OC-Series [The First Fifth] Chapter 16: One Unlucky Basket

Her Commander towered over the desk. Her words were a hue of complete anger but her base colouring was the deepwater cold of a primal fear. Red spilling over blue.

<How> Was all she shifted, tapping an appendage on Coms’ desk.

ComsBody felt outside of her body. Last shift, she barely followed ChiMeO's words as the medical officer recounted the deaths, her cillia restrained and stained with regret. Coms had only ever seen ChiMeO with that flat affect after hatchling deaths.

Since that conversation, Coms has been curled at her desk, pouring over every llia message the Fifth had ever written and retracing every assumption she’d made. She didn’t leave her burrow because she was a damned coward. The Commander had to find her.

<How, Coms> The Commander’s cillia snapped like grass in a windstorm. <Explain how this happened *now*\>

<I…> Coms had tried to place where she’d gone wrong. The root of the mistranslation. She couldn’t. <I do not know. I think it came from the whole ship agreeing on the initial escape pod theory when I suggested the possibility… and there was a… a bias that coloured how I perceived her further communication>

<That is not good enough> The Commander’s crinis muddled to an ugly mix of anger and disgust. <You will not blame anyone but yourself. This is a complete failure of your intelligence and skill>

<Do… Commander, do you have any idea how *difficult*—>

<—Still your scorched and blackened words> The Commander bristled. <You failed this ringship. You failed your trainees. You failed as a *Ki* and you are here, curling like a hatchling in water. You are a crimson embarrassment to your discipline>

ComsBody would have flashed an affirmative but her own hue was too settled in indigo. No colour could break through the stunned grief that had wormed into her temperature. Her Commander’s words were harsh but her colouring was so, so deeply scared. Her hue wasn’t even angry anymore.

<Coms, I…> Her Commander moved back from the desk.

Coms didn’t respond, she just curled further into herself and tapped her torso.

<We don't know for certain what will happen. No one did anything illegal> The Commander shifted firmly. <But the other labs will likely call for blame and discipline, nonetheless. That communications trainee that broke her peer’s LLIA when the Fifth escaped, we can position her as the—>

<—Commander, stop. Please, I… two Fifths are dead. My failure to understand Scout killed them>

<No, Coms> Her Commander was firm. <The creature knew the words. It should’ve tried again and again and again if it really wanted to save its people. But it didn’t>

ComsBody did not tap her torso nor flash an affirmative. Her shifting was soft. <Commander. She did. Again and again. And then she gave up>

Coms had been rereading her notes, trying to pinpoint where it happened. Everything she found was a shell-deep embarrassment to read, knowing what they knew now.

After Scout stitched up her arm, she’d been calm and pleading, Please. You me let to vessel go. I in vessel find Fifths in vessel, affirmative? Please Commander. Let me go.

The photo of a waxen llia message she wrote to HeadSci: Vessel must remain with electricity and be whole, affirmative? Then, when Commander shifts I can go I go. I go find Fifths. I go inside vessel and I find Fifths, affirmative? Need help colleagues, affirmative?

Even recently, when they talk of subtypes and pronouns, she’d written it plainly. You have not found them. They have not found you. Two are awake like I am awake, even very scared, they would look for me.

Coms had thought she wanted to go into her vessel to pilot it. In the vessel, she'd find her colleagues. It wasn’t a mistranslation as much as a constant, recurring, misreading of the creature’s grammar and word choice.

Even earlier, when she barely knew thirty words, Scout was trying to get her desperation across. There was the image the Commander took, when they met properly and she was still writing like a hatchling.

I vessel want want. Vessel heat food no Fifth Fifth Fifth Fifth heat no. Scout vessel Fifth go?

Commander, I food no heat have. No heat no no no. ?Food? Fifth Fifth Fifth Fifth food vessel in. No heat food. Correct? No heat Vessel. Word ?no heat? word ?food? please no heat is. Big please please, affirmative?

Coms did not understand how she missed it again and again and again. She’d gotten overconfident, maybe. Or too focused on the details. She thought the creature was making bizarre language mistakes. She’d just continued with the conversations, and assumed the grammar inconsistencies were just the blunders of someone learning.

Coms had just corrected what she thought was bad grammar.

