Risen: Shatterverse

Their Plan + Our Plan = New Plan

As expected, the first wave of survivors came in torn up and beaten, sorely pressed by their metallic conquerors. A cadaverously thin and angular humanoid species with an approximate height and general proportion to humans, the first thing that Tate thought of when he saw them was the species from Robert Heinlein's 'Starship Troopers', the Skinnies. Then one of them was staggering towards him with its strange, rolling gait, its clothing tattered and spattered with green-blue color that looked an awful lot like blood, and he noticed that their knees bent backward instead of forward. 'Definitely not human,' he thought.

Yet the gesture it made, with three fingered hands held upwards, was unmistakable as a plea even as the gibberish that poured from its slash of a mouth didn't resemble any language he was familiar with.

"This is Consul Pret," announced the psyren that silently floated a pace behind the creature, speaking firmly so as to be heard over Pret's babble. Tate could also sense her psycho-kinetic abilities were online in case she needed to restrain the frantic alien.

"They were in charge of this city as part of the Lansik Conglomerate, their world government. They are begging you to help save as many of their people as possible."

Flipping up his suit's visor, Tate pasted on a reassuring smile and nodded.

"Let the Consul know that is our primary intent," he said, keeping his eyes on the alien, which had staggered to a halt a couple paces away from where he was standing. "And what's with the 'they' and 'their', lieutenant? Am I speaking to a male or a female here?"

"Sorry, sir, but this species doesn't have binary sexes like humans do. So Pret is neither male nor female. It is ... something else."

"Well, that'll make figurin' out which toilet to direct them to, a bit of a frellin' challenge," Grint muttered from where he stood just behind Tate.

"Assuming they use one," Tate quickly countered over his shoulder before focusing back on Pret. At least they seemed to understand the concept of an individual and weren't cells in a hive mind or something like that. Or so he hoped.

"Consul Pret, we will do our best to get as many of your people to safety as is physically possible, but I must know if your government will be able to help us in the evacuation. Do you have emergency services? Or a military?"

At the questions, Pret looked wide-eyed with its horizontal-slit pupilled eyes at first Tate, then back over at the psyren, before returning to stare at Tate.

"It doesn't understand the terms you are using," the psyren revealed when Tate shot her a quick questioning look. "According to their genetic memory, this is the first time their species has experienced violence."

"Im-frellin'-possible!" Grint snorted in disbelief. "Sentients that consider themselves individuals will always fight over resources and space. And fighting means violence."

The psyren favored the dorvali avatar with a quick look before turning back to Tate.

"Not to dispute your assertion, sir, but these particular sentients truly believe that they haven't fought over anything," she replied. "Likely because they began their evolution as plants."

Both Tate and Grint found themselves looking over at Pret with almost identical looks of astonishment.

"Plants?" Grint repeated. "But they don't look a thing like." Abruptly he frowned. "Maybe if we toss them around in a bowl with some dressing and crunchy bits ..."

"As you were, Master Walker," Tate growled with a sharp, chopping motion of his hand as he pushed his own astonishment out of the way. "It doesn't matter what or where. What matters is ..."