FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The trip across the plateau was an illuminating one. For one, it wasn’t a complete desert. Scraps of plant life rarely cropped up in the sandy plain. Tyra wondered how they kept up moisture with competition from the worms. Poison? Chemical masking? Another point of realization was learning just how much humans sweat. Joshua visibly began to perspire on the trip. Tyra’s body was compensating for the temperature in its own way, but she could still feel the heat bearing hitting her, and somehow, looking to Joshua made it feel all the hotter.

Cracks in the surface of the planet were much farther than Tyra had anticipated. Were there not any visible landmarks, she might have assumed that they were mirages brought upon dips in the terrain. It was now that her body craved that touch of moisture. Moisture was on the air, and naturally, it came from Joshua. She wouldn’t offer to taste for a miasma of reasons. Nonetheless, it was agonizing to be near Joshua, as if being teased. Humidity had evaporated from the air, cranking up the rigor on her body.

They had reached the edge of the ravine and looked down into it. The light was lessened down below, seeming like a cool retreat. Shrubbery and squat trees dotted the valley. Moisture must have been inside. Only issue now was actually getting down there.

“I don’t see a way down,” Joshua said.

“There must be something. The valley may pick up any errant wind and wear down the walls,” Tyra replied.

“Guess we’ve got no option, huh?”

“None.”

Joshua nodded, swallowed, and continued onward along the edge, with Tyra following as best she could. Not once had she ever felt so dry and battered. It was if every imperfection in her chitin was being eaten by the sun. The growing pain on her mind caused her eyes to wander back to Joshua, and every time her ego would wrangle it away. Last thing she needed now was giving ravenous eyes to her one partner in this deadly world. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going.

How could anything survive on this planet? How did a creature evolve under these rigorous conditions? How did water become so sparse…? Water. Her chitin screamed. Tyra collapsed, sand softening her fall, but it burned all the more. Her body felt empty, limp, as if she were a head stuck to a corpse. Why was it so dry?

“Tyra?” Joshua said.

He was a figure up above, and for the briefest moment, blocked the deadly sun from her. Relief.

“Tyra!” Joshua shook her. He placed a hand upon her neck. It was cool. “Damnit. Get up. I think I see some way we can get down. C’mon.” She was shaken again. He sighed and picked her up. Back into the sunlight. “You were all gungho about this crap and look where it got you.” His arms were so cool. Water. He had so much water on him. “I thought you guys were tanks.” She reached her mandibles out toward his shoulder, gently nibbling on him. Terribly sour water, but water nonetheless. “You’re damned lucky we shook on it.”

It was so nice not to walk, just the gentle, plodding sway of Joshua. He was an awfully nice creature for his species. Exposed expansionist. Joshua didn’t seem the type to want to overtake and expand upon his territory. All of his peoples needed to be like him. Amicable. In the end. With a sly, amusing remark to be punctuate his reservations.

How long had it been since Tyra first saw him? The fragile, squishy thing. Only, he wasn’t so fragile now. His body far outstripped her own abilities in adaptation. She nibbled some more, taking in the precious scraps of water. Tyra wasn’t even her name, but she wore it for his own sake. He wouldn’t even be able to appreciate her name, likely. All of the chemical mixtures and balances would blow right past the receptors jammed in his nasal cavity. And blind, he was practically blind, too. Imagine all the wonderful colors he simply could not fathom. Tyra’s eyes lazily looked over to his gaze. The firm, straight ahead stare. He was blind, but in that blindness was strength.

“What was that thing you were saying earlier, about carving tunnels with my deity?” he asked.

“Tunnels. Tunnels of faith,” she said. “Destiny. Tunnels of destiny.”

“What are those?”

“My people, we…” A touch more moisture. “Tunneling. Those that we believe in carve the path forward. Just like yours. That God of yours. Abrahamic… creature.”

“I’m guessing that was when you guys stayed underground, huh? Must’ve been a whole hell of a long time ago.”

“In the caves.” Cool, cool, caves. Tyra took in more moisture.

“I’m surprised you still keep that kind of faith. Always struck me as the scientific bunch. Especially you.”

“Science is curiosity of a crafted world.” Upon saying that, Tyra felt a spark of embarrassment. A trite comment. “Something- Something of that manner.”

“You think any of you guys would follow Earth religions?” Joshua added a chuckle to his words.

Strange, that wasn’t a humorous proposition, was it? Tyra tried to focus her swaying mind on what humans believed in. Powerful, jealous, and benevolent deities. Very human. Some of their wise sayings may have struck a chord with portions of her people.

“Were we… allies. Perhaps.”

“So that’s a no for now?”

“Yes. A no.”

The sunlight seemed to lessen, the blistering air lowered in intensity a notch. The sways became slower, deeper.

“Bear with me here. If I drop you, its your own fault,” Joshua said.

