How to Professionally Conduct Oneself with Aliens - PREVIEW
Inspired by this post on tumblr. The aliens are different, though.
Summary-ish: Humans aren't the only ones that want to fuck. Just... y'know, aliens and humans have to go about it professionally while they hash out the nitty-gritty of integration. Which is why Marsa and Tiadzig need to explore their respective counterparts' cultures on intimacy and, yes, even reproduction. Totally. Yep. That's why.
x x x
Pronunciation Guide (since my naming conventions are akin to smashing a keyboard.)
Zaarekians - za-Ah-rek-e-ans - A slight lilt up on the second a, otherwise phonetic.
Tiadzig - tiAhd-zig - Again, a slight lilt up on the a.
Marsa - mar-sa or mar-za - I felt bad not adding her pronunciation, though it's pretty self-explanatory. lol If you want to be fancier, make the 's' more of a 'z' sound.
x x x
The revelation of aliens in the 2030s was, without a doubt, a blessing. For humans, at least. It was yet to be seen how Zaarekians would fare from the encounters. However, it made Earth’s nations button up their problems, overthrow problematic leaders, and try to move forward into the interstellar stage with their best foot forward.
Of course, that also meant humans with particular proclivities had to keep their mouth shut and behave. That had been made very clear when the international Department of Extraterrestrial Liaison was initiated. It was only by the blessing of sheer numbers that “monster fuckers” weren’t instantly denied entry.
One such human was Marsa, currently stuck in a room with her Zaarekian colleague, Tiadzig, for yet another shift at work.
At least it was a relatively large room, but they happened to work at the same large table. Around them, resources were piled up, both in printed and digital forms. Books lined the walls and shelves filled the rest of the floor. On the wall across from the entrance, two computer terminals sat, both with access to databases from Earth – or Terra, as Zaarekians called it – and Zaarek Prime.
Marsa had promised her supervisor she wouldn’t do or say anything weird to the Zaarekian, but it was so, so difficult to not ask questions. Potentially inappropriate questions.
As she staved off a stronger-then-ever slew of questions, she peeked up at Tiadzig from across the table.
All Zaarekians wore metal ‘shells’ of sorts. Not quite armor, but not quite not-armor. It was apparently a living part of their body, protecting a frame underneath – which came in array of colors – and some sort of ‘life essence fluid,’ which also came in an array of colors. From Marsa’s understanding and briefings, the fluid was apparently like their organs, nerves, and their brain, while the chitinous form – usually kept hidden – was their skeletal structure and further organs. The metal form, therefore, was akin to skin.
Over all that, they also still wore clothes. Marsa had seen Zaarekians wear flowing gown-like pieces, something like togas, and more restraining jumpsuits. In Tiadzig’s case, he often wore something like coveralls over a one-piece black jumpsuit.
They were like an organic robot with controlled liquid sloshing around that didn’t fall out of openings. They were utterly fascinating.
In Tiadzig’s case, this meant a silver shell with red liquid. A bit unnerving to a being that associated red liquid with blood, but he was rather stunning.
The Zaarekians who initially interacted with Terrans had taken more humanoid morph, or so they said. Something bipedal with two arms, two legs, and a cranial region. But there was another component to their form. Occasionally viewable in the slurry and between the cracks of their quasi-faux metal shell, Marsa glimpsed a chitinous form. She wasn’t sure if she should bring attention to it. Would it be an intergalactic equivalent of pointing out someone’s nip slip? Or was it better to just remain tight-lipped and ignore it?
They were all adults – something she knew for a fact after all the work she and Tiadzig had done – and they were working towards Terran-Zaarekian collaboration, so she opted for professional silence.
But by the stars, it didn’t help her curiosity occasionally became unnervingly supercharged. Most of that curiosity revolved around sex and fucking and intimacy, so her restraint was taking a damn toll.
They had won so much trust from the aliens, though. As the Zaarekians and Terrans continued to work together, the aliens allowed their morphs to change. More frequently, Marsa had seen quadrupedal morphs of land messengers or heavy-lifting morphs that required four to six arms rather than two. As it was, the Zaarekians seemed very flexible– No, too much innuendo. They seemed very versatile! Well, shit, that wasn’t any better.
Marsa ran a hand down her flushed faced, mentally berating her hormones for not obeying the platonic orders. It shouldn’t be that hard to not think about fucking her alien co-worker. Or how fucking said alien co-worker would logistically work. But she spent so long with him, poring over Terran and Zaarekian media and history, explaining and listening to explanations, highlighting etiquette that was second-nature to her while learning what Tiadzig found to be common sense.
Together, they were supposed to create educational information to aid Terran and Zaarekian relations, when the greater populaces began to interact. Pamphlets, guidelines, etiquette books, how-to manuals for interacting with each other without causing unforgivable conflict.
Through it all, Tiadzig had been a wonderful counterpart. Calmly explaining things in his somewhat gurgling voice, never flinching at her difficult questions. Neither humans nor Zaarekians held completely innocent histories, as it turned out. Though Zaarekians had different versions of sexism, racism, ableism, and the like to deal with, they also had a sordid past of interacting among other species. Though it seemed they had taken great pains to correct previous transgressions after an interstellar war with the Straux, a war that happened centuries before Terrans even pierced the space around Earth.
As it was, Tiadzig had given the subjects the gravitas they deserved and, occasionally, admitted he had to research something to be certain of the answer. Inevitably, he’d return the needed answer, whether it painted Zaarekians positively or negatively. Marsa returned the energy in kind.
Of course, her Zaarekian colleague noticed her huffing and puffing and fidgeting. “Are you feeling well, Marsa?”
x x x
Want to read more? Check out the first part on my Patreon!
Nothing raunchy. Yet. :3c
I love writing non-humans and humans exploring each other.
