LF Friends, Will Travel

“̶S̸o̷ ̵i̸n̵ ̴c̷o̸n̵c̴l̴u̷s̵i̷o̸n̸,̸ ̸t̷h̴e̵ ̴T̴e̸r̶r̶a̶n̴s̸ ̵a̸r̵e̴ ̶g̵r̸e̶a̵t̷!̷ ̶W̵e̴'̸v̴e̵ ̸m̶a̷d̵e̴ ̴s̴o̴ ̶m̸a̷n̸y̵ ̴f̸r̸i̷e̶n̵d̵s̴ ̸s̵i̵n̴c̵e̷ ̵w̷e̸ ̸m̴e̴t̵ ̸t̶h̶e̸m̷!̷ ̵I̶f̷ ̸y̷o̴u̴'̵r̸e̵ ̴l̴o̷o̶k̷i̶n̷g̷ ̵f̴o̷r̷ ̶f̸r̴i̶e̴n̴d̷s̷ ̵y̵o̷u̶ ̶s̵h̸o̴u̷l̶d̴ ̷t̴o̷t̵a̷l̸l̶y̴ ̷j̶o̷i̶n̷ ̶a̵s̶ ̶w̷e̸l̷l̵!̵”̶

Zantari stood across from the Dunwilian, an anxious feeling of being trapped in the conversation building with each second. The Ghirlinn’s form was relatively benign: their default state of a bipedal Reptilian in a deep red robe. This was in stark contrast to their conversational partner.

The Dunwilian's were not a conventional race. Many would call them strange, weird, unnatural. Meaner people would call them ugly. The humans even had a specific word: Lovecraftian. Ten feet tall, an undulating mass of bruised blueish-purple tendrils wrapped together like a slimy ball of hastily wrapped twine. A series of trunks, each with a gnashing maw of teeth at the bottom acted as their limbs for locomotion and finer environment interaction. Masses of deep red eyes were scattered across the entire thing; no matter where you stared, the creature looked back at you.

“Yes, yes. That’s very nice. I’ve got some place to be, so I’ll think about it later?”

Most species did not have diplomatic relations with the Dunwilians due to their off-putting appearance, their method of talking and entire state of… everything filled your average three-dimensional being with terror, horror and dread. The Ghirlinn steered clear of them for an entirely different and less nasty reason: It was generally a good idea to avoid interacting or messing with species who had an external patron.

The Ghirlinn didn’t know much about the true capabilities of the dark gods which had birthed the Dunwilians, since working that kind of thing out was difficult when extradimensional beings tended to avoid such things like logic, the laws of physics, or reality itself. However, they did guess that for all of the Ghirlinn’s power in their extensive universe-spanning civilization, that these beings could rend all of that to dust should they so choose. Or were allowed to, since the rules around when a being such as that could interact with the ‘normal’ universe were vague and unknowable to anyone with a three-dimensional mind or even three-dimensional computers.

It was far less risky to just avoid interactions with such species, lest you anger something far greater than you.

“̷O̴h̶,̵ ̸b̸u̵t̶ ̷I̶ ̶h̴a̸v̶e̷n̵’̸t̶ ̷g̴o̵t̴ ̷t̸o̷ ̶t̴h̵e̶ ̴b̷e̴s̵t̷ ̴p̸a̵r̸t̴ ̸y̶e̵t̸!̵ ̴H̷a̴t̵s̵!̸ ̷D̵o̸ ̷y̵o̷u̵ ̶l̷i̷k̷e̸ ̸m̴i̵n̴e̶?̷ ̸I̴ ̷t̸h̵i̷n̶k̷ ̶i̴t̵ ̶l̶o̴o̸k̴s̸ ̸n̸e̴a̷t̶!̷”̸

Zantari had scheduled a great many interviews with the members of the Terran Alliance. This was not one of them, this meeting was entirely by chance. They had been visiting this Federation station while on their way back home to report on their findings on the Terrans, and had just so happened to run into a Dunwilian diplomat while wandering the halls. Zantari had then made a great mistake: They gave a small, polite greeting.

