dynamite (Located in the Armory):
· Located in the armory, Henri first needs to retrieve a code to unlock said armory. The code, you recall, Joubert promised to broadcast to the soldiers. After solving the daisy chain issue in the Soldier’s Quarters and finding the requisite key, Henri makes his way to the communication room. Joubert is true to his word, he is still broadcasting the code. Henri can now retrieve the dynamite.
Get the Detonator Handle (Located in the Tunnels):
· First order of business is to recover a ratchet wrench that allows access into the Prisoner Control room in the Prison section of the bunker. The wrench is in Foreman Stafford’s locker, but you’ll have to find the code. Henri discovers that Stafford made his way to the Bunker’s Pillbox as a means of escape. However, the Pillbox is locked with the only key being in the bunker’s Chapel. Henri makes his way to the chapel to uncover an unholy display of twisted bodies – an achievement pops up revealing this is the Beast’s nest. In the confessional, Henri discovers the priest (otherwise insignificant to the story) nailed to the wall. He recovers the key and returns to the Pillbox. At the top, Stafford is there, a bullet through the eye from an enemy sniper – a grim reminder that you’re still fighting a war.
· The wrench is to help gain access to the Captured German Prisoner’s cell, left abandoned; Geneva Convention be damned. What we want in the cell is a pair of bolt cutters that had been used to torture the prisoner. Opening his cell alerts the monster, whom promptly murders the poor prisoner (although there is a slightly happier disposition in which you retrieve the bolt cutters before the Beast gets to him – are you quick enough to save his life? Do you even want to?)
· The bolt cutters grant access to the chained-shut tunnels. The haunted tunnels. The Pagan Hell. Ghostly apparitions due exist down here skulking the fog teasing you with the evil you’ve read so much about. Impossible rock formations alongside Roman statues and columns, this place is truly unearthly. But then you hear a voice, the first voice you’ve heard since the prisoner you couldn’t understand died. “We whirl the world…” Its Beaufoy, whom has gouged his own eyes out and roams the fog with a shotgun and homicidal intent – still more work to do. He will kill you, so you must put your fellow soldier down. Is it better this way? At least that shotgun is yours now *finger guns*.
· If you explore a little more, after finding the detonator handle, you’ll find a small tunnel that leads to the pit. The pit the game began in, the pit with the small rabbit toy Lambert lost. Shit, what happened to Lambert?
You retreat to the beginning of the game. Hook up the dynamite and blow it. Make your way to escape. You find yourself at a grand arena above a bottomless pit. With the Beast standing between you and salvation. Is there really a boss battle in this game? Winning it reveals the final truth.
Lambert is the monster. Your best friend, corrupted by the water you nursed into him to save his life. Presenting the toy to him prior to the final battle when he tries to kill you causes him to take it, run to his fucked-up chapel nest, and place it on a pedestal. There is still humanity there, and that’s why he recognized those he killed.
But this is a grand arena over a great pit, and losers go into the pit. Use the toy to hold the monster up on the destructible bridges and, while he plays with it, blast the bridge itself – pulling the literal floor out from underneath him – eternal darkness awaits.
Now flee, make your way to salvation. You see sunlight. You breach the rocks and roll down a slope into a pit of dead comrades. At least you’re free of that beast.
As you bask in the light you hear “SCHNELL, SCHNELL” and searchlights beginning to scan where you just fell from.
Fuck, you’re still in a war.
A grotesquely unsettling story of overcoming shitty circumstances and still losing. What’s that like an 8? Probably an 8.

Warning: Pretty long venting
Recently, my (f17, 18 in less than a month) life just feels terrible lately. I graduated less than a month ago and so over senior year, my parents were stressing me out about college and ended up making me, practically forcing me, to enroll in this online college. My dad even told my mom that if I went to college on campus that he wouldn’t even help me out financially during college (parents are both PIMI but divorced).
