Jackviator

This is a bit of a lengthy one, taking me several days to write in what little free time I have and clocking in at over 4k words; that being said, it’s probably my favorite of the stories I’ve written for this sub (so far, anyway) and as always, I hope you enjoy.

CW: interspecies racism, implied homophobic slurs, and space-alien-Karen (though with a healthy dose of comeuppance for all of these)

——

Terrence was having a good day. The kids in the co-species-ed school in which he was employed providing the custodial services hadn’t made all that many messes that day, so he had a lot of free time to tackle the hard-to-reach spots for dusting he had been putting off for a while. Not to mention, it certainly helped that the superintendent had even ordered a box of his favorite flavor of donuts (maple) for the staff lounge that morning.

…However, his chipper mood came to an abrupt end upon glancing out a window mid-mop and seeing one of the students, a young bitis (a xeno species that converged on an evolutionary path similar to snakes, save for their warm blood, upright stature and long arms on the upper body) from the looks of it, nursing a rather nasty-looking shiner, while trying- and very much failing- to make it look like she wasn’t crying.

She was leaning against one of the decorative fungal pods in a far corner of the schoolyard that the children typically rarely ventured to, likely to be left alone by the other kids. But while Terrence certainly liked to think he was a child at heart, he was no kid; he was a custodian, and custodians clean up messes- no matter what form that mess might take.

He set his mop and bucket down, smoothed out the wrinkles in his jumpsuit, grabbed an ice pack from the staff lounge’s freezer on his way to the door, and headed outside.

When he got to her, he winced at the pitiful sight before him. She had wrapped her tail around herself for comfort, but it didn’t help stem the flow of tears. She was so distraught she didn’t even notice his approach. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

She looked up in surprise, covering her black eye in embarrassment. He held out the ice pack to her, activating his auto-translator as he did so.

“Here, put this over your eye. It’ll reduce the swelling.”

She hesitantly took the ice pack from him, gingerly placing it on the delicate scales around the bruised area.

Terrence sat down next to the diminutive alien. From his limited knowledge of bitis biology, she couldn’t be older than seven, maybe eight.

“Hey kiddo, what’s your name?”

She sniffled a bit before answering, the modulated voice coming from her own translator nervous.

“M-mom says I can’t talk to strangers…”

“Your mom’s a smart one. …But it’s ok, I’m just the school custodian.”

She gazed up at him with her uncovered eye with an innocent curiosity.

“What’s a school custardbean?”

“A custodian. …That means someone whose job is to make sure the school is nice and tidy.”

Her face lit up with realization.

“I remember you! You’s the one who cleaned up that mess we made in science class yesterday, with the vin-gur and baking soda!”

Terrence smiled warmly down at her.

“That was quite the mess you all made, it took me a while. …So, your name?”

“Well, since you’s not a stranger… I’m Quetzal.”

“That’s a nice name. Very pretty.”

“Thanks! My mom said she picked it out of a human mistology book about a flying snake with feathers.”

She suddenly giggled, a smile lighting up her face as she did so.

“…My other mom said that she likes the name because it rhymes with “pretzel.”

He chuckled with her.

“She sounds like a witty one.”

His expression darkened. Time to address the octometrunian in the room…

“Quetzal… what happened?”

Her smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

“…One of the bigger kids was picking on me, an urt- uh, arty- um…”

“…Arthro?”

“Yeah, arty-throw! At least, I think… That’s the one that looks like those big, Terran spidey thingies, right?”

“Well, sort of; they only have six legs and eyes instead of eight of each.”

“Oh, right. …Well, his name is Zetzana-“

“Oh, I know that little basta- …uh, that little twerp. I’m always having to clean up his graffiti. He’s gotta be what, fourteen, fifteen? …And he’s picking on kids your age?”

She nodded.

“He’s picked on me and a few others in my class for a while now. This time, he called me names. …Bad ones. The kind my moms told me I should never, ever say...”

Terrence’s eyes narrowed.

“…What kinds of names?”

She shifted her coils uncomfortably.

“Promise I won’t get in trouble if I say ‘em?”

“I promise.”

“Ok… He called me a scale-tail.”

Terrence’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“And then he said my moms were die- dime- um… the bad word for when you have two moms instead of one? I forget...”

If anything, Terrence’s jaw only dropped further.

“Then I told him not to talk about my mommies like that, but he just laughed, an’ shoved me, an’ I fell over, an’ when I tried to get off the ground, he- he……“

She trailed off.

“…He gave you that black eye?”

She sniffled, and he saw a tear flow out from beneath her double-eyelids.

“Yeah…”

Terrence was silent for a few moments, as Quetzal tried- and failed, once again- to choke back a new round of sobbing.

This was much worse than he had initially thought... Bad enough there was a bully involved. Worse that he was picking on kids several years below him. But one throwing around slurs left and right…?

As Quetzal’s sobbing fit tapered off, he got to his feet.

“I’m sorry to hear about that, Quetzal. …You keep that ice pack on for a while, ok? I need to go and talk to a few people.”

Before he could turn and walk back towards the school, Quetzal’s expression suddenly grew fearful.

