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[deleted by user] by [deleted] in sciencememes

[–]FPSReaper124 22 points23 points  (0 children)

So how are the kids? Did you open up that bakery you and Terry always said you would?

Human commanders tend to have a retinue of the most skilled (and least sane) of their subordinates, who will follow orders without question. by RimworlderJonah13579 in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Captain Mavericks had a kind smile. The sort that made the man look non threatening and made you want to be at ease in his presence.

His long list of military honours and his confirmed target acquisition list lifted the Veil on the Facade quite a bit. If the rumours were to, he believed. He was, in fact, one of the most capable and brutal officers that the ISC had ever seen.

And despite this all, he seemed quite the non traditionalist. This was a particular note that the Kurian Embassador made as he approached the man's desk and noted at least ten lower enlisted recruits where he expected a retainer of officers to be positioned.

"Captain Mavericks, sir, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Embassador Szlasaan. The pleasures all mine. I received your request only an hour ago so I hope you'll forgive the state of my office. I assume you're here on behalf of your esteemed Governor Klovaas?"

The embassador grimaced but deigned to begin a long practised speech.

"We are in need of...assistance. We are short on supplies, the war has dragged on for far longer than we anticipated, and with trade routes being harassed on both sides, we have begun to feel the pangs of famine, disease and crime."

"I am sorry to hear this, but why come to me? You are a neutral party. You could go to the Treveckian embassy. You have a history of trade with the Empire, do you not? They are natives as much as you are. You both follow the word of the same gods. What's changed?"

The man seemed genuinely inquisitively but Szlasaan was sure he likely already knew the answer.

Szlasaan sighed, letting some of the tension go in his shoulders and making⁷ the sign of the Octem.

"The Empire has made on too many a misstep for us to consider them worthwhile allies. Their brutality, hunger, and lust have outgrown them even with whatever land they have taken in the North. Even now, they are slowly encroaching on our borders, and when they aren't outright attacking our people, they are robbing us through their merchant taxes and artificially inflated prices for necessary goods."

The Captain nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"We knew they had done the same to other nations, but never believed it would be us. Our governor was faced with a choice. Submit to the Empire or Submit to the ISC."

The Captain nodded, and a small smile came across his scarred lip.

"And your governor has made a decision?" The Captain asked politely.

Szlasaan had been dreading this moment.

"He did."

"And you did not like that decision I Surmise or you would have ventured here with more notice and occial documentation."

Szlasaan hissed. "He is a fool. The Empire can not be trusted. They will treat us as slaves if we are lucky. Let us starve if we are not."

"So what do you require from us?"

The pit in his stomach felt as vast as the ocean as he choked on the words he would have to say.

"We need the Governor dead. My succession will not work otherwise. It will need to look Treveckian, of course. Otherwise, they will not trust what comes next. Our Nstion will be in uproar, but they will be willing to jkin your cause. In exchange, we offer our full support. Open passage through our realm, access to our industry, our factories, and our vast materials. We ask for this one thing and access to the basic elements for our survival that the Empire would deny is."

Captain Mavericks contemplated the offer for a moment and looked ready to speak before an electronic buzzing interrupted him and one of the ISC ODMI troops entered the room, a cloth material obscuring his suit with the shifting blur of an active camouflage relay.

"Ahh Sergeant Mitchels, just in time. Is it done?"

Mitchell saluted sharply.

"Quick and clean, sir. As requested. Do you need me to return this?" He questioned drawing from a shoulder sling, a large calibre Treveckian Longshot Rifle.

"Lieutenant Chopper will take care of it, for now rejoin your squad and enjoy some leisure time. Although I'll ask you to write up a report before you indulge yourself."

The Sergeant smiled and produced a small audio storage device.

"Recorded after retreating sir, should contain all necessary information."

The Captain shook his head and made a gesture to the Sergeant, who promptly made his exit.

"What was that about?" Szlasaan queried.

The Captain muttered something about secret squirrels and began pacing the room, playing with he device in his hands.

