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[human-encounters-diary]

Day 16

As the human and I did not share any duties during this particular cycle, I decided now might be a fitting time to inform the Vitrichl about the aforementioned book, which could possibly grant a further insight into Terrans.

Despite the quite serious circumstances we are currently in, I was able to secure a time frame to initiate a conversation regarding this topic.

I repeated the information V-7 had been able to conjure on this as well as other stories and reports on humans.

"There seems to be one…obstacle, though: The book‘s last documented location is in system Skė-51-33, which does not seem to be even remotely near our current route.", I eludicated.

The Vitrichl seemed to consider the information given, keeping in mind the reason the SIIR Noxos usually avoids this particular system: its unfriendly and occasionally aggressive nature.

Concluding, I was able to convince the Vitrichl through the benefits this book could provide in the task of studying humans, causing the Vitrichl to eludicate that changing the route was currently not possible, but as soon as the chance was offered to us, we would make a short detour through this system to retrieve said book, given that the book was still located there.

In the meantime, I was tasked with retrieving as much possible information on this particular and other sources about humans.

Our arrival on Fendaar is imminent, as we are nearing the planet‘s atmosphere. Further reports will follow.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 15

We are set to arrive on Fendaar in two cycles. As we are currently stuck on the SIIR Noxos, I have concluded that the passages of time that I am free of duties would be best spent continuing to observe the human. The human, on the other hand, seemed to have different plans in that matter, as it took me an unusually long amount of time to locate her.

As I eventually found her, she seemed to be working on one of the control panels in the main control room, so I may excuse her absence with duties she had to attend to. As she saw me, although, she seemed rather…excited (this is obviously mere speculation, as the study of the Terran so far has provided far too little evidence to prove such theories)?

As she rolled out from under the control board and sighted me, her face once again split into a wide opening revealing her horrifying amount of teeth.

"Hey! Dude!", she said, raising to her full height and stepping towards me, still baring her teeth, although I did not recoil, as I did not want to seem impolite. She raised her arms, each pointing into a different direction, away from their connection to the human's body.

"Human Quinn. How are you?"

"Me? I‘m fine, the whole 'wandering around in space' thing just made me throw up, I honestly don‘t know why they insisted on keeping me there for two whole days."

The ends of her fingers, studded with claw-like (rather short and rounded instead of sharp, perhaps they were not meant to function as claws at all, or perhaps the beings on Terra were far different from what I knew, and therefore a shape like this was far more useful to hunt) protuberances, scraped over the back of the connection between her head and her upper body. If I interpreted her facial expression correctly, she seemed to be thinking.

"Maybe I got a light concussion too, I’m not entirely sure. But it's improbable, because I’m fine now."

I decided to focus on one piece of information at a time. "Well, this "throwing up" can certainly not be a healthy nor normal process, otherwise, it would not seem so violently painful and involuntary, would it?"

"Well it‘s not…unnatural, it‘s just something that can happen. And about health, it‘s not unhealthy, it usually helps us to get rid of stuff that is bad for our bodies!", she eludicated, moving one of her arms in a rather random manner.

"The scientists have concluded that this fluid is highly acidic. If this 'stuff' is so harmful to you, wouldn‘t it just dissolve in this fluid before being able to cause any further harm?"

Quinn seemed to think about that. 

"Well, just because it gets dissolved, doesn‘t mean it‘s gone, you know? It's still in our bodies, and we have to get rid of it somehow. And if it needs to be fast, we throw up. Honestly, I‘d definitely explain this further to you, but Biology‘s never really been my strongest subject, ya know what I mean?"

I did not, in fact, know what she meant, but I decided against questioning her further.

After a pause the Terran spoke up again: "So, this planet we're landing on..." "Fendaar.", I clarified. "Right. So, this planet that we‘re going to, it‘s a desert, right?" "That is correct." "So, is it a sand, an ice or, I guess you could also count rock desert? 'Cuz on my planet, we‘ve got all of those types."

"Fendaar‘s ecosystem is mostly made up out of sandlike landscapes with rather scarce vegetation and biodiversity. Most of the planets in system 36-54 have rather extreme temperature ranges, and Fendaar is no exception.", I eludicated.

"Alright, cool.", she spoke, rolling back under the underside of the control panel she had been working on previously. She seemed to be sitting, or rather lying, on a piece of metal with four small wheels attached to it, allowing her to move it around.

"Your planet.", I initiated. 

"Yeah?", she responded, while continuing her work on the wiring.

"Am I assuming correctly that your planet has a far bigger biodiversity?"

"Oh, yeah.", there was a small spring in her voice, as if she had let out air in the middle of speaking. "Big biodiversity. We‘ve got deserts and rainforests, coral reefs and permafrost - although perhaps not for that long anymore - mountain ranges and all that stuff."

"Interesting.", I supplied, for lack of a better response. If Terra had such differences in temperature and landscapes, it was a logical conclusion that the humans had evolved to survive under such circumstances.

"Yeah."

It was unusually quiet for some time. That was, until Quinn rolled out from the underside of the control panels.

"Alright, I‘m done." She took a deep breath before opening her mouth once again. Then, all of a sudden, the muscles of her face started contracting as if she was plagued by an invisible pain. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let out horrifying noise, holding an arm angled in front of her nose and mouth. The noise itself was not particularly loud or long, but I recoiled either way, as a measure of safety. I could not be certain if this gesture was meant to harm me, after all.

Quinn‘s arm sank down again as her other hand rubbed at her nose. She huffed, a sound far less threatening than the one she had produced a moment ago. One of the hair patches above her visual organs raised itself, prompting the question to arise if human hair was controlled by muscles or if it had a mind of its own, although this was a question that could be further investigated later. One of the corners of her mouth raised, revealing the seemingly sharpest teeth in her mouth.

"I guess dust is an inter-galactic thing, huh?"

I did not respond. Her face muscles contracted, causing the skin above her visual organs to crease.

"Hey, you okay? You‘re looking a little spooked over there."

"Human, I do not wish to cause you discomfort, but, if I may ask, what was the purpose of the noise you just uttered?"

She did not respond for a moment, blinking with both of her eyes as she stared at me. It was quite unsettling, considering her previous explanation, that most humans preferred not being stared at. 