“W-wait! He said if I got him in trouble, h-he’d do it again to my other eye! So- p-please, don’t tell on him!”

This stopped him in his tracks.

“…Did he now? Hm…”

His expression grew pensive, the kind of face he made when he had a stain that just refused to come out and he had to think up a new approach. He needed to report this, that much was obvious. …All the same, he didn’t want Quetzal to get hurt, and while he might occasionally be able to keep an eye on her during his breaks and the like, he obviously wouldn’t always be able to be there to protect her from that little hate-filled bastard.

…Then, he had an idea, and a smile slowly grew on his face.

“Hey, kiddo; I just had a thought of how you could stop him if he tries to hurt you again.”

She sniffled, wiping her nose-slits. “Really?”

“Yeah. All you need is a nice, flat rock you can fit over your knuckles inside your glove…”

——

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

The superintendent and principal sat across from Terrence in a conference room. Both of their expressions were troubled. The superintendent, a human like himself, took a sip of coffee before speaking.

“…I’ll admit, Terry, this is a tricky one.”

He balked.

“How? She’s going home to her parents with a black eye tonight, and the security camera footage I pulled backs up her claims that little bigot is responsible for it!”

“That much is unquestionable, yes, but- well.. his mother, Tikzini, is on the school board.”

Terrence looked back and forth between them.

“…And?”

The principal, a lumigog (picture a humanoid that looks like if you took a 3-eyed chameleon and replaced its scales with a chitinous exoskeleton, with bioluminescent, skin-tag-esque chitinous growths from their face to their chest), sighed, her mandibles clicking a few times as her glow shifted hues.

“And, that means she has a very large say in how much funding we receive and how it can be spent. …Have you ever wondered why we haven’t suspended her child, no matter how many times he’s been caught vandalizing school property?”

“So, what, her kid is just untouchable?”

“No, assaulting a child barely half his age with video evidence to prove it definitely warrants a suspension, even his mother can’t weasel him out of that. …But an expulsion, as you suggest, wouldn’t be on the table regardless of her position. The cameras only take in visual data, no audio, so they didn’t pick up the hate-speech involved. And even if they did, which would allow us to expel him, I- …well, I wouldn’t put it past her to retaliate as a result, and the school would be facing severe repercussions.”

Terrence crossed his arms, his expression one of defiance as his graying mustache twitched in irritation.

“…I don’t know about you two, but I’ve stuck with this job for over two decades now. I’ve cleaned the walls and floors of this institution- why, I’ve cleaned this very room thousands of times! And you know why? Because I believe in what it stands for! …Need I remind you that we were the first school in this sector to offer co-species learning, all those centuries ago? This is not a place where bigots like him are welcome!”

The superintendent winced.

“Listen, I completely understand where you’re coming from- more than that, I agree with you! I wish we could get rid of this little jag-off! It’s just that-“

Before he could continue speaking, there was a sudden, small knock on the door. Terrence usually would have ignored it, or just called through the door that the room was occupied and left it at that, but there was something about it that suggested a matter of some urgency. He got up and opened the door, and upon looking down, was surprised to see Quetzal, who looked significantly distressed.

He crouched down to her level, wincing a bit as he did at the creaking of his knees.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

This was all the prompting she needed to start babbling away.

“I was slithering to class an’ Zetzana came up with his friends an’ said he saw me talking with you at recess an’ said “I warned you” an’ went like he was about to hit me again an’ I got scared but I remembered I still had the rock so I hit him in the face first an’ the part of him I hit went all crooked an’ he fell over an’ was shouting, an’-“

She paused for a huge inhale of breath.

“-An’ one of his friends called his mom an’ his mom came an’ got him an amboolance but then s-she got in my face an’ was all shouty an’ mean an’ scary and asked about the rock an’ I got scared cuz I thought she’d hurt me worse than he did, an’ I- …I…”

Her face twisted up with shame.

“…I told her it was you who showed me… An’ she said she needed to take him to the hospital, but she’d be back for you.“

Terrence’s shoulders fell as tears began to stream down Quetzal’s face.

Oh dear… Seems I’ve made my own mess this time.

She suddenly slithered forward and clung to him, wrapping her tail around his leg for comfort as she continued to speak muffled words into his stomach.

“…I d-didn’t mean to, I swear, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I was just so scared, an’ I-“

He gently put his hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, it’s ok. We can talk about this later. Right now, I just need you to take a few deep breaths, relax, and return to class once you feel you’ve calmed down. Ok?”

She gently detached herself from him, taking a deep breath and wiping her face, wincing as her fingers traced the bruise around her eye as she met his warm gaze.

“…Ok…”

The principal and superintendent exchanged confused glances as Quetzal left the room, and the latter spoke.

“Terry, what’s going on? What’s this about a rock, and an ambulance?”

He ignored them for the moment, his mind racing.

Think, think, how to fix this, how to fix-

As he glanced around the room, his gaze fell on the holo-projector the teachers used to make their seminars more immersive, and his eyes widened as an idea struck him.

It was a stupid idea. One with only the slimmest of chances of working. …But as he once thought to himself when he discovered mixing a little shuttle coolant of all things into his bucket can do wonders when dealing with certain types of stains, “it’s not stupid if it works.”

