Though the vast expanse of space stood right there beyond his window, his eyes were focused on the grooves and irregularities in the metallic wall as he reminisced about the past. He missed his friends, missed Earth, and honestly he really just missed all the little things that came along with everything.

But it should all be worth it, he’d spend some years here floating into nothingness before he could then return and get his pay alongside a nice and early retirement, at least that was the promise. But he really wasn’t sure that was gonna be the case, for all he knew he and this “job” were both completely disposable, honestly why did he take this gamble?

His eyes darted from the wall to himself, sitting on the floor, realizing that passing the time was getting harder as each day came along, but he didn’t want to get lost in another train of thought. He got up, propping himself up with the bed behind him, letting a long stretch and groan out before laying on the bed, eyes getting lost on the details of the ceiling instead.

Alright, what had brought him here? Some sixty something years after moonlanding, if he recalled his training correctly, there had been some huge breakthrough in aerospace engineering, right… Since then humanity did what it does best and colonized a good chunk of space, because more is always better and it was fine either way because no one was being hurt, they were just desolate planets filled with opportunities for us and gahhh.

He couldn’t stand the propaganda, and yet he was here on behalf of the military, all because at the turn of the century they apparently made contact with some other life form and wanted to assert their superiority. So military spending went way up; and after a shitty layoff with no prospects of finding any other civilian job he just took the opportunity to aid in their “research”.

And now he was here, far away from all the things he cared about, doing some meaningless tasks, whilst the research funds were probably being directed to produce even more guns. It was not all that bad: despite all the ethics, he got to see some really cool planets up close as the ship orbited around them, scanning and registering them to a database. His input was always minimal which made him feel that the job was more about enduring the boredom than actually doing something. Which was good because he could enjoy the trip and laze around but also bad because he was almost certain that he never really had the fortitude needed for that in the first place.

It really didn’t help that he wasn’t allowed to bring almost anything, all he managed to bring was an ebook reader scrubbed of “any possible subversive literature” and an octopus plushie that he got as a joke to see how stringent they were which ended up being allowed on board. He got up from the bed, realizing he was laying on top of the poor mollusk before he fixed it up and muttered “Sorry Captain Otto.” As he set it down.

He took a deep breath and wondered if boredom was really the issue here as he approached the window, looking at the distant stars. He just felt lonely, he was in fact lonely, but feeling like it made it worse. He had felt like this before back on earth, but at least then he had his group chat to talk to, having a bunch of friends on different time zones and on planets with different day lengths meant that someone was always bound to be online and up to chat.

Damn it, he was reminiscing again, but what else was he to do? Besides things were way simpler back then, when aliens were a mere topic of speculation in their conversations, when the “alien fucker” friend wasn’t actually going out to be abducted in secrecy just to have a good time, and specially when it was just that singular friend. He knew the group was made up of freaks and weirdos, that was by design, but what bothered him was how quick they were to jump at that opportunity, to leave their skepticism behind.

He sighed, who was he to talk about that? Were those extraterrestrials any different from the army he had enlisted to? He couldn’t know. All they had shown of themselves up to now was just that they wanted to “Befriend humanity!” and “Assemble an alliance!”, but refused to show themselves. Even his few friends that moved in with these beings had refused to share much beyond how happy they were with their partners.

Was he overthinking it all? Probably. Was he gonna stop? For now, yes. He distanced himself from the window and went on to accomplish his daily duties, footsteps hitting the metal floor and echoing around the ship as he got into his cockpit, seeing the monochrome monitor blinking with the usual message:

Scan complete.
Data received.
Data revised.
Ok.
Proceed to the next coordinates.

He didn’t even bother sitting down, he just gave the confirmation to allow the ship to continue on its path as he spun around and headed towards the back of the ship as it picked up speed.

Crossing his room he reached the door and opened it to reveal the nicest part of the ship, only because it needed to be nicer than the rest, the greenhouse. Most of his actual work ended up happening here, tending to the plants, checking nutrients and pH, ensuring it all went well so he wouldn’t end up dying in the worst way possible out here. It was supposed to be a chore but being the only meaningful thing he got to do it ended up being a meditative moment for him, allowing for his usual worries to be replaced.

During this moment of peace and labour he realized he had started whistling a tune, though this environment did a good job at keeping the sound constrained instead of bouncing against the metal carapace of the ship. He moved along, checking the growth of some lettuces, his mouth continuing the melody, had he made it up or was it something he knew? It seemed so familiar so it was probably the latter; he forgot about the vegetables as he started focusing on the music itself, playing and replaying different parts trying to get it. 

