to add to this “humans are weird” thing
did you know that humans are the only species on earth with the ability to throw things with any significant degree of accuracy and force (apes can throw with about the force of a human ten year old, but cant lock their wrists well enough for accuracy)
and we just never really think about it bc its so easy and simple to us that pretty much all of our sports are based around the concept of throwing things accurately
so
what if the concept of projectile weapons takes most species FOREVER to get the hang of, or even come up with in the first place.
a human goes onto a ship and throws some trash into the nearest reclaimer, shouts “kobe!” and all the other aliens on board absolutely LOSE THEIR MINDS
@caffeinewitchcraft I hope you don’t mind me tagging you but I thought of you and your short stories when I read this ^_^
(Funnily enough, @iwouldbemerry tagged me in this too! And you both are so right!)
Yesenia blew it. Her one and only chance to serve on a Federation vessel (”A what? No, we’re a flag ship for the Intergalactic–” “It’s a reference, let me have this–”) and she’d blown it. The written portion of the interview had gone well, and the oral, but she’d tripped during the physical. Literally tripped. In front of the Captain and the First Mate and the head of Medical–
She gloomily takes a bite of her protein bar. “Why do science officers need hand to hand anyway? We’re not the ones going planet side!”
G’Rung, one of her friends from training, pats her on the back with one feathery appendage. “Maybe you didn’t do as badly as you think. I mean, I can’t believe they pitted a human against a V’afinog! Surely that’ll count for extra.”
Yesenia perks up. “Yeah?” She thinks back to the fight. She thinks she actually did get a hit in when she fell–it may have been accidental but it was still a hit. “Yeah, you know what? I probably did okay!”
“And you’re the first human to even get to the interview stage,” G’Rung continues encouragingly. Around them, their other interview group mates nod, murmuring agreement.
“And you’re really good at Botany,” Marsul says. He gives her the close-lipped smile that means he’s genuinely happy, careful to cover his sharp teeth. “They’d be dumb not to accept your application.”
Yesenia is touched. Marsul and her had never gotten along after the whole smile misunderstanding. Apparently he’d thought she was threatening him for the longest time. “Thank you!” She balls up her protein bar wrapper and looks for a trash can. She spots one behind her and, not wanting to leave just yet, twists in her seat and tosses it toward the narrow opening. “Kobe!” The wrapper doesn’t even touch the edge of the receptacle, nothing but net, and she crows victoriously.
When she turns back around, everyone is staring at her.
“That was lucky,” Marsul says finally.
Yesenia glances around the table, not sure what’s wrong. “Luck has nothing to do with it, dude. That’s talent.”
She’s trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.
G’Rung gapes at her. “Are you saying you did that on purpose?”
“Well yeah,” Yesenia says. “The thing’s like ten feet away–”
“Throw this,” Marsul demands, shoving his own wrapper across the table to her. “Throw it.”
“Bossy,” Yesenia mutters. She scoops up the wrapper and throws it. Again, it goes in. And the next one and the one after that and the one that they have her throw from twenty feet away (that one might be luck).
Her group mates go crazy.
“Come on,” G’Rung says, tugging her up urgently, “Come on, come on, come on!”
“What?” Yesenia stumbles out of her seat, eyes wide. “What’s going on?”
Marsul is right on their heels as G’Rung drags Yesenia out of the mess hall. “We have to show the Captain! If he sees this he’ll have to let you on the ship!”
“Sees what?” Yesenia asks. “And I thought you said I did great!”
“I lied to make you feel better,” G’Rung says, pressing the button to the lift that’ll take them to the command deck. “You did terribly against the V’afinog, I know that hit was an accident–”
Marsul darts around them to open the door and practically shoves them both through it. “Captain! Sorry to barge in, but you have to see this!” He looks around, eyes fever bright, and then snatches up a data chip. He shoves it into Yesenia’s hands. “Throw it!”
“Captain,” Yesenia says, looking at the Leekylan sitting in the command chair with wide eyes. “I am so sorry for–”
“I don’t have all day,” the Captain says, iris-less eyes blinking slowly. “And, frankly, if this is something that’ll help your case, you want to do it after that physical exam.”
“Told you,” G’Rung hisses in her ear. G’Rung flaps feather hands in her direction. “Do it!”
Yesenia swallows and tosses the data chip back into the drawer it came from. Marsul darts forward, grabs it, and hands it to her. Yesenia does it again.
“And targets–!” G’Rung swoops down and takes off their shoes. “The wall–!”
Yesenia, unable to read the Captain’s face, decides to just go with it. She lobs G’Rung’s shoes at the wall, hitting the same spot each time.
When she’s done, she turns to the Captain, fidgeting nervously. At her sides, Marsul and G’Rung are practically vibrating with nerves and excitement.
The Captain considers her for a beat longer. “Your Science application was denied due to your inability to defend yourself,” he says. And then, before Yesenia’s heart can crash straight through the floor, he adds, “But, in this case, I believe that this skill more than makes up for your failure in sparring. Congratulations and welcome aboard.”
Yesenia gapes at him. “I– thank you, sir! But–”
“No buts!” G’Rung says, grapping her arm again. “Thanks, Captain, we’ll just be going.”
Marsul picks up the rear, closing the door before he can change his mind.