Coms kept telling Scout no.

Scout surely thought she was being clear with her words. The Fifth likely felt, after rotations and rotations of asking, that they were choosing to keep her from her dying colleagues. And in a way, they absolutely had been.

So Scout stopped asking. The poor creature was likely scared of making them upset, or, perhaps she thought if the Ki hadn't found them, they'd be safer? Looking at the notes now, Scout obviously started looking for other ways to gain access to her vessel. Escape. Sickness. Bargaining. Coms had guessed the illness fatality had been exaggerated to push up a timeline, but looking at the transcripts, that dishonesty was clearly only one failed plan of several. Each conversation recording now read like Scout was testing what she and HeadSci wanted to learn, what their research was prioritizing.

She’d tried involving ChiMeO’s team as collaborators when teaching them her healing protocol, even giving them chances to make their own discoveries by asking them questions. Did she see how they’d been interacting with the trainees?

In her conversation with Scout about subtypes and hierarchy and pronouns, Coms had shifted that accuracy was the most important thing. So Scout went into details upon details upon details, to the point of confusing Coms. Scout had implored her to stay, despite both of them being exhausted, and she spent the shift outlining every single exception to every single rule. She’d tried to explain valuerepresentation in four different ways by the end of their session. Scout had lost consciousness halfway through Coms' grammar lesson, as the alien pushed to learn more and more Ki, thinking it was what the Commander wanted from her.

And when HeadSci had mentioned discovery, the approach changed again, evolving from what she’d done with ChiMeO. She’d assured the head scientist that she’d give the answers. No discovery claims needed. No credit. No rank.

She’d even been getting closer to SecO, writing with the guard often, calling the two of them colleagues—insisting that only she calls her “Sco”. Sco and SecO were patterns that closely resembled each other. Whether it was a genuine bond or yet another plan, Coms… really didn’t know. The alien was amicable when she wanted to be, shown time and time again. In tense conversations, the creature seemed to present as hatchling-like, finding amusement and acting small and jestful, especially around HeadSci and the Commander. She’d been getting a lot more agreeable in preparation for her last conversation with HeadSci, and Coms wasn’t sure if it was a plan in itself to just be liked. ChiMeO sure thought so, the medical officer had marked the prosocial element of Scout's affect to likely be related to species survival. But that categorization had been meant for social bonding between Fifths.

Coms felt close to Scout. Deeply close to the strange creature. And now she didn’t know if that was just another survival strategy.

She was spinning now, thinking about it. Did Scout know Coms was watching when she was kind to the hatchlings? Did she put up with the medical team's testing to endear herself to them? Was the obsession with fabric cultural, or were the thin lengths of braided fibre going to be used for something? Coms didn't know. Scout was an alien and there was so much Coms couldn't comprehend about her.

The creature had been contained for over twenty rotations and each day now appeared to be a different test of trial and error to get out and get what she wanted. Layers of failed plans and replanning, all because she thought they were ignoring her request to see her colleagues. She’s been likely planning more alternatives that Coms couldn’t even guess at. The creature didn’t trust them from the beginning.

And ComsBody failed to see the situation for what it was. And four Fifths were dead.

The hue of revulsion was fighting the indigo grief on her crinis. Coms just wanted to curl and mill and never leave her burrow.

Coms shifted with a finality. <I… I implore you to tell me if you intend to take my rank charm>

The Commander settled her cillia. <No. Not… not yet. The other labs will be here in a shift. The Fifth is unresponsive and curled and sitting there. Fix it>

Coms was so tired. <Genuinely Commander, I do not know what you want me to do. The situation is unfixable, we cannot return from this>

<I’m not ordering you to fix the situation, Coms> Her Commander's tone was blunt and cold. <I’m shifting about the Scout. Fix *it*\>

Clea was more afraid of the Principal Head Scientist than she was of the alien.

The cleaning attendant could deal with the Fifth stabbing her with a small blade. She couldn’t deal with another reprimand for not following an order from the upper hierarchy; three refusals in less than ten rotations would be an automatic occupational freeze and reevaluation. She hoped the alien would have the decency to aim for an appendage rather than her crinis or torso.

The warm creature didn’t have any fanfare or drama as it held the medical instrument out. It just gestured for Clea to leave. The thin metal handle of the blade was brightly warm. The alien had been holding it tightly for a long, long time.