Ever since I’ve been telling ppl that I’m going to an online college, they give me a weird face and ask why would I do that and not go to an in-person school. My college dreams were crushed and it’s been weighing on me for months. I originally wanted to go to NYC for college (where I’m originally from) but my mom shut me down real quick. So, seeing my best friend and everyone else from my class going away to college in the fall is really hard for me, so much FOMO and just being upset about me wishing I pushed back to my parents to tell them that I wanted to go to the college I picked, trying to please them. But I knew it wouldn’t have worked because in every universe, they wouldn’t be accepted by me moving away to a secular institution full of drugs and alcohol and kids partying.
But it can always get worse. My mom said that along with online college, I could regular pioneer. So yesterday I officially applied to start the same month as I start online college. I thought that maybe I could get a job at least while doing college to save up but even that plan she fucked me up. Now my mom wants me to do LDC, just making the decision for me. It just feels like every time I try to negotiate and please them, they make it 10x worse.
And to top everything off, my mom made me (asked and set it up) to start a Bible study with this new young girl at my hall like two months ago. So every Saturday, I go to her house and study the enjoy life forever lessons with her which means I have to prepare every Friday. And this Saturday, we will be talking about why being gay is bad because her father literally outed her to us… great.
My life is literally hell. I didn’t expect this to be my life after graduation. I wanted to move out and go to college, dorm, meet new friends, finally get a real boyfriend, extracurriculars, all the things I’ve seen in the movies. I was so hyped a year ago but now that will never happen because of the religion I was born into and my strict and PIMI parents.
Lately I’ve just not been myself. I’m sad all the time, I overeat way too much, I stay in my room watching TV shows and movies, and just can’t find any silver lining in my life right now. And like I mentioned before, my bsf is going to college an hour away so every time she talks to me about it, I feel envy even though I wish I could be happy for her.
And ofc I know that college isn’t everything but it was something that I looked forward to for most of my life and now I don’t have that anymore. And going to college online isn’t quite the same even though I get the same degree by the end but it’s a good college with a good community, even though it is virtual.
And I love my parents but this religion has sucked so much life out of me lately that I don’t know what to do anymore and I don’t have nothing to look forward to. And, yes, I am crying as I type this but it feels a bit better to vent all this out. I can’t talk to any of my friends abt this bc they don’t know what being a witness is like, especially being PIMO. This is the only place where I can share my true feelings.
It’s just really hard for me rn and I’m just trying to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Like I tell my this guy I have to deal with regularly: "I've had 3 hours of sleep a night for the last 5 days, and I'm fried." to which he replies "That sounds like me. I get 2 hours of sleep and I have to get up and move around a bit for a little while before I can go back to bed."
or my mother, talking about all she's had is 5 hours of sleep at night... and yet she dozed in front of the TV for 1:30 and laid down in the afternoon with a book and rested her eyes for 45 minutes.
No! I've gone to bed, woken 3 hours later unable to get even a minute more sleep, and spent the next 21 hours exhausted, fall asleep and wake up 3 hours later exhausted and unable to sleep ... for 5 flippin days.
I tell somebody the I've recently developed migraines with visual auras that blot my vision for half an hour: they say "oh I get migraines too", and I reiterate the vision loss and they reply "I have floaters too." I explain more abruptly, "I go blind for half an hour without warning and then a bit after that fades I get a barfy headache" and they still just think I'm talking about a headache with floaters or light sensativity.
and I want to scream. No, you blithering twit! the first time it happened I thought it was either a stroke or retinal detachment, and I tried to get my phone to call the emergency department, but I couldn't make out the screen to dial for help, because there was some kind of star trek cloud monster with electric edges in both my eyes no matter what direction I looked in.
I once had a doctor that I told I was unable to keep any food in my system. They recommended peppermint. They didn't seem to get what I was saying. I've started taking pictures of every health problem (including the toilet) and videos of things like when I have tremors. Because it's like there's some kind of language barrier.
