V's Space Orcs

unauthorized tunnels keep popping up in restricted zones

theft of various items they consider cozy, delicious, cute, or extremely hazardous

equipment sabotaged in supposedly impossible ways, and/or supposedly explosion-proofed material exploding

received communications vary from heartfelt pleas for freedom to vengeful declarations of war to treatises on the sacred rights of spaceship-occupants to disturbingly specific threats to incomprehensible slam poetry

Encouraging a volunteer human colony to thrive:

leaving items they like + building materials in areas they can access, then coming back later to find those areas transformed into fully organized warehouses/gardens/workshops

items left lying around spontaneously being made cuter, cozier, tastier, and/or more hazardous

new workarounds, temp fixes, or repurposes being tried out on any equipment that's on the fritz (and some that's not)

disturbingly creative and fervent allies against outside forces

of my favorite things and

I am ASCENDING

Humans will not restrict their symbiotic relationships to the dominant sentient species on a starship. It is highly recommended that, if you have discovered a nesting colony of humans on your ship or starbase, you provide them with the recommended resources. Otherwise, they may wind up in a symbiotic relationship with various predator species. Or your AI bots. Or carnivorous fungi.

The galaxy called us "the librarians" once upon a time. Now we were mostly a legend. But still there were records. All that was left. Besides me. Until now.

This person was in all likelihood a hybrid human or an evolutionary diversion. Folklore was folklore. Reality was reality.

We sat there staring at each other for a moment. They didn't blink.

A thousand emotions flooded me as I realized I wasn't the last librarian after all. This person was a distant cousin but a cousin nonetheless.

"Hello, cousin," was all I could think to say. It had been a way to welcome other humans into your life, once upon a time.

They blinked. "Hello, cousin."

Then they smiled.

Librarians were known as a former predator species. But this cousin's smile was all hunter. The hair on the back of my neck and on my arms rose.

They're just a little different, I reminded myself. Don't let that pesky "uncanny valley" instinct get you. They're just a little different from me.

"We'll let you two get acquainted then! I'm sure you have a lot to talk about," the captain said kindly.

The crewmates looked on with excitement, and I couldn't tell them I was afraid of this so called human. That would be incredibly rude. You don't go around the galaxy accusing every being who sets off your "danger" instincts of being dangerous.

Life was too varied in form and function across the galaxy for that. A perfectly safe being from another world may look like a dangerous creature from your ancestors past. This lead to many misunderstandings and unnecessary wars across time. So instincts only go so far nowdays.

"What exactly are you?" I asked as soon as the others left. "You're not fully human, right?"

"No," they smiled again, sending a shiver down my spine.

That's strange. Most galactic species have lost the instinct that makes hybrid cousins frightening. Was it because I was the last human?

"Cousin," I began.

"Not a cousin," it said, putting up one finger and waving it at me. "I'm from Earth. But I am not one of the librarians."

"Then... What are you?"

A slow smile crept across its face. Somehow the shadows in the oxygen dependent quarters seemed to lengthen and move.

"I am the Other." It said, waving its hand with a flourish. "I am the last of my kind. As you are the last of yours."

"The Other?"

It clicked its tongue at me disapprovingly.

"Surely the last librarian knows," it said. "Those things that lived... Just on the other side of humanity. The tricksters. The ones who make deals. The ones that look human, but not quite right."

It gave another unsettling smile, though this one seemed a bit sad.

"Is that why I'm afraid of you?"

"Fear when your own shadow speaks back to you is normal, no?"

I thought for a moment.

"Did you seek me out on purpose?"

"Oh, the last human is sharp. I like that. Yes, it took me some time since you left the library behind but I finally found you."

"And what are you going to do with me?"

It grinned.

The humans hate this so, so much.

Zorf: Human Steve, can you please play that song I like, the one with all the females

Steve: what

Zorf: A little bit of Monica in my life

Steve:

Human technicians start hopping ships and upkeeping the general maintenance, the stuff that most aliens put off or don't notice because they never access the crevices of their ships. As human companies become more popular and lead the tech world in everything from warp cores to game stations ("it's so compact! How are the graphics so good?" Says a 60' tall grimbleback, holding a new VR headset that has all of its components included because it's so BIG by our tech standards), soon many things have accessibility ports for humans to be able to use as well. This means that these shiprats hoping ship to ship cause such a huge improvement in everything running smoothly, and there's a huge downtick in pests on ships because those "pests" are not only big enough and aggressive enough to bite a pitbull or a person in half, they're invasive to so many planets and humans hate nothing more than dog killing planet overrunning monsters.

