Chosen
Engineer X Afab Reader - Posted a month ago on my Patreon! Enjoyy!
After the previous reports on how the species identified as Engineers -, also known as space jockeys, Mala'kaks, or even Ossians-, had a special connection with music, the next messages sent in hopes of establishing contact were filled with various clips of humans singing and dancing; implemented in the hopes of catching their creator’s attention.
Videos from all over the Earth made it to yet another Engineer military ship.
At first, the signal enraged them. Humans; their only successful experiment; the galaxy's child; Rotten, selfish, violent, and primitive.
The Captain's second in command, his Chief Officer, wanted to retaliate as soon as the signal reached their sensors, talking about how their species had been generous in letting them live for so long already. Still, something about the signal made the Captain curious.
Why would they reach out like this? With what intent? What could they want to say?
Gathering his crew, he played the message.
The first few seconds showed a family; it seemed; the grown males and females played different instruments as the children danced to the tune.
The crew and the Captain kept watching, with each Intro over; each other clip had different humans in it, each presenting their style of music, dancing, singing, smiling at whatever or whoever was recording them. “Culture” was the word plastered all over it; they knew what they were doing with the melodic tune they played throughout the video. But that wasn’t all. Clips of architects discussing plans of a building, followed by a timelapse of said building rising from the ground as several humans worked on it through seemly years, all in a couple of seconds. They saw an elderly-looking woman twirling her fingers holding long, fine needles in her hands, turning the simple thread into an intricate design, showcasing it proudly with a smile. Children hand-painted walls and then each other, laughing. None of the kids seemed to be related; none of them looked alike; maybe a school?
They played the videos over and over again for hours, for days. Analysing, focused, critical. They'd eye each other, whispering their thoughts as the video went on, some already had their opinions set in stone, but others had something akin to a smile as their favorite singer or dancer appeared on the screen one more time.
There was no message back. No response.
Until their ship came knocking on the Earth’s doors.
The ship landed close to where the message had originated from, a military base on the outskirts of a city. And hours later, while the Earth’s ‘representatives’ blabbered their welcomes, a massive crowd forming around them, the ship’s occupants had other intentions.The ship’s Captain lifted his hand, and all noise died down, and holograms formed on his palm, showing the frozen images from the clips they sent, a few from the hundreds featured in the video.
Male ballet dancer, Paris. Female Street dancer, Memphis. Female flutist, Venice. Male singer, New York. Female violinist, Coimbra. Female Belly Dancer, Tijuana. Female Kabuki dancer, Tokyo. Male drum player, Kinshasa. Female pottery artist- Sidney.
Confused about what these specific pictures meant, several translators were brought to their location alongside droids, trying to replicate their language. After ten minutes of struggling, and a very irritated Captain, finally, the message got across.
"I want these humans here, now."
The translators told their superiors what they demanded, not sure why they needed those specific people there, but after luring a dormant alien species out of their hiding spot in the galaxy, complying was the only option.
It took two days to get everyone from the list there. There were tents. Thousands of them set up around the ship, where the human military forces had quickly set up a barrier separating the civilians from the ship’s walls, as futile as it all seemed.
“Out of every fucking thing they could want, they want some singers and dancers. It’s so fucking stupid.”
“We set ourselves up for this one. We knew they liked hippies. They -are- the original hippies for crying out loud.”
“Pretty ballet dancers? Okay- a hot belly dancer? Sure. Now what the fuck do they want with a -pottery girl-?”
“Fuck if I know, Jared-” The two men argued as they reached the double doors that led outside again, the blinding light of the scorching sun fading as their eyes adjusted to it. The crowd cheered and booed as they pleased, two sides of each coin, even in this situation. The news feasted on the subject. “Human kidnapping?” “Human selection?” “Human sacrifice?”
At the top of the ship’s ramp stood the Captain and his crew, nine engineers in total, all waiting, stonefaced, and unmoving.
“Everyone here speaks English, right?” Said one of the men to the group of young adults gathered around them, the people they requested two days ago. After some nodding and yessing, he hums. “Great. You are not to say shit until we say so. These aliens are hostile until they show us otherwise. We don’t know why they requested your presence here specifically, though it has a tie to the videos of you we sent. You got instructed on how to act, so I’ll remind you: Stay the fuck still, stay the fuck quiet, and pray to whatever religion you follow that they won’t choose to fuck us up this time. Understood?” He doesn’t give any time for responding as the two men start walking to the gate, the group of people following behind them. The gates open, and they all follow to the base of the ramp, where two droids await.
