Tumblr Thread: Humans Are Space Orcs

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    Font - S writing-prompt-s writing-prompt-s You've just realized something strange about the humans. They're a race that joined the galaxy recently, but you've just found evidence of them already been part of it for many millennia before, but it feels like everybody's forgotten. elidyce We were delighted when the people calling themselves 'humans' joined the spacefaring races. They were clever and agile, hot-tempered and humorous, fierce and yet friendly, a young species with much to offer us. Mo
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    Font - ready for it all, they might be remembering something they've forgotten, not learning something new. Some of us, the Izaslanik of the Bybleotekar, the gatherers of information for the record keepers, began encouraging humans to join us, that we might study them more closely. They like the work - they are a curious species, delighting in new knowledge, and they make able assistants. My human companion is named Mira, a young female. She is a good companion, who sings sweetly and laughs ofte
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    Font - when we came." It takes me a little while to understand what she said. It is only later, during the feasting, that I turn to her again. "You said your homeworld doesn't have turquoise. Only. what you brought with you. Do you mean turquoise you have bought offworld, since you joined the spaceways?" "Yes," she says, and I relax, ready to put it down to a misunderstanding. The universal tongue is not her first language, nor mine. Then she continues. "But we brought some with us, too, when we
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    Font - I clasp my hands in assent, considering. I know what she means, though few races have ever used generation ships. It is the last, desperate resort of the residents of a world in dire trouble, a flinging into the void of a last, desperate hope. "Was there only one ship?" She nods. "Only one, It still sits where it landed, though it is derelict now." Then she cocks her head. "Oh, did you mean leaving the old world? No, there were many, we think. The old records are. incomplete. Damaged. We
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    Font - I keep travelling with Mira, and I credit her adaptability, her intuitive understanding of other species, to that preparedness and to the natural curiosity of her species. We are on a Hospitable World, one receptive to life but with no intelligent species, when she points to a brightly coloured avian. "Look! A." She makes a garbled sound in what must be her own language. "What does that mean?" The human language is in our linguistic database, but I've never learned it. "Bird? Colours?" Sh
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    Font - "This world was settled by your kind?" | ask slowly. "They. brought their animals?" "Yes, they must have." She looks around, and her face is very sad. "I guess they didn't make it." Because of what she says, we scan the planet. Because of what she says, we find the single large accretion of metal, the remains of a generational ship so big that thousands of seasons have not destroyed it. What became of its settlers, we cannot determine. It has been too long. Mira sends word back to her hom
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    Font - They show us the ruins, which are fascinating. I chatter almost as much as Mira in my delight, examining the quality of the fitted stones, the beautiful carved reliefs, the tiled mosaics. We are on our third day of recording when I hear a little sound from Mira that I have never heard from her before. When I go over to her, she is staring at a small clay tablet. "Look," she whispers. "Oh, they did come here." I don't understand, at first, until she holds up her own hand to it. These print
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    Font - Later, I look at the Zhoghovurd again. Upright, like most sentient species. Smaller than most, with a form of scaling rather than fur or naked skin, swift-moving and hospitable to strangers. Does Mira think they wiped out the humans? These things do happen. It is sad, but competition is the nature of life. Then one of them offers me a cup, and I look at its hand. It is hard and scaled, small, but. it has four long digits, and one manipulator, and a flat part where they join. It is not a m
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    Font - "But the Zhoghovurd are so different," I wail. "How can they spring from the same root as your kind?" She laughs softly. "of course they look different. The gravity, the length of the planet's rotation, the average climate. it's all so different here! Everyone adapts to their own planet, don't they? But the hand-prints came with us from the old planet. A way to know each other again, no matter how much we change." "Yes, but." I am shaken to my root. Every species evolves to meet its own e
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    Font - Back in my pod, I close the door and tremble. When the Bybleotekar began recording, thousands of our years ago, we wrote of the terrible loss of even earlier records. A planet destroyed by a rogue black hole, and all its records lost. Of the species that had been the recorders, and were now gone. The species that had welcomed us, new to the spaceways, as kindly as if we were long-lost kin. I look down at my hands. All six of my dark- furred, five-fingered hands. #story prompt #short story

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