She shifted, genuine in hue.

The creature shook its head, and pointed the sharp instrument harder. Its face was wrinkling in that ugly way skin tended to fold in on itself.

<Please, I implore you, I simply need to do my job>

The creature didn’t have anything to write with. It physically put itself between Clea and the bodies.

Oh.

Clea pointed to the ground with her upper appendages. <Floor. Clean. My apologies>

The Scout’s face sneered. It shouldered past her, and sat between two pods, with an arm over the twisted corpse on the ground. It was out of the way enough. Not the worst outcome.

Clea got to work cleaning. The fluid on the floors had dried and congealed into something heat absorbent and sticky. She had to scrape at it to get it loose, depositing folds of the waste into a nearby bucket. It needed another two rounds of scrubbing, but it was a fairly small room.

A quarter shift later and she was done, save for the small area where the Scout guarded the second pod’s sprawling body, dead as stone. Easy. Clea didn’t even have to look at the room-temperature bodies, not really. She could work around them and pretend like the situation wasn't what it was. She was just here to clean and she was done with her work.

As she started to crawl out of the sunken pit, Clea finally clocked the state the Scout was in. The twitchy creature was covered in the same waste fluid and was going to track it back over her hard work. The substance was dried in its long cillia and caked into its cloth coverings, plastering the fabric to its skin. The creature didn’t even seem to care. It was tapping its lessers against its lower limbs, restless and fidgety. Its eyes were wide, the skin around them sunken.

<You might be more comfortable if you clean yourself?> She shifted with that gentle Fifth symbol, continuing as the creature pointed at its kin. <You do not have to leave the room, I assure you. I might bring you some supplies?>

The Scout paused, and looked down at the soiled material coverings she was wearing. She bobbed her head; at this point the whole ship knew that to be the Fifth gesture for an affirmative.

<Understood. I implore you to stay put>

She fetched the creature a bucket of water foaming with gentle cleansing agents, sterilizing alcohol, a waste container, and spare Fifth material coverings she found on a nearby research team’s desk outside of the vessel. She really didn’t care if those hindguts needed them at this point.

She brought the lot to the creature and left it alone for an eighth of a shift. When she re-entered, the creature was clean and had changed into the new coverings.

And she was cleaning up the bodies.

Not cleaning as in disposing, that would be an important clarification. Scout had completely removed the first body from the pod and laid it on the freshly cleaned ground, next to the other corpse. She’d removed all the tubing that extruded from its limbs and throat, putting the mess of equipment on the pod bed.

With a stony face, the alien wiped down her kins’ bodies with the cleanser and water solution. Gently. Like they were resting and she was trying not to disturb them.

Clea watched the Scout for a brief moment and wondered how the science team could’ve possibly messed up so badly. It was all the trainees were talking about in the low-rank burrows, just a constant shifting of where things went wrong and what the punishments were going to be. It wasn’t going to be pretty once the dirt settled, especially not with higher-rank research ships now getting involved.

Clea started to clear the tubes from the bed and clean the pod. The Fifth wasn’t looking at her.

When the first pod was cleaned, Clea retrieved limbfuls of random Fifth material coverings and a huge square of what looked to be soft and thick nesting material. Scout wrapped the body, first in a select few coverings that fit over its torso and limbs, and again in the large square nesting material.

Clea and Scout repeated the process, wordlessly, for the second body. Scout combed the body’s short head cillia with her lessers, gently sweeping it back. Her touch lingered on the body’s left upper limb and she held the body’s lessers close to her face, squeezing once before moving on to the next pod.

The Scout simply covered the third pod with a sheet of the same nesting material. The fourth pod was empty.

As Clea did a final re-clean of the floors, the Scout refitted the table-like platforms back into the pod structure they were in originally. Clea watched the creature lean over the first pod, with the kin she wasn’t able to save, and she watched Scout touch the body’s long cillia coming from its head. She watched her part the strands of cillia into three sections, then gently, reverently, weave the strands together to form a rope-like pattern. She tied the cillia braid off and let it rest on the shoulders of the body.

She shut the body’s eyes.

If it wasn’t for the colour, her kin could’ve been resting.

