Memo 496: Regarding Human Mating Rituals

Memo 496: Regarding human mating rituals

Recorded by Galactic representative pharoadosh of the echelonions

For reasons I refuse to consider many of you have been asking for information regarding human courtship rituals particularly how to tell if the parties involved are interested in pursuing a relationship of some sort. Such data has never been recorded and I was forced to consult with cosmic defender 349728. The simple answer regarding human mating rituals is no one knows.

The male cannot accurately predict when the female is interested and vice versa. Their garments colors are meaningless to their own species, worn more for there own enjoyment rather then the enticement of suitable mates. Furthermore, they will change their garments for a variety of reasons, one of which is the attraction of potential mates but it could just as easily be the individual likes this coverings fit better. The humans may or may not have pheromonal capabilities, if they do they are completely unaware of this facet of their biology. Humans will put effort into looking appealing for no reason other than it is expected of them.

Humans will engage in playful verbal bantering and compliments, which may be a sign of interest or it may be a sign that they absolutely do not see you as a potential life partner. Furthermore, humans have been known to invite each other for potentially romantic outings as friends with no romantic interests. And this does not even touch on the tribal differences between mating rituals in the different tribes of mankind. As always this memo is not to be referenced with the subject of the memo

ADDENDUM: no I will not ask the human what he personally finds attractive. Not only would that be wildly inappropriate as I am his superior officer but I do not like his species

Humans are weird: Medics

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Mula didn’t feel the pain at first. He had felt a sharp pinch just above his right leg during the charge across the street but he had ignored it. He had made it about half way across the paved road dodging incoming fire when his entire leg lost all feeling and he tumbled to the ground hard.

Through blurry eyes he saw the rest of his squad continuing to the building opposite the street which had been their target. He saw several of them torn to shreds by plasma fire erupting from nearly every window and yet his squad continued their attack with grim determination.

Mula made to stand and rejoin his comrades in this glorious charge. He made to use his right hand to brace himself and rise once more only to collapse again to the hard ground. Angrily Mula looked at what had stopped him and it was then that it finally dawned on him that his entire right arm up to the third elbow was missing.

He looked at the stump of his arm dumb founded. He could see it was clearly gone, but it felt as if it was still there all the same. Like a dark joke he could even still feel his absent fingers opening and closing despite their remains being scattered several feet away.

More of his brothers were charging across the street around him. They were being cut down like wheat before the scythe and yet they still shouted their battle cries and stormed across their dead.

This was the moment heroes are made.

This was the moment legends were born.

Mula the One Hand, they would call him.

Throughout his entire life Mula had been taught that to die on the battlefield was the greatest honor. His soul would be welcomed into the hallowed halls of Jem Had’a where he would fight eternal with the greatest warriors his people had ever known.

Determined to meet his end with the dignity of a true warrior of the, Mula braced himself on his left arm and made to stand once more. He had nearly risen back to his full height when he felt something grab him from behind and pull him hard.

“Get down you stupid fucker!”

Before Mula knew what was going on he was being dragged backwards. He saw his unresponsive leg limply being dragged before him as he was taken further and further away from the target building. His brothers were still rushing passed him as he was being pulled away as Mula strained his neck turning to see what had grabbed him.

To his surprise it was a human warrior. They wore strange armor adorned with a red cross but carried no weapon. Despite their somewhat frail state they were dragging Mula back to their own lines as the battle raged around them.

While the war had originally been between Mula’s people and the Fentom Alliance it had eventually spilled out into neighboring sectors as the war progressed. Humanity occupied several sectors along the front and had been content to remain neutral in the conflict until Fentom ships began raiding human shipping lanes for supplies. After that humanity sent in several fleets and ground armies to assist Mula’s people bring the conflict to an end.

“Let go of me!” Mula shouted at the human. When they continued to pull Mula away from the battle he began struggling in their grasp. The human became further agitated by this and swatted Mula across the face.

“Hey idiot, if you have a death wish keep me the hell out of it!” they shouted as a rocket exploded nearby showering the pair of them in rubble. The human let go of Mula as a result and he was able to scramble back to his one working foot.

He rejoined the charge across the street, limping on his one good leg and holding his Tatava dagger in his left hand. He made it several steps before he was tackled back to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

Mula rolled on to his back and saw that it was the same human again.

“Leave me be!” Mula shouted as he tried to dislodge with several sharp kicks. “My destiny awaits me!”

When the kicking did not release them Mula had no other recourse but to swing his Tatava dagger at them. He had judged the distance to not harm them, but close enough to scare them into letting go.

Sure enough as soon as the blade neared the humans face they released him and shuffled backwards. Now free Mula made to stand but was interrupted by the human.

“I hate angry patients.”

Mula looked up just in time to see the human’s fist smashing into their face. The pain sent Mula crumbling back to the ground, his dagger clattering to the ground unceremoniously. The human stood over Mula and he thought that another blow was surely about to fall, but was surprised when instead they began treating his wounds.

