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[chronicler-harrington]

Interlude I

In the beginning, when earth had only just cracked the code to FTL transportation, it followed the same vein that most other forms of transportation have over the years. Only the rich, political figures and of course, the militaries of the richer countries. 

This resulted in an interesting result, as the dying planet was deserted by the majority of people who were contributing the most to its destruction. This did little to soothe tensions at first, as destruction was still very much imminent. At least at first. As time went on howe-

*sound of an opening door as Chroma sneaks in*

Ah, what are you doing in here darling? I’m kind of in the middle of something.

*Chroma beeps indignantly*

I mean you can hang out here while I do my recording but you have to keep quiet, okay?

*Low rumble from Chroma*

I really hope that's a yes. 

Ahem- continting. 

As time went on however, fears seemed unfounded. Admittedly, things weren't getting worse, however the end of the world, even in its accelerated forms, is a slow process, even among creatures who cosmically, tend to live rather fast lives. 

As the environment worsened, people found that they could adapt and move on. There were losses of course, deaths of an uncountable sorrow, but humans, as they do, adapted. Animals and other such creatures could not adapt as quickly, and the diversity that was once plentiful began to thin. 

It wasn't until one acclaimed scientist stepped to the spot light that the battle to reverse the planets state bega-

*door opening again, and someone who is not Harrington speaks* 

Here you are! Goodness Harrington! I nearly searched the entire ship looking for you!

*Harrington, clearly surprised*

Uh, How did you get here, Kersia? I wasn't even aware you were on this vessel. 

Oh come now, not even a hello? You said you were on this ship in our last call. I happened to be nearby so I hopped aboard when you were in port last.

…. Sia that had to have been at least a week ago. It's not a large ship. The least you could have done was tell me. 

Yes yes my apologies about that however work did get in the way. Ironically enough it's also what brought me here. Your newest project could be rather helpful with my own. 

*heavy sigh from harrington*

Okay. sit down, what do you need and what's going on. 

Ah, wonderful Harrington, I do appreciate your attitude for work. It's rather simple really, I received a tip about a research trip to a relatively overlooked planet. From the little information I have it's entirely uninhabited. 

No sentient life then?

Ha! That wouldn't be anything new. I mean, my dearest human, that aside from overgrown plant life, nothing else is alive on that planet. No animals, no fish, nothing that even slightly resembles fauna in any way. It's all Flora. 

I hate to say it, Sia, but that's not entirely my realm of expertise. I focus on-

On human culture, yes I know. I wouldn't have rushed across the universe for something as petty as plants. 

Hold on, I thought you were nearby when I last called?

Not the point! This planet has plantlife, no fauna, BUT! It holds the overgrown remnants of architecture. Advanced architecture! Long dead, but they existed for long enough to create a decent society on this tiny ball of earth! I have no confirmations of course, but given images, and the theories of other researchers who have already been near, we suspect that it may be-

A lost human colony!

Elementary, my dear watson!

Pfft, that's not how that saying works, but continue. 

Do not pluck the leaves from my shade! I was saying that yes, it's highly likely. And given the lack of evidence to the contrary this seems to be a case of forgotten history, or forgotten by history. It's not unheard of as I’m sure you're aware. The only issue is what happened. 

I… would have to get a look myself, but I think I can wager a guess. I was about to actually do a recording on Earth's Sixth mass extinction, so I may be in the apocalypse mind but…

Oh come now, you can't tell me that's all that you're doing for your log? Boring human history that anyone could learn from a textbook? Goodness Harrington, the people want drama! Excitement! Not extinction. Pack your bags! I’m getting us passage on the next research vessel headed out! 

Book for three, Chroma is getting big enough that some vessels count her as a separate passenger, not a pet.

Ah, you did mention. Speaking of, Hello Chroma, it's been some time hasn't it. Oh just look at how your feathers are coming in! I simply must take a sample!

I wouldn't recommend it. She sheds them every few days, I’ll get you one then. In the meantime, get us those tickets!

Yes yes! Right away my dearest! This is going to be quite the adventure!

*door opens and closes and Kersia leaves hurriedly*

Goodness, whirlwind of a woman i tell you. Ah, recorders still on. Well I suppose it makes good context for whatever is about to happen. I suppose…

Chroma, and Harrington, signing off.