Joshua’s cradle on her tightened. Tyra’s dull chitin managed to pick up even the vibrations of his muscles straining and moving. A tank, was she? What was a tank? The land based vehicle made for destruction. No, that wasn’t quite the simile he wanted to draw. The impenetrable status is what he wanted to evoke for her kind. Humans were tanks, too, in their ability to conquer all but the hardest of environments and tread over them as if nothing were there.

It was no wonder this war was at a standstill.

_

Tyra found herself lying on a rock. Uncomfortable, yet cool. She was able to loosely focus on Joshua nearby, wrestling with a spindly pair of trees. No, not wrestling. He was assaulting them with his knife.

“You like your water fresh?” Joshua asked.

“Very.”

“Give me--” There was a crunch of wood. “Give me a second.”

Tyra writhed on the rock, grinding her armored body against its relatively cool surface. It did nothing to assuage the arid air that attacked her, but one slight relief was better than a constant miasma of agony. She slowly ground her mandibles together, savoring that long gone sensation of liquids dribbling into her maw. There was another crunch of wood, and Joshua sighed.

“So, this thing isn’t like a cactus. Alright, give me a second.” He wiped his brow and kicked the defeated vegetation. “Sure has got the needles for a cactus, though.” Joshua moved to the next in the pair and started to shave away all those pesky needles before carving something into it. Whatever it was, it was taking an atrociously long time. After more agonizing seconds, Joshua retrieved a stick and jammed it in the newly created crevice.

“Is it a safe source?” Tyra asked.

“I’d rather be dead of poisoning instead of dehydration.” Joshua paused. “Maybe not, but I’m already sick of thirst.”

Tyra writhed again, flipping onto her side. That damn sky. She could see so many colors but the sky was that flat, repulsive blue. Almost like a mocking ocean.

“Do you know what a cactus is?” Joshua asked.

“Shrubbery, in the desert. Painful spikes,” she replied.

“Right, so, I’m thinking this thing must be the same. It’s got the spikes, but of course you can’t just stab it for water like those.”

“Cacti may not be… edible. Consumable. Drink-able.”

“Sure, sure. They might not be, but you never know. How’d you know that, anyways?”

“It’s my job to know!”

“Easy, just making small talk.” Joshua went over to the rock and placed a foot on it. “You guys ever planned to invade Earth?”

“You would enjoy such a cliché, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve seen our stuff.”

“Psychological reasons.” In that moment she envied the human ability to lay one’s head face down.

“Any you enjoyed?”

“No.”

“Everyone’s a critic. I bet you guys would do great at that kind of job. Movie critic.”

“An occupation of giving opinions seems hardly worth pursuing.”

“It’s definitely not a science, so I’m not sure how much you would like it in particular.”

“Studying human brain activity in response to media is a science.”

“Hey, I’ll offer myself up when we get out of here. You’ll get all the data you need.”

“How are you not agonizing over this puerile landscape?”

“Like I said, small talk.”

A strange defense mechanism, but she realized it had actually worked. Tyra’s annoyance toward him had briefly overridden her body’s screaming for moisture. Now it was her fault that she was reminded of it all over again. She had faltered on her desire to survive in that moment.

“I find media to be predictable,” Tyra finally said.

“Humans like to be predictable.”

“Humble.”

“Not humble, it’s just how we work. For the most part. Some weirdos would say otherwise. Variety is the spice of life but repetition is the main course that the spice goes onto.” He placed a hand to his stomach, then shook his head. “So, how’s it like on your planet? Movies and the like?”

“Distantly similar. We enjoy theater, televised, recorded. A lack of a monetary reason for their productions.”

“Like plays.”

“Plays, yes. A grand convergence of… talents.” The human words were slurring together in her mind.

“How do you do that over a screen? Like, your name, you said you don’t speak it out loud. So you’ve got to have some other way.”

He was paying attention, then? Tyra had grown used to speaking English, though their chatter had made her miss her native tongue. This human language felt complex, yet limiting, like being trapped in a morse code signal machine. They lacked the elegance and nuance that her own language brought. The beating of her body didn’t help conjuring the words together.

“Colors. Colors to express more. Colors for characters.”

“So what color is your name, then?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Names are a personal scent.”

“You just like, smell each other in casual conversation?”

“No. They are personal. Companionship, strictly.”

“Must suck if you get a bad one. With my luck, mine would be something like popcorn.”

What in the world was he talking about?

“Water?” she asked.

“Alright, OK. I’ve bugged you enough.” Joshua moved back to the vegetation. “At least it works like an actual tree.” He pulled that stick free and walked back to Tyra. “Here, uh.” He tentatively reached out a hand, gently reaching under her neck and sitting her more upright. Joshua presented the stick to her, which was now covered in a clear and viscous fluid.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Sap. Or it should be. Unless you can think of some other way to get some water, you’ll have to deal with it.”

