Cyrus was about to teach a Goblin how to be a captain. Which was funny, considering he’d learned everything he knew about command from the media he consumed.
Over the next few minutes, he explained to Daegnon what being a captain entailed—at least as far as he understood it.
His entire concept of leadership came from what he had seen or read over the years. He had always been a Trekkie, though he wasn’t one of those diehards who insisted one series was superior to the others. Instead, he eagerly took in everything—movies, TV shows, anime, podcasts, comic books, novels, and anything else he could get his hands on.
He definitely had his favorites, but he was always open to new interpretations, styles, and perspectives in his media consumption, giving him a wide array of knowledge to draw from.
After the incident in his youth, his life had gone from one of home and family to a series of clinical and behavioral institutions—a constant shuffle between hospitals and care facilities.
The frequent moves, combined with the stress of living alongside other mentally challenged teens, made fantasy media his sanctuary. It was the one thing that remained consistent, the outlet his brain used to cope with the instability of his life.
He wasn’t opposed to a good comedy or action flick, but his heart always belonged to the fantastical. Magic, spaceships, swords, phasers, superpowers—it didn’t matter. As long as it wasn’t rooted in reality, he was all in.
Mrs. Norris had once explained that his need for escapism was his brain’s way of coping. Coupled with his anxiety and desire for solitude, it formed the foundation of the agoraphobia he dealt with later in life. His subconscious was seeking out a different reality, one where the trauma of his past was just a distant memory—or had never happened at all.
Apparently, that was a natural stage of grief and part of the process of moving forward.
The moving forward part was the issue for Cyrus.
All that aside, it didn’t seem to matter much to Daegnon that Cyrus’s understanding of command structures came from his knowledge of sci-fi. The Goblin eagerly listened, learned, and seemed to embrace his new title.
Then, with a handshake—a gesture apparently uncommon among Goblins, which Cyrus had to demonstrate—they confirmed their roles and officially formed their alliance.
Extending his right hand, Cyrus explained, “It’s a handshake, a way of confirming an agreement.”
Daegnon’s brow ridge lifted inquisitively. Goblins didn’t have facial hair—at least not that Cyrus had seen—so it was strange watching the muscle beneath the brow move so distinctly.
Slowly, the Goblin extended his own hand, his gaze fixed on Cyrus, watching closely to see what he was supposed to do.
Cyrus chuckled and clasped the small, outstretched hand in his own.
The sensation was… strange. He wasn’t a big fan of physical contact to begin with, so he wasn’t the best judge, but the Goblin’s skin felt both rough and slightly oily at the same time. Then there was the matter of the fingers—one fewer than a human’s and jointed differently—which made the contours of the handshake distinctly alien.
Shaking another human’s hand had a certain familiar feel to it, but this was entirely different. Daegnon’s hand was smaller, thinner, the positioning of his joints subtly off from what Cyrus expected.
Still, he didn’t let any of this show, keeping his expression neutral as he gave the Goblin’s hand a firm squeeze and a light shake.
Daegnon, for his part, after a few tentative up-and-down motions, latched on firmly and eagerly joined in. Since Cyrus wasn’t the touchy type and Daegnon knew nothing of human customs, the Goblin kept going—shaking Cyrus’s hand with relentless enthusiasm.
So much so that when Cyrus released his grip and tried to gently pull away, Daegnon didn’t take the hint.
Up and down, up and down, his grin growing wider with every passing moment. Cyrus had no idea what joy the Goblin was getting from this, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment or risk offending the smaller green creature.
The handshake dragged on. Nearly a full minute passed, and Cyrus, unaccustomed to prolonged physical contact, felt his anxiety creeping upward. His skin prickled, the sensation of the Goblin’s hand overstaying its welcome. Finally, unable to take it anymore, he yanked his hand away—a little more forcefully than intended.
“Okay, that’s enough. Thanks, Daegnon,” Cyrus said, attempting to mask his discomfort but keeping his tone light, hoping to prevent any unintended offense. “Usually, three or four pumps is plenty. Any more than that, and people start wondering if you’re looking for something more than just a handshake.”
Daegnon gave him a puzzled look but nodded in understanding.
With their greeting completed and their arrangement set, they moved on to the next step—getting the Goblins up, awake, and working on repairs.
As they slowly stood and made their way to the nearest Goblin, the initial awkwardness between them had begun to fade. A sense of ease settled in, making their partnership feel more natural.
“Dis Prayda,” Daegnon said as they arrived at the table. “He good at talking, sneaking, and stick pointy things in people backs.”
Cyrus blinked. “Okay… those are interesting qualities,” he replied, eyeing the unconscious Goblin.