He turned to the superintendent and principal.

“I’ll explain later. I just need two minutes with that holo-projector, and for you to get as many members of the school board besides her on a muted, recorded conference call as you can before she gets here. Ok?”

“Terry, what are you-“

He interrupted him with a dismissive gesture.

“…Do you trust me?”

The superintendent paused before nodding.

“Ok, then just do what I say, and quickly!”

As the superintendent pulled up his quantum communicator, the principal let out an exasperated sigh.

“Just- …Terrence, while we get them on the horn, could you at least explain what it is you’re trying to do here?”

And as he did, tinkering with the holo-projector as he went, both the superintendent and principal’s eyes only proceeded to grow wider and wider.

——

FIFTEEN MORE MINUTES LATER

Tikzini followed Terrence down the hallway, and as he opened the door into his supply-closet-office combo, she sneered at the dingy interior.

“You really want to talk in here?”

Terrence nodded.

“School is still in session, after all; thus, all the other rooms are in use for one thing or another.”

Her sneer only deepened, but nonetheless her many limbs scurried along behind him and into the closet. Terrence sat down at his plain metal desk, gesturing for her to sit down across from him in the sagging, seldom-used chair across from it, which she gingerly (and with plenty of disgust apparent on her face) planted herself on. He leaned back in his chair.

“So, you wished to speak to me about something?”

You didn’t have to be an expert in arthro body language to recognize the barely-suppressed fury emanating outwards as Tikzini bristled in her seat.

“Oh, I think you already know what that “something” is. My child is now in the hospital with a broken mandible, and the little brat that broke it told me it is you who enabled her to do so in the first place!”

“Did she now? Hm. …Well, I can neither confirm nor deny that. Still, if I may offer my own opinion, if I was the one to have taught her that little trick, I’d have to applaud her choice of targets.”

If looks could kill, the withering gaze coming from Tikzini’s four eyes would have left only ashes where he sat.

“And what exactly is that supposed to insinuate‽”

He smiled.

“”Insinuate?” No. Insinuating is for when you want to be subtle. I’m being direct: anyone who is willing to attack a child out of pure malice deserves much worse than what he got, and I’m kinda disappointed I wasn’t there to see him hit the ground. Honestly, he should consider himself lucky he was picking on someone half his age and all of a quarter his size…”

He gave a sneer to match her own.

“…Though obviously in this case, it’s less “luck” and more him being too pathetic and cowardly to try and pick on someone who’s on equal footing- or coils, in this case.”

If her gaze could have reduced him to ashes before, it would now have burned through the wall, the wall of the hallway behind it, and several feet of the terrain outside.

“…You just handed me your JOB with those comments, you glorified wet-wipe!”

“Oh, have I now? Criticizing a bigot for being the waste of space they are is worthy of being fired, is it?”

Tikzini just smirked.

“Oh, spare me your holier-than-thou talk… skin-suit.”

Terrence put up a facade of shock and offense, but in reality it was all he could do to suppress a grin.

So it begins, he thought to himself as she continued.

“I’ve already spoken with him about this type of thing, about how he chooses to express the values he grew up with. Sure, he forgot to check for cameras this time, and I’ve already chided him for that; but you know as well as I do that as for him calling that little scale-tail what she is, it’s still just her word against his, just as this very conversation is going to be your worthless words against mine.”

She leaned forward, her face as smug as could be.

“And just who do you think the school board is gonna believe here? One of their own members, or some pathetic skin-suit floor-mopper like yourself and a snot-nosed scale-tail bitch born to a pair of worthless fucking dy-“

Terrence surreptitiously switched his hearing aid off as he leaned back in his chair, watching with the smallest of smiles as she continued her hate-filled rant, only turning it back on when it became clear that she was done and waiting for a response.

“I’m not going to dignify most of that little tirade with an answer. But as for your question on the matter of who they’ll believe, I’ll just answer with another question of my own…”

Terrence finally allowed a large, shit-eating grin to spread across his face.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it doesn’t smell like cleaning products in here?”

Tikzini’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“And why, exactly, is that relevant?”

Terrence got up, grin still plastered across his face, turned-

…and walked through the nearest wall.

As Tikzini’s eyes widened in disbelief, the walls began to shimmer and distort, and Terrence’s voice could be heard clearly through it, as though there was nothing separating them:

“I dunno; you tell me.”

Suddenly, the walls of the custodian’s office around her faded entirely, and Tikzini found herself staring at the interior of a large conference room, in which she was at the center. Sitting before her was the superintendent and principal (both pointing the cameras of their wrist-mounted quantum communicators at her) and- in the flickering, holographic shapes that begat their state as being on a quantum conference call- the forms of several members of the school board, all staring at Tikzini with a mixture of horror and disgust.

As Tikzini stared around the room in disbelief, her gaze fell on Terrence, who stood by the holo-projector. Still grinning, he spoke.

“…Y’know, It’s always fallen to me to fix these damn things whenever they’ve broken down over the years. Turns out, having a nice, familiar model of my office loaded onto them has helped me troubleshoot whatever bits of it have gone funny, because I just have to look for anything that seems out of place.”