Disgust at licking an alien sap from a stick simmered in Tyra, which she quickly smothered. He was helping you survive. Take his gift or suffer. Her vision lazily scanned to the scorching blue up above. Only death and damnation on this planet, save for the one creature, a human, willing to save you. He could very well leave you to die, now. What purpose did you serve on this new venture? Your scientific expertise was of little use without practical application.

Tyra leaned forward and drank of the sap. Joshua raised one end, allowing it to slowly trickle into her awaiting mouth. Bitter, and entirely refreshing. It likely wasn’t immediately hydrating, possibly a psychological effect of a cool, vaguely liquid substance reaching her throat. Some other strange tastes of this planet were mixed in. She would get over it. Nothing deadly, at least. Not that she could necessarily rule out the possibility of an undetectable poison. Before long, the entirety of the sap was gone.

“I, too, would rather be poisoned than dehydrate,” Tyra said.

“That’s another thing we can agree on.”

Tyra glanced to the stick. “I have taken all of it. Apologies.”

“I think you need it more than me.” He raised his shoulder, showing where her mandibles had worn away at his shirt. “As you can see.”

Tyra merely nodded. “Thirst had gotten the better of me.”

“Yeah, just warn me next time. Look, let me set up more of these. I’ll be right back.”

Joshua did just that, heading to more distant plants and repeating the carving process. Tyra flexed her armored plates. She wanted to get up to help, but her body was still in a daze. If she had a choice, she would have preferred to have died on the other planet. At least it was cool there. And there, they could have existed in perpetuity.

What would have happened if they had resolved to stay there? If they weren’t chasing some distant satellite? Tyra looked to Joshua as he expertly carved into another distant plant. They were tenuous partners now, would they have become friends in that scenario? Were they not friends now? Surely, with “small talk” they were on some level of friendship. The human side of Joshua had infected Tyra as well. How much was she catering to him?

Even after this was all finished… would she want him to leave? The only human willing to extend that olive branch. Terrible circumstances forced his hand, and they joined as unlikely allies. Her only other choice was company in the presence of her own peoples, and she had already given that enough thought. Joshua likely wouldn’t care for the idea. If his admission of fleeing military conscription was true, then there were likely other humans of the same mindset willing to take him in.

Maybe it was best that they stay on the run forever, for her sake. Tyra flexed her mandibles. Selfish as always, aren’t you? At least this time you wouldn’t submit to cowardice, right? No, she wouldn’t. Forget that mark on your history, you’ve learned from it. But if they were going to stay together for a while, Joshua’s human trends may paint her as a romantic partner. A strange proposition. It wasn’t as if her own species was above the concept of mindless love. Nor was she, truly.

“What’s wrong?” Joshua asked, as he returned.

“Nothing is amiss,” Tyra replied.

“Your horns are up. Usually means something is wrong, and I won’t like it.”

“No, no. Merely letting the delicate parts of my body cool off.”

“Oh, neat.”

Neat indeed, if it were true.

Joshua sat on the rock and stared out into the distance. Likely the question on his mind was “What next?” Tyra didn’t have an answer. They could return to the cave at some point. Lack of wind should have meant their footprints were plainly visible. It occurred to her that would lead any scouting party directly to them. A damnation in disguise.

“Joshua, we will have to make a choice,” Tyra said.

“I know. Walk back to the ship and hope there aren’t any worms, or keep on walking and hope the desert won’t kill us.”

“I would not have phrased it so transparently, but yes.”

“There’s a good chance I broke something, too, isn’t there?”

“The syringe worms may have broken something as well, in their ravenous search for fluids.”

“Give me a second to get us more water and have some rest. Then we can flip a coin on it.”

Hopefully that was merely a saying and Joshua wasn’t planning on deciding fate like that. Tyra decided to not focus on the worrying decision until it arrived. She took slow breaths, faintly calming her body down.

Joshua managed to pull in heaps more of sap, which Tyra greedily took up. He took some for himself, of course, clearly disliking the taste from the way his entire face winced. No physical ailments arose from it, fortunately. She was in no position to try and treat him now. He sat back down on the rock.

_

Tyra awoke to an odd sensation at her hairs. Clammy flesh snuggled up against her. Her vision swayed back into focus, finding herself clutching at Joshua, still on the uncomfortable rock. In a moment of weakness, her body must have clung to him for more moisture, including her mandibles pressed up against his arm. She resolved to move away, but paused. There was a lightness in her head, with her horns slowly approaching to attention. Her grip tightened slightly, focusing on the softness of his body.

Joshua was a hardened individual wrapped in a plush form and decorated with firm muscles. She listened to his slow breathing, each lung pulling in long, relaxed breaths and causing the heave of his chest. Even in a deep sleep, he was alive with activity. It was cute, as always. She noticed that a touch of hair grew around his chin. Had he been grooming that unwanted hair before? There was something amusing in that. Maybe a ritual he refused to stop, until now when it no longer proved possible.