“If I try moving you again you’ll bleed out before we make it back.” They said as they started wrapping the stump of what had been his right arm several minutes prior.

“You are keeping me….from my destiny!” Mula said. He had intended to shout it to scare off the human, but found that his voice had become very weak. Now that he had stopped moving he noticed everything about him had become weaker. His muscles struggled to move the way he wanted, his vision was going in and out of focus as he tried to look at the human, even his fingers had started trembling each time he tried to make a fist.

“If it was to die on this shitty dirt ball I have some bad news for you.” Mula saw a half smile flash across the human’s face before a burst of plasma fire flew overhead and she bent over his body to avoid it.

“You would…” Mula began as they returned to fixing his wounds, “dishonor me?”

The human shook their head in frustration as they finished with his arm and moved on to bandaging his leg. Mula noticed his armor had become far more stained with his blood than he had realized when he looked down at it. No doubt that was why he was feeling weaker by the moment.

“If you were truly meant to die this day,” the human said as they aggressively sealed the leg wounds, “do you really think your gods would let one little human stand in the way of a destiny they laid out for you?”

Mula wanted to respond but was struck by the human’s words. In his silence the human finished treating his wounds and waved over another pair of human soldiers.

“You will live to fight another day soldier.”

With those last words Mula felt himself being carried off again as the world started fading to black. The last sight he saw before it consumed him was that of the human who had treated him rushing off to tend to another fallen warrior. ————————–

The history books of Mula’s people would indeed speak of his name and deeds.

They recorded how after the battle he had been taken to an orbital hospital ship that had come with the human fleets. How he had been given new prosthetic limbs and had initially been shunned and mocked for surviving the battle by his fellow warriors.

It also tells how Mula endured all of the humiliation thrust upon him by remembering the last words the human who had saved his life had said to him.

“You will live to fight another day…..”

No longer was Mula seeking out his glorious death on the battlefield. He lived to fight another day, and then another, and another, and another, and so on.

Mula survived over three hundred battles fought over the span of sixty years. He was the one who drove his Tatava dagger into the heart of Overlord Jih inside his own citadel, he would be the first to breach the walls of the crystal city of Hama Zure, and he would be the one single handedly hold the line at the battle of Black Field.

In his life he earned more glory living then he ever could have won by dying in that nameless street so many years ago. His name was spoken of in reverence and his deeds carved into the eternal stone of honor for all to see.

Near the end of his life he wished to thank the human who had saved him all those years ago. So he set out and using what contacts he had acquired, sought out his savior.

His search led him to the fields of honored dead on the human homeworld.

The human who had saved him was called “Kayley Gillevet”, and she had died the very same day that they had met.

From what Mula was able to find out was that Kayley had continued saving those she could during the closing hours of the battle and became separated from the allied forces. She gathered those she could into a housing building and tried her best to stabilize them. The enemy forces thought that they were still active combatants and leveled the building rather than attempting to storm it.

Looking down at this tiny piece of stone with her name carved into it Mula couldn’t help but feel sadness.

Here had been a warrior who had stormed the fields of death not to take life, but to save it; and this was all that left to remember her while his name was taught to his people’s children in schools. Her name carved into a weathered stone barely legible anymore.

He placed his prosthetic hand on Kayley’s stone and spoke softly.

“I did what you asked.” He said as tears began to run down his face. “I lived to fight another day.”

“I have a question about the humans”.

“Uh? What is it?”

“You know how they have to cover themselves up at all times?”

“Yes?”

“Why do they have to do that? It’s not like they are walking on inhospitable places all the time. They could just wear a karket to cover some of their parts up”.

“… Uh…”.

“What?”

“Have you ever seen a human before?”

“Of course!”

“That would answer the question”.

“It doesn’t? They have fur. They are just covering their fur”.

“They don’t have fur- where did you get that idea from?!”

“I saw a picture of them! They have fur! I heard they complain about the weather being too hot all the time. If only they wore a karket like we do…”.

“You mean, the fur on their heads? That’s hair”.

“They have a special name for that? But the fur on their bodies is the same…”.

“For the last time, they don’t have fur! Not thick fur, at least. They like to shave”.

“That’s… Not true. I can’t think of any intelligent species without fur or scales. It would be like… Seeing exposed flesh. They don’t have exposed flesh”.

“They don’t- you know what? Look”.

“I am looking”.

“Look at this. This is a human! Does this look like fur to you?!”

“W…”.

“Hm?!”

“What the fuck is that?! The fuck- the fuck?! That’s exposed flesh, but not really exposed! What are the other Earth intelligent creatures?!”

“There aren’t any other. Only humans and the robots, but they are basically the same thing”.

“You must be fucking kidding me…”.

“Show me what you saw, then!”

“Fine! Fine! Just let me find it- there! Right there!”

“… Dude”.

“Are you seeing it? That’s fucking fur!”

“Dude”.

“What?!”

“That’s a fucking monkey!”

-

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“Haven’t you heard?”, the crew’s Historian purred, delighted on the news. “Humans pull off the skins from their bodies all the time!”