A triumphant but melancholic sound, a win with a bitter taste announced by a sax. A remark from another age, something close to a century separated him from the song and yet he knew it. He could remember when he first listened to it and the moment he realized when it had been released the bewilderment at the fact that despite the differences in time, place and even culture that it was just as good as what they had now. It made him wonder what else had been left to rot and be forgotten and why other things were chosen to be praised and preserved in its stead.

Overkill, that was the name of the song, which also described how he felt about his presence in this mission, safe for the plants, but they probably wouldn’t also be here if they had done something remote or automated like they should have. He got up and left the greenhouse, considering his work with the greens done, heading back to his room, the window portraying new celestial bodies. The ship had arrived and was doing its job as it orbited whilst he pondered once again the purpose of his job, or rather his own purpose.

His thoughts mixed with the melody and the lyrics he tried to remember, what wouldn’t he give to be back on solid ground listening to it right now? To not be alone senselessly piloting this shell around? Hell he wasn’t even a pilot most of the time, it was all automatic, did he matter at all? Through this very window he had seen many different ships fly by, unsure if they were human designs or not, afraid of what an encounter with one would result in. But it never happened. He was never even noticed, not attacked, not signaled to, not even acknowledged in comms, not that he tried to partake in them. His ship wasn’t even supposed to be stealthy in any manner. Was he really all that insignificant, truly a grain of sand amidst the universe?

A pitiful dot on the evergrowing chart of everything, a dot just like the many others on that vast expanse beyond the window? One that cast no light but rather reflected what was given, one with a negligible gravitational pull, one so small as to remain unseen? He was almost clinging to the window, searching for a singular dot, one just like himself, just to prove that he could be seen, looking for a blessing, a miracle, a shooting star. And he found it, a small speck, floating seemingly aimlessly, away from the system.

He darted to the front of the ship, disengaging the autopilot and realizing that would probably get logged somewhere and he’d have to come up with an excuse later but now what mattered was reaching that fleeting hope. He steered the ship away from its previous objective and aimed it towards the insignificant, others would have missed it, but he saw it, he wasn’t going to let it pass. The distance was closing steadily, he could see now it was a small vessel, way smaller than his ship or any other he knew of, could it be an escape pod? It seemed a bit charred, a bad sign, but he wouldn’t stop now.

Eventually he got close enough that he could let the ship assume control to engage the pod and align its portside and the airlock with it. He hadn’t been much to that side of the ship today, he’d been in the kitchen to eat when he woke up but he forgot to go and get some more food with all the things in his head and he’d been to the bathroom once, maybe twice (he realised now he could use with a bath or at least washing his hands after his work with the plants.).

He was a bit nervous, fingers shaking, when he entered the kitchen, headed towards the stairs to the lower part of the ship. He called it the maintenance floor, the only reason for him to be there was if something wasn’t functioning properly and needed some fixing: it was the functional part of the ship and as such didn’t spare much in comfort or beauty, not that the upper floor did but it was way better compared to this. And now he stood here, in this grungy space, in front of the airlock, waiting expectantly with a sinking feeling in his gut telling him that maybe he should’ve thought this all through.

***

She was shocked, things had gone awfully wrong, unexplainably so, her tendrils coiled and rubbed against one another trying to soothe her despite the memories of the flames. She had been lucky, it all had spread way too quickly, even the pod had been damaged, thankfully not enough to compromise her survival; and now she waited, hoping that she’d be rescued in time.

The vessel slowly came to a halt. Why? She started to tense again, had she landed, hit something? It wouldn’t have been such a smooth stop, was it someone? Who? They hadn’t been able to send a distress signal… Soon the pod was whirring and trembling, signs of a tractor beam in action, she was being rescued… She hoped.

She faced the hatch, soon it would open to reveal someone, something, she had no way to know what, she couldn’t prepare herself to assume any form, she had to be ready to do it as quickly as possible as soon as she knew. The ships had engaged, she could hear the airlock hissing.

***

“Are you okay?” He said as soon as the door opened, he wasn’t even sure if they would understand him, but he had settled on it, he would make sure they were well even if he felt scared and uncertain. Then he saw a mass of conjoined tentacles swirling and interlacing against one another, shaping into something else, humanoid but still alien, foreign, standing a bit taller than him now.