"I…sneezed?" The creases in the skin above her eyes deepened.

My front pliers uttered another rattling sound. "What is this 'sneezing'? What purpose does it serve?" I admit, I was quite curious. Terrans seemed much more complex than I had previously assumed.

She paused, seemingly to think of an answer. "Well, it‘s like…if something is bothering us at or in out nose, like dust, for example, it‘s kind of the natural response to that. To keep things out of our bodies that don‘t belong there."

"Human bodies seem to require a lot of defense mechanisms.", I commented.

She raised and lowered the connection of her arms to her upper body, baring her teeth once again while raising herself to her full height, using one of her arms as support.

"Y’know, it’s surprisingly hard to explain something you’re so used to to someone who’s never heard of it. I guess I still have to work on the whole 'awareness that I‘m around aliens' thing. S‘ kind of surreal."

She patted off her clothing, as if to remove non-existent filth once again. I had noticed the past few cycles that most of her clothing seemed to consist of several, usually differently-coloured, pieces of fabric. 

Her clothes usually covered her body from the connection between her arms and torso to the connection between her legs and, presumably, her feet. Her feet were usually also covered, although I could not determine the purpose it was supposed to serve in the environment we are currently in, although the theory that the conditions on Earth are vastly different compared to the ones on the SIIR Noxos is gaining more probability, based on the Terran's narrations.

The human seemed to evaluate a question she wanted to ask (this is, of course, a mere speculation based on previous observations: her face muscles were contracted to form a crease over her visual organs, which could so far most likely be interpreted as confusion, thoughtfulness or discomfort; her head was both slightly raised and tilted to one side at the same time, a gesture that was most likely supposed to convey an ongoing thought process).

Although, before she could utter a noise, V-7 informed us of a request from the Vitrichl to gather for a matter of importance.

The purpose of his summoning was to divide the crew into several smaller groups that were to be assigned with different tasks to fulfill once we sucessfully landed on Fendaar.

I was grouped with the Terran, which was unsurprising, as well as Tkzt, a member of the species that is widely known across the galaxies as Ctzas (it is to note that the Ctzas have not evolved any form of written language and communicate exclusively through clicking and chittering sounds. The written forms of, for example, names of this species, are written by other species to produce approximately the same sound as the Ctzas make when recited verbally).

Tkzt, as a member of the unit controlling supply chains and keeping a list of the stock of the SIIR Noxos, would make a helpful addition in our task of seeking out the nearest settlement in order to stock up on supplies.

After all matters of importance were settled, the crew dissipated, continuing their respective tasks. The Terran was ordered to stay and to assist the Vitrichl in another matter, which is the reason I did not cross paths with the human again for the rest of this cycle.

Despite this, I am positive that accompanying the human on an foreign planet will give me a further insight into the species' mannerisms and interaction manners with foreign species, which will prove to be helpful further on in studying the human.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 14

I have received…indifferent news about the human‘s state, by which I mean, I cannot describe her current state, as I have not received any actually comprehensible further information.

Wrin has decided to pay the human a visit at the beginning of this cycle. After they returned, they sought me out to report back, despite not single word about my task being uttered in their proximity.

They leaned against the wall next to me without a word, so after a few moments, I spoke up: "How is she?"

"She seems alright, at least she‘s most definitely not about to die.", Wrin responded, taking a swig of the bottle in their gloved hand.

"Would you be more specific?", I requested.

"Well, I don‘t know, I asked her how she was doin‘ and she said she was 'peachy keen'."

My front pliers uttered a rattling sound. "And…what does that mean?"

"If I knew", Wrin said, taking another sip. "I haven‘t known her for that long either, and I don‘t know anything about humans. She does that weird thing sometimes though, when you‘re talking to her, and she says something that is true but kind of sounds like a lie? I dunno, might be that."

"Would you care to elaborate?", I repeated, slightly suspecting that Wrin was already too intoxicated to form coherent thoughts.

"Kind of like…y‘know, sometimes it‘s also the other way around, and she tells a lie, but kind of in a mocking tone? I don‘t really get it either. Must be a 'human' thing."

Telling lies mockingly? Perhaps Wrin was simply not eludicating well enough, but I would have to investigate this claim further. Perhaps I would pay the human a visit myself, if I was permitted.

Unfortunately, before I could act any further, another technician rather desperately retrieved me to assist in the main control center, as they were, apparently, understaffed for the circumstances we are currently situated in.

Resulting in this, I did not face the human at all during this cycle, but I have received news that she has been discharged from the medical quarters, while the medicals further analyze the test results they recorded.

Furthermore, we are set to enter Fendaar‘s athmosphere in 2-3 cycles, so we will be able to let the SIIR Noxos get mended properly and stock up on necessities.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 13 The human remains in medical care, although visitations by anyone except the Vitrichl are currently prohibited by the medicals, preventing me from gathering any further observations of human behaviour. I did, although, receive access to a sample the scientific unit had taken from the fluid that the human had regurgitated after her space excursion during the previous cycle, and the results of its analyzation are…rather alarming. The fluid itself is incredibly acidic, and managed to dissolve all test objects given into the fluid in a matter of moments. This obviously raised an even larger question: What was it? A bioweapon? A natural venom? Perhaps Dorag's tales were more credible than previously assumed? Assumptions that could not be proven certainly. But the most alarming aspect of this is rather another question raised by these discoveries: If humans naturally posessed such a bioweapon, perhaps naturally produced it in their bodies, what did they need it for? The existence of such an mechanism implied the probable existence of a predator strong and agile enough that it was vital for humans to develop such a mechanism.

Even if that assumption is proved to be untrue, this discovery still turns humans into a much bigger threat than we had previously determined.

(Further note: One of the medicals has reported the human had repeatedly protested against any advances to provide her with medical care, continuously insisting she was alright and in no need of medical care. Despite the known durability of humans, she will be kept in medical care for at least one more cycle.)

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 12

I apologize for the rather abrupt ending of the last record, as circumstances became rather frantic after the recorded incidents. I will apply my best efforts to summarize the following events shortly. After the human volunteered to perform the repair of the damaged outer hover engine, a rather heated discussion broke loose, concerning the risks and other possible solutions to the current situation. The Vitrichl decided that the human should perform the repair, as long as it was proved that her chance of survival was high enough. Several tests were performed, and all of them concluded that the human had a surprisingly good chance at surviving the excursion, although it was unclear whether she would return unharmed, as there was simply not enough information known about Terrans.

