LF Friends, Will Travel

Date: 65 PST (Post Stasis Time).

Bartholomule sat at the desk, his stubby little paws working diligently towards the task of putting together the screws and springs of his design together. The single desk lamp illuminated the otherwise dark room, highlighting his face; the cream coloured fur that covered his entire body being punctuated by two large black eyes and a little tongue sticking out of a mouth in concentration. His floppy ears bounced around his head, his entire 4ft tall body moving up and down as if listening to a silent tune while Bartholomule put the final touches on the mechanical duck he was putting together.

The fact that he required a booster seat in order to use the desk correctly finished the overall picture. Bartholomule was a Hatil, and by Terran standards "Fucking adorable".

The large room was punctuated by two other lights at which had their own respective Terrans sat separately, a Rosa and Tim, both fiddling with their own creations. Everyone else had long gone home, but the three were still working on their projects as the end of the working week, each of them invested enough into their creations that leaving them unfinished would annoy them for the next 4 days until Monday rolled around again.

It was strange work in these times: nowadays you could spin up, design, and have a prototype printed off in less then a hour using AI and computers; but that wasn't how the Zonka Joy Corporation worked. They believed that the little imperfections from a biological mind gave a toy something else, something special, and their commercial success suggested they might be onto something.

A noise blared out amongst the silence, a short simple signified the completion of Rosa's creation. This was followed by a sigh of success and the sound of her putting away her tools and getting up to leave for the week, a satisfied smile on her face.

"And that's me done! All of you have a good weekend, and I'll see you on Monday!".

This attracted Bartholomule's attention, causing him to momentarily look up from his work and give the Terran a big smile of his own.

"Before you go Rosa, a few of us are going to the Toymaster convention on Friday. I was supposed to ask if you wanted to come with us, it should be fun!"

As Rosa turned to look at the Hatil, the smile on her face instantly faded into a harsh grimace, eyes staring coldly back at Bartholomule, as if she was instantly reminded of something terrible. The moment lasted for far longer than it should have, the Terran almost staring right past the little Hatil for 30 seconds, sucking the energy out of the room in an instant.

"No. I'm Good, I'll see you on Monday."

Rosa left abruptly without any further action, almost seeming to flee the interaction as fast as she could without actually running, body language now stiff and defensive. The human left behind an awkward feeling in the near empty workshop, a confused and now frowning Bartholomule watching as Rosa left.

The Hatil had arrived on Earth 6 months ago, partly to take his current job, mostly in order to experience new and exciting things. He was very happy during his time on the birthplace of the Terrans, even though there were only a handful of other Hatil on the planet because of... reasons.

Still, he enjoyed his time around Terrans, and Earth was exciting. Dangerous, yes, but exciting. While most Terrans were friendly, this kind of reaction from some people kept happening, this weird... coldness. Bartholomule paused for a moment, wondering whether to say anything before turning to the last remaining person in the room.

"Tim. Have I offended Rosa in some way?"

A pause, a special kind of silence caused when someone really doesn't want to answer a question, Tim giving an providing Bartholomule more space to keep talking.

"Because this has happened a few times, I was wondering if there was a misunderstanding of Terran culture, I don't want to cause distress".

A very distinct sigh came from Tim as he very slowly and purposefully put down the tools and toy train he was working on, taking before looking up with a grimace before speaking softly in a gruff voice.

"Look, don't tell anyone I said anything, but you do need to know as you’ve asked this before. The answer is long and complicated, but the short answer is it's because you're a Hatil, and that brings up bad memories. Not everyone has gotten over the hurt of what happened."

There was a cold wave of dismay that ran through Bartholomule as he knew exactly what Tim was talking about. The war of shame, the eternal guilt that every Hatil was taught about as a pup. The Hatil - Terran war, a stupid act of his stupid ancestors.

"But that was over sixty years ago, there's no way either of you were around back then?"

Tim gave a little shrug in response.

"Most Terrans you see were still alive back then. Our regenerative technology is top notch, I'm over 300 but don't look a day over thirty. Plus with what happened before right before the war and... what do you know about Terrans?".

Bartholomule thought for a moment. He knew they were generally tough, that they were the original founders of the Terran Alliance. He knew they were the only species to create a successful AI that didn't try to kill everyone, and were known for their above average stamina.

Oh, and they had the single biggest pack bonding drive in the known universe: The information guide on Terrans provided by his government when Bartholomule had moved to Earth had stated never to give any "Machine, Food dispenser, wild animal, brick, pebble, leaf, twig, paper or piece of lint" a name in front of a Terran, lest they pack bond with it and emotional harm is caused.

