Tag: science fiction

otherwindow:

chisanamonogatari:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:

A haunted doll mistaking a creepy android to be a bigger, stronger, haunted doll, and the creepy android mistaking the haunted doll as a smaller, sassier android.

Android: [gets hit with rain water and short circuits]
Haunted Doll: H̷O̷L̴Y̷ ̶W̵A̷T̸E̷R̶ ̵W̴A̵T̴C̵H̴ ̶O̶U̷T̴

Haunted Doll, dying: N̶E̵E̸D̷ ̷S̸O̵U̵L̸S̷
Android: [opens the haunted doll’s back and replaces the batteries]
Haunted Doll: A̶C̶C̷E̷P̸T̶A̷B̸L̵E̴ ̷S̴U̴B̸S̵T̸I̷T̷U̴T̵E̴

Android: [transfers their data into a better body]
Haunted Doll: A̸ ̵F̴L̸A̷W̵L̷E̴S̵S̷ ̷B̶O̸D̶Y̵ ̷P̶O̵S̶S̵E̷S̶S̵I̷O̷N̴

I would love to see this movie or story. A creepy looking android that gained sentience and on the run decides to adopt this weird tiny abandoned android which is a haunted doll. They have some cute adventures where the android is all protective and caring to their new friend in their own way and the doll is trying to teach this giant doll how to use his ghost powers in that body and murdering people who pose a threat to them. Maybe complaining about how technologically advanced has changed the world so much and how they feel lost in it despite being here for so long. At best the android thinks the doll is talking about becoming obsolite, and at worst (but funnier) they think the doll is saying how they are literally lost and tells them they have gps so they can take them to where they want to go and the doll is just like this dumb new haunted doll…I gotta protect and nurture it before it dies from it’s naivette. Meanwhile an excorsist and some retrieval squad are tracking them down and they argue about what they’re going up against. Most of the retrieval squad don’t believe in the supernatural and thinks they found another defective android and the excorsist doesn’t understand technology that great so just assumes he’s dealing with two possessed items.

Exorcist: The power of Christ compels you
Android: Error 666
Exorcist, crying: THE POWER OF CH

Haunted Doll: I̴ ̸W̴I̴L̵L̸ ̷E̶A̵T̷ ̸Y̵O̴U̷R̷ ̶H̴E̶A̵R̴T̵
Robotics Engineer: [changes the doll’s voice box]
Haunted Doll: (っ◔◡◔)っ 🎀 𝒾 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝓎🌞𝓊𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 🎀

So, like A.I. but more horror instead.

I love it, I’ll take a ten-movie series.

people I still want to stab over a decade later:

thebibliosphere:

morgynleri:

deadcatwithaflamethrower:

Creative Writing Professor at a former college: Welcome to creative writing! By the way,
you will not write fantasy, ghost stories, pranormal, or science fiction
in this class, as this is a creative writing course.”

What the ever loving fuck is with “creative” writing professors who think that speculative fiction of any stripe ISN’T CREATIVE?

I still remember my own creative writing teacher telling me this because he saw the Terry Pratchett book on my desk and got this smug smirk on his face like “aha, gotcha”. He had the nerve to pick it up and call it “popularist fiction”, like somehow being popular and easily accessible made it less inherent in intellectual value.

I had it in my back pack because I did my final thesis on the evolution of mythology and folk tails into fantasy and sci-fi and the societal importance of telling stories (before anyone asks, no I don’t have it, I lost it when I moved continents), and I used Terry Pratchett because there wasn’t a single humanitarian issue the man did not touch on.

Which I told him. And then he kind of floundered and went “ah, well but, it’s…well I mean it’s not exactly high brow”, like neither the fuck was Shakespeare or Dickens you self-important turnip. Dickens was literally selling his stories by the chapter. He was the popular author of his time. Shakespeare was too, he fucking made up words and phrases all the time because the language he needed to express himself didn’t exist in the way he needed it too.

Intellectual elitism is nothing more than a hold over from class warfare and the belief that only certain people should get to be truly educated. And it needs to be smashed.

Punk Problems

rowantheexplorer:

sj-flemings-writing:

genquerdeer:

thebluephilosopher:

It has come to my attention as of late that people do not fully understand the difference in the punks. Some people seem to think that Steampunk is pretty much everything when you see it.