The Vitrichl ordered for a group of personally selected mechanics and scientists of the crew to supervise the excursion over the video recording of the space suit the human would be wearing. I was assigned as a part of this group. The human itself, inexplicably, remained incredibly calm, seemingly not grasping the gravity of the situation at hand. Despite my best efforts to make her aware of the responsibility she was assigned, she remained unresponsive. "I am applying my best efforts to make you aware of the risk you are taking.", I stated, trailing after her. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I read the safety thingy, like, three times. And basically the entire board team will be there to guide me through the entire process and tell me exactly what to do. I'll basically not even have to think myself." "I would appreciate it if you did not neglect your thought process during such an important task." "Of course I won't actually stop thinking, it's just a way of speaking. Anyway, you'll have the entire video footage from my suit and as long as the suit remains intact, I should be fine.", Quinn continued. "Still, the probability that the system fails and you do not return…" "Is low enough.", Quinn cut me off.

"Listen, you oughta stop worrying. I might know nothing about alien technology, but this crew knows about it. And, to our luck, I'll have direct contact to them the entire time." She stepped into her assorted suit, machines around her closing and tying everything into place. Eventually, a helmet was lowered onto her head, the reflective surface hiding her face. She extended her right arm, lowering all her fingers except for the first and biggest one, which she pointed upwards. I could not decipher the purpose of this gesture, and as I could not see her facial expression, I was not able put any of my previous knowledge of humans to use.

The human underwent several further safety checks, before the medicals decided it would be appropriate to start the mission at that time. The task of the human was first to simply observe the entire damage, in order to confirm that our monitors grasped the entire extent of the damage. Furthermore, she should, under our supervision and precise instructions, reverse the worst damage she could and, at best, reverse the engine into a working state. The human was transferred into the duct from where all outerboard missions that did not require any larger equipment where started. As soon as the door opened and the human stepped into the void, medicals and scientists scrambled to examine her vitals. "Vitals are steady", a medical informed. Wrin pressed several keys on the control board, establishing the communication line between Quinn's suit and the SIIR Noxos. "Okay, Quinn, how do you feel?", Wrin, who was, for their standards, surprisingly sober, spoke into the communication tool. "Well, I feel like I've just drank a shit ton of water and then gone onto a roller coaster one too many times. Besides that, wow", Quinn's voice sounded from the other end. "Alright, I'm just going to pretend I understood any of that. So, give us a bit to get the suit camera sorted and then you can go on.", Wrin drawled, pressing a few more keys on one of the monitors. As the technicians confirmed a stable signal, Wrin began to guide Quinn into the direction of the damaged engine.

The human's vitals remained stable as she approached the engine in question. As instructed, the human began a scan of the area through her suit, linking the results directly into the main control quarters. Through the analyzation of the information, the technicians were able to confirm that there was no worse damage than our previous scans had recorded.

The human began to work on the engine. She removed the outer layer of metal within a few moments, which was almost fully demolished. As she worked towards middle of the structure, I observed her every step. She moved coordinated and careful, as if frightened that the engine might implode if she didn't (which was, admittedly, a rather real threath). Eventually, she removed a piece of charred metal, exposing an accumulation of cables. Wrin straightened as I took the communication tool from them and spoke into it: "Quinn, these cables are of high importance. Would you be able to reach the brown cable and remove it from its place? As careful as possible.", I added. Despite my, in my eyes, rather clear instructions, the human continued to reach towards a completely wrong cable. "Human", I interjected. "I do not mean to be insensitive, but that is not the cable I was referring to." "Huh? But that one's brown?", the human responded, tone signaling possible confusion, although I could not be sure, as her face was still hidden. "Human-", I started once again, thinking of the most polite way to phrase the following statement, but I could not finish, as Wrin pushed me away rather aggressively before taking the communication tool themselves. "Quinn, the mechanic‘s referring to the second cable from the far right.", Wrin eludicated. "…but that one's Magenta!", Quinn protested further. "Not to the mechanic. Different eyes, different colour perception.", Wrin quipped. Quinn said something indiscernably quiet, before continuing, carefully following Wrin's instructions. As these records' purpose is to observe human behaviour, I will not go into much detail describing the repair. If you wish to obtain more precise information about the details of this particular repair, I suggest you visit the archives, in which we keep all records of repairs, routine check-ups and everything else regarding the state of the ship, to gain a further insight.

The human proceeded the repair, although another thing of note happened rather towards the end: After the human had reconnected several wires and added a new protective layer on the engine's surface, the technicians tested whether or not the engine would start, obviously after the human had moved to a safe distance. The technicians started the engine at its highest setting, but with no success. No sound emitted from the engine. "Wait, let me try something.", the human sounded over the communication line. In spite of any common sense, the human moved closer towards the engine. The human inspected the engine, before suddenly, for some to me inexplicable reason, hitting the engine repeatedly with the flatter side of her hand. "Alright, try again." "Human Quinn, it is imperative that you move out of the immediate proximity of the engine.", I stated, but the human refused. "No, I wanna try something." "Human, it is-" "On one, come on, guys.", Quinn cut me off. "Start the engine on one." Against better judgement, the technicians began to prepare another start of the engine. "Okay, ready? Three, two, one, go!", besides my best efforts to stop them, the technicians started the engine at the exact time as Quinn hit its outer layer again. Fortunately, the engine did start. Unfortunately, the stuttering start of the engine produced a pressure wave that catapulted the Terran away from it. Eventually, her body was stopped by the cable attached to form a connection between the space suit that the human was wearing, and the SIIR Noxos. The body of the human did not move. Wrin, seemingly concerned, spoke into the communication line. "Quinn?" It took a few moments before we received any kind of answer, the silence filled with a slight buzzing sound. Then we registered the human's voice over the line. At first, the human only produced several sounds, possibly signaling pain. Then: "Well, I'm never doing that again." A pause. "Did it work? Is the engine stable?" "The engine is running. I wouldn't call it stable, but it will get us far enough.", one of the technicians informed.

Silence.