I mean are these people all out there just speaking in exaggerated terms and you think when I'm telling you the literal situation I'm in you think I'm exaggerating too?

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we screw like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.
____________________________________________
By The Vesper's Bell

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.

The slender and feminine frames of the four Star Sirens floated with an inhuman ease in the microgravity of their shuttle’s cabin, their prehensile feet and tails either dangling freely or clutching an opalescent perching rod. They stared with a novel curiosity out their window towards the small and relatively unsophisticated Earthly craft that had gradually been drifting its way towards their fleet.
“It’s still not answering hails, and I can’t find any sort of transponder or visual identification,” Akioneeda, the eldest of the group, sang in their musical and surgically precise language; the chevron-shaped slits over her trachea granting her a superhuman vocal range.
Using the glittering diodes embedded throughout her mauve skin, she fired jets of light to propel herself over to a crystalline computer terminal on the other side of the cabin.
“Why do they have to make their ships so ugly?” the magenta-skinned Pomoko asked; her large and bright cat-like irises constricting in their dark sclera as she squinted at the foreign craft in disdain.
Its design was a smoothly contoured rocket, with a rounded nose and a flaring aft that allowed it to hold both rear and forward-facing thrusters. Its dark hull was nearly invisible against the black of space, and coated in a radar-absorbent material that until recently had masked its approach. The Siren’s shuttle, in contrast, was a luminescent, bright-pink spiral seashell nestled in an array of gossamer-like radiators, sails, and solar panels that resembled blooming flower petals.
“I think the polite word is ‘spartan’,” the violet-skinned Kaliphimoa corrected her with an excited grin. The crystalline, oval exocortexes embedded on the sides of her elongated skull began flickering as she began reviewing any information that she thought might be pertinent. “Macrogravitals have a much harder time surviving in space than we do, so they have to be fairly pragmatic in the designs of their vessels. And remember that, unlike our ships, that rocket is meant to launch from and land on planets, so it has to be pretty rugged.”
“Kali, there can’t be any Macrogravitals on that thing; there’s no centrifuge,” the Cyan-skinned Vicillia pointed out. “Macrogravitals need macrogravity. It’s literally their defining characteristic.”
“They don’t die in microgravity, Vici,” Kali said with a roll of her eyes. “In olden times, baseline humans would spend months, sometimes even over a year living in space with no artificial gravity at all.”
“This isn’t the Apollo & Artemis Era, Kali. It’s virtually unheard of for Macrogravitals to leave cislunar space without a centrifuge,” Akioneeda said as she examined the telemetry on the intruding object. “That thing definitely has a habitat module, but Earth is on the other side of the sun right now. That’s weeks of travel, and that’s if its fusion rockets are functional. And it is a ship, not a habitat. Something like that is meant primarily for ground-to-orbit transport, and in a pinch travelling between the inner planets during optimal launch windows. It’s not intended to be lived in for prolonged periods of time. I don’t think it came here on purpose. It must have gotten knocked out of orbit and just found its way here. I wish I could tell for sure if there was someone inside, but its mini-magnetosphere is really scattering the sensor beams.”
“But doesn’t its magnetosphere mean there must be Macrogravitals inside?” Pomoko asked. “Even normal cosmic radiation is dangerous to humans without our enhanced DNA repair and chromamelanin, isn’t it?”
“They might have died before they had a chance to shut it off,” Kali suggested as tactfully as she could. “If there are bodies in there, we should recover them and send them back to Earth.”
“Wait a minute. It’s pretty suspicious that there’s no transponder or identifying markings on the craft, isn’t it?” Vici asked. “This could be a trap or terrorist attack of some kind.”
“An attack? Why would anyone want to attack us?” Pomoko asked in dismay.
“They wouldn’t. She’s being paranoid,” Kali said dismissively as she comfortingly slid her arm around her. “Vici, save your racist horror stories for when we’re not within visual distance of an Earth vessel, okay?”