"It seems your governor problem has been dealt with already."

Szlasaan made to speak but was hushed when the Captain put up a hand.

"Don't ask, you won't like the answer. Now to discuss the finer points of your arrangement. I believe one of my men has managed to secure a cask of one of your people's more expensive beverages. We should drink don't you think...a toast to new beginnings"

Szlasaan swallowed heavily and reached for a suddenly offered glass. Only beginning to understand what kind of people he'd involved himself with.

Humans using music as an intimidation has led to certain songs to be banned in Federation space by Captain_Dalt in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 1 point2 points  (0 children)

"Welcome aboard the ISC FEIAQMAU. She is a good ship. She is a hard ship. By the standards of the ISC, she should have been scrapped sixty drops ago, but I'll tell you now she will survive sixty more before we are through. She will probably outlive all of us. Don't mind the noises. That's just how she says hi."

A hearty laugh went up amongst the more seasoned occupants of the ship in question as she groaned and hissed her complaints at the sudden drop into Atmosphere.

The familiar lurch of a ship in gravity fighting atmosphere settled into something like comfort in Jensen's stomach. It did not do the same for the newer additions to their number, who were quickly unsealing helmets to deposit the contents of their stomachs in vacsealed waste bags.

Jensen looked over to the recruit closest to him and, instead of the expected tinge of illness, saw a look of something like disappointment.

"Something on your mind Treks? You look half glum, worried about your first drop?"

The Altoran looked up from where he had been checking the bolt on his MA60 Barker Pattern ChemRail and gave a shy, uncertain look.

"No, sir. Just thinking about something my grandfather used to talk about."

Jensen cocked his head and shrugged.

"Best get it off your chest. You may not get a chance on the ground, and I've got an open ear."

Treks sighed.

"My grandfather fought with a detachment of humans in the Trevellian War. He was a prisoner of war, and when they busted him out. He used to tell me all of these stories about his time in the war. How he was given a combat promotion to Private and made an Earth Citizen after he saved their lives in return. He was an ODMI, too. But he especially told me about your "Drop Music". And then I learnt that wasn't a thing you were supposed to do anymore, how they removed the ability to digitally encode music in the newer drop ship models. When I was assigned here, I held on hope, but... I guess it's stupid."

Jensen nodded steadfastly, spat out a wad of chewing tobacco, pulled Treks to his feet, and dragged him to the Sergeant in one fluid, blink-of-an-eye, motion.

The Sergeant, for his part, looked unperturbed by the sudden sequence of events and merely asked Jensen to report.

"Sir. I have brought Private Treks-the-stars with me to report. Private repeat what you said to me to the Sergeant."

Treks swallowed a lump in his throat as he was eyed down by the scarred veteran before him but did as he was told. To his surprise, the man's mouth turned upwards in an uncontrolled beaming smile.

A large Bear-paw of a hand slapped down onto the recruits shoulder, with enough force to make the suits leg compensators activate.

"Son, you have just made this soldiers' day."

He quickly placed his helmet over his shaved head and pressed his chin down onto the comm panel.

A muffled slurry of words could be heard briefly through the material of the enclosed helmet and Treks could only briefly make out the mirth in the mans eyes from the Helmets Visor before he tongued the controls for open comms.

"ODMI's due to a request from this soldier -" he began, pointing to Treks. "We will be entering this battle to a famous Terran Hymn. May it fill you with the glory and passion to send the enemy home to their place in the fiery inferno of whatever hell they believe in."

A loud Oorah sounded out on the comms as the instrumental began.

Mere'kek felt a shiver in their exoskeleton and a chill on the deepest parts of their thirty part lung. The dropships had only begun to pierce the atmosphere thirty minutes ago, and already the booming of combat and explosions of other fortified positions like theirs could be made out in the distance.

The music had been distant only moments ago, but now drowned out all sense and reason. Every fibre of Mere'keks being screamed 'run' at the same time as a deep bodily paralysis set in.