Human research had gotten the better of her. Tyra halted her wandering eyes from greedily dissecting every part of Joshua, and pondering on his humanistic behaviors. She slowly pulled her hand away and rolled onto her back. Joshua didn’t move. Out of all the future tunnels she imagined for herself, Tyra hadn’t ever considered she would be on a nearly dead world, surviving with the subject of her research. Perhaps it was that very research that allowed her to open up, her fetishistic fascination with the first sentient creature they, as a species, had ever met. Some might say she was betraying her species in this moment, as well. Far too late to dwell on that now. Indeed. She had begun to enjoy Joshua’s presence.

Loneliness, cowardice, and a scientific mind had driven her to the lowest point in her life. A traitorous refugee fraternizing with the enemy. And she couldn’t help but remind herself of it every moment she could.

“Son of a bitch,” Joshua said, sitting upright, rubbing his temple. “How long was I out?”

Tyra did not respond, opting to lie motionless and pretend to be asleep.

“Tyra?”

She shifted herself upright. “Yes?”

“You were asleep? Damnit. Did you hear anything? Ships, maybe?”

“No. Yet, if one were in atmosphere, we would have awoken from it.”

“Guess that’s something. Can you walk?”

Tyra managed to stand up. The air still beat down upon her, yet nowhere near as bad as it once did.

“Looks like that’s a yes,” he said. Joshua joined her side. “Let’s load up on some more sap and I guess check out the ship. If you can, that is.”

“I am capable of walking, for now, yes.”

All that time was spent resting, and the sky hadn’t budged from its burning brightness. The planet must have rotated quite slowly, or they may have not rested for very long at all. Both prospects weren’t good, admittedly. Tyra followed Joshua’s path back upward. She hadn’t quite remembered the trek down, and what little she did recall, she didn’t want to think about. The path upward was by way of a series of haphazard steps, likely weathered down over the years. Tyra had to admit it was impressive that Joshua made the trip down with his hands occupied.

The plateau above was as lifeless as they had left it, including their steps in the sand, which clearly outlined where Tyra had fallen flat.

“My apologies,” she said.

“Consider it payback for stitching me up.” Joshua tapped at where his wound was with a fist.

“Does that still ail you?”

“Nope, so I guess you dressed those wounds well.”

“Fortunate.”

Their trip continued on further. It felt quite shorter this time. Tyra figured her body was eager to return to a cooler environment. Joshua came to a sudden stop, and Tyra quickly realized why. They were now at the edge of a large dune sloping downward, creating a steep incline they likely would not be able to crawl out of.

“We went the right way, didn’t we?” Joshua said.

“Unless there is a similar partnering of our kind together, yes.”

“This isn’t good.”

They walked alongside the massive dent in the environment.

“This follows the tunnel below.”

“It collapsed?”

“I see no alternative.”

Tyra realized what that might have meant. She ran onward despite her body’s protest, arriving at the other end of the plateau, where the mighty ravine they had crashed into now had a sea of sand pouring into it. Under the golden mass and chunks of massive rock was a dark grey spine piercing upward. The ship.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Joshua kicked sand into the ravine with a grunt.

Tyra was in no better mood. Her hands clenched tightly and her mandibles snapped at one another. The only reason she wasn’t screaming in tandem was the fear that it would wear her out faster than the sun was already doing. Even if they were able to dig into it, the weight of debris would have most certainly smashed all of the usable equipment and made it impossible to fly. Whatever use it had as shelter was gone, now merely a grave for a once proud crew. This is where their memory had to rest. On this atrocious planetoid.

“OK, plan B it is,” Joshua said.

If she had just bothered to go, maybe this wouldn’t have been her path. If she had an ounce of humility, there could have been a chance for all of them. This was to be their memory. An echo on a distant planet. A pained memory in the mind of its pathetic survivor. A casualty on a data entry. This was all her fault. A terrible, crushing pain overtook her plated body, rounding each one and digging into her fragile interior. She let out a warbling cry, a vain attempt to vent the torrential agony. Why couldn’t she manage that one thing?

“You destroyed the suit, you repugnant, detritus crawler! You knew that was the one way they wouldn’t force you out! Combat is your blood, and you could not manage that!” Tyra screamed in her tongue. She grabbed at her horns and yanked at them, torturing her already fragile physique. Legs faltered, causing her to fall to her knees.

“Tyra!”

“Not even a victim of war! You fled from it! And for that, you must suffer!” She cried again.

“Tyra! What the hell has gotten into you?!”

“Crying for companionship now?! You deserve the enemy! Your destiny is to be crushed under the very tunnel you carve!” Her guttural cry winded down, as the last of her energy faded from her. She let her hands fall limp, followed by the rest of her body. “I deserve you, Joshua,” she said finally, loosely stringing the words together in English.