“Reavers are real! Macrogravitals brains get cooked by cosmic radiation and they go crazy!” Vici insisted.
“Reavers are most definitively not real, Vicillia. Nonetheless, we probably shouldn’t rule out the possibility of an attack,” Akioneeda conceded. “Star Sirens now make up the majority of all humans permanently living off-world, and that’s not a lead we’re ever likely to lose. We’ve only been around a hundred years or so, and there are already over two million of us. We breed like rabbits.”
“That’s because we fuck like rabbits,” Vici said lasciviously, only to incur glares of confusion from the others. “Well, not directly, since we don’t reproduce naturally, but it’s good for our esprit de corps, right girls?”
“The point being, there are factions on Earth who view our current and forecasted success as a threat to their own potential expansion into space,” Akioneeda continued, failing to hide her annoyance at the younger Siren’s interruption.
“That’s backwards. Macrogravitals evolved to live on planets, and we were literally made to colonize space,” Pomoko objected. “Why shouldn’t we breed like rabbits? The solar system, the galaxy, the universe should be filled with as many Star Sirens as they can sustain!”
“And they will be – eventually. But if we prioritize our long-term survival over the near term, we might not have a future to prioritize,” Akioneeda gently reminded her. “Steady, safe, and sustainable growth is better than fast and risky growth. We don’t want to spook anyone down on Earth into doing something that might hurt us, which is why we have to abide by the Solaris Accords.”
“Exactly! We’re signatories of the Solaris and Orion Accords, which we’ve always been in complete compliance with,” Kali said. “We’ve already lowered our population growth to two percent per annum, and have agreed to lower it to point four percent when we hit two billion. Anyone attacking us over that would be in violation of the Accords and incur the wrath of every other signatory, including Olympeon, of which we are still a protectorate.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me that we’re technically compatriots with Macrogravitals,” Vici said in disgust.
“Vicillia, a little respect please for our creators and allies,” Akioneeda reprimanded her.
“I gratefully respect them, Preceptress Akio, because no one able to launch this ship out to us would ever do something so suicidally foolish as commit an act of war against Olympeon,” Kali insisted.
“You make valid points, Kali, and I’m not saying it’s likely this is an attack, but we should still proceed with caution,” Akioneeda reiterated. “At the very least, the scanner still has enough resolution to rule out the possibility of there being any potential high-yield explosives on the vessel. I think it’s worth the risk to jet over and see what’s inside; if that’s something you girls would be interested in?”
“Yes, preceptress,” Kali and Vici said in unison, each immediately assuming an attentive posture with their hands behind their backs as they nodded politely, eager for the opportunity to explore a non-Siren spacecraft. Pomoko, however, joined in a little more reticently, and solely because she didn’t want to upset her companions.
Unlike Vici, she never told stories about Macrogravitals driven into mad savagery by the harshness of space, because she found them unbearably terrifying.
The four of them filed into the airlock and grabbed a lungful of air before depressurizing, the short siphons at the base of their necks cinching shut to hold it in. The only things they brought with them were a small bundle of additional air pods and a field kit, both of which were carried by Pomoko.
The enhanced proteins and nanofiber weaves in their bare skin rendered them impervious to vacuum exposure, and their eyes were protected by transparent graphene lenses. Hundreds of small jets of light from all over their bodies propelled them across the gap between their shuttle and the errant vessel, with Kali and Vici taking advantage of the vast open space to perform challenging acrobatic maneuvers.
Akio was the first to arrive at the foreign spacecraft, circling it several times for any signs that might give her some idea about what it was and what it was doing there, but found none. She even peered into a porthole, but could see nothing of note in the darkened interior.