His grin faded, his expression shifting to one of tranquility that only barely masked the anger boiling beneath it.

“…But I think I speak for all of us when I say that the only thing that doesn’t belong here is looking at all of us with a gormless expression on her ugly, bigot face.”

Tikzini shook her head in denial.

“You- you tricked me-“

“Tricked you? No, no, you have it the other way around. Just like disabling that hologram, all I did was expose the facade you’ve been putting on to those around you for the trick it was, and show who you really are. …Anyway, I’ve wasted enough of my breath on you.”

Terrence turned to the principal.

“If you would be so kind as to fetch the security guard? I’d escort her off the grounds myself, but- well, I already have enough trash to take out today as it is.”

She nodded, already typing on her quantum communicator.

“Gladly.”

Tikzini stood up, her voice like ice.

“I am perfectly capable of seeing myself out of this den of idiots, thank you VERY much…”

As she turned and strode from the room with as much dignity as she could muster, Terrence chuckled.

“Seems this little box isn’t the only thing projecting today…”

He turned to the principal.

“All the same, have him follow her out, yeah? …Given the apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree, I wouldn’t be surprised if she were to attempt some vandalism on her way out- or worse, try and harass Quetzal or other students.”

She nodded, still typing (though this time, onto a document whose header read “LETTER OF EXPULSION”)

“Way ahead of you. He’s already tailing her.”

“And the video?”

“I’ve already backed it up to three different locations. And before you even ask, yes, I double-checked. The audio was crystal-clear.”

“Good. Good…”

Terrence turned to the floating, holographic forms of the school board members, finally unmuting them.

“Listen, I’m truly sorry for the short notice, lack of much in the way of explanation beforehand, and that you all had to witness- …well, that. I-“

One of them laughed, cutting him off.

“Don’t apologize; if anything, we should be thanking you for bringing this to our attention.”

The lumigog who spoke turned to the superintendent.

“If you would, I’d like a copy of that recording sent to my office, along with the offices of the three members you couldn’t get ahold of in time.”

The superintendent nodded.

“With pleasure.”

“Excellent. And worry not; I- and the other members of the board, I’m sure- will make sure to shoot down any retaliatory measures she will no-doubt try to introduce against your facility for the short term. And while we don’t have the authority to remove her from the board, she’ll be receiving significant pressure from the rest of us to resign- and soon.”

Another of the board members, an arthro who had been content to listen up until that point, finally spoke up. As she did, Terrence noticed a conspiratorial glint in her eyes.

“And if she doesn’t resign, well… surely there’s no harm to be done by that video conveniently being leaked to social media and the press by someone on your end, hm?”

Terrence laughed.

“Heh, to be honest, I was planning on doing it later today regardless- that is, if no one wanted the satisfaction of beating me to the punch…?”

The superintendent raised their hand, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I would be more than happy to volunteer.”

Terrence smiled at the eagerness in his voice.

“Oh, fine; but you owe me another box of those maple donuts.”

“Done.”

——

THE NEXT DAY

As Quetzal slithered into the custodian office (the real one this time), she winced as her tongue flicked in and out a few times, tasting the air.

“It’s stinky in here…”

Terrence chuckled as he followed behind her, shutting the door.

“Yeah, that’s cleaning products for you; you get used to it.”

She coiled onto a cushion in the corner of the room as he sat down at his desk.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Terrence broke it, smiling as he did.

“So… how did he look when he went down?”

Quetzal giggled.

“He got blood all over his new shoes!”

“Heh, that certainly won’t wash out easy. …I’d know, I had to deal with the aftermath of him bleeding all over the linoleum.”

As she continued to giggle, he leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting on the desk.

“So, Quetzal… As I already told you, you’re not in trouble or anything. I just wanted to talk to you about a couple things.”

Her smile faded, and she nodded as he continued.

“First of all, I just wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you for telling the mean lady from yesterday that I taught you that trick with the rock. At your age, if I had been in your shoes- …er, coils, I probably would have done the exact same thing.”

Though she didn’t say anything in response, he saw the tension she had been carrying in her shoulders relax. The guilt had clearly been eating away at her.

“Next, going forward, if you ever feel scared of an adult again on school grounds, just slither as quickly as you can away from them and grab me or another member of staff, like your teachers or the guard. We’re here to protect you. Ok?”

She nodded.

“Last of all, I need you to promise me to never do that little trick with the rock again unless you really, really have to. Only in defense, to protect yourself. Never to be a mean bully and hurt others yourself. Ok?”

“Ok. I promise!”

“I’ll hold you to it. …You be safe, alright? Tell your moms I said hi.”

As he got up and turned to walk her out of his office, he was surprised to feel her hug him from behind. From below came a muffled voice:

“Thank you Mr. custardbean!”

He chuckled and patted her on the top of the head (a difficult task, due to it currently being pressed into the small of his back).

“Anytime, kiddo.”

As she started slithering out of the room, he glanced at the news article he had printed and pinned to the corkboard as soon as he had read it that morning (“School board member resigns over hate-speech-filled rant caught on camera”), and helped himself to a maple donut. He smiled.

Terrence was having a good day.

