Challenge #02705-G148: Apparently This is Normal
Humans are insane. Definitely. Undeniably. Humans are insane by the standards of the greater galactic community. That did not prepare anyone for the sight of one of the passengers, at most five from the look of them, possibly younger from the sound of them, seizing a mug meant to hold hot liquids, approaching their nearest parent, and saying:
“Hey! Where my coffee?”
That the desired liquid turned out to be hot cocoa that the child was only pretending was coffee did little to ease the crew’s distress at the thought of the chaos that could be created by a very young human energized by caffeine. – Anon Guest
Humans are very strange. Some would definitely classify the entire species as insane. They are remarkably safe despite being Deathworlders and it is their very insanity that might be responsible for making them so. Science is still attempting to determine the truth. Individual Humans can have understandable logic, but once they gather in groups, once they band together in packs or families… all bets are off.
Case in point, mid-journey for the Planetary Surveyor Archis XVII, where a family of Humans are all simultaneously Ships’ Human. Even the young, which is currently still in the educational phase of maturation. The time is breakfast, and one of the communal nest of Humans is busy with meal preparation whilst the youngest, Human Jil, is allegedly consuming their nutrition.
Humans have been known to be possessive about peculiar things. They can, have, and will pack-bond with anything. This has been noted in drinking vessels also carrying emotional weight. A Human will go out of their way to ensure that they drink out of their drinking vessel and none other, despite the vessels being nearly indistinguishable from each other. In the case of Human Jil, the vessel was a very large insulated mug with the words, Mind the Undertow in an amusing font[1]. This was the vessel she grabbed and inspected, finding it wanting.
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Challenge #02704-G147: The Dying of the Might
They were wealthy. Beyond wealthy. They owned two space stations and an entire solar system, and ran these places harshly. Those that displeased them lost their jobs and were often left in ruin, even for the smallest infractions. Entire families sent into desperate poverty and isolation just because a single member made a mistake on the job.
And for them? Life was excellent. They had everything they could ever need or want. They lived in utter luxury. They had more Time than they could ever spend and had a devil-may-care attitude toward the rest of the universe. But you know what they say about how all parties must end? The people, tired of mistreatment, refused to work. Found other jobs. Some who knew the products they produced found a way to make knockoffs that were just as good, in fact in some ways better, than the original, and sold them for far less. Business partners and trade deals began to dry up as people found other ways to live.
Even the solar system they owned, the sun suddenly going unstable and the people that lived there all desperately fleeing until no one remained on the one inhabitable planet. The unstable sun flaring out, it had a previously unknown 20,000 year cycle of stability, then severe solar storms that lashed the entire system, before returning to a stable, calm, course. This sudden stormy period ruined them. Their finances slowly dried up, the life of luxury and constant spending suddenly curtailed, they began having to sell many of the luxuries they took for granted. Now, they had to live the life they had forced upon so many others. But could they? – Anon Guest
My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:/ Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair! – Percy Bysshe Shelley.
It’s a conspiracy. It has to be a conspiracy. Those losers in the CRC were behind it for sure. They stole my living resources. They took everything away from me. I’d sue them, but… listen. If you listen, you’ll see how unfair things were.
I owned the system. I made the rules. It was mine. I was the law. I had all the “immortality” treatments and gone corporate. I had every Second of Time. I used the rules, then I made the rules. It was mine I could live forever and own the universe if I wanted.
Then those idiots stole it all.
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Challenge #02703-G146: Gathering For Time
A human with a fascination with the history and preparation of toxic plants for food is caught in a survival situation, on a death world filled with toxic plants, with a group of havenworlders who require simple sugars. With a scanner, personal knowledge of ancient human techniques for purging toxins from potential foodstuffs to make them edible, and a time limit based on the amount of prepackaged food that survived the crash, this scholar has to find a way to process certain death into edibility.
Bonus points if the human has to or chooses to eat incompletely prepared food in order to give more packaged safety to the havenworlders and winds up sick enough to be miserable, but not too sick to gather, pound, dry, crush, soak, and boil things. – Anon Guest
There are three Havenworlders and me. Stuck on this planet with little in the way of stored food, and a molecular disassembler/printer that is beyond anyone’s ability to repair. My fuzzies are doing their best, but I know it’s a lost cause. Good news, there’s scanners that still work. Bad news, the batteries are fifty percent borked and they take five-ever to charge. I have a rotating system that will do.
Should have sprung for an extreme livesuit. That one would have had its own molecular disassembler/printer and none of this would have been an issue. But I didn’t because it would have put me in debt, so now we’re stuck.
Hi. I’m an idiot, and I have to science the living flakk out of a landing zone that’s mostly toxic and mostly broken tools. Good news - the emergency beacon works. Bad news - it’s still going to be months before help arrives. We’ve all got enough ration packs to last maybe three weeks if we try to stretch it. That means I have three weeks to sort something out. No Last Lie Bee Ess. Actual all survive situation.
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Challenge #02702-G145: Early Linguistic Development
(Based on a true interaction between infant and parent)
Baby to GalStand translation:
GagagaGAGAGA (Look, Sepa! I have a piggy!)
Squiiiiinnnk squuuooooiiiinnnnnkkk (My piggy says oink)
Vrrreeeerrrr (My piggy is a vehicle now)
Wuf (I’m a dog.) – Anon Guest
Of all the things that occurred when Humans began to integrate into Galactic Society, the one they least expected was Human Young. Intellectually, the Galactics knew that small Humans happened, and did so regularly. They never expected the peculiarities of Human Parental interaction with their own young.
Humans, they learned, took a very long time to be considered capable adults. They began life as helpless beings that needed assistance for everything, and took a year to begin basic locomotion and verbal capabilities. Nevertheless, the Human Parentals talked and otherwise interacted with their Young with seeming ease.
The first recorded encounter with such interaction happened on the Trader Vessel Lively Shanty, which hosted a Human family. Human So, seated at their console for Light Duties, reacted to something below their workstation. “Oh. Hello. I thought the monitor was quiet. How did you get out?”
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Challenge #02701-G144: Unhealthy Social Strategies
Human Sean has invited me to drink with him, and to talk about his woes. After a few bottles he spilled what’s been on his mind. “my friend is three-timing”. I was shocked, I learned that humans were monogamous, of course falling in love with another is not all that surprising, but three?! In that moment I asked “do their partners knows about this?” Sean finished the bottle a new bottle before answering.”they do, and they confessed that that have a relation with the other two”. Confused I’ve asked if he could clarify. He responded that his friend and his three partners were all dating each other. I was flabbergasted, Sean offered me another bottle. – Anon Guest
[AN: Humans are not always monogamous and lots of them have not been throughout history. Happy polycules exist]
Human Sean was not in a good mood. This was evidenced by his stationary attitude that only needed a small raincloud over his head to communicate the depression. As it was, the bottle was not a good sign. Human Sean did not usually over-indulge in alcohol nor sit that still for so long that the local Skitties took up perches on him.
Naturally, as one of the designated Human Companions, it was my job to ensure Human Sean’s mental health… but I was also having concerns for him. Human pack-bonding is disturbingly infectious. “There is a problem? May I help?”
Human Sean noticed me and gestured to a chair. “Eh. I found out Max is three-timing Pol.” He looked glum. This had to be bad news, but I was also unfamiliar with the term.
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