“These are Adam and Eve, our translators. They have spent a limited time with our visitors and learned more or less a chicken scratch of their language.” The droids nod and turn forward again, facing the ramp.
The crowd’s noise dies away as the Captain takes the first step down the ramp, followed by his crew. Their walk was almost in sync as if they were droids themselves. It’s a long way down, each step building up more and more the tension in the air. They don’t reach the ground, stopping a little from the end of it, still keeping the higher ground.
The Captain speaks, and everyone listens attentively, even if they can’t understand him. His voice is husky, low, and firm. He didn’t leave room for questioning.
The droids nod and turn to their human counterparts. “The Captain informed us that the humans chosen here are to retire to their ship with them for a limited time of-”
“They want us to what-?!”
“Quiet. Proceed, Eve.”
The droid nods, “There are nine of them and nine of you. This would be akin to an exchange program but on the ship. They wish to learn more about us, but on their terms, sir.”
“I see…” The man sighs, rubbing his face as the other one groans, “Would they accept any negotiations on these terms?”
“Negative. Each human will be assigned a partner they are to stay with night and day. Partnerships are non-negotiable." Eve says.
Adam nods, "The Captain already chose the pairs.”
“So, we are to accept these terms?” The other man hissed. “Affirmative.” Said Adam. “The group is to part ways to the ship this instant.”
“But- what about clothes? Food? How are we to communicate with you guys or-, well, with them, at all?” One of the singers asks.
“Arrangements will be made throughout the day after you’ve retired to the ship,” Eve replies. “We are led to believe they don’t trust us with sending you inside with our equipment.”
“Well,” the first man sighs, “We don’t have much to do here.” he turns to the group again, “circumstances have changed, but the instructions haven’t. We have no room to negotiate your stay, but they are our guests as you are now also theirs.” he sighs harder. “Do not fuck up. Answer whatever questions they ask, and do not cause trouble. We’ll try to soften these terms and get to you faster, but until then, do not squirm in their grasp.” His tone is of warning, his eyes narrow and authoritative. He turns back to the droids, “tell the Captain we’re ready.”
The droids communicate their message, and the Captain nods, stepping down further and stopping a step or two before the ground. He opens his mouth, and the whole world seems to freeze again.
The droids nod and turn back to the group. “The Drum Player will be their navigator’s pair,” Eve says. The man nods shakily and steps forward, staring up at the aliens on the ramp. “But- which of them-?”
The Captain utters a word, and one of the engineers steps down the ramp to his side, shorter than the Captain by half a head. The navigator looks at the man and nods so briefly he wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t paying attention. “Go.” the man beside him hisses.
He gulps and starts walking past the droids, taking a deep breath at the foot of the ramp before taking his first step up. He walks up to the navigator and nods. The navigator nods to his Captain and begins walking up the ramp again, his human following in tow. They don’t stop near the others, walking up the ramp completely.
“Next up, the Violinist will be paired with their Weapons Specialist.” Says Adam. The girl trembles as she walks up and waits. The Captain calls, and the bulkiest engineer out of the bunch steps down the ramp, staring at her impassively. The girl whimpers, and it takes Adam’s gentle ushering to get her to move up the ramp.
“Who do you think will be paired with the Captain?”Whispers roam around the remaining group as the Captain announces more pairs.“The Flutist and the Kabuki Dancer will be paired with their Pilot and Engineer, respectively.”They step forward as the Captain calls his crew members to get them.
Four down. Five to go.
“The Singer and Street Dancer will be paired with their Biologist and Medic, respectively.”
“Do you think he’ll save himself for last?” asked the Belly Dancer; the Ballet dancer shrugs slightly.“The Belly Dancer will be paired with their Communication Officer.”“Guess that answers your question.” He says as she nods and walks up the ramp to meet her alien.
Leaving only the Captain and the Chief Officer still standing on the ramp.
The Captain utters the last two pairs, and Eve nods.“Last but not least, the Captain’s pair will be the Pottery Artist, leaving the Chief Officer with the Ballet Dancer.”The Ballet Dancer nods and walks up the ramp with his pair.
Leaving you to stare up at the Captain on the ramp.
