Challenge #03009-H086: You Think You’re Tough

Be a hell of a blade for a space warrior to carry. I can see them now, them drawing it from their belt when another deathworlder, an enemy, tries to push their luck thinking the “squishy human” is weak and helpless. They clean their nails with the tip and go “You really want to do this?” – DaniAndShali

Humans only seem to have no natural defenses. Many learn this lesson the hard way. Such as the Gendraaugi, Yauch, who had come to the Edge of the Galactic Alliance just to cause trouble. In such places, there are dives made exclusively for Deathworlders.

The walls, ceilings, and floors are specially re-enforced. The tables are bolted to the floor. The drinking vessels are all made of metal and periodically panel-beaten back into shape. The serving staff are behind the best possible barrier and carry heavy stunners at all times. That’s how you can tell. Some of the classier versions have large windows made out of homing microbots that reassemble themselves because the owners know that this is a form of Deathworlder enrichment.

This one was not one of the classier establishments. If you were lucky, they hosed it out once a week and maybe re-dented the flagons annually. They did have Time Per Sivu[1] pricing, which meant that nobody with a very dented flagon was short-changed. Yauch didn’t need the influence of inebriants to ramp up their courage. They just needed to find the toughest Deathworlder there and fight them.

[Check the source to see the full story]

(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #03004-H081: Guilt of the Survivor

I was a trained soldier, I taught others how to fight.

I was a trained soldier, I taught others how to escape.

I was a trained soldier, I taught others how to kill.

I was a trained …..soldier….. I taught them… how to die well.

A flower was placed upon the stone, tears sliding down their face. Two dozen stones, each one with the same, white and red, flower, upon it. The old man’s head bowed. His caretaker, a gentle havenworlder, placed a hand on his shoulder. The human looked to them, bent, broken, the voice metallic from an artificial voice box, the prosthetic hand upon a cane. “Alright, we can go back home now. I just wanted to see my friends again.” – Fighting Fit

Humans have a saying for everything. If not a saying, then a quote. As storytellers, they are a species that have a way with words. The one that came to mind now was, There are old soldiers, and there are bold soldiers. There are no old and bold soldiers. Walking now through the serried ranks of Humanity’s dead, in a monument the size of a small city, Companion Thruk could understand why.

Human Sam marched past the monuments. Columns in the style of a past age, all cut short. Some were much shorter than others. This, the unspoken words said, is where the bold ones went. Human Sam was one of the rare ones who had grown old. They were lined up as they had been lined up in battle. Each troop. Each sergeant. Here and there, amidst the rows and columns, were gaps. Other old soldiers had yet to join the army of the dead.

Human Sam sometimes joked that ze was halfway there already. Two and a half legs, one arm, one eye, and a few internal organs had been replaced with artificial substitutes. Age had indeed wearied him. If the years condemned, he gave no sign. Companion Thruk had to trot to keep up with hir as ze marched through the troops of the dead. So many of these columns had had time to age. So few were complete, indicating that the deceased had lived a full life before they assembled for the hereafter.

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #03003-H080: An Honest Mistake

These havenworlders were marsupials and, as such, it was not unusual to see a tiny head poking out of a specially modified set of ship skins from time to time. When the human said she was expecting, her spouse was excited, but the havenworlders were confused that the humans politely turned down the offer for a modified set of skins with a pouch opening. – DaniAndShali

It was hot news on the Trembling Whisker - the Ships’ Humans were reproducing! The pair had announced after passing the first of their danger periods, which explained why Human Til had been so frequently nauseated lately. So the Humans said. The full mysteries of Deathworlder biology were not for the faint of heart. Companion Fris had gone as deep as she dared, and the rest was up to Medik Bruis.

There was one thing that every expecting parental needed. Companion Fris had one printed in Human Til’s size with plenty of room to stretch. Some pairs of Ships’ Skins pants, with a pouch allowance. So the little one could poke their head out when the mood suited them and greet their community. Dressed up with some other essentials, like little blankets and tiny clothing for the imminent young. Humans appreciated gifts for eventualities like that.

Human Til was looking exhausted, when Human Bel answered the door chime. “Growing a new Human is hard work,” said Bel as he accepted the gift. “Look, hon. Love gifts.” Human Til, slouched on the couch in loose clothing, was looking singularly unimpressed with life in general.

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #03002-H079: Friendship Offering

They were used to having humans aboard ships over the years. One group or another would work with them to protect them whenever they were heading out to map the Edge. As usual, they had four humans with them. Two scientists, two guards. But one of the guards was different. Unlike all the humans the havenworlders had worked with in the past, this individual politely declined all of the sweet desserts that were offered in friendship and preferred fresh fruits and sliced vegetables to munch on. They weren’t vegetarians, but apparently, they didn’t really care for sweets. – NoSweetsPlease

In the “Helpful Tips” section of the Human Interaction Manual, it said, When all other efforts at pack-bonding fail, offer food. Humans like sweet things and offerings of treats will win them over in no time. There were numerous appendices of recipes with easily-understood or obtainable ingredients and simple replacements. Though things like Snickers Salad and Cookie Salad had to be jokes that someone took too seriously[1].