“Uh… I am, yes. Thanks for asking.” He could see he had picked right, their expression having shifted from a smug sense of confidence to a more considerate and relaxed state before they promptly added: “I- We have been studying your languages.”

“Great! That's… great.” He realised that even kindness would have a hard time cutting through the tension, they both stood awkwardly, unsure of how to engage their enemy, could they even be considered that? He gave it a shot “Sowhatsyourname?”

They let out a little giggle “What was that?”

“What’s your…” He gestured pointing back and forth between them trying to get the word to crawl out of his lips again “Name!”

“Oh! I’m Malva, I’m what you’d call female I guess.” Right, now it was his turn and he felt it was considerably harder to say it than he’d imagined. These last lonely months he had been nothing more than himself, he just was, but now he had a name, he had a body, he was perceived beyond himself.

“Well, I’m Mike… I’m a guy… Would you like to come in?” He noticed his arms were stiff and hanging awkwardly at his sides, he went to cross his arms before noticing it could look a bit uninviting, and his hands were still dirty, so he ended up mixing everything into a weird and embarrassing ‘come on in’ motion.

She stepped into the ship, looking around curiously; he stood at her side trying to follow her gaze around this room that he’d been in a few times and never bothered to analyze in any manner “This is just a maintenance room, what really matters is up the stairs.” She gave a silent nod.

As they climbed the steps he worried about her silence now, was she really just taking everything in or was she taking notes? Preparing for a take over? Of course not, she had just been caught in a shitty situation and if anything she was at his mercy, it was fine, his head just hadn’t been in the right place today. He just wanted to take a deep breath and run his hands over his face but even that wasn’t possible right now.

Into the kitchen now, he realized that it would be better, though maybe rude, to let her wander around the ship at her pace, he wouldn’t have the patience for that anyway, so he excused himself to the bathroom, finally getting rid of the dirt in his hands and taking a second to wash his face and take everything in. Mike saw himself in the mirror, he certainly wasn’t alone anymore but this companionship was at the least dubious, could he trust her? Hell, could they trust each other?

Malva heard the door opening, she was sat at a bed, holding a little textile critter, it resembled her species a bit, she looked at it and at the stars, hearing the footsteps on the other side of the ship getting louder, eventually Mike appeared in the doorway: “So that's whe- give me that.”

She calmly handed it to him, hiding her worry that she’d angered him. Noticing he got a bit spurred up he quickly steadied himself, ”Sorry, it’s… Don’t mess with my things without me giving an ok first, I’m a bit particular about what's mine.”

“Oh no, I’m the one who should be sorry for meddling, I can see that you’re a bit attached to it, I was just curious about what that is or represents.” He set Otto back on his bed, seeing how her eyes followed it, shining.

“I’m not attached, he’s just Otto, Captain Otto, it's a plushie.” He could see by the look in her face that his explanation had just made things more confusing. “Well, he’s not actually a captain, I think you could notice that he isn’t very alive. And a plushie is like, a… Huggable? Fabric version of, well it could be many things… But this one is based on an octopus, they live on- lived on the sea, they’re smart and a bit weird, I guess…”

Malva seemed to understand this deeper explanation but that look of confusion still hung on her face, “Why don’t they live on the sea anymore?”

“Well, mostly due to pollution.” He himself got a bit dazzled on why that's what had bothered her but he tried to give a satisfactory answer, “There probably are some of them that still live there, it's more a matter that we haven’t seen them in quite some time, but you can find them in aquariums or private collections if you can afford it. I think there is a luxury company that breeds them or something like that.”

Mike realized that maybe he was going on for longer than he should, and that the expression she carried was probably one of terror and not confusion, and the weight in her voice just confirmed it, “Why!? You love them! You cherish them so much as to bring them near to your heart; going out of your way to be able to hug them! And you destroy their homes? Turn them into luxury goods? Do you fucking see why we’re at war?” her tentacles were shivering, radiating pure anger as her humanoid façade unravelled into a screaming, jolting mass, reminding him of what she was and what he wasn’t. 

***

White tiles. A sense of hollowness. Water running down his skin, feeling like it slid off it without ever making contact rather than touching it. There was nothing and there was him in the middle of it. Water running down his skin. Water running down his skin, it wasn’t really him was it? Couldn’t it be water running down his body, no, once again. Should be water running down him, why even here all of it pertained to a matter of possessions? And why did it only bother him now?