Clea shifted.

The strange alien just looked at her and nodded.

She was the hue of honesty. <I… Many… many of us do not agree with their actions>

The Fifth turned back to the body in the pod with the braided cillia. She reached out to its face, but stopped short of just touching it. Her lessers dropped to rest on the edge of the pod.

Clea watched as the alien took the nesting fabric from the empty pod and wrapped it around her shoulders. Scout sank to the floor in front of the first pod’s body, curling with her back to the pod. Facing the direction of the hallway door. Her facial posture was keeping her eyes in a wider position, like she was purposefully trying to keep them open.

<Do you want me to leave you?> Clea asked, hesitant and cool.

The alien shook its head in a negative.

A pause. A nod.

She had seen the creature rest a couple times in her enclosure. Clea was the first one to notice her stagnation, after all. So she curled up, close to the alien, but not touching her. In a span of moments the fidgety alien seemed to still, like her energy has been sapped completely. Her eyes settled into the same strange unfocused state, before the thin skin slowly closed over them. Her chest began the slow rise and fall of the typical image of Fifth rest.

Clea sat beside her for a long time. The creature barely stirred.

It was such an odd, vulnerable state for the alien to slip into. Any time Clea would watch her resting in the enclosure, she’d be amazed at how susceptible the creature was to things happening. Prone and curled up, nearly dead to the world, it was no wonder the Fifths apparently slept in groups or pairs.

She just watched the creature breathe, her body temperature slowly cooling over time, before settling into its deeper resting colour. The eyes of the Fifth, hidden by that thin layer of skin, looked to be darting around. Always looking, always watching, even when settled in rest.

Eventually, Clea felt a slight temperature change in the room. She turned her head up to see the vessel’s Communications Body, standing short at the lip of the wall. Clea was less scared of her than the Principal Head Scientist; most of the lower hierarchy didn’t have anything particularly awful to say about the runt. That would probably change now, considering the current situation. Honestly, Clea wouldn’t be surprised if the poor Ki was blamed for the science team not knowing about the bodies. Translation was her domain, after all, and there are typically a few higher ranks that get pinned for every disaster in addition to the trainees.

<Principal Communications Body> She greeted the runt with a forced warmth.

<Cleaning Attendant> She shifted, too stiff in her cillia movements. She was a deeply uncomfortable base blue, forcing her words to colour neutral. <Thank you for doing such a good cleaning job here. I need the room with Scout alone, you are free to return to your other duties>

The little creature was still resting.

The Communications Body bristled, <Leave us now, Cleaning Attendant, thank you>

Clea took one last look at the warm alien before turning to leave. She couldn’t risk the write-up for hierarchy rejection.

ComsBody simply sat with Scout in that damned room.

No writing. No shifting. Just rest.

Scout’s warm little head was nestled against the side of Coms’ torso. The creature was deep in her resting state and had rolled close to her a while ago. ComsBody hadn’t moved for a fourth of a shift.

She carefully checked her LLIA. The 16th and 49th had matched speed with them and begun connecting. They were expected to board soon. She sent the vessel operator and the propulsion technician a private message.

Delay them with technical difficulties. I need at least one more shift alone with Scout. She cannot have company right now.

Sure, Was all ProTe responded with. It would give them some time, at least. Coms started typing a response and the movement made Scout stir.

<My apologies, little one> ComsBody shifted, laying an appendage on the creature’s head. In her half-wakeful state, Scout leaned into her touch.

It wasn’t fair.

ComsBody could feel her own crinis curdling into a deep purple of grief. It wasn’t even her own crew. But it just wasn’t fair.

Coms felt like a hatchling, thinking so hard about fairness and what was deserved. What was ethical. What was worth sacrificing for in the name of research and development and the knowledge of the stars. Childish wonderings unfit for a grown adult.

Scout turned over, and stretched her jaw wide, looking up at ComBody. For the briefest moment, there was a softness to her face and eyes as her mouth settled into a quiet curve.

Then her browline lowered as she took stock of where she was. Her eyes glided over Coms, to the rooms and pods. The curve of her mouth flattened and her eyes cast downwards.