"Alright, Quinn, we‘re going to pull you back into the ship. Try not to move too much and uh…don‘t die.", Wrin spoke up.

"I can do that."

As the retraction program was started, I, accompanied by Wrin proceeded towards the intertravel duct. The human arrived shortly afterwards.

The suit seemed to be unharmed, a good sign, but its owner did not.

As a robotic arm removed the helmet and started to disassemble the suit, the human stumbled out. Stumbling, that was not a good sign. The human’s complexion was even paler than its naturally bright shade. And the skin of her face seemed to have a slight green undertone. Had it always been there? I could not recall. Perhaps their skin changed colours, similar to Wrin‘s species?

I was brought away from these suspicions, as the human opened her mouth and released a brown-green, odd-smelling fluid out of her mouth and onto the floor. This couldn‘t be normal, could it?

The human was immediately referred into the, for a ship and crew this size admittedly rather small, hospital wing. The medicals are currently observing and recording any interesting observations regarding the human‘s body. Unfortunately, while the medicals are treating Quinn to the best of their ability, it is difficult, as there is so little known about humans.

Although, perhaps this way I will receive more information regarding the anatomy of humans.

I will continue to record the recovery and the state of the human.

[human-encounters-diary]

We have received vital information from a contact that called itself "The author". We were not able to trace back the origin of the received message, so unfortunately, no further information could be found out.

The message itself was rather simple. The "author" talked about how they were "going on vacation" and there were no communication tools aside from their "portable cell device" available, therefore this story would undergo a "short hiatus" until "June 8th".

Although the message seemed rather simple, it was almost entirely unfathomable to me. None of us were familiar with the term "going on vacation" or "short hiatus". I assumed that "June 8th" may be a way to measure time and a "portable cell device" was most definitly a tool of communication, although I have never faced any records on this one in particular.

All of this information is still currently under investigation. Until we have processed and analyzed the given information, the usual updating schedule will be adjusted to the messages' contents. Until "June 8th".

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 11

ATTENTION, EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED. I REPEAT, EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED.

As it turns out, one of the machines in Sector 2 has suffered severe damage. Fortunately, it is not an extremely vital part of the ship, but the prospect of arriving on Fendaar unharmed and in short time is becoming more and more improbable.

As I am one of the highest ranking mechanics on the ship, I was occupied during most of the cycle with reversing the worst damage. 

As we mended the machinery, we discovered a far more urgent problem: The previously damaged outer hover engine has now come completely shut down, and as a consequence, the SIIR Noxos will steadily become slower, until we will be trapped in the middle of an hostile system with no prospects of receiving help, as we would still be far too far away to contact a ground station on any nearby planet with our communication systems.

There was one way to mend the hover engine into a barely working state, but it would require someone to approach from the outside, which would, in normal circumstances, already be extremely dangerous, and in a state like this, it was highly unlikely that the person performing the repair would come back alive. After a few moments of debate, we decided it would be best to request to speak with the Vitrichl and the rest of the crew to eludicate our situation.

I described the problem in as much detail as possible and informed the crew of our inevitable impending death, to put it shortly. 

"So, basically", the human spoke up. "If noone goes out there to fix the hover engine, we‘ll stop moving eventually and then we‘ll all die either of starvation or of running out of oxygen, or whatever you all breathe."

"Yes, if you desire to voice it in that fashion", I affirmed her statement. "Unfortunately, it is way too dangerous for any of us to go out there, as the survival chances are close to none", I eludicated further. "Possibly, we could still make it far enough to be within communication reach with a nearby planet, but that is also highly unlikely."

Quinn extended her hand upwards. 

"I‘ll do it."

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 10

The Vitrichl has made the decision to have routine patrols guard the most vital parts of the ship. It is not entirely surprising that I was assigned to guard Sector 3 with the human.

The human was - surprisingly - quiet. It caused slight concern within me, as the human was never as silent as during this cycle. She kept rubbing the protective skin over her visual organ, as if something was irritating her.

After a silence that lasted too long, she finally opened her mouth, minimizing my concerns slightly. Firstly, she let out air harder than necessary, possibly a signal of distaste. Then, she asked: "Wanna play a game?", while raising the corners of her mouth slightly. "We are not allowed. We are in a high emergency situation and need to be on guard at all times."

"It‘ll be really quick, I promise!", she continued. As I did not want to anger the human, I decided on compromising: "I accept. I suppose one game will not lead to the immediate demise of the ship and its entire crew. As long as it is quick."

She bared her teeth at me for a moment, before scurrying over hastily.

"Alright, so, the rules are really simple", she said, taking what seemed to be a writing tool of sorts out of a non-visible crease in her clothing. She started drawing a simple register on the floor, and it resembled this:

"Where I come from, we call this game 'Tic Tac Toe' ", Quinn continued. "So basically, each one of us gets a shape: I get a cross and you get a circle. The goal of the game is to get a row full of your sign. It can be horizontally, vertically or diagonally, but it cannot be broken by another shape, because then it won‘t count. The game stops when one of us wins or when all the squares are full without a winner."

"That is quite simple", I agreed. "Alright, you start.", she decided, handing me the writing tool.

I placed a circle perfectly in the middle of the board. Quinn sucked in air sharply while clenching her teeth, but otherwise did not seem visibly upset. She drew a cross in the down right corner. I drew a circle in the up right corner. She drew a cross below my original circle. I drew a circle in the down left corner.

"Boom. Congratulations, you won.", she informed me, and she seemed to be…happy. Her tone was light and her stance casual, her legs folded across each other in a seemingly painfully twisted way. Why would she be happy that I, her opponent, had beat her at her own game?

She took the writing tool, judging by density and appearance a piece of charcoal (a widespread substance, which is quite easy to find in most galaxies), and drew a line through my three circles. I was rather confused by this gesture. Was she denying my win? Was it simply to show that I had won this particular game? Was it a truce agreement? These questions stayed unanswered.

We both raised and Quinn seemingly tried to wipe away the drawings with her foot, but her efforts did not pay off. Eventually, she capitulated and we retook our positions. As we continued to patrol for the next few hours, no further conversations occurred, as the task at hand was of utmost importance. Although I did notice, that while the human did not speak anymore, her body seemed to be speaking for her. She was almost constantly shifting on her feet, walking a few steps before stopping again, and her hands seemed to have a mind of its own, touching everything near them, for example her fingers, nearby equipment and her clothing. What could be the reason behind this behaviour? Was she, perhaps, suffering from an illness? Was she bored again? 