He turned the shower off, grabbing the towel and noticing how hot it must have been for him to be so red now. He dried himself, still thinking, he wasn’t red, his skin was red. He couldn’t really let go of the use of possessives but it seemed weird to use them now. Wasn’t his skin effectively him in a way? Was it really okay to conflate being, or maybe an extension to being, with a matter of ownership? Was she getting into his head with her apparent moral superiority or had his skepticism never really been enough?

Standing up Mike caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror once again, now noticing the stubble on his face, he’d forgot to shave today, he’d been through a lot, probably his roughest day since launch even ignoring the crazy circumstances, he couldn’t really blame himself, his head had been so full of course he’d forget it, even now everything was seemingly going so fast that maybe all he really needed was to sleep and hope that tomorrow would be a bit more calm.

He stepped into the kitchen getting some chills, feeling that what happened some hours earlier could happen again now. Getting into the cockpit he realised that after all that happened he hadn’t set the ship to return to the previous objective and they had just been wandering around since the rescue, he wasn’t going to change that now. Opening the door to his room and this time his bed was empty, Malva had seen and preferred to be with the plants in the hydroponics room; he hadn’t objected.

He just got in his bed, under the covers, closed his eyes, and slept profoundly… No thoughts about all that happened today… Well, maybe after facing the other side he would sleep well… But it just made it all worse, now his worries were set on his future, what would happen after all of this? What would be of him? What would be of Malva? And sleep soon was forgotten to give place to speculation.

Once again eyes on the ceiling, now in a completely new situation, hugging Captain Otto against his chest. First, what would happen when he got back? He was certain that the odd ship activity would already have been logged somehow and sent over, but would anyone actually care enough to notice? Couldn’t he come out with an excuse, say that there was an unidentified ship passing by and he had to hide (which was only a half lie)? At best he’d probably have some of his pay docked, and at worst… Well, better not to think about it.

But of course even that logic was flawed because he had Malva aboard his ship (would the airlock log someone boarding the vessel?), which meant that he couldn’t really return without risking both of their lives (though she would probably end up getting the short end of the stick). So the next best option was letting her off at her planet, which quickly revealed itself to be only the second worst option, the military would get the coordinates and he would get charged with treason (in the best case scenario), maybe they could approach one of her species’ ship, and the same flaws sparked up again and now he realised he was forgetting about himself.

Would they really let him go? He would be doing a good deed and they would probably retribute it but… What if they didn’t? What if they just decided to abduct him, there just wasn’t much he could do, hell, if Malva decided to fight him here he would end up losing nine times out of ten. Which meant he didn’t really have any reason to worry, did he? She trusted him, she argued and yelled at him because she trusted that he was reasonable. But did he trust her beyond inviting her in? Did he trust her like any other human being- realization hit him.

She wasn’t human, her species wasn’t human, they shared none of their culture or societal structure over however many years they spent existing together in the same universe, and yet he was putting the same expectations on them as he put on the people he knew. She had shown to care even for a species she never even heard of, she trusted him from the beginning even though she knew how humans behaved. Maybe he could extend that hand to them too.

He wouldn’t be able to sleep for now, he knew this, all these scenarios would just keep playing in his head, portraying different outcomes at each little step. Maybe he could share these worries (and his personal breakthrough) with Malva, that way he’d get them out of their head and possibly also find that he isn’t alone and overthinking the situation. Then he would be able to sleep on his comfy and warm bed.

But to get there he had to get up from said bed, setting down Otto so he would look over him as he went to the door to the greenhouse. It felt a bit silly, but he felt it helped a bit with easing his fears as he stood before the door and prepared to knock. His knuckles rested against the door as he prepared, he thought back to when he was a kid having nightmares, wanting to wake up his mom but not wanting to be a nuisance, he looked back to Otto just as he did when he would fool around with his friends, searching for some encouragement right before doing something that would get them in trouble. He felt a little better.

He knocked and Malva quickly replied “Come on in, I’m awake.” It seemed like she also hadn’t slept yet, he turned the handle and was hit by the warm humid air that clung to his face and body as he stepped in, realising he had never been in this room in the dark, during the rest period, “Can’t sleep?”

Mike nodded, letting a brief silence settle as he thought out his words, “Honestly my day was a complete mess…” Once again the events played in his head, “And… Well, yours was probably even worse than mine.”

“It’s not a competition.” She stated plainly, playing with the leaves of a growing head of lettuce “You don’t have to pretend your pain is lesser just because I’m hurt too.”

