hey guys, I saw some really neat shorts over at /r/writingprompts. Honestly, just about all of them were amazingly interesting to read, so I figured I'd share 'em.
The goal of the thread is to write a story of the following subject:
Humans are known in the galaxy for being a bit dim, but also for being the very best mechanics around, and inexplicably able to fix machines beyond their comprehension. You have broken down on Earth, and having the apes work on your craft is both fascinating and terrifying.
So without further ado, here's the stories thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts ... ing_a_bit/
If you have the RES plugin do yourself a favor and hit the 'hide all child comments' button on main post. The rest of you will just have to scroll a lot I guess. Just look for walls of text...
edit: Here's the best ones in no particular order (imo)
#1
Spoiler!
The Warp-Core was undergoing critical failure. They felt the containment mechanisms slide into place as they were meant to; they felt the non-vital systems of the vessel shutting down to conserve power, hibernating; they felt the older, vestigial thrusters prepare themselves for use as the FTL travel mechanisms shut down. A signal beacon sent out a message to my home world requesting assistance, one unlikely to be received in any decent span of time.
I felt all of this as if it were a part of my body, for it were in a way. Telepathic networks linked every aspect of the ship to my mind, lending the feeling that the ship was a part of my body; every motion smooth, refined, working perfectly in sync as it had smoothly evolved to over millenia, the perfect fusion of form and function, of the technological and biological- that had just broken down in the middle of the Galactic Backwater. I felt a crushing fear as I assessed the damage to the engine room. It was completely annihilated, with no chance of repair. The mass-driver had been wiped out of existence with an anti-matter leak, and entire pieces of the system were missing. I was stranded.
Checking my coordinates and seeing what was nearby, I realized the universe must have been either kind, cruel, or it's usual unknowing mixture of both, for my Warp-Core broke down outside of the Sol System: Home of the Naked Apes.
It was with distaste that I sent a thought towards the main planet, Earth, asking for direction to a location where my ship could again be made ready for FTL travel.
Not, I assure you, that I have any resent or ill-will towards any living creation. However, they were unusual, even by the standards of the explored universe. They had been introduced to the rest of the sentient life of the galaxy when they destroyed a passing tourist with several thousand kilotons of old dirty nuclear weapons, after fearing that the passerby was the scout of an invasion force. Since then, they've been a surprisingly active species, with millions of them hired by various companies and military bodies as battlefield mechanics, due to their ability to, by some combination of instinct and dumb luck, to preform impossible technological improvisations. Unlike every other space-faring species, they spent most of their evolutionary history apart from any kind of technology, and seemed to have lucked into a specific type of spatial intelligence that let them use tools. As such, the usual method of creation, molding raw material into a seamless construct over years, with each new generation shaping old advances into new forms flawlessly, humans simply was unknown to them. They simply. . . built them, disparate chunks of metal and scrap held together by more scrap.
This was plainly obvious as I followed their direction to a "spaceport", as they called it. Hundreds of different buildings, most of them consisted of dozens of metal and glass panes stuck together. The city I flew over was a diseased heart, arteries and veins flowing through towering monoliths that held no rhyme or reason and seemed ready to collapse into dust at any moment. My cardiac systems nearly stopped as I landed. The sign "Hangar 71" hung from the ceiling, casting the gaudy green light of electrified neon on to my ship's carapace. Like their ancestral apes, the humans around seemed to have no reasoning, sprinting around from station to station, doing what I can only assume was the maintenance necessary to keep this "hangar" together, it only being metal sheets held together with struts, welds, and some form of-
"Excuse me, can we help you? We've only got so many landing spots and the sooner we can clear you out to wherever the hell you're from, the better."
Broken from my disdainful review, I turned my eyes to get a better look at the human speaking. He seemed to be the image of a human mechanic- bulging with protein structures, small bright eyes constantly darting, and covered with scavenged or constructed technology. He smelled as if he had never been cleansed, the oils oozing out of every inch of his porous skin barely covered by the overpowering scents he used to cover it up.
However, my disgust was overpowered by my need. "My Warp-Core appears to have been either damaged during travel, or to be diseased in some way. I need to be able to return home rather quickly. You see, I am returning from a scientific inquiry as to a dwarf galaxy that may-"
He nodded along up until my explanation of purpose, when he proceeded to scribble something down on to a silicon tablet before turning to a group of humans who had been in a state of inactivity, quietly conversing.
"HEY, I'M NOT PAYING YOU TO LOUNGE AROUND. GET YOUR ASSES HERE, WE GOT A BROKEN WARP-CORE. IT'S A RUSH JOB, I WANT THIS THING HALFWAY TO ALPHA-CENTAURI BY LUNCH."
The volume of his vocal vibrations felt like a telepathic assault- even more so was the whirlwind of activity afterwards. My eyes expanded with awe as I watched the workers descend on my vessel. It seemed a pack of beasts tearing apart prey, a furious ripping and tearing of my ships hull to access the core. I could only stand their astounded as they violated the form of my ship, ripping and tearing out component, leaving their wires dangling from them like organs ripped from a corpse.
One of them, wearing denim on their lower body and nothing on the upper portions, leaned out of one of the cuts they had made in the hull to yell something to his companions.
"Some kind of weird biological based system, haven't seen it before. Get me the welder and some of the parts we have left over from that Guliton ship."
It took every portion of my willpower and training to not give into my anger and disgust. Guliton technology? They were a silicon based biology, and my ship was carbon! Not to mention that it was completely incompatible, with entirely different design, and several centuries behind the technology of my ship. My ship had been crafted by our greatest sculptors, a single piece of perfection, and I could feel waves of fear and anguish roll off of me in telepathic waves as I watched it's desecration, as I watched them stab it with metal nails and burn it with torches, it's very form tortured.
Suddenly, I felt a very familiar energy on the edge of my conscious. It felt like my warp core, if it had been sent through a black hole and managed to exit. It vibrated in a frequency that made it seem as it was ready to explode, the color glowing from inside the cracked and bolted carapace was crimson as opposed to the standard teal, and the hull itself seemed to have been ripped to shreds and attached together with discolored bands and sheets of metal.
The upper-body bare mechanic that had been in my vessel came over to me, teeth bared in what I can only assume to be a show of aggression.
"Well, it wasn't anything I'd seen before, but I think we got it all sorted out. Had to reverse the polarity of the neutron flows, invert the mass concentrater and a few other small things, but she should be able to take you from one side of space to the other and back again. Now, on the matter of payment."
I quickly telepathically told him the information to my bank account, and enjoyed a quiet moment of joy as he reeled back. Despite having access to telepathic neural networks for decades, humans still refused to use them except when absolutely necessary.
With trepidation I stepped back into my vessel, feeling every change and improvised solution they had made. My ship felt, as opposed to a smooth creature or work of art, like a trash heap that, through some combination of luck and prayer, seemed to work. However, it took off, and luckily I was away from that cesspool and on my way home as soon as I was able to clear their atmosphere.
I felt all of this as if it were a part of my body, for it were in a way. Telepathic networks linked every aspect of the ship to my mind, lending the feeling that the ship was a part of my body; every motion smooth, refined, working perfectly in sync as it had smoothly evolved to over millenia, the perfect fusion of form and function, of the technological and biological- that had just broken down in the middle of the Galactic Backwater. I felt a crushing fear as I assessed the damage to the engine room. It was completely annihilated, with no chance of repair. The mass-driver had been wiped out of existence with an anti-matter leak, and entire pieces of the system were missing. I was stranded.
Checking my coordinates and seeing what was nearby, I realized the universe must have been either kind, cruel, or it's usual unknowing mixture of both, for my Warp-Core broke down outside of the Sol System: Home of the Naked Apes.
It was with distaste that I sent a thought towards the main planet, Earth, asking for direction to a location where my ship could again be made ready for FTL travel.
Not, I assure you, that I have any resent or ill-will towards any living creation. However, they were unusual, even by the standards of the explored universe. They had been introduced to the rest of the sentient life of the galaxy when they destroyed a passing tourist with several thousand kilotons of old dirty nuclear weapons, after fearing that the passerby was the scout of an invasion force. Since then, they've been a surprisingly active species, with millions of them hired by various companies and military bodies as battlefield mechanics, due to their ability to, by some combination of instinct and dumb luck, to preform impossible technological improvisations. Unlike every other space-faring species, they spent most of their evolutionary history apart from any kind of technology, and seemed to have lucked into a specific type of spatial intelligence that let them use tools. As such, the usual method of creation, molding raw material into a seamless construct over years, with each new generation shaping old advances into new forms flawlessly, humans simply was unknown to them. They simply. . . built them, disparate chunks of metal and scrap held together by more scrap.
This was plainly obvious as I followed their direction to a "spaceport", as they called it. Hundreds of different buildings, most of them consisted of dozens of metal and glass panes stuck together. The city I flew over was a diseased heart, arteries and veins flowing through towering monoliths that held no rhyme or reason and seemed ready to collapse into dust at any moment. My cardiac systems nearly stopped as I landed. The sign "Hangar 71" hung from the ceiling, casting the gaudy green light of electrified neon on to my ship's carapace. Like their ancestral apes, the humans around seemed to have no reasoning, sprinting around from station to station, doing what I can only assume was the maintenance necessary to keep this "hangar" together, it only being metal sheets held together with struts, welds, and some form of-
"Excuse me, can we help you? We've only got so many landing spots and the sooner we can clear you out to wherever the hell you're from, the better."
Broken from my disdainful review, I turned my eyes to get a better look at the human speaking. He seemed to be the image of a human mechanic- bulging with protein structures, small bright eyes constantly darting, and covered with scavenged or constructed technology. He smelled as if he had never been cleansed, the oils oozing out of every inch of his porous skin barely covered by the overpowering scents he used to cover it up.
However, my disgust was overpowered by my need. "My Warp-Core appears to have been either damaged during travel, or to be diseased in some way. I need to be able to return home rather quickly. You see, I am returning from a scientific inquiry as to a dwarf galaxy that may-"
He nodded along up until my explanation of purpose, when he proceeded to scribble something down on to a silicon tablet before turning to a group of humans who had been in a state of inactivity, quietly conversing.
"HEY, I'M NOT PAYING YOU TO LOUNGE AROUND. GET YOUR ASSES HERE, WE GOT A BROKEN WARP-CORE. IT'S A RUSH JOB, I WANT THIS THING HALFWAY TO ALPHA-CENTAURI BY LUNCH."
The volume of his vocal vibrations felt like a telepathic assault- even more so was the whirlwind of activity afterwards. My eyes expanded with awe as I watched the workers descend on my vessel. It seemed a pack of beasts tearing apart prey, a furious ripping and tearing of my ships hull to access the core. I could only stand their astounded as they violated the form of my ship, ripping and tearing out component, leaving their wires dangling from them like organs ripped from a corpse.
One of them, wearing denim on their lower body and nothing on the upper portions, leaned out of one of the cuts they had made in the hull to yell something to his companions.
"Some kind of weird biological based system, haven't seen it before. Get me the welder and some of the parts we have left over from that Guliton ship."
