Tag: space

When an intergalactic mission reaches a critical point that threatens the life of the crew, when all is hopeless, and no other option is in sight, the captain of the crew must – if the crew includes a “human” – activate the WT protocol.

This measure should only be used in extreme circumstances, as its consequences are, despite impressive effectiveness, destructive and highly unpredictable.

If, however, the crew’s life and wellbeing are in danger, then the captain should turn to the “human” and clearly speak the following words:

“This is it. We will die here. There is no way out of this.”

The “human” will immediately direct their attention to their captain. Their answer should approximately be: “There’s always a way”, or “I’ll find something.”

It is crucial, then, that the captain performs the next sentence with as much condescension as can be mustered. They must look at the “human”, and say:

“What can a weak human like you even do?”

Immediately, distance must be brought between the remaining crew and the “human”. The protocol, if successfully initiated, will begin with a show of the “human’s” teeth in something called a “grin”, and the protocol words:

“Watch this.”

In the Encyclopedia of Living Organisms to Be Found within the Milky Way, humans only lead the ranking of all species in a very few traits. These, however, are most curious and still considered to be insufficiently explored and mysterious in their nature.

For how can a species be simultaenously leading in curiosity as well as the ability to establish emotional bonding with any known complex-brained organism turn into a force that unites or destroys entire planets when faced with the simple expression of you can’t do that?

What if all humans are really born as dragon riders? 

What if all of us have a soul out there, yearning and calling out to us and so unbelievably lonely, connected to our own?

And what if the only reason we haven’t become the most terrifying force to ever be reckoned with in the history of everything is simply… that they’re too far away from us? That we were never allowed to find them? We have the legends, we have the stories and almost-forgotten memories passed down from ancestors that desperately tried to let us know, hoping we would bring back what has been ripped away from us. They were here, our myths whisper. Find them. Find them. Find them.

It’s been two hundred years since we first left our planet. Our ships roam the solar system. Trade flourishes and we are met with a strangely reserved kind of respect – almost as if we are merely tolerated, though never outright insulted or rejected. 

And then, a ship vanishes. Another follows. We search for our lost people, don’t find, help refused by the creatures more intelligent than us, stronger, larger, still keeping their distance instead of overthrowing us. But when our ships return, we know why. When they return from what we thought was a prison colony planet full of caves underground and mountains too high to land, we learn.

They all speak different languages, those other creatures, but they share an age-old saying in all of them: 

“You cannot kill a dragon, but you can tame it if you take the eggs from its nest.”

But we’re humans, and they didn’t know what that meant. Without the warmth from our other souls, we took the nearest hand. We made ourselves hatch.

What if all humans are really born as dragon riders?

And what if someone’s out there, waiting for us to find them?

“Tell me the truth,” the human demanded.

The universe rippled, almost like a smile. “I grant you permission to ask any question, and this is what you want to know?”

The human glared a little bit. “Tell me. Unless you’re breaking your promise,”

“Of course not,” said the universe. It pulled the human closer, made the space around it warm, slowed time into a gentle river.

“Well? What’s the truth of if all? The one thing that’s always true, no matter what?”

The universe held its human for a long or short while. Then, it said:
“There’s no always.”

“Okay,” said the human slowly, “okay, but – ”

“The only truth is change.”

For a tiny or an endless while, the human said nothing. When it looked up at the universe, its eyes were shining with tears (maybe happy ones, maybe sad ones; the universe couldn’t be sure. Nothing was certain with humans, and how magnificent that was).

“So even if – no matter what – ” The human couldn’t speak anything else. It curled against the universe and held on tight.

A pulse of light wove around the human as it dissolved. The universe watched its way back to the stars, back to its home, and whispered a little something after it for when it woke up again.

Indeed, my human… you’re right. No matter what, even if something and anything happens, change is true, and truth will always come.

maybe the darkest parts of the universe, the most unimaginable of creatures, unspeakable in any other planet’s thousands of tongues, stay away from earth because they’ve seen what we’re capable of when we fight each other, and they don’t want to find out what we would do to something that threatens all of us.