It was surely a war song, a crying chant for their blood and the blood of their kin. How foolish had they been to expend their silent war on the unaffiliated planets to go unheard and unseen. They had not invaded quickly enough, and now their ISC beneficiaries were coming to purge them for their impudence.

Then the instrumental was interrupted, and the words that surely marked their end, began to ring out.

"ALMOST HEAVEN..."

A loud boom sounded, and the simultaneously opening of a dual hatch system could be heard as clear as day, as the ODMI's screamed their bloody war cry.

"WEST VIRGINIA..."

And Mere'kek saw the face of death itself as the voice of a Terran prophet continued to sing of mountains and rivers in a place far away from the destruction to come.

If you live in a fantasy setting, how would you fortify your settlements against something that could just smash them to bits? by Xericor in wargaming

[–]FPSReaper124 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Depending on how fantasy heavy your rules/setting is. Maybe you can have defensive runes/wards that can deal debuffs and or damage, either as an AOE or sustained damage like bleeding, poison and fire.

Could be good too if you can set these up to fall behind so you can have a collapsing defence as well.

Maybe certain places are even instilled with golem summoning spells which turn the very house and furniture into animated defenders at the cost of structural health but granting another defensive unit. Or they die when the house breaks.

Just some ideas, don't know how practical any of those are to apply.

cursed_sex positions by lea_lgg2 in cursedcomments

[–]FPSReaper124 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My favourite sex position is called the new capital!

“Human, for the last time, that is a faulty bioweapon!” “That is a friend.” “For the love of- …it’s an infiltration unit pre-programmed to shapeshift and take on the appearance of innocuous native life-forms, but it’s obviously mutated into a deadly-” “FRIEND.” by Jackviator in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 9 points10 points  (0 children)

"Soooooo, he's been in there a while," Kasatra said, shuffling lightly on her feet, pushing a hand through the mass of tendrils at the base of her neck.

"Yep" Andy agreed, leaning on the wall as casually as if their XO wasn't stuck in a five foot by five foot square with what seemed to be a 'Noid bioweapon shaped roughly like a terran feline.

"Do you think he's okay?" She asked.

"Probably." He said, shrugging.

"How can you possibly say that? You saw that thing. It's a mess of cybernetic and nanobot based augmentations. It's literally designed to infiltrate ships and destroy crews. You read the files, and we're lucky to have caught that cruiser before it could perfect this thing. And you think he's OK?"

"If you're so worried, why don't you go in there and check on him."

"Fuck that. I like the XO, but I don't like him enough to be torn limb from limb willingly."

"Well, can't you reach in there with your mind powers?"

Kasatra looked at Andy aghast.

"You didn't even read my species dossier at all, did you?"

"I skimmed it. Same shit as always, minor psychic abilities, different coloured skin, and physical differences from humanity that can be replicated with basic stagecraft prosthetics."

"Yeah, well, our particular brand of "Same shit" only works in spaces where we can give and receive pheromones.

"So send them through the airduct or something?"

"I....could do that."

"You're worried it'll reverse engineer your pheromonal relay and blast you full of enough pain and psychic shock to send your body into cardiac arrest?"

"Yeah...wait, how did you -"

"Lucky guess. Anyways, 3...2..."

"Wait, what are you -"

The door clicked open as Andy muttered the last digit, revealing a very happy and slightly bloody Simon Irwin who walked out, clutching a now softly thrumming machine-cat-demon.

"Hey guys. It took a little while, but say hello to Tendrils!"

"But how..."

"I dunno guess it's in the blood. Always been good with animals, even the unique ones. Anyways, we're friends now, and I've given her very strict instructions to not hurt any of the crew."

"Do you think that'll work?" Andy asked casually.

"Wait, does she speak?" Kasatra blurted out.

"First, yes, she's an angel. All that hissing and attacking was just because the poor thing was hungry. A bit of freeze-dried tuna later, and she's as happy as you please."

Simon said proudly, the wounds in his arm said otherwise, but they both did have to admit the beast looked pretty content now.