It took every portion of my willpower and training to not give into my anger and disgust. Guliton technology? They were a silicon based biology, and my ship was carbon! Not to mention that it was completely incompatible, with entirely different design, and several centuries behind the technology of my ship. My ship had been crafted by our greatest sculptors, a single piece of perfection, and I could feel waves of fear and anguish roll off of me in telepathic waves as I watched it's desecration, as I watched them stab it with metal nails and burn it with torches, it's very form tortured.
Suddenly, I felt a very familiar energy on the edge of my conscious. It felt like my warp core, if it had been sent through a black hole and managed to exit. It vibrated in a frequency that made it seem as it was ready to explode, the color glowing from inside the cracked and bolted carapace was crimson as opposed to the standard teal, and the hull itself seemed to have been ripped to shreds and attached together with discolored bands and sheets of metal.
The upper-body bare mechanic that had been in my vessel came over to me, teeth bared in what I can only assume to be a show of aggression.
"Well, it wasn't anything I'd seen before, but I think we got it all sorted out. Had to reverse the polarity of the neutron flows, invert the mass concentrater and a few other small things, but she should be able to take you from one side of space to the other and back again. Now, on the matter of payment."
I quickly telepathically told him the information to my bank account, and enjoyed a quiet moment of joy as he reeled back. Despite having access to telepathic neural networks for decades, humans still refused to use them except when absolutely necessary.
With trepidation I stepped back into my vessel, feeling every change and improvised solution they had made. My ship felt, as opposed to a smooth creature or work of art, like a trash heap that, through some combination of luck and prayer, seemed to work. However, it took off, and luckily I was away from that cesspool and on my way home as soon as I was able to clear their atmosphere.
Spoiler!
[–]Guybrushes 846 points 1 month ago
"I didn't mean anything by it!"
The human screwed up his face. "What's that?"
"I... I didn't mean anything!"
He tilted his head to one side. Oh my Simulator! Was that a sign of aggression?
"I didn't mean anything!"
"Anything... by what?" he asked. "I only asked what you were looking at. Was it the TV? This is my favourite show," he said. "Have you seen it?"
I stepped back. "I didn't see anything!" I said.
"Dude," the human said.
What was a dude? Would it come and claim my foetuses? They were gestating in my sac. How could I protect them? I'd only just accepted them from their mother. How could she forgive me?
He pointed at the screen. "The show. Have you seen it? It's great. It's about a cop. He plays by his own rules, but he gets the job done. You know?"
"By his..." I stuttered, "... own rules? Not the rules of the Law?"
He nodded, sipping a filthy brown liquid from an open container. "His own rules. Look at this bit. Best episode ever."
I turned my attention to the screen in deference to him. Perhaps this show of obsequious powerlessness would quell the raging fires of violence within him. Lit up by the primitive lights, I saw a human strike - strike! - another human in the face and demand to know where a missing child was. The victim of this crime asserted that he knew not where the missing child was; yet the first human struck him again. Again!
I turned away.
"The vehicle," I said. "When..." I cleared one of my throats. "When will it be ready?"
The human stepped towards me. I tried, how I tried! I tried not to flinch. The Discussion Warriors of Planthentintrix would have been proud of me. I belonged on the Stern Debating Battlefield of Fharginord alongside them - and if my salient argument should fail to stand up to cross-examination? Then to rest in the Eternal Fields of the Fallen.
"Give it an hour," the human said. "It's only a blown flange. We'll have it taped back up. It'll get you to Alpha Centuraui."
I laughed with relief. "An hour?" I asked, incredulous.
"Sure," he said. "If that. Oh, look! Look! Watch this bit. It's great."
The human on the screen raised a weapon to his victim's knee-joint. He demanded to know where the hostage was again. I gripped my abdomen in fearful anticipation. My foetuses quivered beneath. The victim, excreting droplets of effluent in fear, somehow explained where the missing child was.
"How did he come by this information?" I asked.
The human looked up at the screen. "What?" he asked. "Dude, he knew all along. He was the guy that took him."
Such deceit! Such wickedness! Packaged as entertainment and presented as enjoyment! Such...
The human on the screen hit the child-taker with the butt of his weapon. At this point, I kind of felt like he deserved it.
"What will he do now?" I asked.
The human looked at me, the corners of his mandible-less feeding hole turning upwards. "He's going to get the kid back," he said.
"Playing by the rules?" I asked, my voice tremulous.
"What?" he asked. "No, man. Of course not."
I relaxed, confused, and docile. "Dude," I said. "That's awesome."
"I didn't mean anything by it!"
The human screwed up his face. "What's that?"
"I... I didn't mean anything!"
He tilted his head to one side. Oh my Simulator! Was that a sign of aggression?
"I didn't mean anything!"
"Anything... by what?" he asked. "I only asked what you were looking at. Was it the TV? This is my favourite show," he said. "Have you seen it?"
I stepped back. "I didn't see anything!" I said.
"Dude," the human said.
What was a dude? Would it come and claim my foetuses? They were gestating in my sac. How could I protect them? I'd only just accepted them from their mother. How could she forgive me?
He pointed at the screen. "The show. Have you seen it? It's great. It's about a cop. He plays by his own rules, but he gets the job done. You know?"
"By his..." I stuttered, "... own rules? Not the rules of the Law?"
He nodded, sipping a filthy brown liquid from an open container. "His own rules. Look at this bit. Best episode ever."
I turned my attention to the screen in deference to him. Perhaps this show of obsequious powerlessness would quell the raging fires of violence within him. Lit up by the primitive lights, I saw a human strike - strike! - another human in the face and demand to know where a missing child was. The victim of this crime asserted that he knew not where the missing child was; yet the first human struck him again. Again!
I turned away.
"The vehicle," I said. "When..." I cleared one of my throats. "When will it be ready?"
The human stepped towards me. I tried, how I tried! I tried not to flinch. The Discussion Warriors of Planthentintrix would have been proud of me. I belonged on the Stern Debating Battlefield of Fharginord alongside them - and if my salient argument should fail to stand up to cross-examination? Then to rest in the Eternal Fields of the Fallen.
"Give it an hour," the human said. "It's only a blown flange. We'll have it taped back up. It'll get you to Alpha Centuraui."
I laughed with relief. "An hour?" I asked, incredulous.
"Sure," he said. "If that. Oh, look! Look! Watch this bit. It's great."
The human on the screen raised a weapon to his victim's knee-joint. He demanded to know where the hostage was again. I gripped my abdomen in fearful anticipation. My foetuses quivered beneath. The victim, excreting droplets of effluent in fear, somehow explained where the missing child was.
"How did he come by this information?" I asked.
The human looked up at the screen. "What?" he asked. "Dude, he knew all along. He was the guy that took him."
Such deceit! Such wickedness! Packaged as entertainment and presented as enjoyment! Such...
The human on the screen hit the child-taker with the butt of his weapon. At this point, I kind of felt like he deserved it.
"What will he do now?" I asked.
The human looked at me, the corners of his mandible-less feeding hole turning upwards. "He's going to get the kid back," he said.
"Playing by the rules?" I asked, my voice tremulous.
"What?" he asked. "No, man. Of course not."
I relaxed, confused, and docile. "Dude," I said. "That's awesome."
Spoiler!
Xel’thor had heard the stories about these earth men, apes really, being the paragon of mechanical ingenuity, but surely those had been exaggerations. Passing through that asteroid field was a bad idea, Xel’thor thought. The power failure to the deflector shields couldn’t have come at a worse time; the impacts from those asteroids must have knocked the crystal containment system out of equilibrium. At least the two humans seemed willing enough to help, towing the cruiser to some kind of red wooden building.
“Now don’t you worry Mr. Eltho, Clem here’ll get ya all patched in no time.”
“It’s Xel’thor”
“Pardon?”
“It’s Xel’thor, Norman. See I took the time to listen and remember your name.”
“Now, there’s no need to be rude mister,” Norman replied. Xel’thor stared at Clem and Norman. Norman and Clem had been in the field when Xel’thor’s ship came crashing down, working on a large green tractor. Great, Xel’thor thought to himself. I need to make contact with my handler halfway across the sector two hours from now. And now the fate of the Osgrellian Empire rests on a man wearing grease stained overalls without a shirt and an old man in a cowboy hat.
“Clem, if it’s quite alright with you, I’d like to oversee the repairs. You see, this ship and the contents of its data safe are actually quite important. The-”
“Yeah that’s fine Mr. Elmore. You can hand me shit from my toolbox.” Clem interrupted.
“...Great….Also, it’s Xel-thor.”
Clem plugged in a work light and slid underneath the cruiser. Norman walked over to an old radio and turned it on. The sound of country music filled the old barn. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee fellas. Clem, I’ll bring you back your usual. Mr. Velcro, would you like some coffee while ya wait?”
“No”
“Alrighty then, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Xel-thor dozed off for nearly an hour when the sound of pounding metal brought him back to alertness. It appeared to Xel-thor that Clem had merely started beating the side of the cruiser with some kind of large hammer.
“What the hell are you doing to my ship?”
“See, you got quite a few dents here mister. I’m pounding them out.”
“This may be a little too complex for you earthling, by this ship is powered by a Osgrellian crystal reactor. They’re exceedingly-”
“Delicate” Clem said.
“...uhh yes. Delicate. Very delicate.”
“See I figured that. That’s why I put it over there on yonder table. Now, I may be just a humble mechanic, but seems like these dents are poking into that crystal’s containment doo-hickey. So you aint going anywhere til we get these dents fixed.”
Xel-thor stood there speechless as Norman returned with two paper cups of coffee. “Alright, I got one black for me and one double skinny orange happy-cino for you Clem.” Norman said. “So was it like ya figured Clem? Dents causing trouble with the power core’s containment system?”
“Yeah, more or less. This one had a crystal instead of the usual anti-matter though.” Clem replied, taking his coffee. “Bigger problem is with the shields. I gave the generator the old once over, but I don’t think there’s anything technically wrong with it. Looks like it might not be compatible with the ship since it’s an aftermarket model.” Both Clem and Norman stared at Xel-thor, sipping coffee.
“I was assured it was the right model….”
“Uh-huh. Betcha that salesman was more than happy to look that up for you too, huh.” Clem said.
“Now, Clem don’t be hard on the fella. Some folks is just a little slower than others.”
“I am not slow. I’m very important and am very smart.”
“Sure ya are Mr. Xel-thor. So the way I figure it, I’ll set ya up with this older spare shield generator I got, rated for a ship of your class, and I’ll hold onto this one. With parts and labor, I reckon that should square us up.” Clem said.
Fifteen minutes later, Xel-thor’s ship took off and was in orbit in a matter of seconds. Clem and Norm stood in the field looking toward the sky. “You know that fancy shield generator was rated for his ship just fine, right Clem?”
“Well of course I know that Norman. We gotta make money somehow though, Norm."
“Now don’t you worry Mr. Eltho, Clem here’ll get ya all patched in no time.”
“It’s Xel’thor”
“Pardon?”
“It’s Xel’thor, Norman. See I took the time to listen and remember your name.”
