Return to Vassalized Earth: Shoot First

._ “come in,” the brown sirian pilot spoke, pressing a finger against the headseat attached to his floppy ears.

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Return to Vassalized Earth: Glass

One afternoon i extracted the olfactory glands of a sirian and reverse-engineered the cells to be compatible with my nose and had them transplanted." “bull-" “shit?

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Outcast Planet: The Road

“not gonna drink that sirian shit again..." i muttered, covering my eyes with my palms. “you were as dry as a desert last night," said yaleen, the sharp face of her blurry outline was visible between cracks in my fingers.

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Return to Vassalized Earth: An Evening Party

Most of the room was made up of regulians and the vulpeculans seemed to gravitate in their direction, but one made a move for a four foot tall sirian who smiled lecherously as she approached.

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Return to Vassalized Earth: Exodus

Abel’s eyes flicked to the screen as a sirian scientist began talking about the bioweapon.

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The Heir: Father

“get a lupiad or a sirian in there, trust me!” “it’s him,” uloth nodded, clasping his fist to his chest. “proud, noble, father; it’s him. a titan of commerce and technology, a true general, through and through.”

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Outcast Planet: A Simple Job

We're as sharp as sirian businessmen, don't you know?" “get to the point." “we have a bad sense of smell, but we can smell bullshit better than anyone. i know for a fact that my pal ebi sold a coilgun for twenty-five just two weeks ago to lagath.

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Outcast Planet: Steel All Around

It’s not even that sirian piece of shit, whitestar! what is this!?” the screen blinked and a series of bright, flashing stars shot across the screen in an arc before exploding by the lower right corner.

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Return to Vassalized Earth: An Unremarkable Day

Non-regulians species: depicting humans as havings faces so flat that an airplane could land on them, a lupiad that was little more than a ravenous beast attempting to destroy a sphere with the words, “regulus," written atop them as if it weren't obvious enough, a sirian

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Outcast Planet: Rescue

“well, well, don...” the lieutenant slowly came into view, his hulking frame looming over the smaller lupiad-sirian, “...don-don-don...dondrae, is that what they call you?”

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Metempsychosis II (2026 revised)

Are you from the sirian armada?” his eyes narrowed. “how do you…?” he sighed again, clearly fighting to stay calm. he reached into a small case, pulled out a cigar, and lit it while staring at me the whole time.

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