[chronicler-harrington]

S o o n

[chronicler-harrington]

Log 5, Foreign Music

Have you ever thought about music? Humming and bobbing along to a melody you sing in your head, or that rings through the air. The gentle rush of emotions with each note and melody. I have never been a singer, nor have I ever had the desire to write a song, but music is something I will always appreciate.

Hersia, as she requested I call her in my log, is a scientist that I occasionally find myself working with. Unlike myself, who usually jumps from ship to ship, Hersia has stayed with the same crew and ship for the last several years. Hersia however is very, very private. She rarely talks about anything other than work, which, as a scientist, it's often assumed that her life and her work are close to one.

Incorrect on so many levels, not the least of which being the professional face Hersia adopts when speaking of her recent discoveries. One may assume she is a hard working and stoic individual, and not realise she is sarcasm in human form.

Hersia had, on this particular day, been working on something small and inconsequential. Report logs of her findings that day. Nothing mind shattering or important. As such, in her usually locked and sound proofed cabin, Hersia took to a simple hobby she has been doing as of late. Putting on music was nothing new, she had been doing it for years with no real consequences.

Verenche, however, was one of the new recruits, replacing one of the electricians who had left the vessel at the last port. Being a new hire, and more used to working on cargo ships rather than the more research tuned vessel on which Hersia had chartered, he had little idea of the unspoken rule. Never disturb Hersia when she is working.

Simple maintenance checks are routine, and often done in sections, not unlike patrols. It's not a question of waiting for something to go wrong, it's of making sure that it doesn't. Verenche was already aware of this system, having done it a few times before. Never before however had Verenche had to patrol sector 5, where Hersias lab was located.

The patrol started as normal, doing routine checks that anyone else would. When he came across a door that seemed to have worn out its locking mechanism resulting in it being essentially useless, his concerns were warranted. Daily checks should have ensured that this issue was caught before it ceased function entirely.

When opening the door to further investigate the locking mechanism, the otherwise soundproof lab in which Hersia was currently blasing music loud enough for the entire cosmos to hear was breached. In the three seconds it took for Hersia to realise her door was open and effectively smack the pause button on her computer hard enough to break, Verenche was amazed by the sounds he could hear.

Being of a more insectoid race, Vereche had an innate interest in music. His people, the Bentras had a set of wasp-reminiscent wings, once used for flying, now small enough that their only real function was noise. Music in much the same way Humans sing. The primary difference between the two species' music is that while humans add other instruments, Bentras generally have such a wide variety of sounds they can make that they didn't find the need to develop it.

If Hersia had to find a word to describe the expression on the aliens face, it would likely be amazed bewilderment.

Hersia herself had always thought that music made by races similar to the bentras had held its own unique charm, much like how the sound shifts when a different instrument plays the same song. To see someone discovering a whole set of new music instruments and sounds was like watching someone discover their favourite song.

“Never heard human music?’ Hersia asked, fascinated by the reaction she got from the strange new member of the crew she had only seen a few times.

“Is that what that was?” Vereche asked, lovestruck and lost in his own fascination like a lovesick teenager after his first kiss.

Hersia chuckled at the reaction, ushering him inside and closing the door behind him. Quickly sitting him on the stool by her desk, Hersia pulled up her list of favourite songs, wanting to amaze him with something he had never heard before.

A simple piano song was the answer, faint pipings of violins in the background and a hauntingly beautiful voice that sang of woes and sorrows. As soon as the first note was tapped on the instrument and the sound echoed, Vereche found himself once again surrounded by a strange new music.

What is that feeling when you discover something so amazingly wonderful that you simply can't find the words, when you feel your heart and being rise with the melody. You can almost hear your blood pumping and struggling to catch up, as your chest feels lighter and you can only focus on the vibrations in your ears. That moment as the song begins to rise and you are left waiting in anticipation until at last, like a breath, there comes a slow, drawn out pause that leaves you waiting for the moment the music is a blur in your mind and all you can say for sure is that you are swaying with the rhythm.

Imagine hearing your favourite song for the first time again, feeling the breathlessness in your chest once more, and understanding what it means to be fully and completely absorbed in your music.

Now imagine you had never even heard anything remotely similar before that moment.

To say that Vereche had never heard music like that before would be a correct statement, but to say he had never before had that feeling of being one with the rhythm would be a lie. His eyes were filled with stars, and his mouth hung agape as the last song came to a slow end.

“Do your people dance?” He asked suddenly, as the music came to a stop.