I realized I would have to ask her to receive answers, but I decided to do that at an…more appropriate time.

Soon, the exchange team for the next shift arrived, and the human and I parted ways.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 9

We have entered system 36-54. This has proven to be a mistake.

As the SIIR Noxos was running low on supplies, the Vitrichl made the decision to stop in the next closest system to restock on necessities. This particular system is usually not exceptionally aggressive, but we were faced with the misfortune of passing through a meteor shower as soon as we entered the system. The SIIR Noxos was, thankfully,  spared of total destruction, although parts of the hull and one of the outer hover engines were badly damaged. 

The SIIR Noxos is in need of repair and it is crucial that we perform an emergency landing as soon as possible. We are currently headed for the planet Fendaar, a desert planet with a relatively peaceful population, but it is uncertain if we will even be able to get there, with the state of the ship.

The Vitrichl has ordered everyone on the crew to be on high alert in a emergency situation like this, so unfortunately, human-watching is not the highest on my current list of priorities.

The likeliness that I will be able to devote much time into observing the Terran is rather low, but perhaps if we do make it to Fendaar and the ship is recovered into a working condition, I will be able to redirect my attention towards this particular task.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 8

Doubts regarding whether or not the Terran liked me where certainly and indisputably diminished at the beginning of the next cycle.

Quinn seemed to have predicted my intention of speaking to her as soon as possible, given that she sought me out shortly after the new cycle had begun. She was walking towards me in a rather strange manner, faster than normal walking, practically jumping with small flying phases in between taking the next step. I could not discern the purpose it was supposed to serve, but I was not given time to put too much thought into it.

She bared her teeth at me once again, although this time I did not recoil. One of her hands hit me languidly slightly above the juncture where my first pair of legs joined my upper body. I was uncertain what this gesture was supposed to convey. Was it an attack? Was she trying to notify me of an imminent danger approaching?

"I wanna show you something", she informed me. She waved her hand from my direction towards her body, which, if I inferred correctly out of the previous records, was supposed to signify me to follow her.

I trailed after her, letting her lead me to the emergency in question. As it turned out, there was no immediate emergency. The Terran came to a halt in front of one of the few windows built into the outer layer of the SIIR Noxos. She pointed to it as I joined her side, leaving a (as I aimed) respectful distance between the two of us. I followed her extended arm with my visual organs, ending up staring out of the window. 

I blinked. If there was an immediate threat outside the window in close proximity, I was not able to glimpse it. The human spoke up: "It‘s beautiful, isn‘t it?"

She had sunken to the floor, a rather alarming sight at first, but she seemed unharmed. 

I searched for an appropriate response, but in the end, I simply answered: "I suppose. Although my species does not linger in the beauty of transient things."

The human‘s face morphed into a grimace of displeasure. "Then what‘s the point in life?"

"My species believes that there is more to life than oneself, and that intelligent life is supposed to be dedicated to the exploration of science.", I eludicated.

"Hm. I guess y‘all aren‘t too different from some humans. Y‘know, we humans have the phrase 'Appreciate the little things'. I mean, the universe isn‘t exactly small, but…it‘s definitely nice to look at." "I suppose", I repeated.

I lowered myself onto the floor as well, as it seemed appropriate. I gazed upon the universe outside the window. I suppose there was something quite beautiful about it. 

Eventually, I broke the silence.

"May I ask a question?", I requested, careful not to be impolite. 

"Yeah, sure", she answered.

"I watched the video recording of your work in Sector 3, simply to control your work, and you…seemingly began to sing? While continuing to work? I am merely trying to understand the reasoning behind this. Does it serve a religious or cultural purpose?You were not bored by your task, were you?" My front pliers rattled quietly. Something about the thought of the human being bored made me…rather uneasy. Perhaps it was due to my mind imagining what the human might come up with to pass the time in case of boredom.

The Terran blew air out of her nostrils rather aggressively, but there were no other signs of irritation.

"Oh, no", she answered. "No, it‘s actually just because…well, my dad taught me everything he knows about handling machines, so when I used to help him out in the workshop in the afternoons, and we‘d be like…fixing a car engine or whatever, we always used to turn up the radio and sing along. It was kind of our thing. So nowadays, when I‘m working on something, I might start singing. Not out of boredom, just a habit."

"Your…dad.", I repeated, uncertain what that term was supposed to mean. 

She looked at me in a indiscernible manner. "Yeah, my father, my parent, whatever you wanna call it."

"I apologize. I was unfamiliar with that term.", I stated.

"Oh. Sure."

She opened her mouth once again to say: "Y‘know, um…I mainly just wanted to show you this and also thank you, y‘know, for…giving me something to work on."

"It was my pleasure. I admit I might have given you a rather simple task to begin with, but that was merely because, while the Vitrichl stated you were competent, he and I have…differentiating views on the word 'competent'."

She bared her teeth once again, although shortly, before raising to her full height and, for some inexplicable reason patting down her clothes as if to remove any dust, although her clothing was perfectly clean.

"Well, Cap wants to see me again today, so, I guess I‘ll see ya tomorrow."

"Indeed.", I retorted.

Without another word, she turned and waved one of her hands behind her as if to signal her departure.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 7 (Part 2): The tape

I have made it my highest priority to observe the human these past cycles. Therefore, it would obviously be beneficial to access the recording of her work on the engine in Sector 3, which could possibly grant me a further insight into 'human' behaviour. 

The recording of the human began as I had left it the prior cycle, with the human working methodically through the parts of the engine, exactly like I had demonstrated. She seemed to learn quickly, although it was uncertain whether that was a trait all humans possessed.

Nothing of note, except for the fact that she uttered the phrase "Fuck me!" after dropping a piece of equipment. I assumed this was perchance a human profanity, given the tone of the human and the circumstances in which it was uttered.

The Terran kept working for quite some time without anything of further note, until, all of a sudden, she opened her mouth again.

