LF Friends, Will Travel

The building was one of reverence, the air itself filled with the deep booming sensation of sacred energy. Stone pillars lined the giant halls, each one made of Iltrite: a black marble like substance that naturally formed embedded with precious metals. Each one was carved in such a way that they seemed to float in the dim light of the church, like stars in the night, as if the ceiling of this great place of worship was being held up by faith alone.

Zantari slowly followed the diplomat? Priest? They seemed to be one and the same here. Whichever they were, the Ghirlinn walked behind the giant figure as they moved near silently towards their destination, passing others shrouded in the dark, hunched over altars or sat along rows of pews, only the soft sound of footsteps could be heard in such a silent sacred place.

Eventually they reached the end of their journey, standing below a ceiling that stretched towards the sky with a glorious kaleidoscope of light streaming in through the thousands of stained-glass pieces. A spotlight from heaven seemed to shine upon the pair, a column of illumination in an otherwise dark building. Looking up Zantari could see the figures and pictures built within the glass, of gods and devils they didn’t recognize, of demons from the stars, and prominently placed within it all; representations of Terrans.

“So what can I do for you, my child?”

The words were spoken slowly, deep and booming from the large figure that stood robed in front of the Ghirlinn. Just over 9 feet tall: bulky, wide, strong, as all of the Kruku were. Deep grey skin covered the entire person, from his three large stubby fingers, all the way down to their giant padded feet. A single emerald eye, two giant ears and a large curled trunk made up a face that poked its way out of the bright green and gold ceremonial robes.

Zantari gave a small respectful bow, their own figure just as large, hoofed and lumbering in a non-threatening way. Even with the long flowing religious coverings, Zantari could see previous injuries: dull white lines, scars criss-crossing themselves over the dark grey skin, telling a story of a time not quite as happy as this one.

“Thank you for your time, I come seeking knowledge on the Terrans and yourselves, as we have no records of your species.”

Zantari had no information about the Kruku, no databases outside a brief mention of their probationary membership of the Terran Alliance. From what the Ghirlinn could tell they were not technologically strong, not even FTL capable if Zantari had to guess. The single space station they’d arrive via was clearly not of their own design; standing out like a sore thumb from the other multitude of towns and cities scattered around their singular home planet. The darkness from orbit told even more, with only a handful of their largest cities being lit up with electric lights. Zantari couldn’t help but wonder how this species had managed to join this grand alliance.

“Ah. The Terrans. In order to tell the story of the little ones, one must first start at the beginning. One must first start with the demons. One must first start with the Raha.”

Well that wasn’t a good sign for the Kruku. Any story that started with the members of the Estorian Empire was not a good one. Zantari could already guess what the diplomat was about to say, although they weren’t about to be rude and interrupt.

“A falling star is always considered a bad omen, a sign of displeased gods and woe to befall any kingdom who witnesses it, and this one was no different. They came from the heavens, two hundred and thirteen years ago they arrived, masquerading as angels but acting as demons. They call themselves the Raha, the masters, giant insects from hell itself. Weaker than us physically and morally, not that this mattered. When they arrived we didn’t know of other worlds or of other species, astronomy was nothing more than looking up at the stars for navigation between towns. Our strength of flesh, mind, and steel was no match for the power of the demons and their stolen strength of gods.”

It was both something that both happened often enough, but was also surprisingly rare. Pre-FTL civilizations were easy pickings for any space faring species who wished to conquer them, as even a simple spacecraft gave you the ultimate form of air control. Most of the time they were risk-free conquests, although simultaneously the gain from such a primitive world was never worth the risk of gobbling up a random lesser civilization.

Most of the time they were just random pockets of life found on random planets, but occasionally they were someone else’s property, which just wasn’t worth the risk. A god creating a civilization in their image, an advanced species parting ways with a long forgotten colony and letting them grow on their own. Species who went around subjugating everyone weaker than them didn’t tend to last long on a galactic scale, as eventually they’d mess with the wrong person’s ‘kid’ and get their teeth kicked in.

“They demanded our worship, our labour, our torment. The demons built their unholy factories upon our world and forced us to toil in them. They kidnapped us and sent us towards the stars, where they could play their cruel games and feast upon our despair.”