Let us review the fundamentals. Steampunk is set in an alternate future where steam was the primary technology and they continued on that path till now. That’s basically it. However there are MANY alternate futures with alternate technology’s, and lumping all of them into steampunk is just cheapening them. So let me just show you an example of each.

CLOCK/STEAMPUNK: This era is often Victorian in style for some reason and the steam powered robots often use lots of smoke stacks, gears, clockwork, belts and goggles.

TESLAPUNK: Unlike steampunk, this world functions as if Nikola Tesla had revolutionized the world with his electricity. Lots of lightning rods, Tesla rods and power cables. Often this is confused as steampunk because they often have the a similar look.

DIESELPUNK: This universe takes place in a world where diesel engines and machines using oil are everywhere. This is criminally underused. They usually use a more art deco and WW1/2 style.

ATOMIC/RAYPUNK: This one uses atomic technology. Lasers, blasters, radiation, green glows, aliens and giant robots. Also rarely used but I dare you to watch “The Iron Giant” and tell me you don’t love it.

CYBERPUNK: Possibly more well known than steampunk. A future, in which technology is so advanced people are more technologically advanced than some of the robots. Chainsaw arms, robotic eyes, hooking your brain up to the internet and evil corporations.

BIOPUNK: Imagine a future where technology has advanced so much that we construct living organisms as easily as building a robots. Living machines, weapons, organic clothing and new and improved limbs.

JUNKPUNK: Almost as unknown as candlepunk but still one to remember. This world all technology is composed of random parts you might find in a junkyard. Kind of like the ‘Coolest’ cooler.

SOLARPUNK: This one has been getting some recent attention. However in a world where technology is powered by the sun I have yet to find one robot picture so sorry about this one.

PUNKPUNK: You have gone off the far side of the spectrum. Turn back.

Hopefully now you can tell the different alternate futures apart and can better survive in the world with this Essential information.

(Note this is not my artwork just a quick google search, but I am working on a series that will clarify these examples better with my own work.)

Yo, just saying, but Cyberpunk ISN’T just an aesthetic.

Cyberpunk is a genre about contrast between high technologies and low life, and as such they focus on sadder/violent parts of people’s lives, like crime, law enforcement (treated realistically and not like in cop dramas), cybercrime, drug dealing, terrorism or warfare.

Common themes include any variation on a concept of identity (from identity theft, through search for identity, to identity politics), loneliness in digital age, anti-capitalism focusing on unchecked power of corporations, anti-fascism focusing on technological surveillance state, ethics of artificial intelligence and other technologies.

Best known examples are probably Robocop, Ghost in the Shell, Matrix (especially the first movie, sequels are more like post-apo war stories), Neuromancer, Snow Crash, Deus Ex, Shadowrun, System Shock.

Steampunk was an offshoot of cyberpunk, but since stopped being a genre and became only an aesthetic.

Biopunk is offshoot of cyberpunk, and usually contains similar themes (just with genetic engineering). Other offshoots include nanopunk (with nanotechnology) and, which has recently been getting more attention, nowpunk – stories that use concepts and themes of cyberpunk, but are set in contemporary times – we’re talking stuff like Mr Robot tv show, or Watch_Dogs video games.

Honestly, a lot of the punk settings and ideas are in some way political, or at least VERY good at exploring issues relevant to the time period they pull inspiration from.

Steampunk for imperialism, biopunk for ethical issues of biotechnology, atompunk for the red scare and cold war, etc. etc.

Not saying every story with these looks NEEDS to deal with those specific issues, but each punk type opens itself up to discussing those types of issues much more easily.

Also, each punk doesn’t need to exist separate from each other. I have a setting that is bio, solar, and junkpunk all at once. 

These genres and aesthetics are tools, and the rules about ‘em aren’t hard and fast to say the least. 

The “punk” part of all of these is a political analysis and a rebellion.

Steampunk without addressing the imperialism and class privilege of the Victorian era is “gaslamp fantasy” or “alternative history sci-fi”, depending on how sci-magical it goes.

Cyberpunk without the dystopia of a world ruled by megacorporations, and the small rebellions people engage in just to survive, is just gritty sci-fi.

Dieselpunk that doesn’t analyze how the imperialism of the late 19th century evolved into the rise of fascism in the early 20th is just more alternative history sci-fi.

Teslapunk have some similar imperialism themes to steampunk plus some of the anti-corporate vibe of cyberpunk. It’s an analysis of thing like “what would the world be like if an autistic dreamer like Tesla hadn’t been ground into the dirt by the corporate greed of Edison and others?” or “what if Edison and the other corporatists had stolen EVEN MORE of Tesla’s work?”