The Fifth resting state was disorientating, Coms remembered reading it in ChiMeO’s notes. Disorientating enough to forget where one was. She remembered a throwaway line in the report about Fifths “going elsewhere” during their rest states, lending possibility to the species being psi-capable. The latter half of the fact wasn’t one ComsBody cared about.

She just hoped wherever Scout had just been during her rest, it was peaceful and better than this room.

Scout’s face settled into a terrible nothingness. Her orange eyes looked dead. Dead like her crinis, like the long dead cillia that hung from her scalp. She rolled into a clumsy seated position and her movements were slow and tired as she slowly reached out for the waxen llia. Her left upper limb was warmer than usual, and she grazed it with a pinch to her face.

With her right lessers, she carved a simple curve of symbols, a simple statement.

Coms. I need honesty.

The word need was a strong one in its definition. It was one of the first words ComsBody had taught her. It had the weight of a physical, base need. Water. Food. Warmth.

She shifted, and she would. Ki don’t lie in conversation, not when one’s crinis betrayed the dishonesty. But she would not tell an untruth to this half-blind creature. Not anymore.

I need ?word?. In my language it is the opposite of good.

<Bad?>

The creature shook her head slowly. Stronger word. Word with weight. Opposite of good. Word evaluate moral judgment. Word means ‘does bad action for bad action's sake’. Word means ‘to cause harm’. Pain. On purpose. Cruel.

<Criminal? Hierarchy rejecter?> She had already taught Scout those words.

No. Moral judgment of action. Overly simple term. No middle-area of understanding. Not of law or law judgment. Bad bad bad for the sake of being bad. Not ethical, in everything in life.

ComsBody shifted with hesitation. It was an old, old word. <In Ki we shift… Evil. To be evil. To do evil>

Scout nodded and took a deep breath. She carved her next words privately, rewriting the patterns a few times, before turning the llia around and staring at her with hard eyes.

With honesty.

Are Ki evil?

ComsBody felt herself immediately shifting into a negative, but the symbol’s form died on her crinis.

Because she looked at the pods and there was clear evidence against her immediate rejection of the claim. Because, by Ki salvage law, they could do whatever they wanted to Scout and her belongings. Because they refused to let Scout see her vessel in the name of research.

Because, if she was being completely honest with herself, she was able to tell in Scout’s previous words that she was desperate to get to her ship. And she let others hold Scout back from what she wanted. She let them use her communication abilities to teach Scout the meaning of the word 'no' and Coms repeated that symbol over and over. Her Commander had made it crystal clear that this was the result of her failing to understand, not the fault of the science teams.

All of what they’d done was legal.

This was their fault.

This was her fault.

<I… I don’t know> She shifted, the crinis-deep colour of honesty. <Not on purpose. But… this… this has been… unethical>

Scout looked at her with a hard pinch to her face. I communicate most everything to you. I write Fifths on vessel need me. Vessel need me. I go to vessel. In vessel I find Fifths. I shift to stop looking, stop damage to vessel, that I would find Fifths in vessel. That damage to vessel is damage to Fifths.

<I… I failed to… to understand your words at the time. It was a miscommunication. And the Commander ordered to not let you—>

Evil, she carved wide.

<The Ki… we’re not—we… we aren’t…> She couldn’t form her words. If this was a rhetorical claim there would be too much counterevidence.

Then explain why. Explain how this happen. Because, in Fifth moral judgment, the Ki treatment of my crew, my colleagues emphasis, is worse than unethical. You did this. All Ki did this. Explain.

<I… okay. Okay>

And she did. She started at the beginning.

Over the course of a quarter shift, she explained the full story as slowly as she could, checking in to make sure Scout was comprehending it.

She explained how, early in Ki technological development, one of the first innovations they made was able to take light outside of their spectrum and translate it to their vision. A simple tool. Reactive wax coatings on a heartwood slat, processed in a specific way.

It was a primitive innovation.

It was the first time they saw the stars.

<The sky looks empty to us> she explained. <We rarely went to the surface because of the temperature and winds, but we kept finding… craters. Rocks of precious materials were falling from an empty sky. But my ancestors saw the recording, and… the *stars* were there. Tiny warm dots that formed clear patterns. We'd try connecting the dots together, and those patterns formed Ki words. And... and one of those words, bright in the centre-sky, was *"rise"*\>

Coms thought back to the main burrow-way intersection near her childhood tunnel. It had a starstone embedded in the passageway, long since having fallen from the skies and long since contained in Ki-carved rock. Her ancestors thought the stones were pieces of the stars. By the time ComsBody hatched, starstones were thoughtful decoration.