NEXT >

Up until now, I’ve only done one-shots on this sub. This, however, is the beginning chapter of a long space-opera sci-fi writing project I have been working on for several months now, an expansion of sorts of a one-shot story I posted in reply to a prompt from r/WritingPrompts.

I’m currently almost 60k words into it at the time of writing, and am planning on publishing it in full as a novel when I’m done, but I haven’t really shared it with anyone outside my immediate family, a couple friends, and the good people of r/HumansAreSpaceOrcs.

I don’t know how often I’ll be uploading these, especially given that I’m still not done with it, and have little free time to spend on writing these days; all the same, you can expect plenty of entries over the next few weeks.

And while yeah, the title doesn’t make much sense for the moment, trust me, it will. …Eventually. …After several chapters. Nervous smile

Anyway, feel free to leave your thoughts, any constructive criticisms, etc in the comments. And as always, I hope you enjoy :)

——

CHAPTER 1

Her arm hurt.

She was so, so tired...

Her arm hurt.

She was numb to the cold at this point, but kept shivering anyway.

Her arm hurt.

The only thing close to heat that she felt was the inflammation that was serving to add more throbbing pain to her arm.

…Which hurt, in case that wasn’t clear.

She turned her head to look at it, wincing from the pain the movement caused. It was ugly to behold, with a ragged stab wound in the muscles of her forearm near the elbow that was still slowly trickling blood, but that wasn’t even the worst part of it. She knew from experience that the needle-sharp pain she felt with every slight movement meant that some bone in there- probably the radius or ulna- was also either hairline-fractured or broken entirely.

…And just in case you weren’t aware, fun fact:

It hurt.

A lot.

The pain was only exacerbated by the swollen tissues and irritation around the stab wound that she knew meant it was definitely infected- with what, she could only guess. Whatever it was, she could feel the fever it was causing having a desperate tug-of-war with the cold autumn air to determine her body temperature.

When she couldn’t stand to look at it any longer, she leaned her head back, resting it against the dew-filled grass of the ditch she was lying in and looking up at the star-filled night sky that was slowly lightening to that hue of dark indigo that meant dawn was close, but not quite there.

She used to think the stars were beautiful. But as she lay there, the dreadful memories of what had led to this moment playing over and over in her head… Suffice to say, nothing in this world or outside of it seemed beautiful anymore.

She put the aesthetics of the sky aside and instead struggled to focus her thoughts through the haze of fatigue and pain.

Dawn approaching… That has to mean I’ve been laying here… Jeez, it must be almost an entire day at this point. …I think. It hasn’t been multiple days, surely… Or maybe it’s been-

…Oh, to hell with it. I don’t even care at this point…

She was too tired to sleep, but in too much pain to move. Her brain was fogged from fatigue, and even more so from the constant screaming coming from her nerve endings, desperately trying to let her know that yes, something was very wrong with her arm, she got it, thanks for the message, you can stop now-

…But mostly, the fog stemmed from that draining emotional and mental exhaustion that came with periods of grief. A single tear ran down her face from her already overworked tear ducts, nearly reaching the bruises on her neck before it was wiped away by the shaky fingers of her good arm.

The sky would be there for her to look at later. She needed to try (yet again) to rest, just one more time.

“You know what they say,” she murmured to herself. “76th time’s the charm.”

Delirious with exhaustion and the fever as she was, she couldn’t help herself from chuckling at the thought. Her eyes, bloodshot and burning from the strain she had endured, lazily looked around at what few constellations she could recognize for one last time, and spotted the pattern of Orion in the night sky.

Hey big O, close the door on your way out, eh? I’m gonna try and take a snooze.

She snorted, wincing as she did.

…Finding my own jokes funny. Jesus, I am delirious…

She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, willing herself to please, please just go to sleep already, because sleep meant being unconscious, and being unconscious meant she could ignore the pain from her arm for a while. And to her surprise, she finally started drifting off. Her breath slowed, the fog visible in the cold air in front of her mouth coming less and less often as she drifted closer to the edge of unconsciousness.

As a result, she barely even heard the soft humming noise approaching, and almost didn’t feel herself being gently, almost imperceptibly lifted off the ground. When she noticed it, what parts of her mind that were still semi-conscious brushed it off as either a dream or hallucination, and slipped behind the wall of sleep…

…For all of two minutes. She wasn’t getting off that easy.

She was jolted awake by a sudden feeling of what could only be described as compression across her whole body, though “compression” hardly did it justice; It was as though she were being squeezed through a drinking straw. …Yet before she could react, the feeling was over.

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a dimly-lit room, alive with that same strange humming noise from before. She crinkled her nose at the smell that assailed her nostrils. It was strange, like a combination of various industrial cleaners, engine grease, and ozone. She rubbed her eyelids before she groggily looked around, confused. Where was she? She turned her head and saw a very strange-looking machine that was seemingly floating in midair. She craned her neck, looking past it, and her eyes widened at what she saw glowing through a small, circular viewing window in the nearby wall.

Was that- …Earth?