All the while, from the Aliens perspective, humans are an elusive race that don't fraternize much with them. You almost never see a human as most places aren't exactly safe for the little things to run around in. They do export so much stuff though, and the custodial staff at the Central Galactic Outpost insists that there's more humans around than any other race if you just know where to look.

And sure it's somewhat known that some of the little daredevils hop ships and help out in exchange for room and board, usually without permission, but that can't be that common, can it?

Maybe your ship is running better this cycle ever since you stopped at the last station, that just means that tuneup was better than you thought. And maybe for some reason that program you were working on last night is finished when you wake up, but you're so tired maybe you finished it before you passed out. Somehow that faulty light in the galley has fixed itself as well, which is odd, but maybe the Engineer finally got to it. You'd know if there was someone else on your ship.

Right?

What if aliens don't have this? Like. What if they find out when one of us was looking at something in the distance, and they walk around this thing that's in front of them, and the alien is confused so they bob their head and oh, there's a thing there, but how did the human know that, and then we explain and they're like, horrified.

You can see this by looking at a clock with a ticking second hand. The first time you move your eyes to it, the tick you see will seem to take longer than usual. That's because your visual system lied about how long you saw that tick, because you were blind for part of the time you thought you were seeing it. (fun fact: we don't see the same thing with moving objects, but only because our vision system "fakes the footage" of them moving while we were blind, because it understands consistent motion)

We… were not. 

War had ravaged us, and sickness, and war once again, until our population dwindled beyond the point of recovery. We struggled against that, of course… we used genetic manipulation, and cloning, and even more desperate measures. None succeeded. When the humans came, we were sinking into apathy, only a few tens of us left. We had begun to discuss whether we should commit a mass suicide, or simply wait to fade away. 

And then the young species came, in their clumsy ships, and they asked us why we were so few. 

“We are becoming extinct,” we told them. “We have passed the point of recovery.” 

It is custom to avoid the races that are dying – once a species reaches the point of inevitable extinction, even war is suspended, and the fiercest enemy pulls back. The custom was born of plagues and poisons that could be carried forth from a dying world to afflict a healthy one, but it has the implacable weight of tradition now. After we are gone, after they have waited for the prescribed period of quarantine, there will be a fight for our world. Habitable worlds are few, and this is a good one, with plenty of free groundwater and thriving vegetation. It is a bitter thing to be grateful for the custom that allows us to die in peace, but we are grateful.

But the humans don’t know that custom, and they do not leave. They seem distraught, when we tell them we are dying, and try to offer their aid - but their technology is behind ours, and it is too late. When they realize that they can’t save us, though, they do something that bewilders us. 

I had an idea today that alien ships might hire "The Human!" A person who is just there to just stand there and looks like the be the big, tough, indestructible threat of a being that the galaxy knows humans are.

Doesnt matter who the human is. Big or small, male or female, a tough soldier or more gentle than a newborn. They just have to be present and let the reputation of humans speak for itself.

Is the captain trying to enforce an unpopular regulation on the crew? Ask The Human to have a private meeting and voice the complaints.

Trying to sell some goods but the buyer wants to renegotiate the price to be more unfair to you? Ask The Human to be there at the negotiating table.

That jerk at the bar keeps pestering you with their mating display, because they want to be the one to fertilize your eggs wont take no for an answer? Ask The Human to escort you back to your quarters.

Of course humanity finally abandoned its planet. Everyone was surprised they hadn’t abandoned it sooner. Still, the concern was there.

What made humanity abandon their planet in a mass event? What thing was finally found to scare them off their favorite death world?

Of course not every last human abandoned the planet, but enough did that Earth was no longer considered ‘inhabited’. Humans flocked to other worlds, most choosing death worlds with similar biomes to the ones they preferred. (And there was a suspiciously armored ship heading towards Disney planet.)

The concerning thing was the humans kept going back. Never landing. Never breaking the atmosphere. Just driving by.

Finally, a delegate was chosen to ask the human council member. Poor Laeri was nervous, but they had been called friend by council member Daryl before. Surely this question wouldn’t be an offense.

“Daryl, may I speak with you a moment?”

Daryl paused, and nodded, careful not to smile. He was well practiced in the art of not offending. “Of course Laeri. What is the matter?”

“Humanity has recently applied for habitation permits for a dozen planets. As soon as the permits were awarded, humans left very quickly.”