When she reached the airlock, she gestured for Pomoko to hand her a small but rugged cyberdeck from the field kit. While her exocortexes possessed more computing power than she could ever need, the cyberdeck contained a compact suite of sensor arrays for environmental analysis, as well as antennas and ports for electronic interfaces. Syncing the device with her own exocortexes, a holographic AR display projected itself on her bionic lenses.
It didn’t take long for her to find a frequency to engage with the airlock control mechanism, and even less time to find a skeleton key that could best that woefully inadequate security system. As the outer door of the airlock dilated open, Akio signalled for Kali and Vici to rejoin them, and they all funnelled into the ship together. The outer door snapped behind them, sealing them in complete darkness that was staved off solely by their photonic diodes until some emergency lights began to flicker on and off at random intervals.
As the airlock slowly began to repressurize, the Sirens – who were accustomed to an atmosphere maintained at conditions optimal for them - shuddered slightly at the feeling of foreign air creeping up against their skin.
“The air’s acceptable. It’s a standard oxygen/nitrogen mix with no detectable toxins or pathogens present,” Akioneeda assured them as she opened her siphons and exhaled the breath she had been holding since they left their own shuttle. “CO2’s a little high, but not dangerous.”
“Doesn’t high CO2 mean there’s someone here?” Pomoko asked, nervously looking about in all directions as she clutched her supplies close to her.
“Not necessarily. I’m not detecting any human environmental DNA,” Akio replied confidently. “I am however sampling some environmental DNA that doesn’t match anything on file. It might take some time to analyze it enough to make any sense of it. The power system is failing, which is why the lights aren’t working right. The electrical surges are generating enough EM interference that the sensor beam is still pretty scattered, so I can’t see much through the bulkheads. Keep your diodes lit up bright and stay alert.”
The shadowy main corridor was hexagonal in shape, spanning several meters across and roughly twenty-five meters from end to end. It was broken into six segments, with every other segment containing a pair of hexagonal doorways across from one another, along with a door at each end of the corridor.
“The door next to us should be the engine module, and the one at the other end should be the command and communications center,” Akio said, opening the door to the engine room and sticking her cyberdeck inside. “I’m going to do a quick scan of each room before we start rummaging through everything, so don’t go sticking your tails anywhere they don’t belong until I’m done.”
The other three Sirens all nodded obediently, and limited their exploration of the ship to a solely visible inspection. None of them were used to being in low light conditions, and their pupils were dilated so much they were nearly round. Though their visual acuity was raptor-like in its detail and they could see into the ultra-violet spectrum, night vision had not been a priority when they had been designed. Nonetheless, their large eyes and vertical pupils still let them see better in the dark than any unmodified human.
“The writing is Cyrillic, but everything I can see is just basic labels. I can’t tell for certain which language it is,” Kali said. “That doesn’t mean much though. This thing is definitely second-hand, likely even stolen. That would explain the lack of identification. Maybe whoever stole it got spooked and just set it adrift.”
“So, it’s a pirate ship then?” Pomoko asked, sounding slightly relieved. “That’s better than terrorists, or Reavers.”
“It is not. We’re space mermaids. Space pirates are our natural enemies,” Vici claimed. “If they catch us, they’ll pry the exocortexes from our skulls and pluck out our photonic diodes one by one, then bind us to the front of the ship as figureheads.”
“Vicillia, that is enough!” Akio reprimanded her as she scanned the next room. “Stop trying to scare her! Kali’s right. This is an old ship that’s been stripped of nearly every non-essential piece of equipment. Someone stole it, and then abandoned it when the authorities started closing in. That’s it. There’s not a raiding party of pirates hiding behind one of these doors.”
“Famous last words,” Vici muttered, defensively folding her arms across her chest.
Kali once again put her arm around Pomoko in comfort and gave her a loving kiss on the head.
The glowing, sylph-like Sirens continued floating through the dim and unevenly lit corridor like ghosts, checking one room after another and finding nothing of note until they finally reached the end.