Companion Zeng checked the database of Human jokes just to check. No, the most recent post was concerning the one about the roasted camel, and its parallel, the roasted elephant. Second to that was how to cook and serve an Australian parrot[2]. People actually ate the foods in the recipes section. Not that Zeng was going to try any time soon.

Simple offerings were the best. Something easily acquired and not with versions that could take up to a month for curing. Wow. Some Humans would eat anything. Bark, bugs, any number of poisons, the one bit of an extremely delicate fruit that had to be burned and treated before it could be handled safely… Some of them even ate clay[3]. Zeng, after making certain of the recommendations, went with simple sugary treats. Fudge, to be precise.

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #03001-H078: How to Befriend a Monster

An alien meets human’s pet cat and has an existential crisis dealing with the fact that their seemingly sane friend keeps a tiny ferocious predator around and thinks it is cute. – Anon Guest

“[GENDER PRONOUN] is just an old softie,” should definitely be classified as words of impending horror. Brex had just been told not to mind Meep, and then spotted a low, fast shape zip through his peripheral vision. Human Pod had assured him, “He’s just an old softie, really.”

It was at that moment, several doors and opening procedures away from the airlocks, that Brex remembered that Humans regularly make pets out of predators. That was why he scanned the room for safe retreat areas and said, “He’s not going to attack me, is he?”

Human Pod looked up from inspecting various vessels. Ze hadn’t said anything about small fast streaks of motion in random corners. “Huh? Oh, he might find your feathers interesting, but if you stay still, he’ll get bored pretty quick.”

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #02999-H076: Full on Pinkies Up

There were cupcakes, which immediately drew attention to the activity. There were also the ship’s humans, both of them, sitting quietly and sipping from fancifully patterned drinking vessels, despite usually becoming a shrieking maelstrom of highly active competition when interacting with one another. There was a small container with a spoon in it that, upon inspection, contained sugar.

…there were more cupcakes than two humans could reasonably eat on their own. There were extra cups. There was, it turned out, an open invitation to sit down and join them to anyone who was interested, until all the seats were taken. – Anon Guest

Humans will drink anything. Worse, they’ll make a culture out of it. Ceremonies. Rituals. Establishments. As pack creatures, they involved the sharing of food and drink as part of their bonding process. This just had to be one of the more involved rituals.

The table had been laid over with an ornate cloth. There was fine china, paper-thin and delicate. There was cutlery made out of silver. Not so extraordinary in the current age, but the craftsmanship visible told any observer that they were old. Older, perhaps, than space travel. This is a special occurrence, said the layout, but the empty places and settings said, We are waiting for people.

The fare available on tiered platters scanned as harmless to all crew. So, too, did the liquid inside the ornate teapot. Which said, You are welcome. Companion Hrik still approached with caution. As soon as the Humans noticed her approached, they looked… anticipatory. It was hard not to feel like she had decorative vegetation behind her ears.

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #02997-H074: For Neurochemical Imbalances

A level 3 deathworlder has to come bail their human out of jail again! The human has an arm band showing they are currently battling a mental health issue. The poor person is an addict undergoing treatment and had escaped from the care center. The havenworlder medic at the caretaker’s side sighs, shaking their head as the human is dealing with a major hangover. Helping addicts clean up is so incredibly frustrating! Sure the work is rewarding, but it’s no wonder the caretakers of these poor souls see their therapists so frequently. – DaniAndShali

Every Human has their problems, and Human Mal had one of the more destructive ones. Addiction. Ordinarily, the red and purple armband should have gained a contact to security regarding which abused substances should have been monitored but… every addict knows where to get a fix, and every station has its seedy underbelly where such transactions occur.

Human Mal was in pain. They self-medicated to alleviate that pain with a substance ill-advised for the purpose. When the actual pain was gone, they faced the pain of withdrawal and therein lay the rub. Though they recognised intellectually that the chemicals involved were a very bad idea, the actual bodily consequences occasionally overwhelmed rational thought.

They just needed one little dose to take the edge off. Just enough to ease the pain. Just one little dose. Of course, they were neither desperate enough nor silly enough to try and get the stuff from legal avenues; and they were wily enough to both escape notice and seek out the seedier avenues of the station. The problem with all of this was, of course, the morning after.