But Bartholomule guessed Tim wasn't talking about any of that.

"I know you're all technically over a ten thousand years old, as a disease forced Terrans into stasis. That's why you're a relatively new addition to the Galaxy, after a cure was found by your AI sixty five years ago."

"That's the child friendly version. The fact is the god plague was brutal. The thing altered DNA at an exponential rate, so basically a week after catching it you were nothing but a ball of tumours. Outside of stupid temperatures destroying the thing was near impossible, could survive the vacuum of space and it spread by both air and water. A single microbe of that shit entered your planet and you were frankly fucked."

There was a moment as Tim took a second to pause, a pained look on his face as old memories were brought up

The total death rate was around 50%, but that wasn't spread out equally. The first few planets infected with the plague had little under a week to realise there was no cure and to start freezing everyone. There were the riots, the destructive attempts at quarantine, fighting over stasis chambers, just bad all around. That's without getting into the 25% AI death rate."

The obvious confusion on Bartholomule's face was obvious. How could a virus kill an AI? And what did this have to do with people’s reactions to him?

"We only knew this after unfreezing, but for ten thousand years humans were basically an extinct race, the only Terrans alive were the AI and uplifts we had left behind. Not all of our friends could handle that... a lot of us awoke from stasis to find friends he had left behind were no more. But you know the real kicker?"

Tim gave a small sad laugh as he continued to explain

"The only reason it happened was because we didn't know that you guys existed. Our entire sector of space is empty of life, so we assumed that there was nothing out there. The god plague was originally an experiment to create new life that got out of hand. Waking up to realise the entire reason for all that pain and death was faulty, that if we'd just gone another 50 light years down the road none of it would have happened... that hurt, that hurt a lot."

The Terran gave a deep sigh before continuing.

"But when we realised there was life out there, it might have been a bittersweet realisation, but it was still sweet. Ever the optimists we reached out to our closest neighbours, the Hatil, and then..."

"We declared war."

The war of shame. A faulty war of aggression waged sixty years ago based on two incorrect and immoral ideas: That any race using AI was a threat to the galaxy that needed to be destroyed, and that any civilization that had spent the last ten thousand years in stasis would be technologically primitive.

The latter being the most incorrect, after the initial assault on two Terran Colonies and destroying the Terran's initial diplomatic envoy, the Terrans had turned around and dominated Hatil army, ending with their largest colony being planet cracked.

It was why even though the Hatil considered themselves close allies with their now Terran friends, to the extent that Terran culture tended to dominate, the Hatil tended not to visit Earth that often: A deep cultural guilt that just thinking about wracked Bartholomule body with shame.

"Well not you personally, but yes. As an extra pile of pain the Hatil possibly are the worst species to fight. No offence, but you basically look like a golden retriever, a teddy bear and a baby seal were all squished together. You're adorable. There's a reason we had that 'No touching coworkers' seminar after you joined."

This wasn't anything new to Bartholomule, the toy based on his likeness was one of the biggest sellers if the royalty payments were anything to go by. He'd gotten used to being randomly hugged by random Terran children, the young apes often being peeled off him by very embarrassed and apologetic parents. He wasn't yet used to drunk Terran adults often doing the same...

"You tie all that together, and it was a perfect psychological kickin. It was like learning that Sesame street exists after much searching and sacrifice, but Elmo personally thinks you're a terrible person and wants to kill you. It's why we went too far and planet cracked your colony."

Now that was news for Bartholomule, the idea that the destruction of Tavairis was somehow immoral. As a cub he'd been taught that considering it was a war of aggression from their side, they were lucky the Terrans were merciful enough to accept surrender and stop there. The concept that Terrans might regret such an action was interesting.

"Unfortunately it means for a lot of people, they see you and it reminds them of the plague, the war after, the loneliness and hurt. They should remain cordial, and I'll give anyone who isn't a good speaking too and maybe more, but they aren't going to want to be your friend either."

Silence weighed down on the room for a while, the weight of what had been said hanging in the air, nothing more than the slight hum of two lamps buzzing in the darkened office, before Bartholomule finally broke the silence.

"So why aren't you the same?".

A smile spread across the features of Tim's face.

"I know it isn't your fault what happened. Some of us heal faster than others and some of us had an easier time of it. My job during the war was R&D. I made designs for weapons that never got built once we realised just how far ahead we were. Rosa, she was infantry. Remember what I said about how the Hatil looks in terms of adorableness? That messed a lot of people up real good."

"Still isn't fair though".

"No it isn't and I'll have a talk with her. Just keep in mind that while time heals all wounds, when it wants to the universe can really pile on the hurt."