Zantari couldn't help but feel more disdain for the Raha. Once your technology level was multi-planetary, slavery stopped making economic sense. You could either feed and guard several thousand people to work in your factories, or have one person occasionally watching over automated systems which were far more productive. The only reason most space faring civilizations even had any jobs done by actual people was because having your entire population do nothing but live in luxury was a good way to drive yourselves extinct, after a couple generations of creating societal incompetence.

To use slaves meant you were only doing it for the enjoyment of the pain, suffering and absolute control such a system required. AKA, you were being a bit of a dick.

“For over two centuries we tried to fight back, we tried to resist. Before becoming our people’s representative among the stars, I aided our attempts of resistance, as futile as it was against the demons with such power. During those years we prayed to Laheh for salvation and aid, wishing for any answer to our cries of torment. Eventually she did. Eventually she could take our suffering no more, and from the heavens descended her champions to save us: The little ones, the Terrans.”

Of course, Zantari knew there was nothing divine about what had happened. The Terran Alliance were at war with the Raha, so attacking a planet they had conquered and were using as a source of labour made sense. Not that this distinction meant much as the Kruku told his story with the voice of someone who had told this tale to little Kruku children many times before.

“The Terrans might look childlike and innocent, but there is a righteous fire within them as they burn with Laheh’s light. Four years ago they arrived, bringing with them a kind fury for our pain. The Raha had been our cruel masters for over two centuries, but their tyranny had been broken within two weeks. The demonic ships that had hung in our skies for so long were destroyed by the Terrans forces, their cruel watchtowers torn asunder. Just over three months is what it took for all of the fighting to finally conclude, their divine retribution completed, our world was ours again.”

That sounded about right to Zantari. The Raha were well known cowards and bullies who fell apart when facing a “fair” fight, choosing only to attack those they could either overwhelm with sheer numbers, or take on with a major technological advantage. It was no hidden secret that they were the weakest of the five armies of the Estorian Empire, and only really used as a “buffer” for the other four. Everything the Ghirlinn had heard regarding the Terrans suggested the sweet little primates could easily take on the cruel slaving insects.

“So your past few years have been interesting, the Terran Alliance’s governance must be more agreeable than the Raha?” Zantari cautiously responded. Describing the events of being liberated out of generation's long slavery as ‘interesting’ was a polite way of talking about it

“The Terrans are as kind as their outward appearance. We would have accepted them as our new leaders for driving away the demons, but the little ones demanded that we stand upon our own two feet. They have guided us during this transition, sharing technologies, introducing us to the universe and its many secrets that the demons had kept from us. Giving us the tools to take charge of our own futures once again. Letting us meet with strange people such as yourself. Their adorable nature while guiding us has been helpful during this transition.”

Zantari gave a moment’s pause as the words the Kruku had used to describe the Terrans were brought to their mind. ‘Little ones’, ’Childlike’, ‘Adorable’.

“Adorable? Do you also find the primates cute as well?”

“They don’t like being called primates. But to answer your question, how could we not? Even with the power and aid they’ve given us, they still look like children who need to be protected; tiny, soft, wobbling around on those thin shaky legs of theirs. How could one not find such caring saviours as ‘cute’?”

There was a moment’s pause as Zantari realized that this species, with nothing of note to speak about on a galactic level, would be the Ghirlinn’s best way to learn how the Terrans would react to their own feelings of adorableness to the chaos primates. These questions would remain unasked for a little while longer however, as the Kruku diplomat pulled out a small communication pad from a pocket within their robes, one of the most advanced pieces of technology for miles around glowing in a harsh contrast to the low tech religious building they were stood in.

“I have cute pictures of the Terrans, if you want to look.”

Kruku diplomat had an advantage that most diplomats around the universe did not: He had no idea who the Ghirlinn were, and no idea of their power. The alien was just another strange face who had contacted their species in a long line of strange faces. So asking the alien with the power to bend space and reality to their own will, if they wanted to look at some cute pictures, was the most natural thing in the world for him.

“My goodness, yes!”

The pair crowded around the small device held in the Kruku’s stubby fingers, both of them cooing and looking on at pictures of the Terrans interacting with the Kruku over the last four years: Terrans wearing their giant robes, human soldiers riding on the backs of the giant natives of the planet, or moments of simple interactions between the two species. Occasionally the Kruku would quietly provide some information about a particular picture: The difficulty of tricking a Terran to wear a certain kind of dress, or some cultural context about a picture.