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #02995-H072: A Great Need of Angels

They were privateers. They attacked pirate ships as their primary prey. However, there were times they attacked civilian vessels as well. However, when they attacked civilian vessels, it was not the outcome people expected. While everyone was unconscious from the knockout gas, they would go around the ship repairing any damage they did, and any issues they noticed, make sure the crew and passengers were unharmed, and then leave a listing right where the captains and crews could find them of where their vulnerabilities are, and how to better prepare should the next attacker be of the unfriendly kind. – Teachers

It started small, as big things often do. Their usual routine had become almost dull. Step one, sneak up on ship; step two, dock inside their scanner’s blind spot; Step three, fill the ship with knockout gas; step four, profit. They freed every slave they found, and took any ill-got gains. Until they tripped over the Grubworm.

It was a low-grade scavenger ship that only turned up on their targeting algorithm because of the large volumes of gold and organic material. What they actually had was a hold full of old wires and terraformable soil. It also had several problems with the engines, life support, and sundry nonsense that included basic defenses. Feeling guilty, the crew of the Manic Liberator set to work while the two crewmembers slumbered safely in their bunk niches.

They fixed up and added variety to the air scrubbing system, including the wick watering system, which was one good sneeze away from total collapse. The repaired the food printer. They added some missing nutrients to the nutrient packs, which had been empty for some significant time. They even left some treats for the ship’s cat after stopping to pet the slumbering feline[1].

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #02994-H071: Survival’s Edge

One of the squishier, timid alien species is marooned on a dangerous planet with their ship’s human. The escape pod has disintegrated ejecting various components over the landscape. The human is injured and unconscious through the ordeal. The alien survives by initially reciting the mantra of “What would Human Sal do?”. And then venturing out to retrieve bits of the craft to create a shelter, healing technologies, food, etc… Macgyvering all the way as they have seen their human do in the past. Even managing to unlock the mysteries of duct tape. All while fending off dangerous wildlife and even a near deathworlder sentient to save them both. In the end the mantra changes to the last lie “everything will be alright, you will be right behind me” when they realize they will have to leave their human behind to venture out of the makeshift camp to save them both. Later when they are both safe – To save their own psyche they can only praise the human for saving them both and attributes their own actions to the human even so much as saying you were right, you were right behind me. The human of course having no memory of these events is totally baffled. And even though they can’t admit to their own actions a seed for adventure has been planted in their heart and is passed on to their offspring. – Random Paine (Sorry if this was a bit long for a prompt. I love your work.)

[AN: There are long prompts that make sense, and then there’s long prompts that boil down to “tell this story your way”. Of the two, the latter give me less of the flexibility I like when making a story.]

Beeping. The sensation of a bigger pain lurking behind the ache Sal felt and a sensation of floating pink haze. The distinctive squish of antibacterial phage virus jelly. The whirr and squeeze of a blood pressure monitor. Blink. Medik cream surroundings. lights and graphs and a calming message on the screen directly above.

You are experiencing medical care. Please remain calm. That message faded out and another faded in. If you are claustrophobic, the panic button is in easy reach. It came with a diagram. Nice to know the Alliance medical profession had learned from a few surprise claustrophobes. Many spacers discovered to their shock that they weren’t cut out to bide their time in an ICU drawer.

There was soft and calming music to accompany the soft and calming scenery playing on the overhead screens. It was comfortable, but Sal was not yet inclined to sink back down into dreamland. The last thing ze remembered was… putting all the safeguards around Myrdd. They’d been about to crash the lifepod and…

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(Source: peakd.com)

Challenge #02993-H070: Small Disaster Control

Sometimes, previously scheduled social bonding activities go wrong, especially when dealing with humans. In this case, one of the humans in question was found drinking beer in the corner and crying during a time that was blocked out for a social gathering. When questioned, they explained that there had been some tension between two other members of the group, which had just sort of gotten worse when they tried to defuse it, until the whole gaming session had dissolved into raised voices and angry faces… at which point they felt the need to excuse themselves and have a drink to help them calm down, and could they have a hug please? – Anon Guest

Human Kliss, usually active and carefree, was huddled in a corner with an inebriant bulb. Their face was wet with lachrymal excretions, their breathing was erratic, and they were avoiding eye contact with anyone. It was such a jarring difference to the established norm that Companion Joen had to act.

She approached with caution and put herself in Kliss’ range of view. “Bad day at the office?” It was a good conversation starter when a Human was in a mood like this. It never necessitated a bad day at work, or in the office. It merely necessitated a bad mood or bad times.

“Bad day in the gaming room,” sighed Kliss, voice wobbling. “Everyone at the table dunked on my new character after Rengin bit the big one. They hated the build, they hated the voice, they hated the art… but they okayed everything last sesh. I don’t get it.” Kliss wiped their face. “Do they not want me to play with them any more? Do they hate me? What did I do to get this hostility?”

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(Source: peakd.com)