“Now, there’s no need to be rude mister,” Norman replied. Xel’thor stared at Clem and Norman. Norman and Clem had been in the field when Xel’thor’s ship came crashing down, working on a large green tractor. Great, Xel’thor thought to himself. I need to make contact with my handler halfway across the sector two hours from now. And now the fate of the Osgrellian Empire rests on a man wearing grease stained overalls without a shirt and an old man in a cowboy hat.
“Clem, if it’s quite alright with you, I’d like to oversee the repairs. You see, this ship and the contents of its data safe are actually quite important. The-”
“Yeah that’s fine Mr. Elmore. You can hand me shit from my toolbox.” Clem interrupted.
“...Great….Also, it’s Xel-thor.”
Clem plugged in a work light and slid underneath the cruiser. Norman walked over to an old radio and turned it on. The sound of country music filled the old barn. “I’m gonna go grab some coffee fellas. Clem, I’ll bring you back your usual. Mr. Velcro, would you like some coffee while ya wait?”
“No”
“Alrighty then, I’ll leave you two to it.”
Xel-thor dozed off for nearly an hour when the sound of pounding metal brought him back to alertness. It appeared to Xel-thor that Clem had merely started beating the side of the cruiser with some kind of large hammer.
“What the hell are you doing to my ship?”
“See, you got quite a few dents here mister. I’m pounding them out.”
“This may be a little too complex for you earthling, by this ship is powered by a Osgrellian crystal reactor. They’re exceedingly-”
“Delicate” Clem said.
“...uhh yes. Delicate. Very delicate.”
“See I figured that. That’s why I put it over there on yonder table. Now, I may be just a humble mechanic, but seems like these dents are poking into that crystal’s containment doo-hickey. So you aint going anywhere til we get these dents fixed.”
Xel-thor stood there speechless as Norman returned with two paper cups of coffee. “Alright, I got one black for me and one double skinny orange happy-cino for you Clem.” Norman said. “So was it like ya figured Clem? Dents causing trouble with the power core’s containment system?”
“Yeah, more or less. This one had a crystal instead of the usual anti-matter though.” Clem replied, taking his coffee. “Bigger problem is with the shields. I gave the generator the old once over, but I don’t think there’s anything technically wrong with it. Looks like it might not be compatible with the ship since it’s an aftermarket model.” Both Clem and Norman stared at Xel-thor, sipping coffee.
“I was assured it was the right model….”
“Uh-huh. Betcha that salesman was more than happy to look that up for you too, huh.” Clem said.
“Now, Clem don’t be hard on the fella. Some folks is just a little slower than others.”
“I am not slow. I’m very important and am very smart.”
“Sure ya are Mr. Xel-thor. So the way I figure it, I’ll set ya up with this older spare shield generator I got, rated for a ship of your class, and I’ll hold onto this one. With parts and labor, I reckon that should square us up.” Clem said.
Fifteen minutes later, Xel-thor’s ship took off and was in orbit in a matter of seconds. Clem and Norm stood in the field looking toward the sky. “You know that fancy shield generator was rated for his ship just fine, right Clem?”
“Well of course I know that Norman. We gotta make money somehow though, Norm."
Spoiler!
[–]AsciiFace 159 points 1 month ago*
"You, you fixed?!" I asked incredulously, barking through the human's rudimentary language as best I could. The squat young human had red hair, and sucked on some sort of ground leaf when he worked. He was the only human mechanic on the station, and the cheapest out of all of them.
"Well, yeah. Once you tear the thing apart it ain't all that bad. Took a lil while to figure out them circuits of yers but after some experimentin it was easy to tell it was just a capacitor that was blown. Took me long enough to find one of our own that would fit, and then it was a real doosy connecting er up since I can't solder to yer biocells. Anyways, she's fit as a fiddle now." he rambled, stopping only briefly to take an oversized bite of his disgusting wheat and soured bovine excrete meal.
"Capacitor?" I asked, unfamiliar with the word.
"Yeah, you know. Charges up all that juice yer biocells are putting out so it can dump the whole lot of it all at once. You got millions of em, took forever to find the right one, all hooked up to them giant biocells in there. Sorta reminded me of them things I worked on back home growing up, we had them biocells in our tractors. Think we got em from you, us humans I mean not my farm. n`eways, I then hooked up to that big ol engine of some sort, I know it's not yer main engine - being as I did some work to that too. Man if I had a full week wi-"
"You fix main engine? What!?" I yelled, gasping infuriated chirps native to my people. "I ask simple fix, not engine! Human no place in engine!"
"Well I hadda. It didn't like the capacitor."
I stormed up the gangway, and into the control room. My cloak billowed behind me, quite dramatically I mused. I toggled several pre-flight switches and observed the metrics display.
"Fwahh!?" I gasped, as the logs of the engine start up sequence scrolled past.
"See? Innit a beut?" the human asked, suddenly standing beside me and clearly satisfied with himself.
"Engine efficiency, 80%?" I asked, my voice quieted by fear. "Only achieve 20%"
"Nah, you could get one ot ot out of this puppy if yer dang artificial quantum entanglement generator were tuned up"
"You... " I couldn't form the crude human words. "Grogggt ghorrr! hiss Sheeawwwww!"
"Whoa there buddy, whats wrong?"
"You understand? Vox generator?"
"Well yeah, I mean I don't know how she does it, but I know she ain't doin it well"
This puny human, this little miscreant. He understood the vox generator, the most powerful of my peoples technologies. The collective of beings who had managed Human integration into galactic society had closely guarded the secrets of interstellar travel to cap the transportation trade. It was quite expensive for humans to travel, at almost no cost to the pilots.
"You make 100%? You fix for me?" I ask, devious thoughts bubbling into my mind. With these improvements, I could become rich.
"Sure, but it's gonna to cost ya"
"What desire?" worry tingled my senses, he may yet know more than he lets on.
"Can yall get one of those old bull-class fighters? I've been wanting to fix one up fer the moon races, can't find one round these parts without paying an arm and a snout in shippin fees" the young man said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
This was going to be easier than I thought.
As the giant offensive sloth-like creature thundered out of the control room, Peter smiled to himself. He listened until the booming footsteps faded, Krongor had left him to begin his modifications.
"Easier `an pie" he chuffed, pulling out a personal communicator.
He selected his partner in the contacts list, and a ring tone reverberated in the cramped room. His partner picked up.
"Peter, whats up?"
"I think I got sommin."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, gonna be working on one of them Vox's all week."
"Holy shit, Peter. You fuckin with me?"
"Naw, I already got a good idea whats goin on. After this week, think I can make one myself. I even got him to get me one of them Bull fighters, would be perfect for the prototype."
Note: Thank you everyone for appreciating this so much. I am really proud of myself after having written on this subreddit for several years here and there. It has made me a better writer, but still not a good one. I am going to continue trying to work on this story and world, and hopefully you get the chance to see it if I make something of it.
"You, you fixed?!" I asked incredulously, barking through the human's rudimentary language as best I could. The squat young human had red hair, and sucked on some sort of ground leaf when he worked. He was the only human mechanic on the station, and the cheapest out of all of them.
"Well, yeah. Once you tear the thing apart it ain't all that bad. Took a lil while to figure out them circuits of yers but after some experimentin it was easy to tell it was just a capacitor that was blown. Took me long enough to find one of our own that would fit, and then it was a real doosy connecting er up since I can't solder to yer biocells. Anyways, she's fit as a fiddle now." he rambled, stopping only briefly to take an oversized bite of his disgusting wheat and soured bovine excrete meal.
"Capacitor?" I asked, unfamiliar with the word.
"Yeah, you know. Charges up all that juice yer biocells are putting out so it can dump the whole lot of it all at once. You got millions of em, took forever to find the right one, all hooked up to them giant biocells in there. Sorta reminded me of them things I worked on back home growing up, we had them biocells in our tractors. Think we got em from you, us humans I mean not my farm. n`eways, I then hooked up to that big ol engine of some sort, I know it's not yer main engine - being as I did some work to that too. Man if I had a full week wi-"
"You fix main engine? What!?" I yelled, gasping infuriated chirps native to my people. "I ask simple fix, not engine! Human no place in engine!"
"Well I hadda. It didn't like the capacitor."
I stormed up the gangway, and into the control room. My cloak billowed behind me, quite dramatically I mused. I toggled several pre-flight switches and observed the metrics display.
"Fwahh!?" I gasped, as the logs of the engine start up sequence scrolled past.
"See? Innit a beut?" the human asked, suddenly standing beside me and clearly satisfied with himself.
"Engine efficiency, 80%?" I asked, my voice quieted by fear. "Only achieve 20%"
"Nah, you could get one ot ot out of this puppy if yer dang artificial quantum entanglement generator were tuned up"
"You... " I couldn't form the crude human words. "Grogggt ghorrr! hiss Sheeawwwww!"
"Whoa there buddy, whats wrong?"
"You understand? Vox generator?"
"Well yeah, I mean I don't know how she does it, but I know she ain't doin it well"
This puny human, this little miscreant. He understood the vox generator, the most powerful of my peoples technologies. The collective of beings who had managed Human integration into galactic society had closely guarded the secrets of interstellar travel to cap the transportation trade. It was quite expensive for humans to travel, at almost no cost to the pilots.
"You make 100%? You fix for me?" I ask, devious thoughts bubbling into my mind. With these improvements, I could become rich.
"Sure, but it's gonna to cost ya"
"What desire?" worry tingled my senses, he may yet know more than he lets on.
"Can yall get one of those old bull-class fighters? I've been wanting to fix one up fer the moon races, can't find one round these parts without paying an arm and a snout in shippin fees" the young man said, a hint of sadness in his voice.
This was going to be easier than I thought.
As the giant offensive sloth-like creature thundered out of the control room, Peter smiled to himself. He listened until the booming footsteps faded, Krongor had left him to begin his modifications.
"Easier `an pie" he chuffed, pulling out a personal communicator.
He selected his partner in the contacts list, and a ring tone reverberated in the cramped room. His partner picked up.
"Peter, whats up?"
"I think I got sommin."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, gonna be working on one of them Vox's all week."
"Holy shit, Peter. You fuckin with me?"
"Naw, I already got a good idea whats goin on. After this week, think I can make one myself. I even got him to get me one of them Bull fighters, would be perfect for the prototype."
Note: Thank you everyone for appreciating this so much. I am really proud of myself after having written on this subreddit for several years here and there. It has made me a better writer, but still not a good one. I am going to continue trying to work on this story and world, and hopefully you get the chance to see it if I make something of it.
Spoiler!
[–]AsciiFace 14 points 1 month ago
SOME TIME AGO...
Peter clung to the back of his father’s pant leg, hiding his face from the giant monstrosity that was barking crude english words and hissing.
His father held up a pacifying gesture to the creature, stopping the conversation before prying Peter’s hands from his leg and kneeling down to his eye level.
“What’s wrong little man? Gagnur here is a very friendly, “ he paused, smiling at the beast, “man. Who is going to do a lot of business with us so we can get the farm back on track. Alright buddy?”