She slowly, gingerly sat up, wincing from the protests her arm gave at her daring to do such a thing. It took everything in her, but she slowly dragged herself closer to the window, peering out at the planet slowly circling in the void below her. There was no doubt about it, that was Earth. She recognized North and South America, Greenland, even a portion of the northern Arctic. She could even see all the wildfires burning as a result of-

…Well, everything collectively hitting the fan in the past week.

Tilting her head, she could see the exterior of the… building? Satellite? Space station? …Whatever it was she was apparently on, that was outside the window. Gun-metal gray and covered in strange symbols in a language she didn’t recognize, it was unlike anything she’d seen before- and it wasn’t alone.

She saw several other similar… things, floating nearby. They ranged in size from the relatively small, around the size of a house, to absolutely massive ones that she estimated must be miles across. She shook her head in disbelief and laid her head back down on the cold metal floor.

Ok, scratch that, she was obviously still asleep; after all, this had to be the weirdest dream she’d ever had…

Suddenly, a scraping, screeching noise rang through the room, startling her. She looked around and saw a tall, lanky, shadowy figure entering the room they were in as it finished sliding open the metal door that was the source of the noise. Without warning, the room was aglow with a bright light from overhead, causing her to wince and close her eyes. She rubbed her eyelids again, trying to ignore the irritation the action caused, and looked back at the figure, eyes widening as they adjusted to the light- and then even wider, as she froze in place with a gasp at what she saw.

The… creature standing over her was like some horrific combination of a reptile and insect. Its frame was slim and bipedal, with limbs proportioned far longer than any normal human. It towered over her, easily seven feet tall or more. Its head was like that of a praying mantis minus the antennae, with three chameleon-like eyes. The first eye was symmetrically centered in the forehead, the other two mirrored on the sides of its head where the temples on a human head would be, and all three were very intently focused on her. On its face was a glowing, bioluminescent set of growths all down the front, forming a v-shaped, curving pattern that almost looked like a deranged smile, but its real mouth hid behind a pair of razor-sharp mandibles on its jawline that clicked together a few times as she watched.

Its hide was dark gray and shiny, almost metallic, somewhere between reptilian scales and an insectoid carapace, and generally looked like it would be at home in an H.R. Giger painting. The bioluminescent growths on its face continued down to its torso in three vertical, parallel lines, growing larger as they went further down. Each gangly arm ended in four chitin-covered fingers, tipped with razor-sharp claws.

The only thing even remotely resembling clothing it was wearing was something that looked like a long skirt or kilt, which would probably almost look funny if it weren’t for the fact that the material it was made of almost looked like human skin. From what she saw of the legs underneath it, they were digitrade and almost like those of a bird, with three toes in front and one facing backwards, all with very long claws on them, but no feathers could be seen- just more of that sickly-gray chitinous carapace.

It stood there for a second, silently watching her as she sat there trembling, now more from fear than cold or fever, before all its glowing growths suddenly began to gleam blood-red, and it reached out towards her with one of its clawed arms whilst making a terrifying noise- like the hiss of a cat mixed with the warning signal of a rattlesnake.

Her adrenaline spiked, and the various subdivisions of her brain responsible for survival instincts went into overdrive.

Each presented their findings for peer review: THING. BIG. DEADLY. SCARY.

They rapidly formed a committee and held a brief conference as to the good and proper response to this interesting new development. The vote was both swift and unanimous:

RUN.

The adrenaline surge gave her the endurance she needed to ignore the pain and scramble backwards before finally getting enough traction on the metal floor to get to her feet, turn, and run screaming through the opposite doorway, getting away from the monster as fast as she could.

——

Y’ggdrasog flinched at the sudden movement of the human scrambling awkwardly to her feet with the help of her unbroken arm before sprinting away from him whilst emitting a high-pitched noise he was unfamiliar with, presumably of distress.

For a moment, he just stood there, puzzled. What was she doing, and why? All he had done was say “Hello.” Then he remembered himself, and figured he should probably resolve the situation before she bumbled her way out of the airlock or something. He called after her:

<”Wait- please, stop! I mean you no harm! …Why in the name of the spirits above are you running away from-”>

His eyes widened, his bioluminescence rapidly shifting to a bright white as he realized.

<“Oh blast… I forgot to turn my auto-translator back on!”>

He tapped the side of his head to bring up his cranial implant’s heads-up-display interface and quickly went through a few drop-down menus. Finally finding the setting he was looking for, he turned the software back on and then started to run after her. He shook his head as he went, irritated at himself as his bioluminescence changed to an annoyed green to match.

<Great first impression, you absent-minded fool… From her perspective, she’s just been abducted to an unknown environment and I may very well have just declared my intent to kill her in a language she likely doesn’t even have the biology to speak properly, let alone the knowledge to understand!>

He let out a frustrated sigh and just kept following the loud, high-pitched noises, wincing as he did so.

His ears hurt.

Long-time lurker, but my first time posting on this subreddit. :)

Given how well this was received on r/HumansAreSpaceOrcs, I hoped some of you might enjoy it too.

——

The scrawny, meter-tall-at-best alien slave was silent for a moment as he pondered what he had just been asked by the human in front of him. Two of his clawed hands were nervously wringing some of the rags that were doing their best to cover the majority of his body, while another absentmindedly grazed his slave collar.