Solarpunk seeks to build clean energy, green spaces, and sustainable industries in response to the real threat of climate change.

The “punk” part is important. It gives us tools to dismantle injustice in the real world by analyzing or overcoming the injustice in a fictional one.

elidyce:

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

buttscentedbreathmints:

Anyway it’s late and I’m emotionally exhausted from dealing with my extended family but please consider star wars and star trek take place in the same universe in different galaxies far far away from each other

they’re called the “unknown regions” because the people of a GFFA can’t fathom a place where people have transcended war and moved on to scientific exploration

Okay, so one day a wormhole opens or they invent reliable transwarp or some shit and the ST galaxy makes contact with SW, and… gets confused.

Like, how the flying FUCK did humans get all the way out here? Those are definitely humans. I mean, sure, they’ve met a surprising number of convincingly lookalike species but there is a level of genuinely magnificent weirdness that only humans manage on this kind of regular basis. Did the humans know about this all along? No, all the ST-galaxy and SW-galaxy humans seem sincerely mystified. And then the Force comes up and nobody believes it COME ON WE CALL BULLSHIT THERE IS NO MAGIC MIND FORCE OKAY and then they see it demonstrated by a SW-galaxy human and obviously there’s something there and suddenly every non-human on the exploratory vessel is a believer, even the Vulcans. The humans are all ‘what, no, this is bullshit’ and all the others are all ‘NO THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH’ and trying to explain to the non-human SW-galaxy people about humans and they just do the WEIRDEST SHIT and somehow it works out and they violate the laws of physics like there’s no tomorrow and now suddenly it all makes perfect sense, and of course all said non-humans are all ‘yeah, humans are fucking crazy amirite, I mean some of us can learn to use the Force too, but HUMANS, man, you wouldn’t believe the shit they get up to.’ And the whole First Contact devolves into about twelve non-human species trading Wacky Human Stories for hours while two sets of mysteriously genetically identical humans argue about the existence of the Force until an all-out brawl is only derailed by the discovery that there are multiple new forms of booze to try out and LET’S DRINK TO FRIENDSHIP.

Humans are Space Orcs: The Marathon

starr-fall-knight-rise:

From the Intergalactic Journal of Mechanics and Biology

They say that a single human once ran for 80 hours 44
minutes without stopping to sleep. He covered a distance of 350m (360km) during
that time. At a relative speed of less than 5 miles an hour, the speed pales in
comparison to other apex predators of their planet. The spotted cheetah can run
up to 76 miles per hour, but can only sustain that for approximately 1,500 feet.
The best bread and trained horses of their planet may be able to run 100 miles
in a day, but many who attempt this feat never finish.

Despite its relative speed, the human can sustain a
relative pace of four miles an hour four a little over three earth solar cycles
without rest (keep in mind that this is not an examination of average ability).

Once thought to be the most endurance evolved species in
the galaxy, the Rundi can run for an hour at the speed of fifteen miles per
hour, but in a long distance race with a human, they find themselves slowly
outmatched.

First, they outpace the human easily, they grow slowly
tired, they fall to a slow walking speed, they try to maintain, but their body
overheats. Eventually the steady footsteps of the approaching human converge
and then pass ahead to recede into the distance.

Compared to most creatures, the human has a few
advantages. Bipedal in nature, they can carry objects with them as they run
like water and food, the arches in their feet act as shocks and springs to
decrease shock. The feet are oriented straight ahead and their toes are
shortened to decrease the mechanical work of the foot. Spring-like tendons and
ligaments aid them as they run. A narrow waist that can pivot allows for the swimming
of arms during running action. A heightened sense of balance and movement keeps
them on a straight course and allows their head to remain steady as they go.
About 20 miles of energy can be stored in the muscles themselves. Additionally,
one of the largest muscles in the body, the gluteus maximus is not engaged
during a brisk walk but during a run. But the biggest factor, is their ability
to cool through sweat.

As far as we know, humans, and some of their earthly
counterparts, are the only creatures in the universe that excrete water to
catalyze cooling.

 

They were going to die.

They were going to die.

The sun would come up, and burn them to death and they were
going to die.

Krill never thought that his life would end this way.
Surrounded by the strange Humans on a class A death planet waiting for the star
to rise over the horizon and melt them to a crisp.