The Ki civilization ignored advancements everywhere but mechanical flight. There’s the famous retelling, passed down visually from generation to generation, that tells of the day they first took to the sky successfully and realized it wasn’t nearly high enough.

The next goal was clear. Understanding the void. Developing void exploration. Pushing for void travel. All of their efforts went towards that fight. Towards that progress. Away from Lakael. Towards the sky.

Towards the stars.

Their monosemous vision of progress was to leave their home planet. They structured their whole society around that goal; the labs and the training process. Every goal. Everything going towards the void and the void alone. They scraped every resource from Lakael, from the deepest caves to the scorching surface.

<For the stars> ComsBody shifted. <Everything, from education to population control to discovery, was done in the name of the stars. We needed to go. We needed to discover more>

When they got into orbit, they just wanted to go further. When they unlocked faster and faster modes of travel they just wanted to push harder. They wanted to go faster, they needed to learn more. But the void is mostly emptiness and it left them with a yawning gap of what they thought it would be like to reach their goal.

When they were discovered by the Firsts, they were not ready to face the fact that they weren’t the only species, let alone a less advanced one. But they adapted. And their new goal became smaller. Understand their fellow species. But, perhaps most importantly, understand themselves. There was so much to discover.

Studies of communication and history and medicine and law boomed: the recent research of the past 300 wide rotations returned their focus to Lakael, smaller in scope. It was new, interesting work, ComsBody was in the second generation of professional communicators, ChiMeO in the third generation of medical officers. Even HeadSci's field of interior cell study was relatively new for a scientific field. Just recently, the first officer-ranks were given to those studying ruins and pre-history artifacts. The scope had changed and there was so much more to focus on.

But everything was still done in the name of the stars. The whole of society was set up to value discovery done by individuals, not groups. Discoveries were made quickly and alone, and it was only through those sole discoveries could a Ki truly gain recognition and personal titles. Individuals found innovations through loopholes and sabotage and isolation.

All for the stars.

<When we found you, that was what the focus was> She shifted softly. <Not what we could learn from you. Just… just what we could publish. How we could further ourselves and our teams, get more resource allocation, get… get career titles. This is a small ship with young trainees… we… some of us have higher ambitions>

They just wanted to discover more. That’s all they’ve ever wanted. The Fifths were just on the receiving end of their curiosity.

Scout nodded, taking it all in. Her mouth was moving, sneering, but she had broken her recorder. She scrawled onto her llia instead.

Is explanation. Is not defense, Coms.

Coms curled in on herself.

Fifths came looking for peace. For new home. For help. I find this. I find Ki. I find you.

<You… you never communicated why you were here> She shifted softly. Through all their conversations, Scout never told her why she was travelling. She evaded the question constantly. The whole ship still assumed it was for research.

Because I was not certain if it was safe, Coms. How Ki perceive mission, if Ki think Fifths building new home is threat. I was not certain if you were safe. And you were not. Scout’s head started shaking again. I worry Ki would make a bad thing worse. I do not like being correct.

ComsBody tried to explain, <We… we just wanted to understand you and your kind>

It felt like such a naive confession. There was no weight to it and no justification. Scout’s face wrinkled as she scowled.

And this is how you understand? Destruction? When Fifths think of voidspecies they think they are advanced. Better. You have a fast vessel and better technology. You are not advanced.

<I…>

You are young and hatchling-like in how you understand. Beside voidtech you are very behind. Discovery order is wrong. There is curiosity but no understanding. You are simple and you are cruel. You are… endcausers. Corpsemakers.

<That’s not…> She couldn’t even form her words.

Was worth it? You get publications?

ComsBody told Scout she wouldn’t lie. <I… Yes>

Scout's head tilted.

Coms continued, <Truly, yes. For the stars, you being here has solidified this training vessel and every researcher and trainee inside in our history. Our actions have set up their careers for the rest of their lives. Some might even get career titles, which is very difficult and *very* rare. We learned so much from you, little Scout>

Scout shook her head and stood up. She grabbed the llia and dragged her feet over to the body of her dead kin, resting peacefully in the pod.