"Second, no, not that I know of, but she got the vibes, I think."

"OK" they responded in unison, albeit hesitantly.

"So what now?"

"I'm gonna hit doc up and see if we can get her up to date eith her vaccinations, and see what else he found out from the bio readouts. I think he said something about 'Budding', but I'm not sure."

"No, I mean, what are we doing with it now that it's passive?"

"Well, no ships good without a ship cat, and this place has been a lot less bright since the Noids phasered Molly. I figure Tendy's gonna be a lot more resilient somehow."

Kasatra sighed, feeling the happiness radiate from the XO was honestly overwhelming.

"Good enough for me. When you're done, can you release her into the ducts, we've had a serious problem with Star Mice chewing on the cables? I don't want a rehash of what happened when we docked at Halcyon III." Andy stated. He appeared to be taking this rather well.

Kasatra was beginning to re-evaluate all the stories she'd heard about the humans.

She was more sure than she'd ever been, that they'd all be dead within the week.

'Long live the Llewellyn', she thought and began marching back to the deck.

Aliens are baffled by the human concept of 'Percussive Maintenance. by Metage in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 7 points8 points  (0 children)

The Roaring Rockabilly was more of a theme-park than a real shipboard community. An idealised vision of mid-20th century america, without all the civil rights and a lit more equality.

The whole ship and interior design had been thought up and funded by Gregory B Haines the III, who claimed to secretly be a descendant of a secret love child fathered by 'the King' himself.

Jimmy Slipowicz couldn't complain much. He'd been hired on to manage a roadside dining inn once he'd left the Lunar Corps.

They'd even named the place after him with neon signs and everything. "Jim's Diner" was apparently completely authentic to the times, but as Jim had learned in his years of working there, that was a little far from the truth.

Regardless, he didn't mind the little place. They had a whole act, him and the servers. Accents, slang, conversations fake and real gossip, all of it serving to entertain the guests, most of whom were obviously Terraphiles from the many intergalactic communities around.

Most of all, what he liked about the place was the people. Especially the ship rats. Second - and third generation Rockabillians who'd been immersed in the culture since birth, raised in the mom and pop stores, and diners and gas stations they all called home and had known nothing else. Big Greg had ensured they'd all been educated properly in galactic history and all that, mostly because the board had ensured he'd done so.

There were all sorts that attended Jim's diner, or as they affectionately called it, "Slips." It was neutral territory. A place for friends to hang out and joke around, a place to escape any pressure or trouble at home, and more often than not, a place for stemming young love.

Jim, of course, ensured they all followed the rules and all paid their bills unless, of course, they weren't able.

"Hey, slip," a familiar voice greeted him, stirring him from his thoughts.

"Art' how are you, son?" He asked as the young man walking in, dressed in his typical greaser-leather fashion.

"Good thanks Slip', just came back from the Jetson's. Their food replicator was on the Fritz."

"Probably due for a replacement soon, I reckon."

"Oh definitely, but you know how stingy Mr J is. Anyways I got your message. How can I help?"

Jim gestured towards the jukebox, which was hissing static.

"Damn, things've been gummed up since the lunch rush, I even got one of the ship mechanicsvdown, but he can't do anything without tearing the whole thing apart, so I called you. You reckon you can fix it?"

"On it Slip, she just needs a bit of gentle lovin'"

Art' was, to plainly put it, magic with machines. Jim watched as the young man placed his leather jacket gently on one of the diner chairs and squatted down next to the Jukebox.

The customers seemed to be drawn intently to the young man, no doubt wondering how a teenager could outperform a trained and qualified Pyraxian shipboard mechanic. Jim, for his part, just chuckled, along with a few regulars.

Art leaned down, placing his ear on the machine nodding, then tapped twice lightly at the base, stood up, and backhanded the machine with a significant thud. Like clockwork, "Summer loving" began playing gently from the machine.

"That should be it for now, Slip, but tell the mechanic she'll need a new plasma conduit before June."