At first, I assumed she was speaking. It was not visible to whom, perhaps herself, although that would have been a subject of utmost concern, since it was unclear if humans regularly talked to themselves or if this was, perhaps, a sign of a faltering mind. 

But, as I came to realize, it was far too melodic. She seemed to be singing. The indicator for this sudden outburst was unclear. Was it out of religious reasons? Was it part of the humans‘ culture? Why had she started so suddenly? I found no certain answer.

Perhaps the book V-7 had informed me about had a section about humans‘ relation to music. Unfortunately, the book was most certainly still located in system Skė-51-33, and me suddenly acquiring possession of the seemingly only copy was not exactly probable. I‘d have to ask the human.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 7

The Terran, as it proved, seemed to become more and more talkative every cycle. I did sight her in the meal hall today, as she sat on the surface of one of the tables, rather then on one of the stools surrounding it.

She seemed to be conserving rather animatedly with Wrin, who was still relatively clear-headed, for their standards. Quinn must have said something that caused a rather strong reaction in Wrin, if the sudden change of their complexion from its natural dark blue shade into a bright pink and back was any indicator.

I had spent the rest of the last cycle studying the previous entries to determine whether or not the human seemed to have any clue about my task of observing her. I came to the conclusion that, up to this point, the human had not signaled any discomfort due to suspicious behaviour, but I certainly should continue to be careful and not try to appear threatening or dubious.

I retrieved the human and proceeded to carry out the tasks at hand. It was relatively silent in the main control room for a while, until the human put down her current tools with much more force than needed, possibly signaling anger.

"Y‘know, I ain‘t trying to be rude, but this is really boring.", she spoke up.

My front pliers rattled in concern. "Are you…underwhelmed by your work?" This statement seemed completely illogical to me, but alas, I could not come up with another interpretation of the words she had uttered.

"I mean, no, but…yeah? I‘m not trying to say that its underwhelming, it‘s just…like, I‘m on a goddamn alien spaceship, y‘know? And I get to work with all this crazy alien technology, and that‘s amazing! But, once you‘ve figured out how it works, it just keeps working like that and everything‘s doing exactly what it‘s supposed to be doing and there‘s no real challenge behind it, y‘know." She had begun to wave her hands around in a manner which purpose I could not discern.

I remained silent for a while, processing the enormous amount of information that the human had just verbalized. No real challenge? What was that even supposed to convey? 

"I am not quite certain if I understood your complaint correctly. You are…upset due to…understanding the technology?"

"No! It‘s not that, just…you know, humans like challenges. We like to solve unsolvable things. For some, it‘s even a hobby. We need to challenge our mind and brain for it to develop. So, if we are faced with a kind of monotonous situation, we get bored."

I blinked. Were human brains really that much more complex than I had previously deemed?

I was not certain what would be an appropriate answer to such a revelation, so I said: "I regret that your mind is unchallenged by the work that has been assigned to you, but I fear I have no say in the matter. It is the Vitrichl‘s wish."

"I‘m not asking for a different job. I quite like where I am right now. I‘m just asking you if I can do something besides just standing here all day long. I was raised to use my hands. I can run errands and repair stuff and I‘m good at making adjustments and figuring out what is wrong with a machine. I can do that!"

I contemplated the suggestion for a while. I would not go against the Vitrichl‘s wishes, and right now, the ship was running smoothly, apart the two leaks in close proximity to each other. I attempted  to think of something "more challenging" for the human to be tasked with. As nothing came into the front of my mind, I consulted V-7.

"V-7, are there any machines in need of a reparation that could be performed by the human?"

The human jumped in distress as the AI answered after scanning the ship. 

"The engines in sector 3 seem to be in need for a routine check-up."

"Holy shit, it can talk?!", the human spoke up, causing me to turn in it‘s direction. The humans complexion seemed to be even lighter than its natural shade, although it tended to be the most extreme around, what I assumed was, her nose (a protuberance placed in the middle of its face, seemingly a bone structure covered with skin, with two holes at the bottom facing the ground, perhaps nostrils).

I blinked once more. I could not determine what a "holy shit" was supposed to be, so I simply decided on answering the human‘s question. "Yes. "It" is called V-7, an artificial assitant integrated into the ship.", I informed her.

"There seem to be engines in sector 3 that you could examine."

The Terran made movement with her hand, swinging it from her body towards the door, seemingly indicating for me to take her to the location. "Lead the way." 

I guided the human to the aforementioned sector and instructed her on the proper routine check-up etiquette.

I observed her method for a matter of time before deeming it safe enough to leave the premises. In the main control room, I continued to observe the human over a video recording V-7  displayed, until another problem required my attention.

Once I am given the opportunity to watch the full tape, any further observations will be recorded here.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 6

Regrettably, there is little to report today. The Terran did not appear in the main control room, and I was informed by the system integrated into the machinery, that the Vitrichl required her presence and would likely for the rest of the cycle.

I went on to execute my daily duties as always, and had little time to focus on the operation of finding out more about humans.

I resorted to inquiring the programmed system V-7, that functions as an assistant, both in the main control room as well as the rest of the ship.

I researched about any possible sources, works and written down information about humans that existed. As I had expected, besides mythological narrations and outdated cautionary tales, there was not much to be found. 

One report did strike my attention though: a description of a book, a handwritten one, last known location: system Skė-51-33. Not exactly the most fortunate information, given that the current course of the SIIR Noxos did not come even remotely close to this particular system, mainly due to its unfriendly nature.

But I am certain that if I arrange an audience with the Vitrichl and inform him about this book, we might be able to quickly pass through this system and acquire this book as soon as possible, given that V-7‘s  source is actually credible.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 5

I successfully made contact with the human today. As per usual, I completed my cyclic meal intake, but did not come across the human. When I arrived at my work station, the human was already present. She turned around to me and once again, her face warped into a horrifying grimace similar to the one on the second day, baring her teeth and raising the corners of her mouth in a rather threatening manner. I recoiled, although fortunately, the grimace was gone as soon as it had appeared. The human did not seem to notice my discomfort, and simply turned back to her work station.

After a moment, I felt secure enough to approach my own work station. As we worked in silence, I pondered if this was perhaps not a sign of aggression, but rather a way of greeting among humans. Although this thesis could not be supported by any real evidence, as baring ones teeth was a universal sign of aggression among most species.