Hersia was surprised by the question, thinking on it for a moment before she nodded.

“Yes, although there are a lot of different ways in which people dance. Ballroom dancing, rodeo dancing, ballet, I know there are more than a few different sports that involve it. Do yours?”

“Very much so. They say that to get the sound just right, you have to feel the wind in your wings. You shared with me your music, may I share mine?’ Vereche asked as he stood up, giving a slight bow.

Hersia smiled, bowing back and moving to shove an empty table up against a wall, and leave a large open - if slightly dusty in places- space for Vereche to perform.

“By all means!” She grinned, hanging back and watching with a keen interest. She had always been curious about Bentras music, and how it was traditionally made. While not a historian, or anything focused on different cultures, a fascination with learning is something that plagues all in the field of science and academics.

Vereche began with a slow tap, tapping his thin feet against the floor as his wings fluttered, creating a low droning that shifted, everytime he moved his feet. His slow, rounding steps quickened, as did the rhythm. It took him less than a minute before he at last seemed to find the moment of acceleration, and within an instant both he and the melody were soaring and spinning, shifting so quickly that Hersia was barely able to catch a glimpse of him, but the song that filled the air was like none she had ever really heard.

Like a thousand small pianos playing in perfect unison at once, no one instrument drowning out the other. There was only one instrument, one sound, but to say it was simple would be a disservice to an entire race. A complex melody of shifting tones and smiling faces met Hersias ears, and much like Vereche before, she was fascinated and enthralled.

When at least, Vereche came to a stop, both parties were left with much to think about. A longing to hear such foreign music again came over both of them, and in the echoing silence, Hersia spoke first.

“I don't think I’ve ever heard something quite as lovely as that.” She smiled

“I would say the same of your music.” Vereche nodded.

“Really? Well then… I’ll tell you what.” Hersia stood from her seat, striding across the room that had been ablaze with movement and song just a moment before. “Work is slow, I can spare a couple minutes between making reports. You ever want to hear something from my personal collection, feel free to knock first.” She grinned, tossing the alien a small disk, a digital music box. “In the meantime, there are about maybe a hundred twenty songs on there? Smaller collection from when I was younger. Give it a listen in your free time. I only got one request.”

“What would you want?”

“Next time you decide to pop in, I wouldn't mind watching another performance.”

Vereche went quiet for a long moment, before nodding. “Yes, I would enjoy that.”

[chronicler-harrington]

Log 4, Wildlife

It's commonly known among most spacefaring species that animals, creatures of every size, are going to be a commonality. From aliens resembling creatures on your home planet, to the more forgein looking pets that many different wanders keep. Even I myself keep a sort of pet with me in the form of Chroma. But pets are not my focus today.

Space cities like the one I come from are often less than appreciative of the creatures that can make a home in their walls. Rats or other small rodentia chewing on wires can be a bit of an issue when they help to keep an entire city from going dark. That's not even talking about the bugs that can hitch a ride in tourists bags without being noticed. My point is, once you have wildlife in a city, it can be very, very hard to get rid of.

Birds however seem to be fairly well accepted in most situations. Hell, some cities even make an effort to make sure they have birds. I have to admit, it can be nice waking up to the sound of chirping birds from not only earth, but other planets as well. My favourite was the Pine herroth, a crossbreed between the earth pine siskin, and the herroth from Krethera. Gorgeous little birds, with a song that just makes you feel like sleeping.

When I had my first visit to earth with my parents, I was simply amazed by the variety of animals that lived so close to humans. My Mim (mother for those of you wondering) had been to earth before some time before, as she had family living there, so there was no surprise there. My Mum (my other mother) however, had never actually been to earth before. There are still a few photos of when we first landed, with both myself and my mum looking starstruck.

I spent so much of that first day dragging my parents around as I chased after every little new creature I saw. I had never even seen a butterfly before, and in the height of summer there were plenty. After a few days, we grew more accustomed to seeing different animals and bugs around, even when poor Mum found a spider in the hotel room, and we discovered just what arachnophobia is.

Again, being in the heat of summer is a startling experience when you’ve only been on a handful of other mild temperature planets and space stations. I don’t remember whose idea it was, but we decided to head down to the beach for part of the day.