Mike was a bit taken back, it was not the answer he expected but maybe his actual mistake was creating expectations, so he started speaking what came to his mind trying to avoid creating them, “Okay… I was thinking about what happened and the fact you’re here and I was trying to come up with a way where we can both return to our lives without them turning upside down and I just couldn’t sleep because of it and because I wanted to know why do you even trust me?”

She waited for him to recover his breath after the little rant as she changed her composure a bit, getting more into the conversation as if she knew where it was headed, “You didn’t give me any reason to not trust you. Simple as.”

“But weren’t you worried? Only rich people and the military fare through space, if they got to you they’d want you dead, or as a research subject.” He was having a hard time wrapping his head around how she viewed things.

“Worried, yes, not about you though.” She started simple, hoping to enlighten him on her perspective, “From what I heard about them neither of those would have cared enough to rescue an escape pod that they didn’t receive a distress signal from.”

Mike realised that maybe that had been a bit reckless of him, but before he could say something she continued, “Much less to welcome the pod tripulant while being unarmed and asking about their well being.” He got a bit red noticing the mistakes he had made and she proceeded, the pauses only existing to give him time to process it all, “They also certainly wouldn’t have let said ‘refugee’ roam around their ship freely, nor would they have allowed them to yell at them.”

Holy hell, maybe he wasn’t cut out for this, had his training not been enough or was it him who had paid no attention to it? He couldn’t hide the look of realisation that he had let the shit hit the fan and miraculously the room remained clean.

“Yes, Mike, it was that bad.” She managed to say it without condescension, “But it showed me that I could trust you, if not because you trust me then because you at least care about my life.”

“Or because I’m completely incompetent, I’m harmless really!” He wanted to lash out, of course he was more angry at himself than at her but he couldn’t help but imagine the mockery that would come from that mimesis of a mouth, he was reading between the lines and it was all clear to him.

“Were you that incompetent we wouldn’t be here to hear you say that.” The defusal was quick, Mike was starting to feel as if he’d been chasing after his tail the whole day, “What I don’t get is your species’ insistence on denying trust to others or pretending that you don’t care.”

Mike sparked up quickly “Yes, right! That’s kinda related to what I came to talk about.” He approached her, his eyes now a tad more accustomed to the darkness of the room, “As I said, I was thinking about how we could get this over with, and I thought about dropping you at your planet or some other ship and life would follow as if nothing happened.” He indicated that he wasn’t done yet “BUT, I was afraid that you’d end up abducting me, and then I realised that that was only the case because I was viewing you through the lens of my culture and thus I put no trust in you.” He finished, expecting some kind of agreement or praise in his conclusion, none came.

“What do you mean ‘as if nothing happened’?” He couldn’t have expected her to hitch on that part, “Is that how you deal with your problems? As soon as they are out of sight you forget them, pretend they never existed, do you ever reflect on them?” Mike could only think to her spurring up about the octopi, had he just killed one in front of her without noticing? “Something has happened, it has affected you and will continue to, do you forget your friends as soon as you’re distant?”

He felt a cold pang on his stomach, it spread quickly, he noticed that he could be shivering in a room this warm if he wasn’t holding himself. He tensed up, jaw clenching and a thousand ton weight trying to pull his eyelids together, he could cry now if only he let himself. He strained to speak empty words with a hoarse voice “i wish i did…”

“Oh no… Don’t say that, come here.” The hurt he expected to hear in his voice instead came in hers, extending an inviting tendril towards him, which he hesitantly held hoping some comfort would come as she pulled him closer, allowing him a moment of silence to adapt to this proximity, feeling the heat of her body but without the touch, “How long has it been?”

“Um… Six months… Half a year, uhh I don’t know… a long time.” He said awkwardly as he figured out mid explanation that maybe those units meant nothing to her.

“Don’t bother with explaining things to me, say only what you need to say, I’m here to listen.” He took a deep breath nodding in understanding “And how do you feel about that?”
“I miss them… Hanging out… Just… Being together, knowing that I could talk to them if I ever felt like this.” His tiredness started to show in the way he spoke along with the shake in his voice from the tears he held back. “Honestly? I-I think what I miss most was the physical contact. Fuck… I sound so stupid but I’d give anything for just a simple handshake.” and the dam broke.

He was sobbing in front of her, hands in face as he struggled to breathe through sorrowful moans. Through the space between his fingers he could see Malva moving, or rather shifting, tendrils becoming more sparse, he could now see parts of the room behind her through the entwined mass, but he didn’t really care. Soon enough something touched his back, many somethings, the tentacles pulling him closer against her, from all directions, from head to toe.