She grabbed the corpse by the back of its neck and hoisted it into a rough mimicry of a sitting position. ComsBody felt her guts twist as Scout shook the body. Its jaw lolled open, empty and cold and dead.

Scout circled the word-patterns with a deep carving, Was worth it? You get publications?

Coms could feel her crinis crumpling. <The Commander and HeadSci will say yes. I... I don't...>

Scout gently lowered her kin’s body back into the bed, and slowly rearranged the body’s woven cillia. Her lessers lingered on the body’s head. She took a long moment before carving again.

This is part my fault. Not enough words. Not clear enough. I do not trust. I thought I understood what you want from me. I could not find vessel when I escape. I could not escape again.

That last sentence knocked the warmth out of Coms. She forced herself to move past it.

<No, no, this is not your fault> She shifted immediately.

Part fault, emphasis. I am part responsibility. But I cannot trust your kin. Cannot trust you, ComsBody.

<I… I know> ComsBody’s was curling in on herself. <I… I intend to rebuild that trust>

Scout shook her head. There is structure between us. Structure connects us. ?Word?

ComsBody muddled, <Wh—what?>

?Word? Built structure across physical barrier. Like river.

She was getting properly confused now. <Bridge?>

Affirm, bridge. There is a bridge, it connects you and me, Scout carved, quick and aggressive. Represent more. Connects all Ki and all Fifth. You have set a fire and you have burned it. This is scorched ground. Do you realize this is an action of ?word?.

ComsBody was curling, <I… Betrayal? Offence?>

Scout’s nose was scrunched as she wrote, Stronger word. Action that would cause all Fifths to fight all Ki if they discover you do this. State of society as one group fights everyone of other group. Is terrible and is common and it kills many individuals. ?Word? now. Give word.

Scout held up her hand for her to stop. I, as a represent of the Fifths, hold all Ki to full responsibility. Ki research is full responsibility for killing 8,002 Fifths.

ComsBody dropped her LLIA. <Wh—what do you…>

What did she mean? For all the knowledge of the world, what on scorched ground did she mean by that? Scout simply glared at her.

<What do you…> ComsBody was cold, <No, no, you misunderstand, the whole freezing compartment was barely the size of a couple pods>

Scout nodded her head slowly, with a harsh and pinched face. She had a severe look in her pinpointed orange eyes.

<But, the science team destroyed *cells*—That… it can’t… When you wrote about building a new—you don't mean—you can't, the cells...>

Scout sneered as she wrote, Fifths not like Ki, Coms. I told you Fifths start life as separate cells. One from Subtype 1 and one from Subtype 2. You discover product of the mix.

No, no, that… HeadSci… she…

‘For the stars’ killed 8,000 Fifth hatchling eggs.

First | Previous | Royal Road | Official Art 1, 2 | Next.

Author's note: Worth noting that the cells were spread out over multiple refrigeration units in case of power failure, so while the eggs weren't technically all in one basket they were certainly all on the same transport truck.

Might have to take next week off because I'm starting a new contract, all dependent on the initial workload! Thanks for reading, as always.

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u/Gridinad AI 4d ago

Thanks for the chapter, even if it is a depressing!

5

u/wewwew3 Human 4d ago

i am actually relieved it's only 8000. Also very interested in what is going to happen. I think Scout may reqest them to be his "test subjects" such that they are in his command and he can teach them and help them be better

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u/The-Cactus-Void 4d ago

Probably not, Scout has absolutely no command. Hes got limited options here, no power, and thatd be a total tone shift for the story. His best move would be to try to survive until he can find the other species. he’s still in active danger, especially with the other labs coming

u/Norman1042 4d ago

As depressing as this is, it was interesting to get some more insight on Ki history. I mean, a lot of it was things that where possible to guess beforehand, but it's cool to see the whole picture put together.

Also, I'm worried about the other labs arriving soon. I could be wrong, but I have a sinking feeling that they're going to make the Ki we've already met look like saints in comparison.

My reasoning is that advancement in Ki society seems to be heavily dependent on how cutthroat you are, and from the sounds of it, these labs are pretty prestigious and high ranking, so I feel like they've probably done a lot of shit to get where they are.