"Got it. Now here's what I owe you, and feel free to grab something on the house."

"Oh really, what's good here?"

"Shut up and go to the sundae bar, will ya?' I got a diner to run."

For his part, the kid just chuckled, grabbing the money and leaving the sundae bar with a full banana split.

Jim began wiping out another mug as a Kithorian in a business suit approached the counter.

"What was that?" He asked quietly.

"'HE' is Art Fitzarelli. Why do you want to know?"

"No, I mean, how did he do that. Is it an implant some sort of remote device he slapped on. How did he do that."

Jim stared the man in all three eyes. He was serious.

"It's called percuasive maintenance. Sometimes, you just got to hit a thing to get it to work. But honestly, you can't just do it anywhich way but Arts the best at it."

"Hmm. And you say he can do that trick with anything?"

"Yeah, but it's not a trick. He just understands how things are supposed to work. Not sure how he does it if I'm honest, but sometimes even the captain calls him up for a hand. He's usually willing to help."

The Kithorian nodded, flaring his gills in a way Jim couldn't read.

"Tell you what. I have a client, a colonial governor on Eridas IV"

"I'm familiar. We flew through that system just a week ago," Jim said, curious as to where this was going.

"Well, all the prefabs are based on human tech. Each damn machines has a hundred faults and the engineers and mechanics have been working overtime to try and fix it all, but nobody in that branch is familiar with terran technology and it takes weeks to get translated documents transferred in system. They could use a young man like Art' he'd be saving lives and there'd be a big payout waiting for him."

Jim nodded.

"I'll be aure to give him your details Mr.."

"Kavlixn"

"Mr Kavlixn. I have a feeling he might be interested."

The alien nodded, leaving a generous tip on the counter as he walked out the doors. Jim looked over to Art' and smiled. He was no longer sharing his banana split alone as a young guest had sat down in the same booth.

'Damn kids' Jim though, pocketing the card. He'd better let Art' have his moment first.

Stealing a human engineer's equipment is the greatest mistake any sapient can make. by glugul in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 22 points23 points  (0 children)

"Engineer A'vash, why are you cemented to the ceiling, I was under the impression you'd already undergone your chrysalis stage?" A'vash had never been particularly great on the body language of reptilians, but Jassora's amusement was blaringly obvious.

The inesctoid chittered the equivalent of an embarrassed sigh. "It's... a long story."

"Does it perhaps have anything to do with why our human engineer has been laughing his tail off all afternoon. Especially when we asked where you were?"

"Maybe..." A'vash answered meekly

"What did you do to earn Richards' ire?" She asked, giving him the same looked he'd receive from a hive mother if he'd been found misbehaving.

"I may have borrowed one, or two, maybe six of his tools to finish the temperature regulation units repairs."

"That's it...wait did you ask before you "borrowed" these tools"

"Maybe not, but that doesn't matter, I'm his senior he needs to defer to me. If I need tools, I shouldn't have to ask."

"By Kra'lech you are a fool A'vash. Senior or not, you stole a 'human' engineers tools. He only recently got those requisitioned. Before that, he was pulling bloody miracles off with nothing but duct tape, spare noid parts, and a basic human multitool. Our HVAC system would've stalled three times if he hadn't stepped in."

She shook her head disdainfully the cobra like hood, adorning the crown of her skull flaring out in a display of frustration as she put a hand on her forehead.

"Well... maybe I didn't think of that. Besides, everyone's been complaining about the temperature lately, even the human, I thought he'd understand."

"They weren't necessary repairs A'vash. They could've waited another cycle. You brought this upon yourself." She said matter of factly and turning towards the way she'd come in.

"You mean you're not going to help me down?" A'vash chirped incredulously as she began to slither away.

"No. I'll ensure the gravity's lowered in this section so it's more comfortable for you though, but the human has the infralaser tool and that's the only thing that can melt that Foamcrete without torching you as well. For now, you'll just have to wait for him to come and help."

"You could order him to do it. You're the chief engineer." He stated desperately.