“Now that we’re done checking for pirates, we can focus on the command center,” Akio announced. “Assuming they haven’t been wiped, we’ll check the ship’s logs and records for evidence of its origin and how it got here. If it was stolen, we’ll send it to Pink Floyd Station and they can deal with it. Otherwise, we’ll be free to keep it as salvage.”
She raised her finger to tap the AR command to open the door, but suddenly hesitated.
“What is it?” Kali asked.
Akio squinted at her HUD display in alarm, but seemed reluctant to answer.
“There’s something on the other side,” she whispered.
Without warning, the door was manually thrown open with a physical force that shocked the gracile Sirens. From the impenetrable gloom beyond the door’s threshold, there emerged a grotesque figure the likes of which the Sirens had never seen before.
Its round torso was squat and bloated, vaguely resembling that of a frog’s. Its veiny, crimson hide was mottled in purple splotches from where those veins had broken. Four long limbs dangled down limply, each possessing five boney, claw-like digits. As with the Star Sirens, its pinky fingers had been repurposed into a second opposable thumb; but unlike them, its digits were arranged more radially so that its hands resembled starving sea stars. It possessed a prehensile tail as well, though closer in appearance to an opossum’s than the Siren’s simian tails.
It was the front of the creature that was most alien to them. It had no neck or even a head distinct from its bulging torso. It had two eyes on mobile stalks, each a bloodshot blue with a crescent-shaped pupil. There was a blowhole near the top of its vaguely defined head, and near the bottom hung a toothless proboscis, as prehensile as an elephant’s trunk.
All four Sirens broke out into screams at the sight of the deformed creature, jetting backward as quickly as they could. Wheezing, the creature lurched towards them, slowly raising its proboscis in the air as it did so.
Vici grabbed the bundle of air pods that Pomoko had released in her panic and began beating the creature over the top of the head with it. Though she possessed just barely enough physical strength to walk in nothing greater than Lunar gravity, her love for her sisters and her fear, disgust, and contempt for anything else drove her to assail the hideous being as hard as she could.
The creature groaned, though it seemed to be more of sorrow than of pain. Raising its arms up protectively while keeping its proboscis elevated, it slowly sunk down to the bottom of the corridor as Vici bashed away at it.
“Vici! Vici, stop!” Kali commanded, grabbing hold of her and pulling her back. “It’s not attacking us!”
She was right, of course. Despite its fearsomely unfamiliar form, it actually seemed rather pathetic as it lay quivering on the floor, making no sound aside from laboured and gasping breaths.
“Alien! It’s an alien!” Vici cried in dismay, scarcely believing her own eyes.
Though that improbable, if more palpable, explanation for the being’s origin may have seemed the most obvious, Kali felt a growing sense of horror well up inside her as the pieces started to click together. She glanced over at Akio who was rapidly reviewing the readings from her cyberdeck, and could tell from the revulsion on her face that she had reached the same conclusion.
“Preceptress; please say that it’s an alien,” she pleaded in a softly cracking voice.
Akio looked up at her with pity, and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “But that, save for the skill and wisdom of Olympeon and the Grace of Cosmothea, is us.”
“It… it’s human?” Pomoko asked, floating up behind Kali and Vici and just barely daring to peek over their shoulders at the horrid beast.
“It’s bred from a human base, yes,” Akio explained. “Heavily modified, of course. Much more than ourselves, though nowhere near as adroitly. It’s a genetic chimera; probably because its embryo was cobbled together from multiple lines of modified cells. Its hide and at least a few of its major organs appeared to have been grown separately and grafted on in vivo. It’s literally a Frankenstein Monster.”
“What’s that old saying? Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein was the Doctor, not the monster; wisdom is knowing that Doctor Frankenstein was the monster,” Kali quoted, pitying the poor wretch that wallowed before her.