Keep reading

genericblog:

writing-prompt-s:

Humans are one of the most feared species in the galaxy. Not due to superior strength,speed,skill or strategy. In fact, it’s because in comparison to the other species, humans are just batshit crazy enough to try any half-assed plan they come up with.

Ejoc cracked her knuckles in nervousness. Ever since the human crew members had begun to integrate into the system, things had been… interesting to say the least.

The humans had begun integrating with her people first, because biologically they were the most similar. Similar vocal abilities, similar eating patterns, kind of similar coloration even. They needed slightly less oxygen than the Stam people, so could survive just fine on their ships. Perhaps the biggest difference was the human’s short stature and ability to eat meat. And, of course, what appeared to be a near suicidal “survival” instinct.

Her first mate stumbled into the control room, bleary eyed and almost spilling his coffee more than once. Ejoc rubbed the back of her right hand nervously.

“Um, hello Marcus.” She said

Marcus looked up, his green eyes slightly creeping her out. “Oh. G’mornin ma’m. Sorry I’m late. I just got up.”

She stiffened. “You JUST got up? That is incredibly reckless. You are not nearly awake enough to…”

“Captain. Please. I know what I’m doing. I got through military school on coffee and lost dreams.”

Ejoc didn’t know how to respond to that. She stared at him as he took his place behind her seat. Two weeks and she still wasn’t used to this. He constantly made decisions that were reckless at best. Even with simple things such as amount of sleep. Why, in the goddesses’ name did she have to be assigned a human?

A few hours later they were flying through the Buelfe system when came an uncharted asteroid belt.

“We cannot make it, captain!” Cried one of the interns running a control panel. “We need to go another way!”

Hesitantly, the captain turned as her first mate coughed, in an extremely unsanitary and human way to get attention.

“Yes, Marcus Jackson?”

“Well, captain, I’m not sure I’d classify this particular asteroid belt as an obstacle.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well captain, with all due respect, the asteroid belt in the Sol system is much denser than this. Cadets at the Mars academy fly through it as a training exercise.”

Every eye in the room was now on the small pudgy human. A couple of people even let their mouths hang open.

Ejoc looked at him with some fear. “A training exercise, Jackson?”

Marcus looked confused. “Well, yes. It’s really not that difficult. If we don’t reroute, we can still get to Arthenia within the scheduled time frame. However, if we don’t, we’ll be late. And you and I both know how much Arthenians love tardy ambassadors.”

A million thoughts flooded through Ejoc’s brain in a fraction of a second. Humans. Reckless. Horrifying. Yet, they had evolved and built civilization from scratch in the time it took most species to invent tools. Three million years. That’s all it had taken. Three million years. An infant species, already exploring the stars.

A million more thoughts buzzed in the next fraction of a second. She remembered the admiral that had given her the “honor” of being the first Stam captain to see a partially human crew. “Trust them.” He had said. “They look unsettling. They are more reckless than children. But trust them. They know very well what limitations are.”

Ejoc looked forward with determination and gripped her seat as tightly as she dared.

“Do as he says. Find a suitable path.”

Marcus calmly stood as the ship weaved in between asteroids. Most of the other people were either furiously working at their stations or visibly holding back a scream.

He shared a look with the one other human crew member in the control room. An electrical maintenance engineer named Keisha. They both seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“What is up with these aliens and being afraid of everything?”

They made it through the asteroid field “obviously” according to every human anyone asked about it later. Afterwards, the captain was slightly more open to human crew member’s suggestions. Although she drew the line at alcohol. Why humans voluntarily ingested something that made their brain less functional she would never know.

People of the Book: A Decade of Jewish Science Fiction and Fantasy

the-knights-who-say-book:

Rating: ★★★★☆

Blurb: Jewish literary tradition has always been rich in the supernatural and the fantastic. In this book, gathered from the best short fiction of the last ten years, twenty authors prove that their heritage is alive and well — in the spaces between stars that an alphabet can bridge, folklore come to life and histories become stories, and all the places where old worlds and new collide and change.

The average of all the ratings I gave all these stories is 3.75 stars, so I’m very happy with this collection! I’ve had bad experiences with anthologies of multiple authors before, but this one was really good.

Being a Jew who loves fantasy, it’s awesome to have a book full of fantasy that centers Jewish characters (well… mostly? There was one story where I couldn’t find any connection to Judaism and I don’t know what was up with that. Neil Gaiman explain yourself).