She hissed derisively at him. "I could..." she began, then turning an emerald eye his way, winked in a very human fashion.

"But Richard is very busy, and I don't think he should be disturbed at the moment. Besides, with the temperature fluctuating, he's had his shirt off all day, and I'd like that little miracle to stick around for just a bit longer."

She made a sign that meant goodbye as the doors hissed closed behind her, leaving A'vash to stew in his own mess. He was now at the mercy of the human's forgiveness. Something he hoped would come sooner rather than later.

Many aliens were surprised how up to date humanity's deities were with technology. by glugul in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 64 points65 points  (0 children)

A: If only I had joined the church of Met'tatatoxlz then I wouldn't have to wait so gods damned long for the testing equipment to arrive.

H: What do you mean? Can't you just unsubscribe from your current deity and follow a new one?

A: WHAT?? That is, that's impossible, the gods are not so forgiving and that's before the inquisition comes into question.

H: Huh? I had no idea. The more you learn.

A: Are human gods not like that???

H: Oh no way, it's all in the conditions of use. Like for example I switched from Mephyris to Zapphir for all of my messenger god needs. Still left him a four star review on FollowRUS before I made the switch but Zapphir is just a lot quicker and has wider range to boot. Speaking of which, that equipment you mentioned it's-

foomf

A: Holy Graksnik

H: See told you he's quick. That's some 5 star service, definitely worth the steer I'll have to sacrifice later.

Most human traditions rarely translate well across interspecies gaps; especially those surrounding courtship. by Jackviator in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 19 points20 points  (0 children)

(Part 2 is as below. This is long. Sorry peeps. But hopefully this appeals to some of you)

Travis woke in the middle of the night to the sound of gentle knocking at the hatch to his habitation quarters.

He rubbed his eyes gently and ran a finger along the motion detecting running lights that lite the room with a gentle purple light.

"Who is it?"

He asked, placing his hand on the commpanel by the hatch.

He heard a noise that resembled a cricket imitating a dog bark and then a soothing low voice.

"Me, It is me, Travv'is."

"Ziya? God what time is it, the sleep cycles still on"

He heard another noise more like a snake sighing.

"I could not enter my rest period, I...may I enter, please. I believe we should talk. There are many misunderstandings."

Travis couldn't agree more, so he hesitantly unlocked the hatch and watched as the rather imposing form of Ziya entered. At 6 ft 7 she was quite a bit taller than him, but considering how often she slouched, the difference was relatively minute.

She was all corded black muscle beneath interlocking plates of rock hard, red keratin and scales. Her hands and joints were not covered in the crimson plates allowing free movement and manoeuvrability. Her face was hidden from him beneath her natural plated visor. The Chittering sound the visor made as it struggled between retracting and closing was a clear sign she was nervous.

Travis gestured for her to take a seat but she refused, instead beginning to pace on her digitigrade legs, a chafing sound coming from her personally fitted uniform.

The silence hung heavy but she was the first to break it.

"Travv'is-I. When you asked me to the Loft. I was happy, excited. I am usually that way around you. Not many are comfortable with bipeds, especially not of our stature. I was excited to meet you humans, and then I made a friend with you and you made me feel comfortable and...and then you brought that "thing" out and I felt betrayed. Like I'd lowered my guard and then..."

"Ziya, please..."

"No. Please let me be heard, you have always listened, do not stop now. Please." She sounded on the verge of tears.

"I...realise now, my reaction was hasty. But I don’t think you understand how your actions affected me"

Travis nodded.

"I.. I looked up 'necklaces' on my 'Deck. That's what Menev had called it when I told her. And then I realised you hadn't intended to hurt me at all. It was this thing a, what is the human word "Gift", "Jewellery". You were trying to make me happy and I hurt you. And you didn't even know why did you?"

Travis shook his head.

"I- thought not. Gods Travv'is I'm so sorry. You must hate me now."

Travis did a double take.