Joshua gave her a confused look, then glanced back to the ship.

“Look, I know you’re pissed, but I need you right now, OK? I’m sorry I lost your ship--”

“I left the controls in your hand. It’s my pain to bear.”

“You did it to survive.”

“That, I do not deserve.”

Joshua sighed and grabbed her hand, yanking her upward. Tyra looked to him. There was that face of determination again. How impressive that emotions bled through their eyes so cleanly.

“It doesn’t matter if you deserve it or not. You saved my ass, so it’s now my problem, too. I owe you.”

“I did it out of selfishness.”

“Everything in life is selfish. Everything. The best part is, we can make it a good selfishness. Now, can you walk?”

Tyra looked to the valley. There was kernel of truth to his words. The degree of selfishness, however, was what mattered.

“So, why would you save me now? It would not serve your selfish needs,” she replied.

“Sure does, because I’m starting to like you, and as it turns out, we selfish humans love having company.”

There was a smirk buried in that look, under a firm stare. There was humor in this dour situation. One part of Tyra wanted to groan and bury his head in the sand, the other part wanted to laugh at his cheery demeanor. His drive to live, even now, shone through. She should have adopted the same.

“And what is your purpose for survival?” she asked.

“My desire for a fishing pole in my hand and an empty lake. Now get up, because I need you to make that a reality before I snap.”

“So be it. For your selfishness.”

“Now, start thinking of your reason to live, get yourself in gear.”

That would be difficult, even moreso as Joshua yanked her along the burning sand, practically stumbling back the way they came. Down the rocky plateaus, into the valley, and back in the safety of a shadowy embrace.

“Alright, so we know there are worms here, and we know they’re making caves all over the place.”

“Yes, that is how they function from what we have observed.”

“So there has to be at least a few that we can bunk in near the ground.”

"Possible that the worms infest them routinely.”

“It’s better than staying out here.”

“Is it? You saw the horde that approached.”

“That’s because we had a huge pile of water, right?”

“Possibly. We cannot assume anything about them.”

“In life or death, you have to do a lot of assuming.”

“Mind your sweat. It’s a major source of moisture at the moment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, you took your fair share.”

Tyra glanced away and grunted. Her own survival instinct was practically bestial.

“Let’s stay along the valley. Should be enough plants to keep us alive for a while. Food’s going to be a problem, though.”

It took Tyra some time to realize she was still being pulled along by Joshua. Unnecessary, yet she did not complain. To some degree, Joshua must have internalized her as a feminine figure worth protecting. A misguided if cute thought. And… Admittedly one she didn’t dislike. Chivalry was a more explicitly human affair. Tyra might have scoffed at the gesture if she had not proven her weakness mere moments ago. As much as she wanted to maintain her air of a powerful figure in this relationship, she had failed quite miserably once true survival was put to the test.

Joshua would occasionally glance back at Tyra. Making sure she was still upright and functional? She wondered how many of her facial features he had picked up on. Was he aware of the subtle changes in her stony expression? It must have been like a blindness, looking to another and not being able to discern their intent or state of mind.

“Do you realize that leaving the planet will not be possible at this moment?” Tyra asked.

“I was thinking you could cobble a ship out of rocks and sand,” Joshua replied. “Of course I know that. But you know what? I’d rather entertain the chance of it and beat this place instead of lay down and die.”

“And your fishing?”

“Could be a nice lake here. Never know.”

They continued along the massive cracks in the surface, occasionally stopping for more sappy water. Hunger worked its way into Tyra’s gut slowly, reminding her that death was still a very real possibility. There was a surprising lack of other animal life. There should have been more varied forms, even in this minute patch of land they had traveled across the massive surface. One variety of plant? One simple animalistic creature? Was competition so fierce that only these couple of creatures could stand to survive? Even what little plant life existed on the tops of the mesas seemed to be the same trees here, simply truncated and weak in comparison.

“What’s that look like to you?” Joshua asked, nodding to the distance.

“A cave.”

“A cave indeed. What’d I tell you?”

Joshua and Tyra rushed forward, reaching the entrance. Joshua finally dropped his hold on Tyra’s hand and stepped in. A subtle breeze disturbed her hairs.

“There’s a wind coming from within,” Tyra said. “That passage must lead a ways in, like the other.”

“That part could be a problem, but it’ll have to do,” he replied.

Tyra nodded and walked into the cave as well, settling into where the inky black pushed back against the light. A trickle of humidity lingered on the air. It was a relief and also a pain, making her body cry out for more of that bit of warm moisture.

“Water?” she asked.

“I’ll get more.” Off he went.