Peter just smushed his face up in embarrassment, and avoided the aliens gaze as he pretended to be interested in his footprints in the dust under their feet.
“Sorry, Gagnur. Where were we?” his father offered, gesturing with his hand towards the alien.
“Spawn show fear, no damage transaction?” Gagnur asked, having notable problems forming the hard T in transaction. It came out as a hissing barking noise.
“It is quite confusing for him. Gagnur, just one of these BioCells could power our entire farm for the rest of my natural life. I am still very interested in the transaction.” Peter’s father replied, excitement outweighing his own intrinsic fear of the beast. Peter’s father had been an engineer working in the space program before the world economy collapse, forcing him to turn to farming. What was meant to be a post scarcity society had indeed experienced scarcity.
The alien species showed great ability to understand complex english sentences, however their terse and gurgled replies were often simpler than that of a toddler learning their first words.
“Good. Desire artifacts.” the beast grunted, stumbling over the plosives. He pointed with one of his clawed appendages to the Peter’s father’s cross necklace. “Good commodity return homeworld, human artifact. ”
“Oh well I `spose so.” his father replied, touching the cross on his chest. He reached behind his neck and removed the necklace, handing it to Gagnur.
“Good, first transaction good.” the beast grumbled, almost sedately compared to the uproar he produced before. He disappeared into his lander, before returning with an oil-drum shaped and sized black cylinder. A large odd looking plug was visible on one end, Peter could not imagine what plugged into it.
Peter’s father took the cylinder, and said his goodbyes to Gagnur as he walked towards their truck. Gagnur remained presumably for other customers.
“With this puppy well be in business!” his father claimed excitedly. “And I’m going to show you how to hook her up and fix her, it’s really just a fancy battery like in your toys.”
Peter smiled, his father had been teaching him how to work on things since he could remember. He had learned how to solder on his 6th birthday, and subsequently had made his first circuits.
“Ah one day, you will be a great engineer like your dad.” his father began, rubbing Peters head. That is if we ever have a place in the world again.”
SOME TIME AGO...
Peter clung to the back of his father’s pant leg, hiding his face from the giant monstrosity that was barking crude english words and hissing.
His father held up a pacifying gesture to the creature, stopping the conversation before prying Peter’s hands from his leg and kneeling down to his eye level.
“What’s wrong little man? Gagnur here is a very friendly, “ he paused, smiling at the beast, “man. Who is going to do a lot of business with us so we can get the farm back on track. Alright buddy?”
Peter just smushed his face up in embarrassment, and avoided the aliens gaze as he pretended to be interested in his footprints in the dust under their feet.
“Sorry, Gagnur. Where were we?” his father offered, gesturing with his hand towards the alien.
“Spawn show fear, no damage transaction?” Gagnur asked, having notable problems forming the hard T in transaction. It came out as a hissing barking noise.
“It is quite confusing for him. Gagnur, just one of these BioCells could power our entire farm for the rest of my natural life. I am still very interested in the transaction.” Peter’s father replied, excitement outweighing his own intrinsic fear of the beast. Peter’s father had been an engineer working in the space program before the world economy collapse, forcing him to turn to farming. What was meant to be a post scarcity society had indeed experienced scarcity.
The alien species showed great ability to understand complex english sentences, however their terse and gurgled replies were often simpler than that of a toddler learning their first words.
“Good. Desire artifacts.” the beast grunted, stumbling over the plosives. He pointed with one of his clawed appendages to the Peter’s father’s cross necklace. “Good commodity return homeworld, human artifact. ”
“Oh well I `spose so.” his father replied, touching the cross on his chest. He reached behind his neck and removed the necklace, handing it to Gagnur.
“Good, first transaction good.” the beast grumbled, almost sedately compared to the uproar he produced before. He disappeared into his lander, before returning with an oil-drum shaped and sized black cylinder. A large odd looking plug was visible on one end, Peter could not imagine what plugged into it.
Peter’s father took the cylinder, and said his goodbyes to Gagnur as he walked towards their truck. Gagnur remained presumably for other customers.
“With this puppy well be in business!” his father claimed excitedly. “And I’m going to show you how to hook her up and fix her, it’s really just a fancy battery like in your toys.”
Peter smiled, his father had been teaching him how to work on things since he could remember. He had learned how to solder on his 6th birthday, and subsequently had made his first circuits.
“Ah one day, you will be a great engineer like your dad.” his father began, rubbing Peters head. That is if we ever have a place in the world again.”
Spoiler!
Right so, we can't salvage the worm gate system, the gravitational damper is completely toast. You're lucky you were even able to limp in here today pal. But don't worry I have a new one in stock, though it's gonna cost you a pretty penny. Now the shield buffer is gonna need to be completely taken apart and reassembled, looks like half a dozen components fried, and then half your hull is scorched. Landing gear is still licked in place, luckily we've got her jacked up in the dry dock..."
I blinked, I think I understood most of that, but dry dock? Did he mean out in the vacuum of space where my ship was tied down in place by half a dozen crude chains? Uhg.... humans...
"...and then after that, we're looking probably two or three days solid work. And a lot of labor. We do take galactic credits, but... now this is just an estimate mind you, but we're going to be looking about roughly thirty g's of work her."
"erm... G's?" I asked, puzzled by the crude simple language. Humans were notorious for it, they loved their damned double meanings and idioms.
"Oh, right, sorry, 30,000 credits."
I groaned. I could almost buy a decent condition used ship for that price, but it wasn't a Stelarian Sunridge Racer, the fastest, most complex, ships in the galaxies. I wasn't even sure there was anything here on this backwater ape ran planet that would even get me half way across this wretched galaxy. "Right, right." I held out my chip, he swiped it, contract agreed. I flopped down onto the chair and buried my head in my hands.
X-51, there are.... creatures crawling over me. Preparing self defense systems.
Oh no, the ship would not be happy about this, not one bit. 'No! No! No! Abort!' I mentally waved as loud as I could to the ship. 'DO NOT HURT THEM! THEY'RE GOING TO REPAIR YOU!'
But X-51, these primitive creatures could no way repair me... I am fully autonomous and more than capable of completely all necessary repairs within 12 cycles...
I groaned again. Damn ships, damn AIs. It didn't have any sense of time, no way to know that 12 cycles was nearly half a lifetime for my species. It was probably several generations for these primitive apes, who, apparently claimed they could fix it in a couple... days...? "Hey, ap... human , what are your days in galactic standard?"
The ape hesitated, then checked his computer. "You go by one cycle as one rotation of the galaxy, right?"
I nodded. "Yyyyup, that's the standard time frame. I know it's inconveniently long for some of the more.... shorter lived races."
The ape nodded. "Right so... my computer here says it's 1.14 times 10 to the negative 11 cycles."
The apes are.... inside me now. I hope you are happy X-51.
The sarcasm of the AI almost interrupted the shock of just how small of a unit of time that was. "You... truly, that fast?"
The ape only blinked at me, "well... yeah... there's some complicated stuff to do but it's not that bad."
Status report, damaged systems have been removed: wormhole generation system, shield systems, hull panels 2C through 15F, power core... I am now running off of emergency batteries.
"Hey can your guys take a look at my AI as well? He's been acting a little funny."
The ape typed away more at his primitive computer and stroked his chin. "Erm... we could switch the whole system out but I don't think any of us are really god with... looking over an AI. Last time we plugged one of those into our network it got distracted by the internet."
Oh yes... the internet, the very very infamous earth computer network that was reported to have... everything on it. Some alien races that had visited the world had been known to install hyperspace computer links so they could have instant access to the supposedly ludicrously addictive center of faux knowledge and whatever the great abyss dank memes were. All this from a species that still relied on a completely natural organ for thinking. It was a good thing they hadn't yet spread far from their pitiful little home world. I sighed, "fine, leave him be. I'll have him looked at when I get home."
I do not need to be looked at. My hardware is thankfully located deep within the ship surrounded by several layers of hardened titanium and self contained power subsystem that managed to survive you bouncing your ship off the gravitational well of a small yellow star.
I sighed and moved over towards the view port to look out at my ship. The primitive station in much too dangerously low orbit still relied on centrifugal force to provide the sense of gravity. Outside apes in their protective suits, their skin apparently not able to cope with vacuum had half the ship apart now. The sparks of welding, arced off of the hull. They didn't even have the ability to mold equipment together with molecular lathes!
I must report my third and fourth landing servo attachment guides have been placed with adhesive tape
I groaned, mentally cast, 'allow the humans all access they need and don't interfere with anything. That's an order.' then terminated my mental connection with the ship. I don't think I can take this anymore, perhaps I should go try this internet thing to distract me for a few of these 'days' they have.
I blinked, I think I understood most of that, but dry dock? Did he mean out in the vacuum of space where my ship was tied down in place by half a dozen crude chains? Uhg.... humans...
"...and then after that, we're looking probably two or three days solid work. And a lot of labor. We do take galactic credits, but... now this is just an estimate mind you, but we're going to be looking about roughly thirty g's of work her."
"erm... G's?" I asked, puzzled by the crude simple language. Humans were notorious for it, they loved their damned double meanings and idioms.
"Oh, right, sorry, 30,000 credits."
I groaned. I could almost buy a decent condition used ship for that price, but it wasn't a Stelarian Sunridge Racer, the fastest, most complex, ships in the galaxies. I wasn't even sure there was anything here on this backwater ape ran planet that would even get me half way across this wretched galaxy. "Right, right." I held out my chip, he swiped it, contract agreed. I flopped down onto the chair and buried my head in my hands.
X-51, there are.... creatures crawling over me. Preparing self defense systems.
Oh no, the ship would not be happy about this, not one bit. 'No! No! No! Abort!' I mentally waved as loud as I could to the ship. 'DO NOT HURT THEM! THEY'RE GOING TO REPAIR YOU!'
But X-51, these primitive creatures could no way repair me... I am fully autonomous and more than capable of completely all necessary repairs within 12 cycles...
I groaned again. Damn ships, damn AIs. It didn't have any sense of time, no way to know that 12 cycles was nearly half a lifetime for my species. It was probably several generations for these primitive apes, who, apparently claimed they could fix it in a couple... days...? "Hey, ap... human , what are your days in galactic standard?"
The ape hesitated, then checked his computer. "You go by one cycle as one rotation of the galaxy, right?"
I nodded. "Yyyyup, that's the standard time frame. I know it's inconveniently long for some of the more.... shorter lived races."
The ape nodded. "Right so... my computer here says it's 1.14 times 10 to the negative 11 cycles."
The apes are.... inside me now. I hope you are happy X-51.
The sarcasm of the AI almost interrupted the shock of just how small of a unit of time that was. "You... truly, that fast?"
The ape only blinked at me, "well... yeah... there's some complicated stuff to do but it's not that bad."
Status report, damaged systems have been removed: wormhole generation system, shield systems, hull panels 2C through 15F, power core... I am now running off of emergency batteries.
"Hey can your guys take a look at my AI as well? He's been acting a little funny."
The ape typed away more at his primitive computer and stroked his chin. "Erm... we could switch the whole system out but I don't think any of us are really god with... looking over an AI. Last time we plugged one of those into our network it got distracted by the internet."