The Engineer trembled around her unusual form, all four of her arms grabbing the table with anxiety. “Pull off their skins?!”, she asked, horrified. “Like the taru when the two suns rise in red?!”

“Oh, didn’t you hear me?”, the other continued. “They do that all the time! When they wake up, when they go to work, when they come back from it. A new skin for every moment!”

The Engineer became smaller, old instincts of alert kicking in. “How can they regenerate their skin so fast?”

“I have no idea!”, the Historian told them, spinning around their chair and drinking a large glass of water. “Must be because of that harsh planet they came from. I heard the ground roars from time to time to wreck everything… It becomes angry. I think it tries to eat the creatures so the planet’s core can keep itself warm”.

“Awful”, the smaller one whispered. “But why do they keep pulling off their skins?!”

“Oh, I think it’s all for show. They don’t have a time for mating, you know? Must be because they are looking for someone to be their partner. Or maybe it’s all shows for strenghts, to prove one is better than the other. These humans didn’t take long to get out of their planets, like us. They are still more of an irrational animal than an intelligent creature…”

“Oh, shut up with these stupid legends”, the crew’s sole human shouted from behind. Both Historian and Engineer jumped from their seats, looking at the Psychiatrist. “And stop watching videos of artists pulling off their makeup! You’re scaring everyone off me, you foolish storyteller! Come here, right now, and I’ll show you what pulling a skin off is like-!”

—

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The Humans That Sing

This is a new thing I'm trying. Poetry was never my forte but I figured I'd give it a try. Enjoy.

The humans that sing are rare

Those that sing freely are there

But to be one that sings

with friends in a ring

Such happiness belongs with them.

Oh to be one that does

To sing freely - without pause

What greater a joy is there?

Now the humans have reached the stars

And mixed their music with ours

Now we can sing

With those in a ring

Such happiness and joy is ours.

It was a ship wide rule to never interrupt human’s movie night. It was a quiet and safe group activity to strengthen their pack bond, and it was normally a movie that other species couldn’t understand. I knew this rule, but curiosity got the better of me.

After watching the entire movie with the humans, I went to the ship’s biologist. He allowed me inside.

“What troubles you Cannan?” Ghro asked.

“I joined the humans’ movie night. I had always heard their movies were more, fantastical. The feats were certainly impossible, but there appeared to be no discernible story. The humans seemed very intense while watching, so I know I must be missing context.”

Ghro nodded. “Many human movies require specific context to understand. Tell me, what is the name of the movie and I will research it for you.”

“They called it Olympic.”

Ghro paused. “Cannan, this is very important, did they call it only by Olympic or was there something else?”

“The Olympic maybe. Does that matter?” I asked.

Ghro nodded, and pressed a button to page a medic.

“You’re scaring me,” I said, glancing instinctively towards an exit.

“What you saw was not a fictional movie. You were watching The Olympics, a quadrennial competition of human athletes all attempting to best previous human limits.”

I laughed. “No, of course not. One human ran 100 minsecs in 8.97 seconds. You can’t possibly expect me to be so foolish as to believe you.”

Ghro said nothing. I frowned.

“This isn’t funny Ghro.”

“I’m not joking.”

I stood up, aggravated. “I know humans are absurd but they aren’t super beings. They have limits. Humans are meant for land and climbing, so the female who swam faster than a frullo is not real.”

Ghro said nothing again. I shook my head.

“Take it back! It’s not real! Humans cannot lift as much as a Helvsparr! Four arms are stronger than two!”

Ghro glanced at the page indicator. He wouldn’t tell me the truth. I felt anxiety rise. I grabbed my arms.

“Humans aren’t capable of that. They just aren’t. Their bodies can’t handle it.” I insisted.

“Those humans in the Olympics train their entire lives to reach these limits and push past them. You are not the first to fail to understand how their body allows this. Many scientists have been retired because their minds could not grasp the lunacy of human biostats.”

I had to know. I had to know. I turned and ran.

-

I knew Cannan was not prepared for the truth. Unfortunately his species, Faetatia, can identify lies with frightening accuracy. I had no choice but to give him the truth.

He could not handle the truth, and so his instinct to run kicked in. I got up and followed him, keeping a safe distance. I also alerted the medics to find us in the halls.

I found Cannan gripping a human, Mario, and screeching for the truth. Mario looked concerned and unsure.

Medics came and used a gas to render Cannan unconscious and carted him away. He would undergo testing to be sure his mental functions were still well and then reassigned to a ship without humans.

“Ghro, what happened?” Mario asked.

“Cannan watched the Olympics and could not believe that humans are capable of such things.”

“Oh. You told him those were extreme cases right? Not every human is like that?” Mario asked.

“I could not, because every human has the potential. That thought frightens many, too many.”

“I guess the Olympics are gonna be banned on ship wide movie nights then, huh?” Mario asked.

“I’m not sure. They do just as good a job of pacifying humans as they do frightening other species, so it is the Captains call.”