Tyra relaxed against the cave wall. The lip of the cave showed a shred of the sky above the towering plateau in front of them. It was likely that her peoples were still in the space above, trying to figure out what had happened to the ship. As far as they walked, there wasn’t a chance they made a good distance between them and the ship. All they could do was hide now. Joshua especially. There would be no hesitation to fire upon a human target in this scenario. Any Lithovespa troops would deem him a possible intel threat. As for her? She would likely be an unknown element. Possibly considered a hostage at first.

It was possible they may try to search on land, which meant a ship would be close enough to hijack. Tyra brought her legs in. Was she going to betray her kind yet again? She only sought survival. For herself, and her one single partner. Then… perhaps that was something better left to his choice.

Joshua returned with the refreshments, handing one stick to Tyra.

“Joshua, sit for a moment,” she said.

“I was planning to,” he said, taking up a spot in front of her.

“It’s possible they may try to land and seek out what happened to the ship,” she said.

“Yeah, and?”

“That would be your passage to freedom.”

Joshua drank a bit of the sap. “You want to go for it?”

“That is your decision.”

“What about you?”

“I cannot pass judgment.”

“Tyra, it’s your people, you have to decide if you want to go down that path.”

“I’ve already gone down that path. It is why we are here. Why I am still breathing. Failing my species repeatedly is what I have done.”

“Alright, ease off. If you fucked up, that’s just something you’ll have to live with. I can’t make that decision for you. Not only that, but you’re the only one who really knows what we’re up against.”

“I suppose that is fair.” Almost annoyingly so. Joshua wasn’t going to allow her to force her misery and pity upon him. She looked to the mouth of the cave.

“So? You think it’s worth it?”

“I’m not entirely familiar with the recovery groups. I know they operate small militarized cargo ships to retrieve technology, as well as carry hefty amounts of explosives if unrecoverable. There are either one or two pilots to minimize losses in a war zone.”

“I think we can take one or two guys. Assuming your males aren’t giant stag beetles or something.”

“They are roughly my height, perhaps occasionally taller. They will not hesitate to impale you if given the chance, however. That is, if they do not deem you worthy of capture.”

“Right, your cool horns there.”

“Cool. Yes.” It took her a moment to realize he meant they were impressive, rather than the expression of temperature. “They are skilled combatants, I can assure you that much.”

“That’s going to be a problem. Only advantage we have is what we know of the terrain.”

“Not entirely.”

Tyra reached behind her back and unhooked her weapon. She made certain to turn it sideways in her palm so as to not alarm him, then placed it down on the ground in front of them. Joshua looked down at it, then back up at her. There was some pained curiosity in his expression.

“I kept it as a precaution,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Fear.”

Joshua pursed his lips but made no protest. His expression softened, then he nodded.

“Alright, is that going to pierce their armor at all?”

“It is designed to puncture human tissue, not a chitinous hide.” Tyra pressed the magazine release to reveal its ammunition.

“It’s ballistic?”

“It works well against humans. That is all that’s required.”

“Fair enough. So, would that at least... take them out?”

He was likely dancing around the word “kill” as if Tyra was a naive fool. It was only fair, considering her pathetic outburst.

“If it does not pierce, it will certainly stun. Assuming you do not hit something vital or vulnerable.”

“Like the eyes.”

“A fair target, but do not think they will not armor that sensitive portion.”

“Right. What are they armed with?”

“Miniaturized magnetic rifles would be my guess.”

“So railguns.”

“Similar, yes. Unarmored, you will likely die if they are to hit anything except your farthest extremities.”

“Sounds like some really bad odds here.”

“They are.”

“Two guys maximum, deadly up close, deadly at range, with a ship packed with bombs. Ready to kill or capture. I can’t even imagine what other gear they might bring with them.”

“I suppose you will not want to participate.”

Joshua picked up a rock and tossed it out into the scorching heat. “What else are we gonna do?”

“Subsist on moisture? Consume worms?”

“That’s not how I want to live.”

“This is all assuming they intend to search for us. They may deem us unworthy, or find another more important matter to attend to.”

“Could send out a distress, couldn’t we? Set it all up.”

“Possible, assuming the ship is not completely destroyed.”

“It’s been through worse.”

“Much worse.”

“We’ll have a look tomorrow. I’m beat.”

Tyra nodded, wondering what the night would bring.

_

The day seemed to crawl ever so slowly across this planet. Tyra had to assume at least some of it was due to how much she hated it. Joshua continued to supply them with fresh sap, but it wasn’t enough to stave off hunger. He tossed that light implement from hand to hand, rolling it back and forth.

“Nothing to consume?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Joshua replied, sitting back down in front of her.

Night had only barely graced the sky, with the last remnants of gold flittering across the horizon. With the darkness brought a refreshing amount of cool, offsetting some of the pain of its dry nature. The darkness crept a little too far, starting to strain even Tyra’s eyes. Joshua activated the light implement, as no doubt, it was close to pitch black for him. Though Tyra reached out to lessen its intensity with a turn of the hand across its surface.