It was what he needed, it was closeness, it was contact, it was honest, it was a hug. He tried to remember the last time he felt like this, embraced, welcome, warm, it had been longer than six months since he’d hugged any of his friends, even longer if he considered a big group hug they did that had left him just like this. His tears now flowed not only with the weight he carried but also with the relief of letting some of it go, water diluting them together and running down his face.

She felt a bit bad, she hadn’t intended to land a strike on such a vulnerable topic, she had expected it to be more of a nudge but she was also glad, she also was in need of something like this, engulfing him completely, tendrils feeling every detail of where they touched him, she wanted to let them explore but for now they needed to remain quiet, giving him space.

“It’s not stupid to yearn even for a handshake, sometimes things are rough… Things have been rough for both of us.” She said trying to avoid letting that possibility hang around his mind. She wanted to relate to him, show that this feeling was way more universal than he imagined. They stood there for a bit, Mike cried as Malva embraced him and pondered deeply, trying to reconcile with what she felt too.

Eventually she noticed he had calmed down, only some occasional hiccups remained, but he had said nothing, made no attempt to leave, “Mike, you’re almost sleeping there, do you want to head back to your room?”

He shifted a bit against her embrace before his weak voice announced his thoughts “I could sleep here…” it was probably selfish, yes, but he just felt like being honest; though he felt a little sad for Captain Otto, who was staring at the door with no idea of what was going on inside.

“Trust me that much?” Malva quipped, buying some time to improvise with the unexpected answer, “You can. If that's what you want.” She could feel him settling and getting more comfortable, answering with his actions, and decided to relax a bit too, letting her tendrils massage him slowly, realising that she also wanted this and quickly remembering she had something to say before she got too comfortable, “Could I finish our conversation? You can just listen if you want to, I don’t think there will be much to answer.”

She heard him letting out a dreamy “Mhm” and added “Just don’t fall asleep yet.” She took some time before commencing, “I know you’re capable of change, you seem to be skeptical, you’ve listened to me then, and you’re listening now.” She felt this preface was needed, she was going to go all in, “So I need to tell you that we both know that what you said about your distrust of humans being based on your culture is not true. Culture is not the problem, and you know what is.”
“Propaganda is a dangerous thing, don’t you think?” Malva now truly began, a rogue tendril slithering up and playing with his hair. “It’s almost like a disease, it knows it needs its host, so it treads carefully, never striking the core.”

“It gives you leeway, you think you’re in control: your ideas are yours and the propaganda is blatant, how could it fool you? That's where the problem lies though, it already did get to you. By starting small, with only a few suggestions.” Her voice then switched to a whisper "Maybe that specific cause isn’t worth fighting for, you’d be better off putting your efforts in some broader and more consolidated one wouldn’t you? Every win is a win right? Even the ones that taste like bitter defeat.”

“Every suggestion is a step further into a path of learned ignorance. But I don’t have to tell you that, you know it all too well, you’ve gazed down that stairway and you saw what it held, you were never fooled to begin with, always alert and keen to not let the suggestions get to you and bring you deeper and deeper. But…” She let the word hang in the air for a while, giving them both some time to process it all. “You weren’t always that way, you couldn’t have been. As a kid you couldn’t have expected all of that, a whole reality building itself through those murky lenses, and it still has some hooks on you, and you are willing to get rid of them. I saw it in your eyes when we talked about the octopus, you could see that it was wrong but it just felt like normality.”

He remained calm and quiet in Malva’s embrace, all that she had said either made some sense to him, or were things he had wondered or worried about before. He felt right in having started to trust her, especially given that she had trusted him from the beginning. And he didn’t feel like talking, she said it wasn’t needed, he was tired, so he just shifted a bit between the coils and let her finish her explanation.

“I want to help you. My species wants to help yours. I’ve seen the love you carry, and I know that you care about other people, other animals, other planets; your own planet. But that little barrier stops you; the propaganda. I just want to see you be able to finally appreciate it all without those lenses.” She let another pause settle between them, he was very quiet, she wondered if he was getting close to the rest he had desired so much, yet she continued, daring to keep him from that peace only a little bit longer, “We don’t do that, you know?” Mike couldn’t see it, but a sly smirk grew on Malva’s ‘face’, it didn’t matter though, he would get to see that look many times over in his future. “But even if we did… It wouldn’t matter, would it? After all, you seem to be immune to propaganda.”