A lot of âhumans are weirdâ posts play with the idea that humans are one of the few species that actually evolved as a predator and, as such, we are unusually strong and fastâ but what if weâre not.
What if, to the majority of species in the galaxy, ten feet tall is unusually shortâ it basically only happens due to rare genetic conditionsâ and the average human is basically cat sized or smaller?
Instead of being terrified by our strength, the aliensâ most pressing concern is how exactly theyâre going to communicate with us when weâre all the way down on the ground.
There are experiments, with aliens crouching low or humans standing on high platformsâ but it usually ends up being either uncomfortable for the alien or dangerous for the human, or both, and just generally impractical for everyone.
But, while the diplomats and politicians are trying to figure out a dignified and simple solution, the ordinary people who actually have to work with the aliens have found one. Humans are, generally, pretty good climbers, and most species have conveniently places scales, feathers, fur or clothing that can act as a hand or foothold. Sure, some humans have a fear of heights, but those arenât typically the ones going into space. Besides, climbing on a living alien often feels safer than climbing up a rock or somethingâ at least you know youâve got somebody to catch you.
Soon it becomes accepted that thatâs the way humans travel with aliensâ up high, easy to see and hard to tread on (there were quite a few⌠near misses, in the first few meetings between humans and aliens), balanced on somebodyâs shoulder like the overgrown monkeys that we are.
Many humans see this as kind of an insult and absolutely refuse to go along with it, but they arenât the ones who end up spending a lot of time with aliensâ itâs just too inconvenient to talk to somebody all the way down on the ground. The ones that do best are the ones who just treat it like itâs normal, allowing themselves to be carried (at least, itâs âcarryingâ when the aliens are within earshot. Among themselves, most humans jokingly refer to it as 'ridingâ), and passing on tips to their friends about the best ways to ride on different species without damaging feathers, or stepping on sensitive spots (or, in at least one case, ending up with a foot full of poisonous spinesâŚ).
The reason they donât feel patronised by this is that they know, and they know that nearly everyone else in the galaxy knows, that humans are not just pets.
After all, youâd be surprised when a small size comes in handy.
Need somebody to look at the wiring in a small and fairly inaccessible area of the ship? Ask a human.
Need somebody to fix this fairly small and very detailed piece of machinery? Ask a human, theyâre so small that their eyes naturally pick up smaller details.
Trapped under rubble and need somebody to crawl through a small gap and get help? Ask a humanâ most can wriggle through any gap that they can fit their head and shoulders through.
If youâre a friend, humans can be very useful. If, on the other hand, youâre an enemyâŚ
Rumours spread all around the galaxy, of ships that threatened humans or human allies and started experiencing technical problems. Lights going off, wires being cutâ in some cases, the cases where the threats were more than just words and humans or friends of humans were killed, life support lines have been severed, or airlocks have mysteriously malfunctioned and whole crews have been sucked out into space.
If the subject comes up, most humans will blame it on âgremlinsâ and exchange grim smiles when theyâre other species friends arenât looking.
By this point, most ships have a crew of humans, whether they like it or not. Lots of humans, young ones generally, the ones who want to see a bit of the universe but donât have the money or connections to make it happen any other way, like to stowaway on ships. Theyâll hang around the space ports, wait for a shipâs door to open and dart on in. The average human can have quite a nice time scurrying around in the walls of an alien ship, so long as theyâre careful not to dislodge anything important.
Normally nobody notices them, and the ones that do tend not  to say anythingâ itâs generally recognised that having humans on your ship is good luck.
If there are humans on your ship, they say, then anything you lose will be found within a matter of days, sometimes even in your quarters; any minor task you leave outâ some dishes that need to be cleaned, a report that needs to be spellchecked, some calculations that need to be doneâ will be quickly and quietly completed during the night; any small children on the ship, who are still young enough to start to cry in the night, will be soothed almost before their parents even wake, sometimes even by words in their own tongue, spoken clumsily through human vocal chords. If any of the human are engineers (and a lot of them are, and still more of them arenât, but have picked up quite a few tricks on their travels from humans who are) then minor malfunctions will be fixed before you even notice them, and your ship is significantly less likely to experience any major problems.
The humans are eager to earn their keep, especially when the more grateful aliens start leaving out dishes of human-safe foods for them.
This, again, is considered good luckâ especially since the aliens who arenât kind to the humans often end up losing things, or waking up to find that their fur has been cut, or the report they spent hours on yesterday has mysteriously been deleted.
To human crew members, who work on alien ships out in the open, and have their names on the crew manifest and everything, these small groups of humans are colloquially referred to as 'shipâs ratsâ. Thereâs a sort of uneasy relationship between the two groups. On the one hand, the crew members regard the shipâs rats as spongers and potential nuisancesâ on the other hand, most human crew members started out as shipâs rats themselves, and now benefit from the respect (and more than a little awe) that the shipâs rats have made most aliens feel for humans. The general arrangement is that shipâs rats try to avoid ships with human crew members and, when they canât, then they make sure to stay out of the crew membersâ way, and the crew members who do see one make sure not to mention them to any alien crew members.
The aliens who know, on the other hand, have gotten into the habit of not calling them by nameâ mainly because theyâre shaky as the legality of this arrangement, and donât want to admit that anythingâs going on. Instead they talk about âthe little peopleâ or âthe ones in the wallsâ or, more vaguely, âThemâ.
Their human friendsâ balancing on their shoulders, occasionally scurrying down and arm so as to get to a table, or jumping from one personâs shoulder to another, in order to better follow the conversationâ laugh quietly to themselves when they hear this.
Back before the first first contact, lot of people on Earth thought that humans would become space orcs. Little did they know, theyâd actually end up as space fae.