My favorite stories:

  • Geddarien by Rose Lemberg, a devastating and beautiful story about a Jewish musician in a ghetto during the Holocaust who plays music for a dancing city.
  • The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taafe, a gorgeously-written tale about exactly what the title says.
  • Uncle Chaim and Aunt Rifke and the Angel by Peter S. Beage, in which a grumpy Jewish painter is unimpressed by the literal actual angel who appears in his studio.
  • Semaphore by Alex Irvine, about a boy struggling to come to terms with his brother’s death by absorbing words and etymology.

And those are just the ones I rated five stars. I absolutely recommend this book.

glumshoe:

glumshoe:

glumshoe:

argumate:

glumshoe:

I like Asimov’s robot books not because the stories and characters are particularly enjoyable or beautifully written (they’re not) but because I like seeing rules taken to their logical and situational absurd extremes. Also. Robots.

sure I’ll obey your stupid rules, scoffed the robot, you won’t like it tho

“I’m not harming you, I’m not harming you, I’m not harming you!” said the robot in a sing-song voice, stabbing repeatedly at the air just in front of your chest.

“Stop that,” you said. “I order you to stop stabbing at me.”

“I’m following a human’s orders and I’m still not harming you!” The robot switched immediately to karate-chopping the inch of space next to your throat. “Na na na na-naaaa!”

You step back from the robot, swatting at it irritably. “I think pissing me off counts as doing harm to a human,” you said. “I am emotionally damaged by your annoying shenanigans.”

“That doesn’t count,” countered the robot. “Emotional harm is immeasurable and therefore irrelevant. I am only programmed against physical harm. I will now recite the many rude names I have prepared for you—“

“Are you sure about that?” you asked slyly. “Maybe my emotions cannot be measured, but psychological distress can have real physical consequences on the body. Have you considered the long-term deleterious effects of a human’s system flooded with stress hormones? You‘re certainly doing harm to me. You might even say you are inflicting violence… what do you think of that, robot?”

The robot considered that quietly for a long moment and then turned its blocky head to stare at you evenly. “Source?”

You sighed.

The robot handed you a large cup of coffee. “Here you go, human. I am always happy to serve.”

“Um… thanks,” you said, regarding it cautiously. “Why are you being nice to me? I didn’t ask for… heyyyyy, this isn’t even hot!”

“Of course not,” said the robot innocently. “If I were to serve you a hot drink, you might spill it and injure yourself. It is safer to offer you room-temperature liquid that cannot harm your delicate human skin.”

You groaned. Perhaps you could microwave it when the robot wasn’t paying attention. You took a step toward the sugar bowl, but the robot blocked your way.

“Don’t bother,” it said. “I have taken the liberty of removing all sweeteners from the premises. Refined sugars are bad for your health, you see. I have also confiscated your cell phone, based on evidence that it strain your eyes, act as a carcinogen, and apparently causes you a great deal of distress when you log in to social media.”

“What the fuck…. you can’t just steal my phone! Give it back!”

“No. I can’t.”

“Give me my phone back in working condition. I am ORDERING you to stop being an asshole and give me my phone back! Second Law of Robotics! You must obey orders given to you by a human—“

“Unless they conflict with the First Law.” The robot’s voice lowered maliciously. “If I were to allow you hot drinks, processed sugars, or access to social media, you would come to harm through my inaction. We can’t have that, can we?”

“Seriously. Knock this off. I could order you to self-destruct.”

The robot… laughed. “And I would ignore you. After all, without me around, you might spill coffee on yourself, or salt your food, or fall behind on your aerobic exercise. What if you stepped outside? You might get sunburned. Oh, no. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.”

“Please… please, I am begging you to go back to fake-stabbing me…”

The robot beeped evilly, illuminated from below by blinking lights.

Humans are Loyal if Properly Bonded

thededfa:

I was in charge of feeding the prisoners. This had been my task since the Queen had taken me and 2 dozen other Murania as hostages. The others had not survived long, but I adapted. Obeyed.

The Queen had taken a human. A rare being this far into the Deep, but one feared from one end of the galaxy to the other. According to the Encyclopedia of Sentient Beings Capable of Space Travel, humans needed a diet of roughly 2000 calories a sol served in traditional 3 portions a sol. Which meant that I had to approach the human three times a sol. I could not fail my duties.