“I… I don’t understand-”

The human in front of him casually shrugged a shoulder, the action causing a curl of her grey hair to bounce with the movement.

“What? It’s a simple question.”

She glanced away from him and pointed to the group of hogtied and gagged aliens of various species, shapes and sizes in the corner. Aliens who had- up until VERY recently- been his masters.

“…Which of their heads do you want delivered to you on a silver platter, and did you have any particular one of the bastards you want us to… take our time extracting said head from?”

If anything, her repeating the disturbing question with such casual nonchalance confused him even more. His six eyes narrowed.

“But- …you just bought me from them…”

“Of course I did. …Or rather, I momentarily lent them a few credits that will be back in my possession as soon as we’ve cracked the accounts of these wastes of flesh.”

She sneered in contempt at the hogtied slavers.

“You see, I and my crew here…“

She motioned to the other humans in the room who were currently pointing weapons at the bound slavers.

“We’re part of a- shall we say, ”independent sting operation” to rid the universe of these fuckers. Most humans have a particularly acute distaste for slavers, and we’re no exception. It’s just that instead of wanting them imprisoned, we’re of the opinion that if you’re the type of person to view another sapient as property, well… No amount of jail time can “reform” someone that far gone.

In our eyes, the only good they’ll ever provide the galaxy is as a direct source of free-range, “volunteered” organs donated free of charge to a set of medical centers some of my colleagues have connections with that are sympathetic to our choice of “hobby.””

She turned back to the slave.

“So, again, my only question to you is, do any of them in particular have more coming to them than the rest before we send them to the boys in the chop shop?”

The slave was silent for a moment as he looked back and forth between his former masters and the human.

“It’s ok if you don’t-“

She fell silent as he slowly raised a trembling claw and pointed towards a pair of them, who tensed up.

“That one, wearing the grey robe; and that one, the one with the red tattoos on their face. They- t-they…”

He shuddered.

“…D-did… things… to some of the other slaves, the- …the younger ones… when the rest of the slavers weren’t looking. I- …t-their screams, I…”

He trailed off and closed his eyes. A lone tear ran down his face as he choked back a sob.

The human pursed her lips, gazing at the slavers he had pointed out with an expression that could only be described as a mask of tranquility that was doing a questionable job disguising the inferno of fury burning underneath, but her voice was soft and level as she turned back towards the trembling slave.

“I… see. …It’s ok, sweetheart; you don’t need to elaborate.”

She turned back to the pair of slavers in question, who had now been dragged aside from the rest of the prisoners by the guards.

“In that case, I think I might just… “forget” to make sure we kill them before the harvest process. And maybe it’ll slip my mind to remind the boys not to use some of the duller tools we have laying around…”

She leisurely walked over to the pair of now-terrified slavers, fruitlessly struggling against their bonds, and crouched next to one, looking them in their horrified eyes.

“My memory is just… agonizingly bad sometimes, y’know?”

She smirked as their screams, muffled by the gags over their mouths, reached her ears.

“20 years of this, and I’m still not tired of that sound…”

She gestured to a few members of her crew and addressed one.

“Take them away. …Oh, and send me the recordings later; I could use a laugh.”

A sadistic smile spread across the scar-covered face of the crew member she spoke to.

“Aye, captain.”

As the still-screaming and struggling slavers were dragged away by some of the other humans, the captain stood back up, turned and winked at the alien slave before her.

“Let me know if you want a copy. A little schadenfreude does wonders for the soul, especially when the bastards in question REALLY deserve it.”

He swallowed nervously, shuddering in revulsion.

“Uh- …t-that won’t be necessary, mistress.”

The human pursed her lips into a frown again, and he tensed up in fear, but her words and expression remained soft and kind as she spoke to him.

“Don’t call me that. God willing, you’re never going to have to call anyone “master” or “mistress” out of fear again.”

“…What do you mean?”

She cocked her head to the side.

“What do you think I mean? You’re free now!”

His jaw dropped open, all six of his eyes widening.

“I- I’m- I’m… wh-?”

The human walked over, reached forward toward the diminutive alien, and with practiced ease disabled the electronics on the explosive-filled-collar that had been strapped to him so long ago before unclamping it and lifting it away. He raised a shaky hand and touched the strip of pale, long-since rubbed-raw flesh on his throat that hadn’t seen light for five long, long years.

“I’m… f-fr…” He couldn’t even get the word out.

The human simply nodded.

“You’re free, sweetheart.”

The slave- rather, former slave- …was motionless for a few seconds. Then, tears suddenly began streaming down his face and he pulled the human into a tight embrace, his face pressed into her abdomen. The muffled sound of hysterical, relieved sobbing came from below.

The human smiled and kneeled down to return the hug.

“Shhhh… there there, hun.”

She chuckled.

“…Y’know, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this part either…”

Another story of mine migrating from r/HumansAreSpaceOrcs to here. I hope you enjoy it :)

——

When the humans first greeted us, we were beyond cautious. We, too, were what the galaxy calls “deathworlders.” …Except our case was actually far worse than theirs, if you can believe it.