“Well sure. The permits took three earth years to be approved. Most of the planet had been preparing for over five years at that point,” Daryl explained.

“Yes, that is not my question. The question is why?”

“Why were they ready?”

Laeri shook their head. “Why did they leave Earth? Humans have made it a point to ‘stick it out’ despite better options being available. Why leave now?”

“Oh, that. Well.” Daryl paused. He knew he didn’t have to report officially yet, but his friend wanted to know. “Will you keep it a secret from the council?”

Laeri paused. The answer being a secret did not occur to them. What could the humans possibly be hiding? Would they be able to hide it as well?

“I do not think I can keep any dangerous thing a secret,” Laeri finally admitted.

Daryl nodded. “Nor would I ask you to. It’s not dangerous, just a little experiment more like.”

“If it is an experiment, then you should speak with-“

“No Laeri.” Daryl interrupted calmly. “This isn’t something we want help with. That’s why we haven’t mentioned anything to the Viyon Academics. We just need time to see if it works.”

Their curiosity finally got the better of them.

“If what works?”

“A new society. A new civilized species.”

Laeri didn’t speak, but either from awe or concern, they weren’t sure. Daryl continued.

“We believe a species evolves when they start to take care of their injured and impaired. It means they have compassion. Well an intelligent species on earth has been observed showing compassion. We simply want to give them the space they require to evolve.”

Laeri considered the intelligent species that lived on earth. They were suddenly very concerned. Had the humans been duped?

“The dolphi are showing compassion?” Laeri asked.

Daryl almost laughed. “Not even close. No, we wouldn’t break the agreement we made. They’re not escaping earth anytime soon.”

Laeri felt immediate relief. “Then which species is it?”

Daryl smiled. He couldn’t help it. He liked birds. “Corvids.”

“But, but they’re so small.”

“We know. That’s why some humans are still there, zoologist types to help them grow, learn, and show them the way.”

“What if another species wipes them out before they get the chance?”

Daryl shrugged. “Well that’s why we left some warriors behind, to help keep the corvids alive while they grow. And of course to keep the dolphins contained. We do take that assignment very seriously.”

Laeri was excited now. Another avian species may be joining the galaxy soon. They wanted to tell everyone.

“Promise you’ll keep the secret?” Daryl asked.

Laeri felt their excitement dash upon the cruel rocks of reality. “I will.”

“Good. Here.” Daryl held out a small computer drive.

Laeri took the drive. “What is this?”

“The live feed of the experiment. You really think we wouldn’t watch? As soon as they reach civilized status, I have to report them. Until then, they’ve been completing some very complex puzzles and problem solving lately. You’ll want to start at the beginning but they post new information all the time.”

Laeri clutched the drive to their feathered tunic. Suddenly the small drive was priceless. “I, must go now.”

Laeri took off as fast as would be ignored by others. Daryl watched his friend, surprised by how excited they were. His watch gave him an alert.

“Ooh, a group puzzle. Wonder if they managed it this time.”

They're chaotic and messy and invasive. They talk. So much. I doubt I will become close to the new human.

Voyage Log 199: The new human arrived some time ago. They seem different from the way their species is typically described. They're..... quiet. They keep to themselves but aren't unfriendly when approached. I'm not sure what to make of them.

Voyage Log 210: Human Chris has taken sitting at the same table as me during meals. We don't speak and keep a respectable distance. It's... not unpleasant.

Voyage Log 219: Chris is fond of gardening as well! It is a difficult hobby to have on a ship. They have shared several tips as to how I can improve the health of my Hyacinths.

Voyage Log 241: I have been suspended from active duty for breaking Von's olfactory sensor. I assured the Captain that I did it on a whim and certainly not because Von destroyed Chris's Geranium. I am most definitely not attached to the Human.

but what if it’s just the other way around

what if humans are notoriously straitlaced and obsessed with protocol. the bureaucrats of the stars.

which is obviously something we would constantly try to complain about and disprove only for some Alpha Centaurian to be like “Captain, your species formalized spirituality, repeatedly, and a recurring theme therein is that the heavens themselves are run as a bureaucracy. Even your rebellions and revolutions are meticulously planned.”

it’s not a bad thing, per se, to have a human on your team — analytical minds, good diplomats (if only because one human etiquette system can be more complex and even contradictory than the vastly varied customs of an entire species) — but be prepared for them to call attention to moral quandaries and loopholes that never would have occurred to you.

“First of all, it wasn’t a mass movement, and second of all, the boat was by no means the first time nor the last.”