The human, suddenly, seemingly without any indicator, spoke up: "Y‘know, I just realized that I never asked your name. That must‘ve seemed terribly rude of me." "I was not upset by your behaviour", I decided on after a moment.

"So what is your name?" "My species does not participate in the gifting of individual names.", I explained. "We simply address each other by their titles or their profession. I am addressed as 'mechanic'." 

"But that‘s…boring and sad." My front pliers uttered a rattling sound. "I have never known anything else." Her vocal cords vibrated, producing a barely detectable humming sound. 

The silence did not last long. "Can I ask you a kind of personal question? You don‘t have to answer, obviously…I was just wondering: Do…all of your species look like you? Kind of like, insect-looking, six legs, pliers, compound eyes type?"

"The anatomy of my species does not wary greatly. We all look quite similar, yes." "Oh, cool"

I tried to word my own following question as polite as possible: "What…about your species? Do your individuals vary greatly from each other in terms of physique?" 

"Well…kind of. I mean, we all have, like, the same 'ground structure', I guess you‘d call it? Like, anatomy-wise? But we like, can vary in, for example skin colour, eye colour, hair colour, height, weight, so shape, basically. Uuh yeah, that‘s what‘s coming into my head right now." She had started 'counting' with her fingers while she spoke, taking one finger for every thing she listed.

"That is quite astounding, compared to my species.", I informed her. "Yeah, I guess you could say so…", she opened and closed her mouth, producing a clicking sound as her teeth clashed together. Seemingly, she had wanted to say another thing, but decided against it.

Before I was able to strike up another conversation, Wrin walked, or rather, stumbled into the main control room, a bottle in their gloved hand. They informed me that, apparently, there was another leak in one of the machinery rooms that they wanted me to have a look at. Although I doubted their words, I followed them nonetheless, even if it was solely to reassure them. 

As it transpired, there was an actual leak, which I had to spend the rest of the cycle repairing and checking that there was further damage or similar leaks, since there had been two in a row in a rather short matter of cycles.

When I eventually finished the task at hand, the cycle had almost come to an end and the human had left the premises to indulge in her (now dark) recharging time session.

As I stated in the report prior to this one, I do not draw conclusions, but I have a slight presentiment that the human may like me.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 4

I do not believe in luck. It is not something my species is familiar with. We believe in science and logic. I was not even aware of the concept of luck or faith until I left the planet my species populates. So I do not  believe that it was a coincidence when during this cycle, the human was assigned to work with me. I did not see the Terran during my cyclic meal intake, and was immediately called into the main machinery room without a sight of it.

The Vitrichl appeared shortly after with the human in tow. Vitrichl eludicated that the human had proved to be a skillful worker and was now officially assigned to my unit unless the Vitrichl explicitly stated otherwise.Vitrichl left to attend his other duties, leaving me with the human.

I turned to the control panels covering the walls, and speaking into a small microphone, I introduced the Terran to the machine. "This is human Quinn. It is officially part of my unit and will assist me." 

"It‘s 'she', mate.", the human corrected. "Excuse me?", I asked, careful not to be impolite. "She. My prounous are 'she‘, not 'it'.", she explained. "I apologize. I did not mean to upset you." "It‘s alright, mate. I‘m not upset, just correcting you for future reference.“ "Thank you", I decided on the safest route.

"So, a mechanic as well? Cool.", she folded her fingers into her hand and extended it to me. I was not confident how I was supposed to respond to this gesture, so I once again, did nothing. Eventually, she retracted her hand and let it disappear into a fold in her clothing which appeared to be a pocket. 

Clothing, I noted. Not many members of the crew of the SIIR Noxos wore clothing on a regular basis, apart from their space suits. This obviously raised even more questions: Why did she wear clothing? Was it out of religious or cultural reasons? Out of personal comfort? Did all Terrans wear clothes or was she a special case? Did specific clothing symbolise specific things? These are all questions I hope I will be able to find out the answer to one day.

"Soo, like…what am I supposed to do around here? Do I have like, a specific task or…? Cap didn‘t mention anything." Cap. That was a word the translating device wasn‘t able to translate. "Cap?", I questioned further. Her face muscles contracted in a manner that made the patches of hair above her visual organs move closer to each other and the skin above them fold.

"The captain?", she said. "Of course, I apologize. The translating device did not recognize that word. I call him Vitrichl."

"Oh, is that his name? He didn‘t say anything." "No", I reassured. "It is simply the word "Captain" in my species‘ language." "Ah okay…", she said. "Well, what about my task?" "Of course.", I assigned her a simple task, showing her where to work and what to do. We then continued to work in silence. I did not object, because it gave me plenty of time to observe the human.

Humans, or at least this one, seemed to have rather random patches of hair on their head. Attached to the protective skin over their eyes, in a line above the eyes and on the top of the head. In human Quinn‘s case, it grew down, barely reaching her chest and was of a deep brown colour, just like her eyes. 

The muscles in her face never seemed to stay still, always contracting or smoothing while she worked. It was probable that facial expressions played a big part in human communication.

She still stood on two legs, upright and used both of her arms to work. For some inexplicable reason, she usually held a piece of technology or something similar in only one hand, but seemed to keep switching sides in a rather random matter.

I‘d have to ask her about it, but it did not seem like an appropriate time.

After working for some time and me continuously observing her, she set down her equipment and spoke: "Y’know, you‘re probably not aware of this, but humans consider staring rude." She turned around on her feet and faced me, seemingly watching me process this information. I quickly responded, careful not to irritate her further after having done something so insensitive. "I apologize. I was not aware of humans‘ stance on this behaviour and it was not my intention to be rude or make you uncomfortable. If I may ask, though, I have been watching you for some time now and I did not notice you ever turn around to face me until now. How were you aware I was watching you?" 

"Well, I could just kind of…feel it. I sensed your gaze in my back. Kind of like a sixth sense, you could probably say." I blinked. Sensed my gaze? Sixth sense? What were the other five then? 

I voiced these questions: "What do you mean you sensed it?" 

"Well, I just kind of had this feeling of someone watching me. Don‘t you ever get that feeling?" Flabbergasted, I said no.