This had given the Dunwilian ample excuse to launch into an unprompted and enthusiastic conversation about the Terrans and all of the new friends the Lovecraftian species had made after joining the Terran Alliance. For the last fifteen minutes, Zantari had been stuck here in this conversation, trying and failing to exit the social trap.

“Your hat is very nice. I really must be going now…”

That was the one new thing about the Dunwilian's appearance: the giant purple wool hat that sat upon the Lovecraftian ‘head’, topped off with a large white daffodil stuck to the side. Zantari had to admit it did soften the otherwise interesting appearance of the Dunwilian.

“̸L̵e̷t̸ ̸m̶e̶ ̷g̸i̵v̸e̷ ̷y̷o̶u̷ ̶a̵ ̵h̸a̵t̵,̷ ̷t̸h̶e̴n̴ ̸y̶o̸u̶ ̸c̴a̸n̶ ̸a̸l̴s̷o̸ ̵m̸a̸k̵e̴ ̷f̵r̷i̶e̶n̷d̸s̸!̷”̸

The Lovecraftian species took one of its trunks and lifted the giant purple woollen hat off of its head, revealing underneath another piece of headwear: A giant top hat made of bright pink felt. Enthusiastically the Dunwilian handed it over this smaller second hat to Zantari, who held it awkwardly while the diplomat made sure their original hat was put back properly into place, adjusting it from side to side, so the flower fell in just the right way.

“This is very nice, I guess, I’m going to go find somewhere to put it on”

Zantari started physically backing away slowly, hoping to physically escape the conversation. Thankfully the Dunwilian didn’t follow, instead finally realizing the conversation was over.

“̸Y̸e̵a̴h̵,̴ ̷I̶ ̵t̶h̵i̸n̶k̶ ̸t̸h̴e̵ ̵c̸o̶l̷o̴u̷r̸ ̸w̷i̴l̶l̶ ̷s̴u̶i̸t̴ ̷y̸o̵u̷!̶ ̸I̵’̷l̵l̷ ̵l̷e̷t̷ ̴y̴o̵u̸ ̸g̶e̷t̶ ̴o̶f̸f̷,̷ ̷o̶r̷ ̴I̸’̸m̵ ̴g̶o̴i̷n̶g̷ ̸t̴o̸ ̸b̴e̴ ̷l̵a̴t̵e̵ ̶f̶o̴r̷ ̷m̷y̴ ̶m̴e̸e̷t̵i̵n̴g̶!̶”̴

Zantari gave a final wave as they finally turned a corner in the hallway to be out of sight of the overly chatty diplomat. They didn’t quite ‘run’ from the situation as soon as they broke line of vision, but they did speed up in order to put some distance between themselves and the Dunwilian. They weren’t even here on this Federation space station for diplomatic reasons: This was one of the few places that sold a rare and potent alcoholic beverage: Lituram. Of course, while there were other places that sold similar or even ‘technically’ identical liquids, it was well known that any such drink not made on the planet Lituram, was just sparkling Ogas. So the Zantari had decided to pick up a few crates and have them loaded onto their ship while they were in the area.

The Ghirlinn found themselves deep in thought as they made their way back to their vessel. Their next meeting would be with Xanara, to regroup and work out what to do with the information they had gathered on the Terrans. It was probably going to be fine in reality considering the Terrans seemed to excel in being friendly and open to new experiences, so Zantari was certain they’d work out something amenable to both sides.

I wonder what payment the Terrans would need for some head pats. Or a little boop on the-

Zantari gave an annoyed frown as the next door didn’t open, stopping their progress forwards as the automated sensors refused to activate, leaving the exit to this random empty hallway blocked. The Ghirlinn gave an annoyed wave of their hand in front of the pad, the lack of a reaction to their movement making them look like a very shitty magician. Zantari upgraded their annoyance to a grumble as they started poking the pad’s physical buttons in an attempt to open the door.