Oh yes... the internet, the very very infamous earth computer network that was reported to have... everything on it. Some alien races that had visited the world had been known to install hyperspace computer links so they could have instant access to the supposedly ludicrously addictive center of faux knowledge and whatever the great abyss dank memes were. All this from a species that still relied on a completely natural organ for thinking. It was a good thing they hadn't yet spread far from their pitiful little home world. I sighed, "fine, leave him be. I'll have him looked at when I get home."
I do not need to be looked at. My hardware is thankfully located deep within the ship surrounded by several layers of hardened titanium and self contained power subsystem that managed to survive you bouncing your ship off the gravitational well of a small yellow star.
I sighed and moved over towards the view port to look out at my ship. The primitive station in much too dangerously low orbit still relied on centrifugal force to provide the sense of gravity. Outside apes in their protective suits, their skin apparently not able to cope with vacuum had half the ship apart now. The sparks of welding, arced off of the hull. They didn't even have the ability to mold equipment together with molecular lathes!
I must report my third and fourth landing servo attachment guides have been placed with adhesive tape
I groaned, mentally cast, 'allow the humans all access they need and don't interfere with anything. That's an order.' then terminated my mental connection with the ship. I don't think I can take this anymore, perhaps I should go try this internet thing to distract me for a few of these 'days' they have.
Spoiler!
It is said that on earth, when something breaks, everyone inexplicably becomes an expert.
Xlargok thought it was pure magic.
Just watching the creatures argue was a spectacle of its own, and Xlargok was glad he had brought his galacticom to translate it all.
"No, you gotta turn it the other way," a burly human was saying. "Here, give me the screwdriver-"
"I think it's not actually a screw," another human spoke up, eliciting deadpan stares from the other three humans. Perhaps, Xlargok considered, her mammary glands indicated a lack of the strange gift the other three humans seemed to possess.
"Naw, I reckon the crash must'a broken the glimmery bit loose, here, this part that's all beeping without sound somehow."
The burly man scratched his head, and gave the bit a bang with the screwdriver for good measure. Xlargok waved a tentacle in amazement. Somehow, the man had just banged on the hyperdrive without blowing a good chunk out of their planet. Truly amazing.
"So you were just driving by, eh, mister err...?" The third man held his thumbs underneath his suspenders and looked at the alien expectantly.
"Xlargok," Xlargok beamed the word into their minds using his mental gland.
"Right, right, xander. Fancy costume you got there. Don't worry, we'll fix up your car in no time."
"It's all the gadgets that he's put on it that's probably caused this in the first place," the burly man muttered, and the other two hummed their agreement.
"Isn't it that part there that looks even more odd than the rest?" The mammary human spoke up. "Honestly, I still think there's something very fishy about this whole-"
The other three shushed her. "Don't be rude now, Jane," the man with the suspenders said in a tone that Xlargok assumed entailed some local cultural significance.
The burly human turned to the lightspeed warp and gave it a good bang, and suddenly the control panel lit up again. Xlargok enthusiastically clapped his hands, all six of them.
"That did it," the man said triumphantly.
"Hey, you just hit the part that I told you was odd!" the mammary human said indignantly, but the other three ignored her.
"Thank you, humans." Xlargok beamed at them, pleased with the adjustments. He got into the minimization room of his ship, kicking off the anti-gravity and soaring off.
The four humans stared at the sky for a while after he had disappeared, saying nothing.
"Strange fella," one of them concluded finally. "Must'a been from New York or sumthin'."
Xlargok thought it was pure magic.
Just watching the creatures argue was a spectacle of its own, and Xlargok was glad he had brought his galacticom to translate it all.
"No, you gotta turn it the other way," a burly human was saying. "Here, give me the screwdriver-"
"I think it's not actually a screw," another human spoke up, eliciting deadpan stares from the other three humans. Perhaps, Xlargok considered, her mammary glands indicated a lack of the strange gift the other three humans seemed to possess.
"Naw, I reckon the crash must'a broken the glimmery bit loose, here, this part that's all beeping without sound somehow."
The burly man scratched his head, and gave the bit a bang with the screwdriver for good measure. Xlargok waved a tentacle in amazement. Somehow, the man had just banged on the hyperdrive without blowing a good chunk out of their planet. Truly amazing.
"So you were just driving by, eh, mister err...?" The third man held his thumbs underneath his suspenders and looked at the alien expectantly.
"Xlargok," Xlargok beamed the word into their minds using his mental gland.
"Right, right, xander. Fancy costume you got there. Don't worry, we'll fix up your car in no time."
"It's all the gadgets that he's put on it that's probably caused this in the first place," the burly man muttered, and the other two hummed their agreement.
"Isn't it that part there that looks even more odd than the rest?" The mammary human spoke up. "Honestly, I still think there's something very fishy about this whole-"
The other three shushed her. "Don't be rude now, Jane," the man with the suspenders said in a tone that Xlargok assumed entailed some local cultural significance.
The burly human turned to the lightspeed warp and gave it a good bang, and suddenly the control panel lit up again. Xlargok enthusiastically clapped his hands, all six of them.
"That did it," the man said triumphantly.
"Hey, you just hit the part that I told you was odd!" the mammary human said indignantly, but the other three ignored her.
"Thank you, humans." Xlargok beamed at them, pleased with the adjustments. He got into the minimization room of his ship, kicking off the anti-gravity and soaring off.
The four humans stared at the sky for a while after he had disappeared, saying nothing.
"Strange fella," one of them concluded finally. "Must'a been from New York or sumthin'."
Spoiler!
[–]Spoon_stick 108 points 1 month ago*
Zarp's pleasant cruise of the Milky Way was interrupted by his ship's robotic voice.
85 seconds of flight time remaining, land immediately and commence repairs.
"WHY?!" Zarp screamed helplessly at his ship. He had no idea what was wrong, and that really irked him. As a people, the Roflings pride themselves on intelligence. But for some reason, repairing a ship was beyond them - or more accurately, beneath them.
Manual driving disabled. Destination set for 'Jim's ship repairs', Australian Outback, Earth.
"No not Earth!" Zarp cursed to himself, knowing that he didn't have time to visit a more civilized mechanic shop. He had heard terrifying stories about Earthlings. Their primitive behavior was the butt of many Galactic jokes. However, they seemed to excel at repairing ships.
Zarp's ship touched down with a magnetic thrum. He tentatively approached the shop. Zarp glanced around him, suddenly wary of being ambushed. Barren desert land stretched all around, Jim's shop the only building in sight. Corroded metallic structures littered the surrounding land like corpses after a great battle. Two huge earthlings were perched on the end of a land ship; small smoking sticks held away from their bodies with thick meaty arms. Zarp gasped as they drew the smoldering cylinders up to their mouths and inhaled. Must be some sort of primal assertion of dominance, Zarp thought as he noticed the two apes sizing him up.
Zarp knew how a business worked though, so he swallowed his fear and approached the earthlings. The larger of the two men jumped to his feet and approached him; one of his muscled arms stretched outwards, pointing directly at Zarp.
"I mean you no harm!" squealed Zarp as he recoiled in fear. "I just wanted my ship repaired!"
"Relax mate!" The Australian man grinned happily, "name's Jim. Was just gonna shake your hand."
"Oh of course, I forgot about that ritual. I am Zarp." Zarp looked at the ground, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed.
"No worries! Lets take a look at your ship!" Jim walked confidently over to the ship and started examining it.
Zarp watched in amazement as this being he thought of as stupid and primitive navigated his way around his ship more fluently than any Rofling he knew. Jim was checking oil consistencies and analyzing atmosphere containment. Zarp was impressed as he noticed Jim using all his senses to help diagnose the problem. He was smelling the gravity thrusters, listening to the warp shields power up, and using his skin to feel if things were fitted correctly. Zarp realized he had seriously underestimated the earthling's skill. He watched in awe while Jim danced around his ship with a subtlety and finesse that betrayed his appearance.
"This things farked!" Jim said finally as he pulled a scorched proton aggressor from the ships belly. "We'll chuck a new one in there and you should be sweet."
Zarp powered up his new ship.
Repairs complete. Ready for flight
Feeling completely at ease now, Zarp remembered some of Earth's hand gestures. Looking at Jim, he pointed his thumb at the roof as the ship gently lifted off the ground.
Zarp's pleasant cruise of the Milky Way was interrupted by his ship's robotic voice.
85 seconds of flight time remaining, land immediately and commence repairs.
"WHY?!" Zarp screamed helplessly at his ship. He had no idea what was wrong, and that really irked him. As a people, the Roflings pride themselves on intelligence. But for some reason, repairing a ship was beyond them - or more accurately, beneath them.
Manual driving disabled. Destination set for 'Jim's ship repairs', Australian Outback, Earth.
"No not Earth!" Zarp cursed to himself, knowing that he didn't have time to visit a more civilized mechanic shop. He had heard terrifying stories about Earthlings. Their primitive behavior was the butt of many Galactic jokes. However, they seemed to excel at repairing ships.
Zarp's ship touched down with a magnetic thrum. He tentatively approached the shop. Zarp glanced around him, suddenly wary of being ambushed. Barren desert land stretched all around, Jim's shop the only building in sight. Corroded metallic structures littered the surrounding land like corpses after a great battle. Two huge earthlings were perched on the end of a land ship; small smoking sticks held away from their bodies with thick meaty arms. Zarp gasped as they drew the smoldering cylinders up to their mouths and inhaled. Must be some sort of primal assertion of dominance, Zarp thought as he noticed the two apes sizing him up.
Zarp knew how a business worked though, so he swallowed his fear and approached the earthlings. The larger of the two men jumped to his feet and approached him; one of his muscled arms stretched outwards, pointing directly at Zarp.
"I mean you no harm!" squealed Zarp as he recoiled in fear. "I just wanted my ship repaired!"
"Relax mate!" The Australian man grinned happily, "name's Jim. Was just gonna shake your hand."
"Oh of course, I forgot about that ritual. I am Zarp." Zarp looked at the ground, feeling both relieved and slightly embarrassed.
"No worries! Lets take a look at your ship!" Jim walked confidently over to the ship and started examining it.
Zarp watched in amazement as this being he thought of as stupid and primitive navigated his way around his ship more fluently than any Rofling he knew. Jim was checking oil consistencies and analyzing atmosphere containment. Zarp was impressed as he noticed Jim using all his senses to help diagnose the problem. He was smelling the gravity thrusters, listening to the warp shields power up, and using his skin to feel if things were fitted correctly. Zarp realized he had seriously underestimated the earthling's skill. He watched in awe while Jim danced around his ship with a subtlety and finesse that betrayed his appearance.
"This things farked!" Jim said finally as he pulled a scorched proton aggressor from the ships belly. "We'll chuck a new one in there and you should be sweet."
Zarp powered up his new ship.
Repairs complete. Ready for flight
Feeling completely at ease now, Zarp remembered some of Earth's hand gestures. Looking at Jim, he pointed his thumb at the roof as the ship gently lifted off the ground.