Safe to say I was fascinated by everything. It was part of what sparked my own interest in human history. Knowing each grain of sand was however many billions of years old? An unreadable document of the past, I wanted to learn how it worked. Of course, I say that now, however back then I was more focused on the different creatures that populated the beach. Mim, stars bless her, patiently explained everything she knew about every creature I brought her in my little toy bucket. From the dozens of crabs to even the slower fish I managed to catch in my childish clumsiness. I believe I must have brought at least half the beach's occupants to her in the time we were there.

The one thing that alluded my grasp however, were the birds. Anyone familiar with any avian species can tell you how flighty (pun intended) they tend to be. Unless you are slow, cautious and quiet, you have little luck catching any. Well, human children are none of those things. Running headfirst into large flocks is generally considered a bad idea, however children often know little better.

At last, as the sun began to set and I had used up almost all of my energy, I came back to sit next to my parents, and watched rather bitterly as a flock of gulls landed near where I had been playing a few minutes before. Mim, clearly noticing my frustration, simply chuckled and wrapped her arms around me as she pointed out towards the sea of white birds.

“Those birds over there are called seagulls.” She told me. “They are mostly found near any bodies of water, rivers and lakes included.”

I watched carefully as her hand moved from pointing towards the flock, to plucking a single piece of bread from the sandwiches we had been enjoying for most of the day. She tossed it in their direction, much to the confusion of both myself and Mum. they scattered from where it landed, watching us carefully with suspicious eyes.

“They evolved over the years to be able to eat human food without any problem.” She added, as one of the curious gulls stepped forward and carefully began pecking at the small piece of bread that was left there. “That's why they’re usually called sky rats.”

An, in an instant the whole flock was upon this small piece of bread, screeching and yelling at one another until there was nothing left but a small indent in the sand. Any other day and this would have been the end of it I'm sure, however what Mim had failed to realise was that Mum, unaware of the behaviours of seagulls, had begun eating one of the sandwiches that remained.

To see a couple dozen hungry eyes turn at once to you is an experience I do not think I will ever like to relive, even if it comes with amusement in hindsight. Unfortunately, simply throwing the food you still have is generally considered a bad idea. Once they see that you have it, gulls often assume you have more. To say we ran for our lives would be an understatement. Gulls, as i have learned, are rather relentless.

All in all the trip ended rather well, everyone was more aware of animal behaviour on earth, and by the end we had even come to a steady truce with the gulls. Safety bought with food sacrifices, it's not unlike many very ancient traditions of sacrificing in exchange for safe passage across the seas.

Wildlife is very interesting, but I find it's likely best to do your research before you go interacting with it. More often than not it can ensure you know what to expect. On earth, expect seagulls to steal any food you give them a taste of.

Harrington, signing off.

[chronicler-harrington]

Zarris, whom I interviewed in log 3, thankfully agreed to a quick photo. As I mentioned in that log, Aqarnis are remarkably similar to humans, aside from a few obvious differences. For those wondering, most Aqarnis don't really have hair, so much as a liquid called Aqorn, which is only found on their home planet and a fraction of meteors.

[chronicler-harrington]

Log 3, Legends and their forms

I did in fact find someone who could enlighten me on legends in other cultures. While this log is primarily focused on humans, you cannot describe the brightness of the stars without a good understanding of the sky behind it after all.

Anyways, Zarris, as he asked me to call him, is a member of the species known as Aqarnis. Ah, for those unaware, they are remarkably similar to humans, aside from having an extra pair of arms, and six eyes scattered asymmetrically across their face. They’ve been around longer than humans by about a thousand years, so cosmically speaking, rather close to when humans first achieved space travel.

I did learn from my experience with Lark, and asked if he could give his story directly. The following is my transcription of that recording, as best as I could understand. Some of it may seem jumbled, however the ship's engine room where I found him was surprisingly loud.

*recording switches off, before resuming with the loud rumbling of a ships engine in the background, the voice that speaks first is not Harrington(myself)*

How legends are made you say? I suppose that depends. I have studied some of your culture and I would assume it's rather similar. It is knowledge to be shared. It is easier to remind people of a story than it is a textbook. The story has a fraction of entertainment, so it is easier to remember by more people.

How do you know not to eat a certain plant? You tell legends about young facing horrible fates should they encounter them. Much of your legends feature creatures and monsters that resemble humans. The er… Vanire?

*mutterings from Harrington too quiet to be heard over the engine*

Ah, Vampire. It looks like a human in most instances I have found does it not? You teach your young to fear strangers, fear the unknown. Stories keep that idea, but they of course morph overtime. Details lost and shifted.

