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The child didn't understand. She couldn't understand. She didn't know what kid of carnage she was going to cause. The cities leveled. The death toll. This child is from before all that. Pull the trigger. That's all it'll take. A better world. Just kill the innocent child before her innocence sheds like a snake. You put the weapon down. She's just so innocent. You fought for a second chance, not this. “Come on. I'll take care of you.”

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By accident, you've been forwarded the ship-wide warning message to any and all personnel who might encounter the human diplomat. It warns that showing teeth is a sign of greeting, amusement, pain, and anger. They must rely on other aspects like voice tone and pheromones to determine if there is any danger.

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It's more efficient magically to use a pocket dimension to carry a teleporter everywhere with you rather than teleport yourself with raw energy.

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Your performance review has some very odd criteria you've been graded on.

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“Do you mean to tell me... that all this?” He gestures around widely. “Was an accident?”

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Before you get married, you've each made a list of movies the other must see.

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He craned his neck so far back he ended up laying down to avoid falling. The most stars he had ever seen in one sky. He should be awed. He's mortified.

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Medically induced immortality was free with some caveats. Namely, in the event of humanity destruction, those left would be responsible for continuing the species. This meant multiple years worth of classes and training camps to learn everything from medical science to agriculture to smelting to mechanical engineering.

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You inherited the ability to see invisible things but you can't tell if what you're looking at is meant to be invisible because it looks completely normal to you.

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The doctor held the gun with shaky hands. The soldier stood nearby to talk them down. “Doc, I've been trying to get you to kill people for years. But you haven't. So go ahead. Ruin your winning streak.”

crisis-progress

My hands trembled, finger curled weakly around the trigger. I could not feel the metal on my skin, can barely feel the floor beneath me -- blood was rushing to my head, blackening my vision.

"Just let me go," I said, "Or I'll -- I'll --"

"Doc, I've been trying to get you to kill people for years," General Anderson shook out the cigarette packet, "But you haven't. So go ahead. Ruin your winning streak.”

She didn't even look at me, putting a cigarette between her teeth and lighting it. Out of the corner of my vision, I could see other soldiers, guns steadily trained on me, but they had been told to stand down.

"I won't do this anymore," I burst out. "I won't -- there are children we're hurting -- I can't --"

"Don't tell me you've grown a conscience now. You knew what you were signing."

"I didn't know we'd be doing this."

My mind, far as it may be gone, zoned in to the steady drip behind me. The pooling blood on the sheets, spilling over onto the floor. I thought, hysterically, maybe the soldiers will slip if I run. I knew I could not run.

I never meant -- I didn't kill them -- I had been instructed not to, and I simple couldn't do it even if I hadn't been. I never killed them and -- and god, was that even a mercy? How could I keep them alive to suffer. I -- I shook my head. No more.

"Alright Doc, are we done here?" Anderson asked, approaching me with her hands raised in a mockery of surrender.

"Yes," I said, "Yes, yes, yes. We're done now. We're done."

I turned the gun on myself.

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After much research, the alien decides it's best chance at being accepted by the humans is to make itself “friend shaped”.

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“You expect me to believe you?”

“Abso-fucking-luetly not. I expect you to check my sources and Then believe me.”

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The doctor held the gun with shaky hands. The soldier stood nearby to talk them down. “Doc, I've been trying to get you to kill people for years. But you haven't. So go ahead. Ruin your winning streak.”

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Pest Control Aliens show up and explain they've been hired for an extermination. Not humans, no no. Humans are native to Earth. Mosquitoes were an accidental infestation from a visiting embassy and they're here to fix the problem.

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The chef in this inn gets very grumpy when people don't eat his food but he uses ingredients people have never heard of. The foodie of your group makes a friend for life when they ask for the special of the day and clean their plate.

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“You think you know everything.” “Not at all. I know I know everything.”

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“Who are you praying to?” They laughed, tears rolling down their cheeks. “I don't even know.”

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