Spoiler!
Dex and Neil
"Ayy, are you..." He interrupted himself as he sloppily chewed a giant wad of gum with those giant white gnashers one called molars. "... Dexter Higgins?" "No, good fellow, my name is Dextrodicus Hignosticus, of Gliza." The ape furrowed his massive brow, big, brown, dopey eyes gazing at me with an intense confusion I had not ever seen in anything but house pets. He spit out his gum into the sand, and I impulsively took a half step back. "I'mm'a call you Dexter." "No, no, that's not my..." I stopped myself. If I overexerted him, he might have an aneurism. Or worse, I'd give myself one. "Fine. Yes. 'Dexter Higgins'. And what's your name?" The human paused, as if taking time to consider his answer, to make sure he didn't get it wrong. "Neil." I didn't have much of a response. "Oh", was all I could muster. Neil have me a skeptical frown. "So, what happened to the ship, Dex?" "Uh, what?" The human sighed. "Your ship... It crashed." I nodded. "Oh, yes, indeed." "That's it, over there?" He pointed to my ship, its chrome finish glistening in the Martian sun, the beautiful curve'd saucer hardly scratched by the less-than-stellar landing I had had only hours ago. "Yes, Neil." "What, you dropped outta orbit?" "Yes, my consoles died, and I had to maneuver into an aerial skid, in order to-" "Don't need your life story, Dex." How rude indeed. He neared the ship, and I followed, just to make sure he didn't make off with anything important to me. He put his hands behind his back, and paced around the ship, eying it from every angle. He scratched that strange, out of place patch of fur all humans seemed to have on their heads as his stout body bent down to examine the exposed Deuterium Converter. He must have sensed my three eyes watching him, because he turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Somethin on your mind, chief?" "No, human. Carry on." "Cool." He was silent for a second, then: "Y'all look funny?" "Beg pardon?" "Glizans. Y'all got them three tiny black eyes on that huge forehead. It looks weird on that long, thin body, you know? Like, how do y'all hold your head up?" "Well, it's how I hatched, Neil." "Y'all hatch like birds?" "If it helps you understand, yes." Neil nodded, and turned back to the ship. I couldn't help notice his own odd frame, now that it had been brought up. My species were, unlike humans, tall, thin, often described as graceful, or elegant. Humans were different. Their blocky, clumsy shapes seemed evolutionarily disastrous. The Glizans might seem far superior to the average onlooker, and we arguably were in every conceivable sense. Humans had no hive consciousness, no natural camouflage, no naturally occurring thermal vision, no telekinetic powers, etcetera. But as Neil stuck out his arms to fiddle with the Deuterium Converter, the reason for the Human species' continued existence became apparent: fingers, five on each hand. Glizans as a species only had two fingers per hand, and no thumbs. And while their telekinetic powers did a great deal to compensate, it did little to compare to the precision of those slender digits the humans possessed. That, combined with their level of intellect, however low it may have been, allowed them to solve the complex puzzles of nature, and conquer their planet, rising to the stars among the other sentient races. I was torn from my train of thought as Neil approached me. "Have you tried turning it on and off again?" "I... What?" "Nothin'", he said, turning back to the ship. He was suddenly struck with an idea, as I noticed a smile creep across his face. Confidently, he waltzed up to the ship, and, raising his boot high in the air behind him, put all his might into a tremendous kick that shook it like a tin can. "What the hell are you--?" I didn't have time to finish the sentence. With a wailing and a whirring, the ship sprang to life, and began hovering off the ground, prepped for me to enter from below. "I..." "No need to thank me", Neil smiled, tipping an imaginary hat. "That'll be five hundred bucks."
"Ayy, are you..." He interrupted himself as he sloppily chewed a giant wad of gum with those giant white gnashers one called molars. "... Dexter Higgins?" "No, good fellow, my name is Dextrodicus Hignosticus, of Gliza." The ape furrowed his massive brow, big, brown, dopey eyes gazing at me with an intense confusion I had not ever seen in anything but house pets. He spit out his gum into the sand, and I impulsively took a half step back. "I'mm'a call you Dexter." "No, no, that's not my..." I stopped myself. If I overexerted him, he might have an aneurism. Or worse, I'd give myself one. "Fine. Yes. 'Dexter Higgins'. And what's your name?" The human paused, as if taking time to consider his answer, to make sure he didn't get it wrong. "Neil." I didn't have much of a response. "Oh", was all I could muster. Neil have me a skeptical frown. "So, what happened to the ship, Dex?" "Uh, what?" The human sighed. "Your ship... It crashed." I nodded. "Oh, yes, indeed." "That's it, over there?" He pointed to my ship, its chrome finish glistening in the Martian sun, the beautiful curve'd saucer hardly scratched by the less-than-stellar landing I had had only hours ago. "Yes, Neil." "What, you dropped outta orbit?" "Yes, my consoles died, and I had to maneuver into an aerial skid, in order to-" "Don't need your life story, Dex." How rude indeed. He neared the ship, and I followed, just to make sure he didn't make off with anything important to me. He put his hands behind his back, and paced around the ship, eying it from every angle. He scratched that strange, out of place patch of fur all humans seemed to have on their heads as his stout body bent down to examine the exposed Deuterium Converter. He must have sensed my three eyes watching him, because he turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "Somethin on your mind, chief?" "No, human. Carry on." "Cool." He was silent for a second, then: "Y'all look funny?" "Beg pardon?" "Glizans. Y'all got them three tiny black eyes on that huge forehead. It looks weird on that long, thin body, you know? Like, how do y'all hold your head up?" "Well, it's how I hatched, Neil." "Y'all hatch like birds?" "If it helps you understand, yes." Neil nodded, and turned back to the ship. I couldn't help notice his own odd frame, now that it had been brought up. My species were, unlike humans, tall, thin, often described as graceful, or elegant. Humans were different. Their blocky, clumsy shapes seemed evolutionarily disastrous. The Glizans might seem far superior to the average onlooker, and we arguably were in every conceivable sense. Humans had no hive consciousness, no natural camouflage, no naturally occurring thermal vision, no telekinetic powers, etcetera. But as Neil stuck out his arms to fiddle with the Deuterium Converter, the reason for the Human species' continued existence became apparent: fingers, five on each hand. Glizans as a species only had two fingers per hand, and no thumbs. And while their telekinetic powers did a great deal to compensate, it did little to compare to the precision of those slender digits the humans possessed. That, combined with their level of intellect, however low it may have been, allowed them to solve the complex puzzles of nature, and conquer their planet, rising to the stars among the other sentient races. I was torn from my train of thought as Neil approached me. "Have you tried turning it on and off again?" "I... What?" "Nothin'", he said, turning back to the ship. He was suddenly struck with an idea, as I noticed a smile creep across his face. Confidently, he waltzed up to the ship, and, raising his boot high in the air behind him, put all his might into a tremendous kick that shook it like a tin can. "What the hell are you--?" I didn't have time to finish the sentence. With a wailing and a whirring, the ship sprang to life, and began hovering off the ground, prepped for me to enter from below. "I..." "No need to thank me", Neil smiled, tipping an imaginary hat. "That'll be five hundred bucks."
Spoiler!
I blinked my fourth eye that was underneath the broken DeepSpaceCraft as a drop of liquid lubricant fell on it blurring my vision in that eye for a moment.
"Pretty sure it's a leaky lube tube down there that's causing the trouble," I said to the human mechanic.
The human stopped scratching his facial carbon outgrowth and looked at me, the strange alien with the freely-moving body parts, in a non-threatening but uncomfortable manner.
"How do y'all have sex?"
Really these filthy creatures can only ever think of procreation. Isn't there enough of them on this planet now for them to stop worrying about species growth? One would say, yes. One would also think these creatures would go easy on their procreation drive but it seemed like there was some sort of fault in their programming that even after filling up their home planet to the point that there were now human refugees in all corners of the galaxy, all that they ever think about is that. Procreation.
"Umm, we let our creative assets mingle in a procreation capsule every twenty four months."
"You mean to say you have sex once in two years and you don't even get to be there?" His speaking part bent awkwardly at the edges indicating he was finding humour in my description of my species' procreative practices.
"Yes," I replied testily, "can you fix this or what?"
"Sure I can fix it." He replied in a straightforward manner, "I just need some size 74 spark plugs from your dealer and the socket wrench. Mine broke last night fixing another one of your crafts."
"That must have been Ben. He's always buzzing around in this area."
"Aye, Ben. The ladies love Ben. They say his tongue goes places nothing else has ever been."
"I am sure that is so," I replied vaguely and placed the order for the spark plugs.
"Say what's your name?"
"Chad."
"Ok Chad, see here's the thing. Before I get your craft fixed you got to do me a favour."
I looked up at him with what I hoped would be their version of a crushing glare.
"What is it?"
"Could you have one of your eyes up my butthole and see if I've got anything strange growing there like a tumour or something?"
I sighed in relief.
"That will be possible. You have to clean it later though."
"No problem. Gee thanks, Chad. Not a lot of humans would consider that appropriate."
"It's ok, umm guy. It is just your body. It's like you help me fix my craft and I check out if there is a tumour in your anus."
"Pretty sure it's a leaky lube tube down there that's causing the trouble," I said to the human mechanic.
The human stopped scratching his facial carbon outgrowth and looked at me, the strange alien with the freely-moving body parts, in a non-threatening but uncomfortable manner.
"How do y'all have sex?"
Really these filthy creatures can only ever think of procreation. Isn't there enough of them on this planet now for them to stop worrying about species growth? One would say, yes. One would also think these creatures would go easy on their procreation drive but it seemed like there was some sort of fault in their programming that even after filling up their home planet to the point that there were now human refugees in all corners of the galaxy, all that they ever think about is that. Procreation.
"Umm, we let our creative assets mingle in a procreation capsule every twenty four months."
"You mean to say you have sex once in two years and you don't even get to be there?" His speaking part bent awkwardly at the edges indicating he was finding humour in my description of my species' procreative practices.
"Yes," I replied testily, "can you fix this or what?"
"Sure I can fix it." He replied in a straightforward manner, "I just need some size 74 spark plugs from your dealer and the socket wrench. Mine broke last night fixing another one of your crafts."
"That must have been Ben. He's always buzzing around in this area."
"Aye, Ben. The ladies love Ben. They say his tongue goes places nothing else has ever been."
"I am sure that is so," I replied vaguely and placed the order for the spark plugs.
"Say what's your name?"
"Chad."
"Ok Chad, see here's the thing. Before I get your craft fixed you got to do me a favour."
I looked up at him with what I hoped would be their version of a crushing glare.
"What is it?"
"Could you have one of your eyes up my butthole and see if I've got anything strange growing there like a tumour or something?"
I sighed in relief.
"That will be possible. You have to clean it later though."
"No problem. Gee thanks, Chad. Not a lot of humans would consider that appropriate."
"It's ok, umm guy. It is just your body. It's like you help me fix my craft and I check out if there is a tumour in your anus."
Spoiler!