She raised and lowered the part where her arms and chest joined once again, similar to the gesture she offered on the second day. "Well, I guess it just must be a human thing." "I suppose", I agreed, and with that, she turned back to the control panel she was commanding and we continued to work in silence, although now I was keenly aware of my every move and careful not to let my gaze linger on the Terran for too long.

She left before I did, apparently to take in another of her daily meals (something that was not necessary for my species). Soon, the cycle was already over before I encountered the human again.

I have made great progress during this cycle and I believe that if the human continues to work in my environment, it will be easier for me to discover more information about humans. 

Perhaps that is why the Vitrichl put the human into my section. Perhaps this was his plan all along. But I do not draw conclusions. I simply propose theories.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 3

Quinn. That was its name, apparently. I was aware that other species and cultures sometimes gave their people individual titles (some after maturing, some at birth or hatching), which they were called by by others. "Humans" seemed to be no exception. It differed from my own species, which called each other by their titles, usually relating to their profession. Younglings were called by their parents‘ title added to "Young". I was simply "mechanic", both to my crew and to my own species. 

When I arrived in the meal hall, there was no sign of the "human". I decided against questioning it, and instead focused on finding out more about "humans". I concluded asking my fellow crewmates could not be the worst idea. And I was, once again, correct. 

None of them were able to tell me much about the Terrans, as I had expected, but I could gather some information. Dorag told me that they were omnivores, and could even eat an amount of plants that were poisonous to most of the other species populating their planet, without further complications. But he also reported to me that their stomach acids were strong enough to dissolve metals, so I have decided that his account can not be trusted until there is actual proof to support it.

Kaxzlang told me that he had heard that they had more than one set of teeth, one pair during their youth that falls out and grow back stronger upon maturing. This was a more credible report, since a lot of species that undergo a similar process exist. Wrin informed me that they thought they had heard "a while back" that human bites can be lethal to most species and even their own, but I must add that Wrin is not the most credible source there is, since they spend most of the time intoxicated.

Although the most interesting report was from Uhngfjôd. Hoj reported that "humans" were not disabled by the removal of a limb and would continue moving and fighting if necessary. If you wanted to fatally incapacitate a "human", you should always aim for the head. Obviously, this is an astounding information, and I do carry a fair amount of doubt regarding it, but hoj swore by han honour, that hoj had seen it with han own eyes, and it is well known across the galaxy that for hoj species, the Fanglavads, maintaining their honour and keeping their word is of highest priority.

I have made it my mission to investigate all of these claims to see if there is any truth behind them. Furthermore, I will continue observing the human to the best of my ability.

I did not come across the human during the remaining cycle, but I will make my best efforts to seek out contact with it. All new acquired information will be reported and documented here.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 2

Since the Vitrichl tasked me with observing the "human", it was not surprising that I was assigned with waking the "human“ from its recharging time session. The quarters of the human were at a, for my species, tolerable pressure, so I was not required to wear a pressure regulating suit while entering.

I found the human to already be up in its cell. Its cell did not vary much from the other‘s quarters. In one corner, there was a metal cylinder with padding inside, so it was certain to assume that "humans" were one of the species that recharged by going unconscious for a certain amount of time.

 The human looked up as I entered its quarters. It did not move at first, seemingly scanning me with what could possibly be their sight organs (two white spheres set in the skull, with a small brown ring in the middle, facing my general position). I could not be certain. The moment did not last long before the human raised itself to its full height. Four limbs. Bipedal, it seems.

I, urging to not offend the Terran, decided on simply asking "How was your recharging session?", something that would not usually be seen as a threat. I seemed to be correct, as the Terran opened one of the holes on its face, revealing a horrifying amount of what seemed to be teeth. But then it spoke. The translator in my internal auditory organ made a crackling sound, before immediately translating what was said. "Oh, uhm, it was alright, I just couldn’t find the light switch, so it was…kinda bright. But still, it was way better, I‘m not complaining or anything! On the prison planet, you could barely sleep because it was so loud. Everything‘s better than there. Hell, I‘d rather sleep on the cold hard ground here than go back there." 

I blinked with four of my six eyes. "I am afraid I do not understand."

The human, seemingly mirroring my motion, blinked back with both of its two eyes. "Well…humans usually require it to be dark in order to get a restful sleep. Or, not require, but most prefer it."

"I see. I will look into the issue." I would have expected this offer to bring the human joy, promising to change something that was bothering it, but apparently, I was wrong.

It stepped forward, and its face suddenly warped into a horrifying grimace. Its mouth, in fact, seemed to contract in a what looked awfully painful movement, reforming its shape so that the corners seemed to point upwards. I stepped back a step, finding myself in the doorway. 

But it did not attack. Instead, it raised one of its upper limbs and extended it into my direction. The ends of its limbs each had five small junctions, possibly fingers, if this species was in any way similar to any other species I have ever met. I was unsure what it wanted me to do with its extended limb, and I was careful not to act impolite towards it. Eventually, it let its limb fall to its side again. I was afraid I might have angered it, but it did not seem irritated.

"Not a shaker? Yeah, me neither, really. I‘m Quinn, by the way." It spoke again. I could not fathom what a "shaker" was supposed to be, so I decided to try a distraction method.

"A part of the crew is taking in one of their cyclic meals in the meal hall right now. I am unfamiliar with your species‘ eating habits, so I apologize if this is an insensitive request, but would you like to dine as well?" 

"Oh. Sure, food sounds good." It raised and lowered the part of its body where its limbs were attached to its upper body, a gesture that I could not fathom, but I did not question it.

I went back to the meal hall, the human following me, and I showed them what to eat. The only food we regularly carry on the SIIR Noxos are different vitamin components, which, when mixed together form a not very delectable looking but nutritious gruel. This way, we can assure the nourishment of all the crew members without having to go to ridiculous lengths to get what their bodies need to keep on working.

The human seemed to share my opinion about the looks of our cyclic diet, contracting its face muscles into what seemed to be a grimace of distaste.

Nonetheless, it consumed it without further complaint, but for an odd reason it did not sit down, but rather kept standing next to the supply depot. It finished its meal rather quick, and then we parted ways, as Vitrichl required its presence.

I did not encounter the human again for the rest of the cycle, as my species usually only consume one meal per cycle, and there was a leak in one of the machinery rooms, which I had to assistance in repairing.