Fear is not the only thing portrayed in legends. Guides often find themselves there as well. We have a common legend told to our young, my guardian told me of it when i was small. Of a ship passing through unfamiliar territory.

On the ship are three different people, Collector, Seeker, and Sight. Collector is slow in thought, gathers the information they have and comes with an answer, but never looks elsewhere. Seeker is faster, searching in the unknown for an answer, but they never consider what they already have. Sight is their balance. With time, with thought, they can see everything before them.

So, the three lost sailors each come up with their own plan on how to get their ship back to familiar ports. Collector of course, looks at all the maps, all the projections and all the logs to try and trace where they were headed, and where they came from, but without any idea on where exactly they are.

Seeker sets out on their own, speaks to the local people, looks to the local flora, looks at everything around them and learns about where they are, but with no idea on where they came from, or where they were headed.

All while Sight does what Sight does. Watches, takes time and looks to each of the other crew, asks what they both know, and sees the whole picture. The close, and the distant. They restore balance, and with the help of both Collector and Seeker, returns their ship to safe and known waters.

It is a well known story among our kind. So much so that most Aqarnis ships have three captains, The Collector, The Seeker and The Sight, each to do exactly what is told in the story. It has served rather well as an organizational guide for a ship crew's formation. Both space and planetary. I would imagine you have similar legends, do you not?

*harrington speaking and offering a brief confirmation*

Ah, I see. How fascinating indeed. You mentioned earlier that the void space we are currently traveling through brought this inquiry on, yes? While I know of no legends or stories of them in my own culture, there are many different species that do.

Larger minded beings are the primary focus, and while it is possible they do exist still, they certainly have not been noticed in some time. While coincidence is something to consider, the fact that so many different species have stories about it. Well, should you ever come up with a reason as to why, I do hope you would enlighten me.

*recording ends, before Harrington returns in a quieter setting*

This was most definitely a worthwhile endeavor to pursue. Not only the legend, but the idea and commonality behind them. Perhaps it is because Aqarnis’ are so similar to humans, but even then we have many cultural and physical differences. Different averages if you will.

What he said at the end however gives me more to be pondered. I said previously that eldritch beings are thought to be responsible for the Silky Skys poem in my last entry, but the idea that it's somewhat a commonality between different species never really occurred to me.

Then again, what are we to bacteria but massive and unknowable. There is always a bigger fish. Perspective.

I do find that much of this log is turning out to be less the human experience, but the human perspective compared to that of others. All things considered, I don't think I entirely dislike that idea. Much of life is all just one perspective, it would be refreshing to learn of other perspectives.

Hmm. Yes, I do think I will try that in the future.

Harrington, signing off

[chronicler-harrington]

Log 2, Silky Skies and poetry

It's been a quiet few weeks since my encounter with Lark. Of course, it gives me time to transcribe the recordings I’ve already made. I know there are faster ways, however I find doing it personally has a sort of… charm to it. Helps me keep my thoughts in order.

We must be in a void area. A chunk of space that has no nearby planets or space stations. Just stars as far as you can see, distant among the great blanket of black across the sky. Looking out my cabin window even now, I see maybe two, three stars? Ah, no there's a fourth. Anything beyond that is just too distant to see. The human eye was not meant to be able to see so far off.

There is a legend among human space travelers about void spaces. I had to do quite a bit of research on it for a paper once. Rather interesting quite honestly. Something to do with things beyond human comprehension. I believe they stem from the human idea of Eldritch beings. Of course Eldritch beings of old tend to be aquatic in nature, so there's some differences.

Truth be told, the whole fear of such great entities can most commonly be traced back to one poem that made its rounds among human explorers when we first made it to space. Its source has long since vanished, and the author vanished into history.

Silky Skys, endless and vast

Barren of stars, each distant and far

Roam no beast, nor mortal comprehension

Silky skies, water breaking across rocks

Endless river, deep and pitted

What lurks at the bottom

Where even minds cannot find

Silky skies, Silky skies

How I see you so far away

So close, so far, not within arms reach

Bated breath we watch and wait

To be welcomed within its breast

Silky skies, silky skies

At last we may now rest

An odd little poem isn't it? I suspect it's the source of any superstition surrounding void spaces. Of a great creature that to see would turn you insane. I’m no poet, so I cannot say for its craftsmanship, but it was quite popular back when humans first achieved long space travel. A fear of the vastness of space I suspect, made manifest.