“You know what I could go for right about now? A burger, right off the grill. Slap some onions, tomato, and lettuce on there.”

“I’m unfamiliar with the concept.”

“It’s food mashed between two big loaves of bread. You just pick up the thing and bite in,” he said, miming the action. “I’d kill for one of those, right now. Meat, vegetables, bread. All time classic.”

The mere words of food like that stirred something in her gut. This was exactly the opposite of distracting themselves from the issue.

“Speak of something else.”

“Sorry, just had to get that out of me. I guess I miss home a lot more than I thought.” Joshua looked to the edge of the cave. “I always thought it would be really cool to go to other worlds. Turns out it was the worst decision I ever made.”

“It is not by your choice that you are on a planet.”

“Maybe not, but I took the ship, I went treasure hunting. Karma.”

“Karma is not entirely compatible with your Abrahamic views, is it?”

“You’re lecturing me on my own beliefs now?” Joshua chuckled.

“Merely curious.”

“I guess it is a little weird. Being out here, on another horrible world, almost makes you think you’re out of God’s grasp. Not even sure how much of that I believe in anymore.”

“There may be several outside forces acting on the organism of the universe, carving paths into it.”

“Yeah? Which one made me decide stealing a ship was a good idea?”

“You decide the path, they merely create it.”

“Figures. I’m always at fault.” He smiled.

“Why did you decide that?” Tyra asked.

Joshua raised his eyebrows and sighed, setting aside the light orb. “I got drafted, was shipped to the middle of nowhere, and decided I didn’t want to do any of that crap. They put me on flight duty and training since I had the vaguest experience holding a boat together. Let me tell you, they are not even remotely the same. So, I’m crammed into a cargo ship, told what to do, and I ask myself, ‘Do I really want to die out here?’ and you know, I figured, ‘No, no I don’t.’ ”

Then he had some training. The more psychological side of it likely hadn’t instilled itself in Joshua, giving him some fortitude in the physical, yet uninterested in the valor and routine of it all.

“And that is where you ended up in the graveyard.”

“Yeah. Ship battles got tossed around like wildfire.”

“An entertaining way to pass the time, I suppose.”

“It’s either that or polishing your gun for the fiftieth time. Literally and figuratively,” Joshua said.

Figuratively? Ah… Right.

“Though it took a few hops to throw them off the trail,” he added.

“The distress you launched as we were making our escape, that was a failsafe to prevent tampering with the ship,” she said.

“Must’ve been.”

There was a lingering silence. Tyra had to add her own input to this conversation as humans enjoyed hearing similarities in one another. It would cement their position as friendlies. All the same, she wanted to divulge.

“My position in the war, it was a restructuring of my occupation.”

“Scientist to spy.”

“That is the gist.”

“Kinda cool, huh? Well, I guess not, the way you talked about it.”

“I was less than enthused with the concept. Autopsies and study became surveillance and plotting. It is frustrating to have your work turned into a weapon, or, I suppose, have yourself formed into that weapon.”

“How many of you guys actually studied humans? You guys never struck me as the type to be all that interested.”

“Few. Natural curiosity in a sentient species was present, but little so interested as to pursue research past what proved lethal to your kind.” She rubbed her mandibles together. “It’s vexxing. How could they not want to reach out to a new sentient species? To understand how they grew in a space perhaps similar and so alien to our own? To see how they were molded by reality?”

“Now that you mention it, this is a dream come true, in a way.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s pretty normal as a kid on Earth to look up at the stars and want to meet aliens. Here you are.”

“That realization brings some jollity to the situation, yes.”

Perhaps, in her violent reaction to their situation, she had forgotten that Joshua was the product of an entirely alien world. A living, breathing creature like her had traveled so far, bringing them together. Reality had split them apart via a vast and hostile cosmos, but they had managed to defy that separation. Almost a rebellion against their very existence. In a more literal sense, it was rebellion, seeing as how they were set to be enemies on a grander scale.

“Don’t suppose you were guessing we were little green men?” he asked.

“Truthfully, the most prominent extraterrestrial theory was a floating sphere with several arms. I believe it is theorized to be a genetic fear of an ancient predator. Or perhaps that was my theory?”

“I’m still hoping we see those green guys some day.”

“Are you unhappy with the ‘Vesperratus?’ ”

“Can’t say I’m not bummed out we’re at war, but no, you guys are fine. Honestly I was expecting something way scarier.”

“You consider me scary, then?”

“Not anymore.” He shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to you. I’d say ‘cute’, maybe, but I’m sure that would rile you up.”

“It is certainly not offensive.”

Though it was curious. Tyra herself was generally opposite to human appealing sensibilities. Chitinous plates, static expression, few hairs, large mandibles. If anything, she was closer to what they considered vermin. Then, that could have been his own mind molding her into a more positive light as they worked together. Or he may have been an odd outlier in what humans found appealing.