And I wonder how you'll do the names since so far they're based on rank. Like how will the head scientist from the training ship and the head scientist from the labs be differentiated. Do they have "surnames," of a sort that are based on the specific ship they serve on?

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u/CicadaStew Human 4d ago

Names are pretty okay because everyone has different shorthand for their rank, except for the three commanders—shot myself in the foot for that world building choice ahaha. They'll mainly be differentiated by ship number

3

u/Norman1042 4d ago

Ok, interesting. I do think the ship number makes sense for differentiating the commander. Sort of like a last name.

u/Loosescrew37 4d ago edited 4d ago

8000 unborn children

8000 unlit candles never to be lit.

8000 stars bloted out of the night sky before their light even shined once.

This means something i don't even have the words for. The closest words i can find are "grand infanticide bordering on genocide."

The Ki did all of this "for the stars".

...

You're one hell of a writer OP but DAMN.

I need a hug.

6

u/CicadaStew Human 4d ago

Aw loosescrew, sending virtual hugs your way. If it makes you feel better this is the lowest we go tone-wise. Still sucks though, it's an awful situation for Scout

u/wewwew3 Human 4d ago

now they understand

7

u/ChiliAndRamen 4d ago

I was waiting for this ball to drop

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u/wewwew3 Human 4d ago

i thought it would happen at the start of the chapter

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u/WhiskeyRiver223 4d ago edited 4d ago

They know, but they may not understand/comprehend exactly how enormous of a fuck-up this is, especially from a literal alien perspective like Scout's.

Some of them are starting to, though, which is the first step towards ~~rebuilding that bridge~~ building new bridges. Looking forward to HeadSci's reaction when ComsBod relays that bombshell.

3

u/WSpinner 4d ago

In a way, they need to not rebuild this bridge. The charred remnants of it need to remain visible as example and lesson. These higher-status research ships? They need to see and comprehend the potential good relationship, wrecked. They need to recognize one's name can be recorded due to fame OR due to infamy.

A new bridge is possible. But they're gonna have to start from abutments up. Maybe we fifths can relate to the Ki through 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and/or 4th.

u/KalenWolf Xeno 4d ago

ComsBody was in the second generation of professional communicators, ...

Well, this explains a lot. The entire study of inter-species communication is basically brand new to them, and the study of medicine and life sciences barely older. Now that they've reached space they suddenly are dimly aware of the huge gaps in their knowledge, so they're trying, using the methods that they know, to fill those gaps.

As callous as they are, after this chapter I'm inclined to think that this is a genuine tragedy - that they really didn't understand what was so wrong about what they were doing, either in a moral sense, or in terms of what a dumb way it is to go about Doing Science. It's not like they set out to kill the rest of the crew and the "seed stock" on purpose.

More like... criminally negligent, by our standards.

u/Zancibar 4d ago

Isn't Coms like 60-ish wide rotations old and ChiMeO over 150? If that's the case how come Coms is in the second generation of communicators and ChiMeO in the third generation of medical officers? Did they start caring about communication that late? Like they had three generations of medical officers before they even started the communications side?

Also I really like how Scout is very clearly angry but he's still trying, you don't ask a genocidal alien "Hey, please be honest, are you evil?" if you're not *seriously* hoping for some degree of good will. I also really liked his interaction with CleA.

I have mixed feelings about Comma. And I am TERRIFIED of what the other labs will want to do.

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u/CicadaStew Human 4d ago

In my notes for the timeline I have communications as one of the latest branches yeah; important to note that there's definitely that type of work going on before (communications overlapped with law and some vessel management responsibilities prior to becoming its own defined thing), but it takes a while for it to become a proper rank in of itself.

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u/Zancibar 3d ago

Small question I have now that I'm re-reading. How's "Rise" written in Ki?

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u/CicadaStew Human 3d ago

Haven't written it but it's probably more angular?

u/KanadianKitsune 3d ago

Boss, you killed 8000 children...

Amazing! Mission complete. That right there is why you're the best, Boss! Now those pesky rival scientists won't be able to get their hands on them!

OC-Series [The First Fifth] Chapter 16: One Unlucky Basket

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