Isn't that interesting? I should ask some of the nonhuman crew members about how they process fear. For some they hide, some run, and at the end how do you deal with a constant fear? For so many it seems art is the answer. Of course the Silky skies poem’s author has been lost to time, so we may never know what fueled them.

Hmm…

You know, I once asked someone, a friend, what they thought the silky skies poem was really about. For me, I thought it was fear. They thought it was a sort of love. The way you love a dangerous creature that could rip you to shreds. Although I suppose that's not the right word for it. A fascination, that's better. I suppose to some the two words mean the same thing.

Fascination with the unknown and dangerous. Isn't that where most mythology and stories come from? I suppose it's why this log exists in the first place. Hmm.. yes on second thought I do think I will ask the crew about this. See if there's anything interesting about how legends are formed for other species.

Harrington, signing off

[chronicler-harrington]

Ah, slightly older photo, but one from when I first set out on this little research venture. I must have been recording the introduction at that very moment. Of course, transcribing them takes far more time.

[chronicler-harrington]

Log 1, A look into human cosmetics

I recently came across a young woman who put me into a mind of thought. For those of you who are earth centric, it may surprise you to know that cosmetics are not a universal thing. Nano masks for makeup, hair dye, even how some translators can differ in appearance from small earbuds to larger animalistic ears. I myself have opted for the style that resembles mechanical elf ears. Style is always my primary concern after all. 

My point, if you’ll forgive my ramblings, is that for some species, cosmetics exist and are used, but for others, there is no real concept of altering parts of your appearance. So you can imagine how that may turn out. 

On my recent travels in less human-occupied stars I recently met a young woman by the name of Lark Ullia. Lark was born and raised on one of the many research planets in the universe. Hers in particular was on a planet with a rich marine ecosystem, so much of what made up her early memories involved a deep blue sea. 

When she left, off to become a ship's mechanic in more distant voids, she took to dying her hair a tone of blue to match the ocean. For many years she bounced around, ship to ship, until in a part of space with very few humans, she found a ship that she settled into quite nicely. Well for quite some time she stayed with that crew as the only human on board. 

Many of the crew had not heard of humans, and it's not unusual to find an unfamiliar species in any part of space, so it wasn't such a huge deal as some of you may be thinking. Small corrections to assumptions here and there, as Lark tells it, it was actually rather entertaining to watch. 

One in particular, a telepathic alien who strangely refused to give up the name of her species, was fascinated by the diet of the average space faring human. Another, Larks bunkmate, was absolutely delighted with how humans, when raised in similar environments, can handle what others would consider ‘extreme environments’ such as negative temperatures and tropic heats. 

Well, it was noticed after some time that Lark's normally blue tinted hair was beginning to fade back to its natural black, as Lark had forgotten to restock her supply of dye tablets. To the crew's mind, Larks hair was fading in colour because of her health. Afterall, what other logical conclusion is there.  So, the others hemmed and hawed over what to do, debating over the cause. 

“Perhaps she's working to much, we should give her a break” Some suggested

“No no, i’ve seen this in other species, perhaps she is missing something important in her diet” Others exclaimed. 

Well, much like among humans, miscommunications are rather important to fix as soon as possible. None would raise the issue in front of Lark, some fearing it to be the product of her emotional state and no one wanted to risk it. 

After meals upon meals, each spiced differently to be more human friendly, and work hours slimmed without a cut in pay, Lark would be foolish to not notice the odd glances among her fellow crewmates. At this point however, the reasoning for the sudden shift is completely lost on Lark. 

The thing about space travel however is that it is generally considered rather rude to ask about something not explicitly talking about. I mean, imagine a complete stranger asking about your parents marital status, or why you seem so much larger than another human they have met. The anxiety of are-we-close-enough-for-me-to-ask-without-getting-my-head-bitten-off seems to be one of the closest things to universal I have found in my years of travel. 

So, considering this, no one had really thought to ask Lark about why exactly her hair colour was fading. A taboo long held in space, and one that has both its uses and its issues considering the health of different creatures. Medics are often considered rather blunt in their questions for this reason. 

Everyone was getting rather anxious, and Lark could see it rather clearly. No one had tried to ask yet, and while Lark tried to make it abundantly clear that they could ask her anything and she wouldn't mind, she was not getting much back in terms of responses.