“I’ve been wondering, you guys find us scary?”

“Perhaps in your ability to spread quickly and dominate several ecosystems. Otherwise, you are merely considered odd creations of the universe.”

“So it’s probably hard for your guys to play up the enemy, huh? Sucks.”

“Your weapons of war fill that frightening niche well enough.”

“At least we’re respected.” Joshua smiled.

Tyra looked to her hand. Its waxy, armored form reflected the orb’s light. Cute. She didn’t feel cute. She felt like an unwashed vagabond, servant to no cause. Joshua seemed unfazed by that, despite being the same. He unabashedly abandoned his post, as if it were the most natural thing to do. Cowardice drove some of his actions, sure, yet he was carving his own path, just as she had so often dribbled on about. Perhaps… she could join him on that path. Not out of a pathetic need for companionship, but as a wrangling of one’s very own existence. They belonged to neither side of the war now, so why bother trying to please either of them?

“Check it out,” Joshua said.

Tyra followed his gaze to the outside. Gentle streams of dark tubes began sifting through the sand, slowly undulating up and down through it. Joshua approached the lip of the cave. Tyra followed, but not before grabbing her pistol. There were hundreds of them, all pushing through the sands. The shifting of earth caused a subtle hiss that only echoed in the ravine.

“Think they taste good?” he asked.

“I would wager not, yet I am not in any mood to protest,” Tyra replied.

Joshua produced his knife and wagged it back and forth, his elastic features shifting to express thought.

“You should probably have a look at them before I make a wrong move,” he said.

“Certainly.”

They were curious creatures. They had bands along their bodies, overlapping scaled plates. Certain bands seemed to extend a little further outward, bulging at the sides. Small openings in those portions had sand pushing through them. Collecting microscopic creatures to eat, then? The ravines likely had the largest source of moisture for them, at least if the plants were anything to go by. Then, it was also possible their waste helped to fertilize those plants.

“It doesn’t appear as though they have any form of defense aside from an armored hide, but exercise caution,” Tyra said.

“Right,” Joshua replied. He stepped out into the ravine and crouched down. There were a few tense moments, and then he snatched one with his bare hand. It wriggled in his hand but made no violent attack. With a firm whip, he slammed it against the edge of the cave. There was a loud crack and then the thing fell limp. Impressive, if grisly.

“Not exactly cautious.”

“As cautious as my gut was willing to be. Now let’s check this thing out.”

Tyra couldn’t complain with that line of reasoning. Joshua settled back in the cave with his catch, testing his knife along its side. He jammed the blade under one of the scaled plates and bent it forward, revealing a pinkish interior. Tyra was ready to tear it to pieces then and there, but she knew her partner would prefer to have his meal in a more prepared way.

“I wonder if it tastes like an eel. Definitely looks like one,” he said. “You know, I’m surprised I’ve never eaten eel.”

Tyra merely looked to him with a tilt of the head.

“Right, food,” he said.

Joshua took the sticks he used for sap and began working on a bundle of fire. It wasn’t long before he managed to get ignition and began nursing it with quick breaths. Tyra looked back to the herd of the creatures. None of them had changed course or even slowed their progress forward. Just a constant stream of the beasts.

“Alright, prime cut of uh, one of these things.” Joshua roasted a chunk of it over the fire.

“Sand eel, perhaps?”

“Don’t you want a name from your own planet, too?”

“I cannot think of a similar tube-like creature from my home.”

“Sand eel it is.” He shifted his knife over the fire, cooking every part of the impaled flesh. Joshua handed the knife to Tyra. “Ladies first.”

“Thank you.”

Tyra took a few delicate tastes, running the bits of meat around her mouth parts and across her many tasting pores. No trace of anything poisonous, but she wasn’t sure she’d even reject it at this point. She took more pronounced bites. There was a familiar sweet touch buried under a placid and generic meaty taste.

“I taste no poisons. It should be safe for you,” she said.

“You can taste poison? Why didn’t you say so before?” he asked, taking the knife.

“You performed your own poison tasting ritual before. I had assumed you did not want to risk the process this time.”

“You’re the dedicated taste tester from now, alright?”

“As you wish.”

Then his earlier social cue was, at least, partially legitimate. Tyra watched him consume his own portion, ready to assist if it did somehow post a deadly response to his biology. His chewing slowed to a stop, with his brow furrowing.

“This thing tastes like chocolate,” he said.

“Chocolate, yes. That was what was familiar.”

“You’ve had the stuff?”

“I’ve studied human artifacts from harnessed cargo.”

“Something tells me you weren’t supposed to be eating them.”

“Perhaps not.” Tyra gave an exaggerated shrug.

“Well, knock yourself out. I’m not too big on chocolate. Just save some for me.”

Tyra had already taken one of the discarded sticks and placed another chunk on it, slowly letting it cook.