Like most sapient species assume the above; humans are straitlaced, meticulous, and methodical. They follow strict rules which dictate their social interactions and even a slight variation is considered taboo. They are the quintessential bureaucrats.

Except when they’re not.

We’ve talked about humans method of scientific exploration and advancement involving a ridiculous amount of danger for all parties involved. But, ya know, we write it all down in a very orderly manner and get published and peer reviewed. And then other humans copy the incredibly dangerous experiment to see what happens for themselves.

Humans survived the volatile early years of their species rise through community-bonding. They put the needs of a group of individuals over all else; hunting as a group, eating as a group, raising families as a group, and sometimes dying as a group. This tendency to form strong bonds means that while a human’s signed contract can always be trusted. It also means that a human cannot be trusted to not rip that contract up and say “Fuck it” if an individual with whom they have a community-bond is in danger. Other species are baffled to discover that the individual in question need not be human, or even sapient. Stories of humans who have defended what would normally be considered prey animals by other omnivorous species, of humans who have killed to defend their non-human crew mates, even one story (surely just a story, it can’t be true) of an entire crew of humans who elevated a simple non-sapient cleaning bot to officer’s rank and threatened rebellion if it was decommissioned.

So, sure, humans are logical and awfully organized for such a diverse species. They make phenomenal bureaucrats and politicians. They’re highly sought after as strategists and advisors to royalty the galaxy over.

Rahn closes all six of her eyes, heart sinking into her thorax. A fine tremor starts in her vestigial wings. “So it’s true. They’ve returned to their bloodthirsty crusade.”

Undan nods miserably. The holo-pad in his hands shows the details of the crisis; six ships already attached to the planet holding their Boundary Station. A thousand V’afinog are holding the planet hostage. It’s only a matter of time before they assume complete control of the Boundary Station and can open the relay of shields between their galaxy and Rahn’s.

Rahn doesn’t bother with denial. Yes, there’s supposed to be a treaty between their Galaxies. Yes, the V’afinog are breaking that treaty and risking every trade agreement that keeps them alive in their barren corner of the universe. Yes, it’s beyond imagination, beyond comprehension.

But it’s happening. 

She makes a conscious effort to hold her wings still. “The Station?”

“Still unbreached,” Undan reports. He twists the pad around so she can see the glowing red dots that mark the V’afinog troops. “However, they’re making short work of our shields. Ma’am, I don’t think we have a choice. They’re too fast.”

“On my grandmother’s wings,” Rahn whispers. This is the worst possible scenario, a scenario so awful that there is only one course of action left. “All these years holding them back wasted because those bloodthirsty lizards can’t keep a single promise.”

Undan’s wings flutter uncomfortably. He doesn’t need to ask who this new they are. “Our relations with them are quite good, ma’am. I don’t think there’s too much cause for alarm. They’ll help us.”

Rahn stares at him in horror. “Undan, you befriended one, didn’t you?”

“That’s not– I’m just saying they’ll help–”

Human, chewing on their hand: my palm itches.

Alien crewmate: what?! You sure you haven't got space madness? You're putting your dexterous appendage in that venomous mouth of yours...

Human: it's fine as long as I don't break skin.

Alien, flabbergasted: but why teeth? You have another hand, don't you?

Human: human palms have very thick skin so it's difficult to scratch itches there. I'm chewing on it because my teeth can more easily apply enough pressure to get the itch.

Alien, unconvinced: alright but where's the human enrichment kit? I think we should get you tinkering.

Human: oh good idea! The wire brush can scratch my palm too!

Alien: then why didn't you try that first?

Human, shrugging: teeth were closer

Alien: "human, what is this itching and why does it necessitate dental pressure?"

Human: "oh, its just irritated skin."

Alien: "so your solution to irritated skin is to irritate it further? And is such irritation not caused by exposure to caustic chemicals?"

Human: *shrugs* "it feels good, and it makes the itching go away. And yeah, chemicals can cause it, or splinter, or insect bites. infections can cause rashes that itch too. Oh and some plants have a toxin that causes painful itchiness if you touch them."

Alien: *eyes bugging out as he almost shouts at the idiot human* "you might have dangerous chemicals, or toxins, or infectious bacteria on your hand! And you put it in Your mouth? Go to sick bay!"

Human: "what? No! It's fine! It just happens sometimes. My mate reckons it's the demodex."

Alien: "the... What?"

Human: "demodex, microscopic mites that live on your skin and eat dead cells. Everyone has them."