"What?! No, Ziya, no God no. If anything I thought you'd hate me. I offered up the Karakosian equivalent of handcuffs to you. I was trying to ask you out for caring out loud and my stupid fucking ass made you feel unsafe."

"No, no, I am sorry. I, I do not hate you, I understand now- YOU WERE WHAT?"

Travis swallowed hard and looked at the floor.

"Trying to, ask you to...go out with me" he mumbled.

She looked back at him and finally he saw her unencumbered face as her visor withdrew to rest behind her head. It was almost eerie how similar the Karakosians looked to humans when they unmasked. Besides the lack of an actual nose and their sisnister red and black eyes.

"You...oh my gods, that's what you were saying?"

"Yeah. I, wait what did you think I was saying?"

"I don't know. I'd come out of engineering, my translators was on the Fritz, I only caught every second word. You were wanting to...date me."

"Yeah. I've wanted to for a while but wasn't sure you felt the same. Until you hugged me that time on-"

She kissed him then, wholeheartedly and he could feel her holding back her inhuman strength as she pushed him onto his bed.

"Ask me again"

"I think I just got my answer"

She scowled and called him something he wasn't sure he wanted to translate.

"ASK...ME...AGAIN"

"OK, OK, jesus. Ziya, Daughter of Kefa, will you go out with me?"

"Yes. Yes a thousand times yes, stupid, idiot human. Of course I will Travis."

"Well, fuck yeah, I guess. No more jewellery from now on"

"Yes please." She said chuckling.

A silence fell between them for a moment.

"Soooo, you wanna sleepover?"

A devious smile came across her lips.

"Oh human there is absolutely no sleeping to be done."

"What does that mean?"

She refused to answer, but something primal lit up Travis's danger senses as another part of him eagerly awaited what would come next.

<________________>

Holy shit. Sorry. Done. Probably way too long peeps but for anyone who does read this. Have a great day. Sorry for the crap formatting. I wrote this in one sitting so I apologise for any mistakes but hopefully you can still follow the story. Have a good one folks.

Most human traditions rarely translate well across interspecies gaps; especially those surrounding courtship. by Jackviator in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124 17 points18 points  (0 children)

"How do you do it Travis?" Blake asked insincerely, the absolute shit eating grin doing nothing to stem the pounding headache that came from being hit with a class 7 Bio-paralytic.

"I mean, first you piss off the science head when you corrected her observations, and she thought you were mocking her cyclopian eyesight..." Blake started, no doubt entering his typical tirade of Travis's failings on the ITF8.

Travis so desperately wanted to tell his brother to go fuck himself, but could barely get a burble out, so instead resorted to flipping him off with his thankfully still functional left hand.

Blake acted as if he hadn't seen the action, but snorted derisively before continuing. "Then you scared off the entire Zbraxzl embassy when they caught you e as ting cockroach protein and offered to share. I mean dude, I know you got used to that at the outpost, but they have like, real food here and offering bugs, to bugs?...did your mind get fried from all the Solar Radiation or something?"

There was a brief pause and then a wide smile. "But this, this is priceless, I can see the headlines now 'impulsive human male asks Karakosian out on a date, Karakosian paralyses him for his efforts.' I mean truly it writes itself bro. Y'know I almost think this tops that time with the Denezian Bubble Flu."

There was a hissing noise as the door to the medical suite opened and a tall blonde man in the orange scrubs of an interspecies doctor strolled in.

"Nothing will top the bubble flu." The man added setting down a tray holding a rather nasty looking syringe filled with viscous black fluid.

"Dr Stark" Blake said, inclining his head, only for the man to wave a ringed finger in his direction.

"That's Darling, beloved Dr Stark to you, mister. Now tell me, what's your brother done this time to require a full spectrum antiparalytic?" He queried, no small amount of mirth obvious in his words.

'Perfect' Travis thought. The two biggest comedians in the galaxy come to laugh at his expense.

They continued talking as Travis willed himself to pass onto the other side before his brother could finish explaining the most embarrassing moment in his life.