“Zantari, you and I need to talk. You’re going to stay right here until you answer some questions.”

The Ghirlinn span around to face the voice, a strange figure now blocking the way Zantari had come from. Well… blocking was a strong word. The alien stood before them was a light orange feline. Bipedal, but barely two feet tall, wearing a crisp well tailored black suit. Zantari could probably just push the figure over. Instead, they asked the most obvious question.

“Sorry, who are you?”

The feline gave a small joyless smile in response, confidence and self-assurance dripping from his person as he responded.

“Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that my job is to know things. I know your name is Zantari. I know you've been travelling around the Alliance asking about us. I also know that you single-handedly took out an Estorian fleet, which we thank you for.”

Zantari was starting to get a bad feeling about this. A niggling piece of information they’d forgotten was starting to push its way to the centre of their mind. Still, Ghirlinn first tried to scare away this newcomer and hopefully continue on back to a ship now full of rare booze.

“If I really did that single-handedly, blocking my path seems inadvisable.”

“I saw the footage of what you did, and you very clearly have some sort of rules around when you can intervene or use your Doctor Who bullshit. Probably similar to our rules surrounding contact with pre-FTL civilizations. I’m not attacking you, I’m just standing here, talking, while my AI friend does some much-needed maintenance on the door and all doors that lead to your vessel.”

“Beep boop, this door needs defragging. Please stand by.”

The digital sounding voice emitted from the intercom, filling Zantari with worry as they put the pieces together. If this feline was working with an AI, there was only one logical reason why they were here.

The cute primates were not the only species who went by the name Terran, the Ghirlinn just didn’t care much about the other two. The name was owned by three different peoples under one unified banner: Human, AI, and Uplift.

“So Zantari.” The Uplift continued, his voice filled with accusation. “You've been sneaking around asking about us, so here we are! What is your problem so important that you didn't just ask us directly?”

Panic. The Ghirlinn were a species in control of their destiny, who had conquered time and space long ago, so this was the first time in years where Zantari was legitimately taken off guard. This was first contact with the Terrans themselves, or at least part of them, and being cornered in a hallway by someone in some form of military intelligence had not been the plan.

All carefully crafted machinations around bringing the information Zantari had gathered back home, and creating a perfect diplomatic approach to first contact fled their mind, leaving behind a stumbling slurry of thoughts.

“Well, it wasn't really sneaking per se…”

“By definition it was, sneaking. Analysis of your movements and scheduled meetings suggests a purposeful attempt to avoid Terrans.” The AI spoke once more., the digital voice somehow sounding full of snark as they spoke.

“Which leads to what exactly were you doing?” Added the uplift, adding to the pressure with his AI coworker. “Planning on cutting down a burgeoning alliance? Want to poach our members, offering them a better deal?”

“Of course not! That wouldn’t be our place, we don’t interfere. We mean you no harm! “ Zantari fumbled for a response as the uplift stared them down. ”We just wanted to… you know.”

“No, I don’t know, because you didn’t talk to us and avoided us for god knows what reason. That isn’t the actions of someone who means no harm.” The feline countered with venom in their voice.

“We were also able to do some investigation of our own. Your species has a tendency to be… disruptive.”

“Those aren’t sanctioned, people are only remembered when they break the rules!” The Ghirlinn shouted as they tried to answer, desperately feeling like their actions were being taken in the most negative light. “It’s just the Terrans, humans, whatever you call them, they’re… it’s complicated.”

“What about them? It’s really not complicated, the fact that you are making this complicated makes me feel like you’re threatening them.” The uplift immediately countered.

“We do not like those who threaten our creators.”

Zantari once again fumbled for their words. “It’s not a threat, it’s the opposite, it's…”

“What is it?!”