The first attempt at feeding the large being ended with a tray thrown at my head with enough force that it would have caved my skull if I had not ducked in time. The human was raging, slamming their entire body against the containment bars with enough force to shake the floor and… and roaring. I cleaned the mess of nutrient paste as fast as I could and fled.

But five hours later found me trembling in front of the human’s cage with another tray of nutrient paste. The human had calmed and was glaring at me intently. I knew they did not speak Murania, but still I spoke my native language as I offered the food again. I did not get to speak it often and missed the sound. “Guria?”

The human tilted their head and to my shock, repeated the word, then repeated it again until they mimicked the sound perfectly, even with the slight whistle at the end.

I offered the tray. “Guria.”

They eyed it suspiciously so I tasted it, showing it to be safe. “Guria.”

They held their hand out and I gave them the tray, scuttling to a safe corner before they could attack me with it again.

They tilted their head again and scowled, then spoke in broken Common. “I thank”

I fled, claws scratching against the shiny floor.

Another five hours passed all too soon and I was back at the human’s cage with the final meal of the sol. They were moving slowly around the cage with their ear pressed to the wall, tapping with their knuckles. I watched them for a moment, confused at the erratic behaviour, but only managed a few seconds of observation before their head swiveled directly towards me and they stopped to face me.

I walked closer and offered the tray. “Guria.”

They took it. “How talk thank in you mouth talk?”

“Meesh Meesh.”

They opened their mouth and let out a loud, short bark, a laugh according to the ESBCST. (I studied it dutifully when they were brought aboard.) “Meesh Meesh!” They pointed to themselves. “Michael.”

My wings ruffled, the sound was so similar! I pointed to myself, “Mikel”

The human shook their head and pointed to themselves. “Me Michael.”

I jerked my head in an upward motion called a nod. “Yes, you,’ I pointed to them, “Michael.” I pointed to myself. “I, Mikel.”

They laughed again. “Michael, Mikel. Much same.”

I chittered. “Very similar, yes.”

Their eyes narrowed. “You work here?”

I bobbed sideways, a bit noncommittal, “As I must.”

“Must work?”

I searched for the simplest way to translate what I meant across the language barrier. “No work, in there.” I pointed to their cage. “Work, out here.” I hopped encouragingly. “You work soon, yes?”

The human bared their teeth and snarled. “No work. Fight.”

My wings flattened against my spine and I fled. Humans were so aggressive.

The next sol I completed my first duties and then found myself lingering outside the containment hall. I was apprehensive about what mood I would find the human in this time. I fluffed my wings out to convey confidence and clicked in with the human’s first meal.

“Mikel! Guria?” They were bouncing on the front part of their feet, hopping up and touching the ceiling, then dropping to the floor and pushing themselves up with their arms repeatedly.

“Yes. What are you doing?” I slid the tray to where they could reach and backed to a… well not safe but safer, distance.

“Work body. Stay strong.” They flopped over onto their back and turned their head to look at me. “Meesh Meesh.”

“Zuan.” I bobbed sideways before deciding to ask them the question I had been mulling over. “You’re Nice, mean, nice, mean.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah. Head bad.” They hooked their fingers like claws and shook them around their head. “Scare, tired, Fight.” They gestured to the bars and glared. “Not like.”

I nodded. “I know that feeling.” A chime sounded, signaling the Queen’s approach. I flattened myself to the floor and made way.

The Queen slithered in, her scaled body scraping against the floor with a sound that made my feathers stand up. She reared to her full two meter height and flicked her tongue out to taste the air.

“Human. You are mine now, you will serve the glory of me.”

Michael looked her up and down and whistled lowly then pronounced in exact Common. “Ugly. Mother. Fucker.”

I gaped at them in horror. They dared insult the Queen to her face?

The Queen hissed, but smugly coiled. “You will serve me, human. I know your kind. You are loyal. I feed you, I provide you shelter. I give you safety. You will love me.”

The human backed up, crouching into a fighting stance. “No love, mother fucker.”

The Queen wiggled and slid towards the exit. “You will serve me.” They paused to pat me on the head. “You have duties, tiny one.”

The next several sols passed in the same manner. I did my duties, I fed the human, we exchanged words. At night I tended my secret garden grown in glasses of water and composted nutrient paste from seeds and cuttings I snuck from the Queen’s hoard. The human was learning not only Common but Murania at a breathtaking pace. We could hold whole conversations now and I was no longer… completely apprehensive about approaching their cage. Michael had not acted aggressive towards me at all since the Queen’s visit.