“Yeah. I think… I think that whoever made this was trying to make a new species of space-adapted humans, probably in the hopes of eventually surpassing us,” Akio speculated. “But it’s a failed experiment. All of its genomes are highly degraded and riddled with off-target mutations and poorly thought-out on-target ones. Its cells are barely functional, and it’s undergoing mass organ failure at this very moment.”
“It… he’s dying?” Kali asked softly.
“It was probably dying before it even decanted; it’s been held together with prayers and twine,” Akio explained.
“Good! It’s an abomination! It never should’ve existed in the first place!” Pomoko declared.
“Pomoko, shush!” Kali yelled, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Can… can he hear us?”
“It can hear, I think. Its brain size and neuronal density are actually over the optimal limit, and its neurochemistry and connectome are a complete mess,” Akio replied. “It’s probably an idiot savant, at best. It likely has some linguistic capability, but I don’t think it would be able to understand Sirensong. It doesn’t have any kind of speech organs or comm implant, either. Its digestive and respiratory systems are separate, and that blowhole doesn’t have any kind of syrinx.”
“In other words, he has no mouth and he must scream,” Kali lamented. “Did he escape, do you think?”
“It must have,” Akio nodded. “Pomoko may have been a bit insensitive just now, but she’s right. This thing’s a violation of multiple transnational laws, treaties and conventions. Its creators wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. It… it must have known that escaping its creators and whatever convoluted life-support system they were using to keep it alive would have meant a slow and painful death, but it did it anyway. All it could have hoped for was that someone would find it and be able to hold its creators accountable. We don’t understand enough about its anatomy to offer any meaningful assistance. The most we could do is prolong its suffering. I think we should just let it pass in peace; it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours at most now. We’ll return to our shuttle, tell the fleet what we found, and then have the carcass put in cryostasis as evidence. We’ll send it and this vessel to Olympeon, and they’ll deal with it. They’ll find who’s responsible and bring them to justice.”
“Yeah, we need to get back to the shuttle immediately for decontamination and med-screening. We could be infected by whatever microbes and nanites they stuffed into this bloated wretch,” Pomoko said with barely restrained panic, jetting back to the airlock as quickly as she could.
Akio and Vici followed closely behind, but Kali lingered in place as she gazed at the creature’s proboscis, which it still held upright. She recalled that elephants on Earth would raise their trunks when they were dying, and that the ancient Romans, despite being one of the cruellest cultures of humans to exist, had still recognized this as a plea for mercy. Though the gulf between the two species was significant, one self-aware being could still recognize the suffering of another, and be moved to pity by it.
“I’m staying with him,” she announced softly.
“What?” Pomoko shouted, she and the others all spinning around to look at her in bewilderment.
“Until he passes. Akio said it wouldn’t be long,” Kali replied.
“Why?” Vici asked.
“So he doesn’t die alone!” Kali screamed.
Pomoko started jetting back towards her friend, but Akio caught her and gently shook her head in refusal. She silently ushered the two of them back through the airlock and, with some reluctance, left Kali alone with the dying creature.
Kali tenderly took hold of the being’s trunk with her left hand, compassionately petting it with her right. He shuddered slightly, letting go of a noticeable amount of tension in his malformed body. Snorting from his blowhole, he focused his teetering eyestalks up at her, and she could see in those eyes a great, crushing sorrow, both from the suffering he had endured and the lost potential of the life he could have had if fate had been kinder.
A life like the one Kali had led as a privileged and well-bred daughter of Olympeon, and would most likely go on to live for many centuries more.
The tears in her eyes reached a critical mass now, budding off into tiny orbs and floating out into the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. It was all she could think to say, and she said it in English, hoping there was a better chance of him understanding it than her native language.
Remarkably, he reacted by raising the flat palm of his right hand up to the space beneath his trunk – a struggle for him even in the absence of gravity – and then lowered it with the palm facing up and out. Kali wasted no time in running the gesture through her exocortexes, frantic to decipher what the creature could be trying to tell her before it was too late.
It was sign language for ‘thank you’.