 While her hair was fading, that seemed to be the only thing wrong with her. As far as the rest of the crew could tell, she still had an appetite, still had plenty of energy, and was generally considered unchanged. By the time Larks hair had turned almost back to its original colour, she was starting to get tired of the fact that everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around her. 

It was only when Lark had quite literally cornered her roommate and quite some prying that the truth at last came out. Well you can imagine the reaction, especially when Lark has described her roommate as rather emotional. 

“So you're not ill in any way?” Lark recounted her bunkmate exclaiming after Lark had finished her explanation of hair dye. 

“Not in the slightest i swear. It's just something that changes the colour of my hair.”

“Then does that mean your hair will turn back to normal soon?”

“Yes, I swear. Just as soon as we make it to a port that sells dye tablets, it's back to blue. And until then, I will be exactly the same as I always have been.”

Of course, the crew kept giving her odd looks, although they seemed to dissipate as time went on. When at last they reached a human port, the crew, although mostly calmed, did seem to give a sigh of relief when Lark appeared back on ship, hair as blue as before. 

It is rather fascinating, don't you think, not just the use of cosmetics, but how much the crew seemed to genuinely care for Lark. Although I suppose that's simply how things work on a ship that spends however many weeks in travel. I do quite enjoy hair dye myself, and often stock up on dye before any expedition. I just hope this journey will allow me to maintain my preferred hue. 

In the meantime, We press on!

Harrington, Signing off

[chronicler-harrington]

An introduction

Greetings, space travelers of every species. This journal, should it ever see the light of day, had been created in order to document the species known as humans, of which I am. The universe is rather large, and the many creatures in it diverse, so you can only imagine the tales of a single human explorer and chronicler. 

For our purposes here Harrington is my primary form of address. As of the second last revolution of the moon of earth, I am 36. While I was not born nor raised on earth, the central planet of the human race, I have visited on many a research expedition and find myself not entirely unlike those who were born on earth's surface. 

While the universe is large, humans have scattered to most corners in one way or another. My job is taking the tales that humans leave behind and documenting them. There are some corners where a single human is a great surprise, an unknown species, while others in which human culture is heavily studied. I plan on attempting to document as much as I can before the end of my time among the stars and rolling balls of matter. 

Although I suppose for a start I can speak of myself. I was born on one of the many large space shuttles that are commonly referred to as star cities. Mine in particular, a charming community near the edges of a human colony. Of course that meant I was raised around both humans and other species. Of course, my interests in the human experience started during a trip across the universe, on a small little planet whose name I've long forgotten. 

You see, this little planet was part of an empire that while it was aware of humans and their culture, wasn't actually visited by too many. So of course, I was a tad of an oddity. Well the experience made me ask an interesting question that unfortunately, due to other research, I have only recently gotten the chance to answer. How are humans perceived across the vastness of the universe? 

It's a question that shall be hard fought. I would warn any of you all that I am by no means educated in biology or engineering beyond the average for anyone of our time. My primary education was history of both the human race, as well as several of the more well known alien species in the universe. I am, however, always learning more. 

I suppose I could regale any of my non-human readers of how humans first achieved space flight, and the first few interactions with other species, but anyone who picked up a pamphlet on earth's history could find that out, so i shan't waste the data. 

It was however, many, many years ago, so humanity has, as it is prone to, scattered in the name of exploration. I have even heard that like there are pockets of humans on earth who have never seen anyone outside of their tribe, there are pockets of the universe who have forgotten their prime planets. Not unusual in the grand scheme of things, but it does give a unique twist to my goal. 

I would like to add that while few images may be added to this log, my photography device seems to be a tad off, giving many things a sort of, cartoonish look. Chroma was messing with it earlier, and while she did manage to take a picture of herself, I suspect she fuddled with the settings. Well, considering how hard it is to take a photo of my beloved little lemur, I suppose it's worth it. Even if it is heavily blurred.  

Well anyways, with any luck, I shall have more tales of humans across the universe to you at some point in time! Let us hope it's soon shall we!

Harrington, Signing off. 

[chronicler-harrington]

As proof that Chroma has somehow messed with my photography device, I have provided the singular decent photo of her. She is a lovley little single horned aella, a breed of aella that are an odd mix of lemur, bat and bird from a planet known as Xinerth. Wonderful to have as pets let me tell you.