[–]rockeh 46 points 1 month ago*
The creature's thought patterns were simple. Its intelligence... call it a very indulgent average. Speech networks were rudimentary at best.
And yet, it seemed to understand what was wrong with the drive. SELF understood the creature's understanding, despite not understanding the drive. SELF was Explorer, SELF's whole existence geared towards discovery and assessment. Other minds had created the ship, the practical expression of discoveries and philosophies dreamt up by yet others.
And this primitive understood how it worked and what was sub-optimal about a technological artifact millions of years more advanced (local star-relative years). The thought unsettled SELF. It did not fit within SELF's worldview. A species had certain parameters within which it expanded its knowledge and understanding, and the creature's species was well below the threshold at which they could begin to comprehend the processes that bypassed the constraints of space-time.
The creature shouted, gleeful triumph with a strong undercurrent of frustration directed at the ship's drive, an orifice on the shortest limb causing some vibration of the atmosphere. This happened every time the creature shouted, while normal speech was a jumbled mess that SELF sensed would be better left unparsed. Its speech was chaotic and veered from subject to subject every few seconds.
Its habit to cause atmospheric vibrations, most unconnected to its speech, was also disturbing.
Still, SELF did not sense any ill-will from the creature, only the frustration of a faulty drive and the glee at, possibly, being in the presence of a far more advanced mind.
It crawled out of the open hatch and selected a tool from a nearby container, returned to the hatch, and began twisting one of the color-coded rods. It spoke of dissatisfaction, then, abandoning the tool, cast around on the ground for something -- it knew not what, only a concept of utility in its mind.
It selected a rock.
Not a tool, not something to make a tool, not something useful in any capacity in a star-ship. A rock. It crawled with the rock back into the hatch, and began to pound at one end of the casing.
SELF observed. This volume was well-charted, but a direct observation of one of the native life forms was still valuable. This, despite a total lack of mutual understanding of the processes at work.
The creature exited the ship, screaming its success, the associations inferred from the vibrations being of biological and moral correctitude, yet applied to the ship. SELF pondered the meanings, and decided to privately lower its estimate of the creature's intelligence.
SELF slid into the ship, and felt shock. The ship's systems responded several pulses faster than before the accident -- which shouldn't have been possible, as the ship had been brand-new. SELF shot out of the atmosphere, feeling giddy at the smoothness of the ship's responses. SELF decided to ignore the unease caused by the ease with which the primitive had solved a problem too hard for an advanced mind.
"And what did you do at the park today, sweetie?"
"I fixted starfish!"
"You fixed a starfish?"
"Yes! It felled outta the sky! And I fixted it! It was broken and a icky spider came out of it and it was sad cause the starfish was broken and I fixted it!"
"Well aren't you a clever little munchkin. How about some ice cream, Engineer Munchkin?"
"Yay!"
The creature's thought patterns were simple. Its intelligence... call it a very indulgent average. Speech networks were rudimentary at best.
And yet, it seemed to understand what was wrong with the drive. SELF understood the creature's understanding, despite not understanding the drive. SELF was Explorer, SELF's whole existence geared towards discovery and assessment. Other minds had created the ship, the practical expression of discoveries and philosophies dreamt up by yet others.
And this primitive understood how it worked and what was sub-optimal about a technological artifact millions of years more advanced (local star-relative years). The thought unsettled SELF. It did not fit within SELF's worldview. A species had certain parameters within which it expanded its knowledge and understanding, and the creature's species was well below the threshold at which they could begin to comprehend the processes that bypassed the constraints of space-time.
The creature shouted, gleeful triumph with a strong undercurrent of frustration directed at the ship's drive, an orifice on the shortest limb causing some vibration of the atmosphere. This happened every time the creature shouted, while normal speech was a jumbled mess that SELF sensed would be better left unparsed. Its speech was chaotic and veered from subject to subject every few seconds.
Its habit to cause atmospheric vibrations, most unconnected to its speech, was also disturbing.
Still, SELF did not sense any ill-will from the creature, only the frustration of a faulty drive and the glee at, possibly, being in the presence of a far more advanced mind.
It crawled out of the open hatch and selected a tool from a nearby container, returned to the hatch, and began twisting one of the color-coded rods. It spoke of dissatisfaction, then, abandoning the tool, cast around on the ground for something -- it knew not what, only a concept of utility in its mind.
It selected a rock.
Not a tool, not something to make a tool, not something useful in any capacity in a star-ship. A rock. It crawled with the rock back into the hatch, and began to pound at one end of the casing.
SELF observed. This volume was well-charted, but a direct observation of one of the native life forms was still valuable. This, despite a total lack of mutual understanding of the processes at work.
The creature exited the ship, screaming its success, the associations inferred from the vibrations being of biological and moral correctitude, yet applied to the ship. SELF pondered the meanings, and decided to privately lower its estimate of the creature's intelligence.
SELF slid into the ship, and felt shock. The ship's systems responded several pulses faster than before the accident -- which shouldn't have been possible, as the ship had been brand-new. SELF shot out of the atmosphere, feeling giddy at the smoothness of the ship's responses. SELF decided to ignore the unease caused by the ease with which the primitive had solved a problem too hard for an advanced mind.
"And what did you do at the park today, sweetie?"
"I fixted starfish!"
"You fixed a starfish?"
"Yes! It felled outta the sky! And I fixted it! It was broken and a icky spider came out of it and it was sad cause the starfish was broken and I fixted it!"
"Well aren't you a clever little munchkin. How about some ice cream, Engineer Munchkin?"
"Yay!"
Spoiler!
[–]trjones1 79 points 1 month ago
It took a few seconds for the speaker of the auto-translate to sputter to life.
"Just hit it a few times."
I asked the translator to repeat what the human had said.
"Just hit it a few times. Synonyms for 'hit' are strike, batter, impact."
Was the meat bag really asking me to physically injure the spacecraft in an attempt to make it functional? How could I even explain to the small brain that my species was non-corporeal, existing in a nether dimension where physical interaction with the craft wasn't even possible?
The human made more sound.
"Here, let me do it" the auto translator said.
Soon, the human was wriggling through the non-aqueous liquid shielding of the craft and entering the inner bio support unit. This was a grave violation of quarantine procedures.
More human sounds came from the earthling and before I could secure the very sensitive navigation crystals, he was striking the inner panels with his palm. I panicked, knowing that the slightest dislodging of the crystals would forever lose the plotting required to return to my home galaxy.
"See, you just gotta get it like this," the auto translator finally announced as the ape's hand repeatedly impacted the console. When nothing happened, he pulled out a long-handled device with steel at the end and started to strike more vigorously.
As is standard operating procedure, I charged the heat ray to neutralize the human's assault on the spacecraft. It was slow coming on line, though as the man with his primitive tool continued to hit the navigation panel and I saw my chances for returning to my far-off home slipping away.
Finally the heat ray was ready, but just before I was to discharge it on the man, the familiar hum of power cells came back. Soon, the bio chamber was bathed once again in its normal pink hue.
"See, that did it" the human said through the auto translator as he slipped through the non-aqueous liquid shielding back to the ground.
"Thank you!" I commanded the auto translator to say to the human as the now fully functional spacecraft rose off that horrible rock.
It took a few seconds for the speaker of the auto-translate to sputter to life.
"Just hit it a few times."
I asked the translator to repeat what the human had said.
"Just hit it a few times. Synonyms for 'hit' are strike, batter, impact."
Was the meat bag really asking me to physically injure the spacecraft in an attempt to make it functional? How could I even explain to the small brain that my species was non-corporeal, existing in a nether dimension where physical interaction with the craft wasn't even possible?
The human made more sound.
"Here, let me do it" the auto translator said.
Soon, the human was wriggling through the non-aqueous liquid shielding of the craft and entering the inner bio support unit. This was a grave violation of quarantine procedures.
More human sounds came from the earthling and before I could secure the very sensitive navigation crystals, he was striking the inner panels with his palm. I panicked, knowing that the slightest dislodging of the crystals would forever lose the plotting required to return to my home galaxy.
"See, you just gotta get it like this," the auto translator finally announced as the ape's hand repeatedly impacted the console. When nothing happened, he pulled out a long-handled device with steel at the end and started to strike more vigorously.
As is standard operating procedure, I charged the heat ray to neutralize the human's assault on the spacecraft. It was slow coming on line, though as the man with his primitive tool continued to hit the navigation panel and I saw my chances for returning to my far-off home slipping away.
Finally the heat ray was ready, but just before I was to discharge it on the man, the familiar hum of power cells came back. Soon, the bio chamber was bathed once again in its normal pink hue.
"See, that did it" the human said through the auto translator as he slipped through the non-aqueous liquid shielding back to the ground.
"Thank you!" I commanded the auto translator to say to the human as the now fully functional spacecraft rose off that horrible rock.
Spoiler!
[–]FlyingPlatypus314 50 points 1 month ago
Humans are far from being the smartest species in the universe, but they surely are known as the best mechanics. This fact is almost unexplainable but anything they get their hands on gets turned in a functional gadget (most of the times they get turned in weapons but let give this guys a break, they aren’t that evolved).
Even though I knew the stories, seeing this happening is a whole different thing, that’s why I stare flabbergasted as the half-evolved creature roam through my spacecraft, scattering and checking everything without a second thought, while I try to think on how to tell him to get his hands of my spacecraft I hear him say, using his ancient auto translator:
“Have you tried to turn it off and on again?”
“Why would I do that?”
“OFF and ON again!” the auto translator rang in the way you would speak to a kid, as he turned the engine off and on again almost as if hoping for a paranormal event about to happen making the engine magically start working again.
“If it didn’t work before why would it work...” before I finished the engine started.
“Stupid Alien.”
How was that possible? He wasn’t even a proper mechanic, he was an average old farmer, the typical earthborn human who thinks space travelling and diplomacy are for “young people who can’t keep their nose off things they shouldn’t mess with” and even then he fixed a topnotch spacecraft as if it was nothing much, the best spacecraft in the whole galactic fleet was fixed by an average human.
I board my spacecraft and lift off as fast as I can. As the galactic leader I always dismissed the rumors about the humans as stupid. But now I see they are not to be underestimated, we should focus all our forces in either annexing or exterminating them before the tear the universe apart.
Humans are far from being the smartest species in the universe, but they surely are known as the best mechanics. This fact is almost unexplainable but anything they get their hands on gets turned in a functional gadget (most of the times they get turned in weapons but let give this guys a break, they aren’t that evolved).
Even though I knew the stories, seeing this happening is a whole different thing, that’s why I stare flabbergasted as the half-evolved creature roam through my spacecraft, scattering and checking everything without a second thought, while I try to think on how to tell him to get his hands of my spacecraft I hear him say, using his ancient auto translator:
“Have you tried to turn it off and on again?”
“Why would I do that?”
“OFF and ON again!” the auto translator rang in the way you would speak to a kid, as he turned the engine off and on again almost as if hoping for a paranormal event about to happen making the engine magically start working again.
“If it didn’t work before why would it work...” before I finished the engine started.
“Stupid Alien.”