“What is your purpose here?!”

“THEY’RE CUTE!”

There was a pause as the barrage of questions and accusations finally broke Zantari down, the poor Ghirlinn screaming the words out and silencing the two Terrans, the empty lack of noise finally filling the hallway as they tried to understand just what that meant.

Oh great job Zantari, that’s a ‘perfect’ explanation you idiot.

“What?” The Uplift eventually asked, confused, the opposition in his voice replaced with confusion.

“Terrans, the other ones, the humans. They’re adorable! Little bipedal furless children wobbling around being chaotic wherever they go. I’ve been talking with your allies to work out how to break that to them. Because as soon as the rest of my species learn about you, ‘Terran trafficking’ is going to become a problem and none of you have anything that can stop us! We don’t want you to hate us, so I was trying to work out what kind of species you are so we could explain it in the best way! Which we STILL don’t know because everyone gave me different information about you and I don’t know what we’re supposed to do!”

For all of the Ghirlinn’s technology and superior understanding of the universe, there was nothing else Zantari could do but be honest, the desperation and despair in their voice evident. No matter how advanced as a species you got, first contacts were always a pain. Getting people to like you, hoping your flaws and issues didn’t outweigh your positive traits. That first jump into the unknown never got any easier.

Silence took over the hallway for ten, twenty seconds. Then the uplift started to laugh, starting out with small giggles before erupting into a full on belly aching roar of mirth at this information. Zantari felt a small amount of indignation as all of their worries and fears at meeting the Terrans were responded to with laughter.

“It’s not funny! It’s a major issue that’s going to cause big problems!”

“I do agree.” The AI added. “With the technological advantage of the Ghirlinn, this could cause issues for our creators.”

Yet still the uplift continued to laugh, their tough professional demeanour breaking down when faced with the funniest thing they’d heard for years.

“I’m sorry, but look at me.” The uplift finally shouted out in-between laughter. “After my many years of existence with our creators, the fact that someone else finds humans cute, to the same annoying degree, is hilarious.”

“I will admit, it is kinda funny.”

Zantari didn’t know how to feel about this. This was not the reaction they were expecting, they had no plan for what to do if the Terrans found the problem… funny. Even now, even after over forty meetings talking about the strange adorable primates with other species, this reaction confused them.

“The Scythen did say it was funny.” Zantari conceded, slowly feeling better and a little bit silly after worrying about this meeting for so long. “So you’re not afraid or angry at us for this new problem?”

“No, I’m still angry with you.” The uplift contested, pointing a furred paw towards the Ghirlinn. “Sneaking around, going behind our backs, spying on us through our friends. In bird law that’s known as a dick move.”

“I will give you some advice Mr. Zantari. My creators only find deception acceptable in two cases: regarding presents, and surprise parties.” The AI added slowly. “Even the latter is prone to the party recipient pulling out a form of weaponry.”

The Ghirlinn hung their head with shame, realizing just how bad their actions looked to someone not privy to the reasons why they had decided upon such deceit. Maybe thousands upon thousands of years of not needing to take this kind of risk at social rejection, had left the Ghirlinn terrified at what should have been a simple, honest interaction.

“So, what happens now?”

The uplift gave a sigh, as the once closed door finally opened after the AI had finished their ‘maintenance’. The uplift walked through it, passing by Zantari with confidence before beckoning the Ghirlinn to follow.

“What happens now is you follow me and we do this properly. You’re going to get in contact with our head of diplomatic relations, you’re going to explain the problem and work on a solution together. You’re also going to meet your first human. I hope it’s everything you thought it was going to be.”

Zantari held their hands together nervously, feeling like a child that had just been scolded and was being told to fix their mistake. They took a moment before finally following the Uplift through the door, now realizing the AI had given them some crucial information on something the Terrans would enjoy.

“... Can we have a moment, so I can get the Terrans a present?”