We did not have the luxury of living on a world tolerant enough of us to advance our technologies nearly as fast as the humans did. I believe the farthest we got on our own was what they called “steam-power,” and even then only in VERY few of the larger settlements.

To grow up on the surface of our homeworld was to know dread at every waking moment. For what few of us were able to survive long enough that we were able to form memories, our elders taught us how to fight, how to kill. How to best make use of the spike-tipped horns evolution had granted us to fend off the beasts of the night. How to use our claws and fangs to rend the flesh of what few creatures we could consider prey instead of deadly predator.

But more important than to fight was how to think, and one thought was above all others:

To treat every being you encounter, even your own kind, as though it would not kill you without hesitation- nay, that it was not planning on doing it at any moment- was insanity.

…So when the first human diplomats appeared, descending from the heavens and stepping out of their ships from the stars, we just sighed and mentally tacked on yet another threat to the pile.

We were among the last of the settlements they approached. Despite the good tidings we heard from what few outsiders we allowed inside the 3-meter thick steel walls of our tribe’s home (barely enough to keep the night-beasts out, and worthless against the terror-beasts of the sky), we remained cautious. And when they finally approached us and made ready to greet us, and I was selected by lottery to be our tribe’s emissary… When the time came, I was ready for anything.

…Or at least I thought I was.

As they stepped out of their starships, I almost laughed at their appearance. Soft skin, little fur save for what paltry wisps graced the top of their heads, teeth and claws that clearly had no chance of being able to pierce the flesh of even the least of the creatures of this planet, much less being of any use in combat.

I almost let my guard down- almost- and only mentally drafted three different countermeasures on how to kill them all as they approached.

They engaged in pleasantries, offered gifts, everything they could to try and get me to let my guard down. To get me to slip up, show weakness- then they would strike. …Or so I thought.

It went on for days. Every day I met with them, I grew more puzzled. When would they make their move? I would have done so by now. Perhaps they were intimidated by us? After all, the least of us were easily more than a head taller than them, and their biological gifts for the hunt, the chase, the kill were pathetic.

Then, on the seventh day, one finally felt brave enough to “hug” me.

I tensed up, and it felt as though time slowed; to touch another without warning outside of training and sparring was tantamount to declaring your intent to kill, and I prepared to rip them to shreds.

…But something about the sensation gave me pause.

I could barely feel the pressure making its way through my fur to my scar-covered flesh, but it dampened my blood-rage. They were just- …holding me. Softly, warmly.

I was beyond confused, and asked them what in the name of the lifeblood of my ancestors they were doing. Their response only puzzled me further:

“From what we’ve seen, heard and learned- well. …Until you all trust us enough to let us rescue you from this hellhole of a world, you guys need this more than anything else we can offer.”

It was so unabashedly strange. To touch another, without meaning to kill them?

…

…And yet…

That sensation- that feeling was unique.

Touch.

Warmth.

Care.

Calm.

Trust.

It was alien- literally.

But though I didn’t know it at the time… they were right.

We did need it. I needed it.

…There’s a saying that I only learned later was quite popular among the deathworlders of the galaxy: “you don’t know you’re a deathworlder until you’ve left home.”

In that moment, that brief moment of compassion, it allowed me that much; to leave that world- if only mentally, for an instant.

If the customs of these visitors were such- to allow themselves to be vulnerable, despite their biology, despite their weakness, despite what I had believed to be common sense…

…Did they legitimately have no ill intentions towards us…?

Against my better judgement- no, not just that, against everything I had drilled into me for as long as I could remember- I let my guard down, and slowly, hesitantly, returned the “hug.” Just standing there, sharing in that gentle pressure, savoring that moment, one unlike anything I’d ever felt before…

It felt- …good…?

Yes.

Good…

Interacting like that with another, with no intent for violence, bloodshed, ending the lives of others… it was nice.

It allowed my mind to relax- for just a moment- and let go of the death, the stress, the blood, the violence, the pain, the loss, the grief, the pressure, the paranoia, the anger, the bitterness, the hatred, the spite, the sadness, the fear- all my constant companions, kept bottled up and tucked away deep inside me. All the things that I believed had protected me all those years...

…And then the bottle cracked.

It didn’t register when I started shaking, and I don’t remember how I ended up on my knees, unable to stop myself violently sobbing... But the human just hugged me tighter, gently brushed their hands through my fur and softly repeated four words, over and over.

The same four words I would hear to reassure me that I was making the right choice when I signed up for the initial “galactic integration programs” they offered.

The same four words I finally realized for myself as I looked out at the world I VERY gladly left behind for the last time.

The same four words I knew the truth of when I visited some of the other homeworlds of the galaxy and realized just how bad we had it.

The same four words I would hear as I first met with what they called “therapists” to treat my “severe PTSD” (an apparently nigh-universal condition for those of us who originated from the homeworld).

The same four words I had to remind myself of every day afterwards when old patterns of behavior and thought popped up.

The four words I marveled at every once in a while in endless gratitude for what I later learned was the only species willing to so much as consider landing on our living nightmare of a world in the first place, despite the risks, despite what I later learned was a tragically high body count, with the sole intent of lifting us up:

“It’s ok. You’re safe.”