How was that possible? He wasn’t even a proper mechanic, he was an average old farmer, the typical earthborn human who thinks space travelling and diplomacy are for “young people who can’t keep their nose off things they shouldn’t mess with” and even then he fixed a topnotch spacecraft as if it was nothing much, the best spacecraft in the whole galactic fleet was fixed by an average human.
I board my spacecraft and lift off as fast as I can. As the galactic leader I always dismissed the rumors about the humans as stupid. But now I see they are not to be underestimated, we should focus all our forces in either annexing or exterminating them before the tear the universe apart.
Spoiler!
The human slid out from under the ship, blinking as he came back into the light. The expression on his face made me worried that I would be stuck here for even longer; I had already been on this technology-forsaken world for half a local rotation, and I had no desire to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary.
"How long's it been since ya put oil in this thing?" he asked.
I blinked.
"Ummm.... In local time...." I quickly punched some numbers into my wristband calculator. "It's been.... two thousand and sixty three rota... days."
The mechanic's eyes widened. "It's been six years since ya got yourself an oil change?! Well there's your problem! Can't imagine the hell you've been puttin' on your engine.... Well that should be an easy fix at least. Mkay, gimme ten."
Before I could ask him what "Ten" meant, he had grabbed a large black bottle and disappeared back under the ship.
A short time later he slid back out and signaled for me to climb into the cockpit. Upon seeing that I was settled, he placed a pair of headphones over his ears and told me to try to start the ship. Once again, I heard the sputtering sound of the hyperdrive failing to complete initiation. I shook my head. Another failure. And this planet was supposed to have the best mechanics.
I turned to thank him for his attempt, only to see that he had climbed up next to the window to stare in at the control panel.
"Whassat blinking light?" he asked.
I looked where he pointed. "That's the hyperdrive light, the whole reason I'm in here in the first place."
"Oh!" he said with glee. "Well why didn't ya say so? I tell ya, people come in here all the time sayin' their stuff don't work and they don't know why, when it's sayin' it right there! So, this light, it's not s'pposed to be blinking, is it?"
"Well.... No," I said, confused. "It's supposed to be solid, but that means there's a problem with the engine."
"Kid," said the mechanic with a laugh. "That ain't an engine problem, that's a computer problem. And there's only one way to fix a computer problem."
He leaned in close.
"Have you tried turning it off and on again?"
"How long's it been since ya put oil in this thing?" he asked.
I blinked.
"Ummm.... In local time...." I quickly punched some numbers into my wristband calculator. "It's been.... two thousand and sixty three rota... days."
The mechanic's eyes widened. "It's been six years since ya got yourself an oil change?! Well there's your problem! Can't imagine the hell you've been puttin' on your engine.... Well that should be an easy fix at least. Mkay, gimme ten."
Before I could ask him what "Ten" meant, he had grabbed a large black bottle and disappeared back under the ship.
A short time later he slid back out and signaled for me to climb into the cockpit. Upon seeing that I was settled, he placed a pair of headphones over his ears and told me to try to start the ship. Once again, I heard the sputtering sound of the hyperdrive failing to complete initiation. I shook my head. Another failure. And this planet was supposed to have the best mechanics.
I turned to thank him for his attempt, only to see that he had climbed up next to the window to stare in at the control panel.
"Whassat blinking light?" he asked.
I looked where he pointed. "That's the hyperdrive light, the whole reason I'm in here in the first place."
"Oh!" he said with glee. "Well why didn't ya say so? I tell ya, people come in here all the time sayin' their stuff don't work and they don't know why, when it's sayin' it right there! So, this light, it's not s'pposed to be blinking, is it?"
"Well.... No," I said, confused. "It's supposed to be solid, but that means there's a problem with the engine."
"Kid," said the mechanic with a laugh. "That ain't an engine problem, that's a computer problem. And there's only one way to fix a computer problem."
He leaned in close.
"Have you tried turning it off and on again?"
Spoiler!
I am the smartest among my people, the klathu, which are among the most intelligent in the quadrant. Only one thing amazes me, confuses me, even dumbfounds me. How stupid the race known as humans are. How they complain about this. Or complain about that. They scream out into space as loud as they can. Yet they lack the technology to receive any response. They don't yet speak the galactic language yet. They argue over what language they should speak, or have wars over a primitive fuel. Pathetic.
Yet, the potential they hold, terrifies me. Not everybody sees past the flaws, 'they still have external genitals, there is no way they can stand up to our evolutionary achievements." is what they say.
But I know differently, they have tapped into things that no other species could. 2 of their years ago they discovered what they called the higgs boson. Every culture in the quadrant theorized it's existence, but not one could find it. But the humans, they did, even without the genius of a thousand cultures. They are the ones. Although not many cultures found out that these monkeys are the ones. The highest in the quadrant decided with a small group who would 'discover' it. It is also noteworthy that the humans showing everyone up followed immediately by there falling on there face. Every species that found out about the new particle and how to get it swiftly found out how it could be useful. It controls the very mass of everything, so naturally it revolutionized everything.
But it wasn't then that I realized their intelligence. It was when I crashed. I will spare the details, it was quite embarrassing, but I landed in this man's field. I was able to minimize the damage but the landing rendered me unconscious, and busted my ship in many areas. And i hadn't the parts or the knowhow to fix it.
When I cam to i found myself in a tiny room, furnished with artifacts just slightly smaller than they should be. At first I was confused. Then I saw a creature, I recognized it to be human. "Howdy, big guy"
At first I was dumbfounded, this primitive thing has taken me into it's home not knowing a thing about me. It smiled or so I think, among many that is universal, so I assumed it was for humans, "you not from around here? Are you."
"No, I am not" I replied, in my own tongue, and my universal translator responded a second later telling him in his.
He chuckled "that was a joke big guy, you have arms that come to your knees, and you are a full 11 feet tall, with grey skin! Nothing like that round here"
"My vehicle", I snapped, not wanting to get caught up in some low conversation about how we don't look the same. But truly I was slightly offended he thought my clothes were my skin. "Where is it, I can't be here much longer. The air is poison to me." this was a complete lie. No species in the universe as far as we know don't breath just like the humans. Cept for a water dweller. I just wanted to shut him up. So I could get back to my surveying of different stars.
"Well it took me a bit to figure out. But I think I know what's wrong with it." he said in a tone that sounded somewhat proud. "I even think I know why you crashed" at first I thought this was ridiculous, that this unevolved creature could figure out my ship. In fact from what i gathered this thing was a farmer, he actually gathers plant matter for other of his kind to eat. But remembering the boson I inquired.
"Yup, ya see, I found where the fuel should go, and found something glowing in it, figured that was alright, ya are an alien after all, but if ya follow this line that goes into the engine, there is a break in it, yur leaking every where, man. That caused something in the back to blow" he said all of this like he was absolutely sure what was going on. He had many thing's right. Although him calling the hyper drive combuster an engine was a tad primitive he was on the right track. And the glowing bit, he was inches away from a mixture that his species never laid there eyes on before, I was amazed he correctly identified it as fuel.
"You are smarter than you look"
"I get that a lot, ya want me to fix-er-up for ya?"
"You don't have the right metals here, but a temporary fix using some titanium from this earth may be enough to get me home"
After that he fixed me up, it only took one of their planet's days, (an afternoon for my species), while he was getting the pipe, I wrote down a formula for a much stronger form of titanium that the earth wouldn't be able to invent for another hundred rotations. I told him to tell no one about me, told him of this metal, and left, to do my job. Terrified, of what I had done. I had given them a tool that could allow them to get into even playing grounds with us. Knowing of there warmongering ways, I regret doing what I did. But also, slightly excited, for how it will all turn out.
Yet, the potential they hold, terrifies me. Not everybody sees past the flaws, 'they still have external genitals, there is no way they can stand up to our evolutionary achievements." is what they say.
But I know differently, they have tapped into things that no other species could. 2 of their years ago they discovered what they called the higgs boson. Every culture in the quadrant theorized it's existence, but not one could find it. But the humans, they did, even without the genius of a thousand cultures. They are the ones. Although not many cultures found out that these monkeys are the ones. The highest in the quadrant decided with a small group who would 'discover' it. It is also noteworthy that the humans showing everyone up followed immediately by there falling on there face. Every species that found out about the new particle and how to get it swiftly found out how it could be useful. It controls the very mass of everything, so naturally it revolutionized everything.
But it wasn't then that I realized their intelligence. It was when I crashed. I will spare the details, it was quite embarrassing, but I landed in this man's field. I was able to minimize the damage but the landing rendered me unconscious, and busted my ship in many areas. And i hadn't the parts or the knowhow to fix it.
When I cam to i found myself in a tiny room, furnished with artifacts just slightly smaller than they should be. At first I was confused. Then I saw a creature, I recognized it to be human. "Howdy, big guy"
At first I was dumbfounded, this primitive thing has taken me into it's home not knowing a thing about me. It smiled or so I think, among many that is universal, so I assumed it was for humans, "you not from around here? Are you."
"No, I am not" I replied, in my own tongue, and my universal translator responded a second later telling him in his.
He chuckled "that was a joke big guy, you have arms that come to your knees, and you are a full 11 feet tall, with grey skin! Nothing like that round here"
"My vehicle", I snapped, not wanting to get caught up in some low conversation about how we don't look the same. But truly I was slightly offended he thought my clothes were my skin. "Where is it, I can't be here much longer. The air is poison to me." this was a complete lie. No species in the universe as far as we know don't breath just like the humans. Cept for a water dweller. I just wanted to shut him up. So I could get back to my surveying of different stars.
"Well it took me a bit to figure out. But I think I know what's wrong with it." he said in a tone that sounded somewhat proud. "I even think I know why you crashed" at first I thought this was ridiculous, that this unevolved creature could figure out my ship. In fact from what i gathered this thing was a farmer, he actually gathers plant matter for other of his kind to eat. But remembering the boson I inquired.
"Yup, ya see, I found where the fuel should go, and found something glowing in it, figured that was alright, ya are an alien after all, but if ya follow this line that goes into the engine, there is a break in it, yur leaking every where, man. That caused something in the back to blow" he said all of this like he was absolutely sure what was going on. He had many thing's right. Although him calling the hyper drive combuster an engine was a tad primitive he was on the right track. And the glowing bit, he was inches away from a mixture that his species never laid there eyes on before, I was amazed he correctly identified it as fuel.
"You are smarter than you look"
"I get that a lot, ya want me to fix-er-up for ya?"
"You don't have the right metals here, but a temporary fix using some titanium from this earth may be enough to get me home"
After that he fixed me up, it only took one of their planet's days, (an afternoon for my species), while he was getting the pipe, I wrote down a formula for a much stronger form of titanium that the earth wouldn't be able to invent for another hundred rotations. I told him to tell no one about me, told him of this metal, and left, to do my job. Terrified, of what I had done. I had given them a tool that could allow them to get into even playing grounds with us. Knowing of there warmongering ways, I regret doing what I did. But also, slightly excited, for how it will all turn out.
. Though you're right that it starts a bit annoying. It gets interesting at "It was with distaste that I sent...". I especially love how foreign the concept of construction was to the alien. 