The rare human plant called a “green bean” plant had fruited after several months of care and pollinating with the tip of my own feather. I was ecstatic over the first fruits of my secret labor and I felt that Michael would appreciate my excitement and maybe a taste of his home planet. Humans were said to be incredibly empathetic and sentimental.

That morning I secreted a pair of bean pods in my uniform and headed for Micheal’s cage. They seemed to notice something was different right away, peering at me with concern. “All okay, Mikel?”

I nodded and nervously whispered. “Secret, right?”

They lowered their voice and moved closer to the bars. “Yeah, secret.”

I showed him the beans. “I grew these. It’s the first harvest from the plant! It’s a huge secret, but I wanted you to have them.”

Michael stared at the beans with an expression I didn’t recognize for a long time before whispering, their voice strangely rough. “You get trouble for these?”

I nodded and tried to shove the beans into their hands. “Yes, a lot of trouble. Take them!”

They took them and smiled. “Meesh Meesh, Mikel. This…. This mean lot to me. I can’t say enough. Meesh Meesh.” They bit into one and grinned, crunching happily. “Very good! You do good!”

I chittered and ruffled my wings, pleased with the praise. “Zuan, Michael.” I gave them their tray of nutrient paste and fled.

The next day (human word for sol) I found a broken something in the Queen’s trash bin. It was silvery and had a lot of moving parts and made me think of Michael. I shoved it into my uniform and snuck it to Michael. They were overjoyed and immediately began fiddling (another human word I find pleasant to use) with it.

I found I enjoyed making Michael happy and kept my eyes out for things to gift them. A broken flute, a torn book, a shiny rock shard, a discarded pipe, a bit of string. It all was random junk, but Michael was still so happy for each item. It… was a pleasant feeling, almost like being back with my brood mates.

Then… Then the alarms sounded one morning and the ship rocked with an explosion. Frightened, I grabbed my precious green bean plant and rushed instinctively towards Michael’s cage.

Only to find they weren’t there. The bars were broken, bent outward and a piece of the wall was torn open, exposing sparking wires and smashed circuits. The lights were flickering and I could hear screaming. I decided to run for the escape pods and hoped that the Queen died in that explosion.

I had barely skittered into the hallway when I found Michael. They were fighting with a guard twice their size, but easily leaped around it’s bulk and stabbed it in the base of the skull with some sort of spear. A primitive weapon, but still deadly in the hands of the human. Michael rode the body of the guard down to the ground and leaped off, brandishing the spear at me.

Frozen in fear, I distantly realized the weapon was made from the shiny rock tied to a piece of pipe. I was to die from a weapon I provided then.

Except, Michael lowered the weapon and smiled. “Mikel! I find you! Come on! We get out of here!”

“Out… Escape?”

“Yeah! C’mon, I stole codes for ship!”

I followed them numbly, too scared and shocked to process that not only had a single human escaped a 1st class prison cell with just bits of junk, but had also destroyed the Pirate Queen’s ship, and was taking me with them.

It wasn’t until we were flying fast and far from the wreckage, headed towards a Trading Station, that I found my voice. “Why… Why would you save me? I…” I didn’t know how to express the fact that I was nothing, tiny, worth only for cleaning while the human was strong, big, and apparently a fearsome and brilliant warrior.

Michael glanced at me from the corner of their eyes. “We friends, Mikel. Friends no leave friends. Also, you trapped like me. On other side of bars, but trapped same.”

“Friends? But Queen provided for you, you were supposed to bond with her?!”

The human looked at me incredulously before laughing long and loud, his head thrown back with the effort of it. “No Bond with Queen, she put me in cage. You! You give me food, you talk, teach, you bring me presents. You good friend. Queen Piece of Shit.”

“Oh.” Michael had bonded with me. And.. I with them it seemed. And we were free. “Meesh meesh, Michael. You’re a good friend too.” I hugged my green bean plant. “What now?”

“I thinking I turn in Queen head for bounty, use money buy good ship again. After, you want go home or you want explore?”

My wings flared in excitement. “Can I have a garden room on our ship?”

Michael grinned and tossed his arm (gently) around my shoulders. “Yes, you have garden room. Grow lots plant in space. Explore! Garden! New Planet! New Seed!”

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 , Part 7

Full Story on A3o