At that moment, Zantari and the Kruku priest were not two ambassadors talking with each other within a building of great sacred importance. The stained-glass murals in the ceiling or the impressive pillars carved out of the Iltrite faded into the background as the pair did the most universally enjoyed thing two people can do while keeping their clothes on: Enjoy pictures taken of something adorably cute.

“So how do the Terrans react to you finding them cute?” Zantari eventually asked as the pictures ran out, forcing the pair once again to continue their discussion, the Ghirlinn still in a good mood after seeing the pictures of the adorable little Terrans.

“It varies. Most find it funny, a few are annoyed. Mostly it’s fine. Just remember that Terrans are fiercely independent and don’t mention their adorableness too much. Also, avoid kidnapping and imprisoning them.”

There was a moment's pause as the words of the Kruku diplomat took a moment to register with Zantari, absolute confusion in his voice as the Ghirlinn responded.

“Wait, how would you even know about that being a problem?”

The Kruku took a moment, their eye squeezed shut and trunk curled with embarrassment.

“A passage from the Book of Edia: So the servant of Laheh appeared from the heavens, childlike and proclaiming her word, and her word was good. Edia was Laheh’s favourite, upon which his heart trusted her guidance, and she trusted in his. The servant of Laheh spoke before Edia, ‘Do not be filled with fear, I am Laheh’s will and her will is absolute. You have spoken her words and I shall aid you in your time of need.’ And this was good. Yet as days became nights became days, the works and words of Edia were not yet complete. So the servant of Laheh implored upon Edia a task of importance. ‘The winds of heavens and earth will drive me back to Laheh’s embrace, before our task is complete. You must build chains of gold and silver, two by four links, and embrace them around myself, so I may remain here until your work is done’. And Edia did as he was decreed, and the servant of Laheh remained by his side unhindered by the winds of fate and heaven, and it was good.”

“Ah, I understand.”

The Kruku gave a sigh, scratching their trunk in an anxious embarrassment.

“Especially in the more rural areas, when they saw the Terrans and their child-like visages descend upon them from the heavens and cast aside the Raha, many took them to be the literal servants of Laheh. Many others then tried to bind the Terrans in chains of whatever previous metals they could forge or find. The Terrans did not like this.”

Zantari felt a little more urgency as they asked the next question, feeling as if their entire reason for going on these diplomatic talks were about to be answered.

“How do you think the Terrans would react if others of a greater strength than yourselves did something… similar?”

The diplomat paused for a moment, thinking back to their now numerous interactions with their divine saviours, their insistence of the Kruku solving their own problems and leading themselves out of the darkness that the Raha had enslaved them in.

“They value autonomy and freedom, over everything else. You could craft a cage with the finest Iltrite with chains made of the most precious metals, and they would still cut off their own arm before allowing themselves or anyone to be bound within them.”

Well, that’s not good to hear, because that’s what a lot of Ghirlinn would like to do…

“Even if they were provided with aid and resources beyond their own power?”

“The worst thing you can do to a Terran is try to force them into doing anything. Even if it would be an action beneficial to them, or something they would wish to do normally, as soon as you try to bend their will to your own, they will fight back regardless of the reason why. It is in their nature. They are Laheh’s will, and a god will not allow themselves to be chained upon a mortal’s wishes.”

Zantari gave their own forlorn sigh, feeling a lot less confident in what would eventually be an inevitable meeting with the Terrans, foreseeing that the entire thing would become a disaster as soon as various Ghirlinn started trying to forcibly ‘aid’ the chaos primates.

“That might be a problem,” Zantari said, gloomily.

The Kruku diplomat did not know of the disparity between themselves, the Terrans and the Ghirlinn. The Terrans had the powers of gods, the idea of there being more than the force of nature who had saved them from the Raha was… inconceivable. He didn’t know of the importance of meeting with Zantari. If he did, he might not have offered the aid that he did, the idea that someone like the Kruku could ever help someone like the Ghirlinn would be insanity. All the Kruku priest saw was someone who shared their own adoration for the Terrans.

“Do not worry my child, I am here.” The Kruku placed a giant stubby hand upon the shoulder of Zantari. “I will teach you everything I’ve learned about interacting with the Terrans, and then you too can be enlightened by their gifts and kindness.”