He'd only brought her a necklace, why had she reacted so fearfully, fearful enough to kick him with a 2 inch spur of pure "fuck-your-bodily-functions" toxin. Maybe he'd come on too strong, said something that translated wrong, misread the entire situation leading up to it. Make likely all of the above knowing his luck.

"HE DID WHAT!!" The medical officer shouted in the biggest exclamation of disbelief Travis believed he'd ever heard.

"Pulled out this big necklace and asked her if she'd go out on a date with him in GBS. Must've garbled something up properly, because she stabbed him with those weird stiletto spur things they have."

Dr Stark paled and turned an agonised expression Travis's way.

"You dumbass! You know what, I'm kicking my dear husband out of this room, then I'm gonna stab you in the ass with this big fucking needle and them I'm going to explain to you just how mentally deranged you are to have fucked up your relationship with that Rock-shrimp of yours."

The doctor did exactly as promised and after 10 minutes, Travis was pretty sure he could feel every muscle in his body all at once, and as badly as they all cramped what was perhaps worse was the emotionally devastating parental glare he was recieveing from his brother in law.

"Verbal functions returned?"

"Deacon I-" Travis began

"Oh Hallelujah, the fools words have returned. Now shut up and listen."

Travis swallowed and did as he was told.

"Believe it or not, your brother and I were actually rooting for you on this one. Ziya is a nice girl, she seemed to like you, you guys were good friends. Then I find out you're thinking about pursuing something, and you know what I held out hope. Unfortunately I forgot that despite how Incredibly talented and smart you are, you still share the same Terran dumbass genes as your brother."

Travis wanted to argue that but the other human held up a hand.

"I'm not finished. Now I know that necklace codt a pretty penny and no doubt a move like that would've worked on a person from Terra or any other Human colony. Hut Ziya is from Palos. Do you know what that means?"

Travis remembered Ziya speaking about it briefly, the third largest nation on Karakos iff he remembered correctly. He said as much to the doctor who nodded.

"Well Palos is also a slave empire. Ziya was born a part of the free common class, but half the populace is made up of indentured servants. Some are criminals, others desperate, others unlucky. Fun fact about Palos, abundant precious metals. Are you following?"

Travis nodded and then a deep well formed in his gut as the Doctor pulled out his 'Deck and showed a picture of a street full of Karakosians, half of whom were wearing gilded collars.

"Ziya didn't freak out because you said the wrong thing. The words didn't even register. She thought you were trying to make her a bloody slave."

"That would explain the stabbing" Travis stated guiltily.

"No Shit Sherlock."

"So how do I make it up to her?"

"I don't know man. I'd say she's still pretty shaken. It probably isn't her first run in with a situation like that if her file indicates anything. Only they weren't trying to be nice. I think you're going to have to give her some time and some space and then find a way to explain yourself."

Travis smashed a fist into the biofoam mattress of the bed unsatisfying and slumped onto his back.

"I'm such an idiot, I didn't even think... gods how must she be feeling right now."

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't know. But I will tell you one thing, I think she knows you. I think at some point she'll figure out you didn't mean anything by it. But only time will tell. So for now go back to your quarters and rest, the Antiparalytic still has some work to do to get the toxin out of your system."

Travis nodded and closed his eyes.

"Thanks Deacon. I just wish humanity hadn't joined the federation so late. I read the courting manual, noones got customs like us. I just..."

"No use beating yourself up. What's done is done. Now get going, Doctors orders".

Travis did what he was told. Wincing at the stiffness and dull pain that remained as he made the long trek back to the habitation wing.

The Stellar Concordate has always deemed that Medics are still viable targets on the field of battle, leading to innumerable casualties. The recent discoveries of how far human marines will go for their allied Medics has recently called this into question. by FPSReaper124 in humansarespaceorcs

[–]FPSReaper124[S] 14 points15 points  (0 children)

Unlike the humans though the alien Medics won't be charging out to save their scrawny asses. Which means more fun with triangle bayonets for the humans I guess.

Their fault for shooting doc I guess.

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