There wasn’t much that made Prayda stand out at first glance—at least not to Cyrus. He had the same green-hued skin, the long bat-like ears, and the blocky, webbed feet typical of his kind. But after a closer look, one detail did set him apart—his nose.
Unlike Daegnon’s rounder nose, which resembled the thick Goblin that had attacked him earlier, Prayda’s was long and tapered to an almost unnatural point. It gave him a sharp, calculating appearance, as if he was designed to sniff out trouble… or create it.
"Da Clan name him ‘Silver-Tongue.’ He go on trades to surface. He talk good to big people—dey buy anything," Daegnon continued.
"So… he’s good at communicating? That could be useful," Cyrus said, glancing toward where Hoshi’s Goblin-like face was displayed on the wall across from the platform they stood beside.
“Once the ship is fully operational, communication and trade will be essential. However, for now, his abilities may not be the most immediately useful," Hoshi said through the speakers, her tone neutral yet practical. "We can place him in stasis for now unless Daegnon believes he has other, more technical skills that would be of value.”
Cyrus turned back to Daegnon. “By chance, do you think he’d be any good at fixing things?” he asked, still uncertain about the extent of the repairs needed.
Daegnon rubbed his chin in a very human-like way. “Probably no. He never do good at digging. He do okay at catching grubs, though.”
Cyrus gave him a flat look. “Yeah… I don’t think grub-hunting is going to help us much here.”
With that settled, he exhaled and gestured toward the sleeping Goblin. “I say we leave him here. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to be much help with repairs, and it’s one less mouth to feed for now. That okay with you, Daegnon?”
Daegnon nodded but hesitated slightly. “He will stay sleep here?” he asked in return.
“Yes, the ship can keep him in stasis, which will slow his metabolism to an almost imperceptible rate," Hoshi informed them. "While I can’t be absolutely certain without proper scans and tests, a Goblin should be able to remain in stasis for several years before suffering any damage.”
“Okay, so Prayda will stay asleep, even though he might look dead," Cyrus said, glancing at the unconscious Goblin. "The ship will keep him alive—he’ll just be in such a deep sleep that it might not seem like he’s ever going to wake up." He turned to Daegnon. "But when we need him and his skills, we can bring him back like nothing happened. Make sense?”
“Yes, that is an accurate description,” Hoshi confirmed through the speakers. “He will be perfectly preserved until his skills are required.”
Daegnon frowned in thought, taking a long moment to consider everything that had been said. This was his first real decision as captain, and he didn’t want to make the wrong choice.
The image of his ancestor on the displays had been accurate, as far as he could tell. He had never seen Grubnash himself, but the spirit—AI, as Cyrus called it—had spoken with knowledge of his clan’s past. That alone made Daegnon believe that Hoshi and Cyrus were telling the truth and could be trusted as allies.
Beyond that, Cyrus’s explanation had made sense, and the human seemed genuine. From what Daegnon could tell, he had been truthful so far. They were all in the same precarious situation, so it stood to reason that Cyrus wouldn’t lie about their chances or capabilities when working together.
As for Prayda, letting him sleep seemed like the best choice. Daegnon had heard stories about people sleeping for years and waking up to find things different. When that happened, they just asked what they missed, and life went on. If Prayda woke up later and needed to know what happened, Daegnon could just tell him.
So long as he was safe, which Hoshi had guaranteed, there was no harm in letting him sleep. That made it the right decision.
"Yes, Prayda stay sleep, as long as you say he wake up," Daegnon told Cyrus, casting a glance at the image of Grubnash for reassurance.
“Okay, I promise that as long as we survive, he’ll be safe and will wake up when we need him. Is that good enough?” Cyrus asked, making a small X across his chest.
Daegnon didn’t understand the gesture, but figuring it was just a human thing, he snorted and nodded, satisfied.
They both watched as a semi-opaque layer of tangible light formed around Prayda and the platform he lay on. It expanded, wrapping around the entire structure and creating a softly glowing, blue-tinted tube.
A moment later, the inside of the tube filled with a slightly darker blue mist, giving it an almost frozen look. Then, with a low hum, a circular hole opened in the nearby wall—suspiciously close to the exact size of the glowing stasis field around the Goblin.
Daegnon’s eyes widened, and he instinctively lunged forward, alarm flashing across his face.
Cyrus reacted quickly, laying a firm hand on the Goblin’s shoulder. “It’s okay, this is the stasis part," he reassured him. "Think of it like he’s being frozen, and to wake him back up, we just have to melt the ice.”
Daegnon didn’t look fully convinced and still worried about what was happening, but he allowed himself to be held back. They watched as the tube floated into the opening in the wall. The wall then sealed shut, and all traces of Prayda and the platform he was lying upon were gone.
“You make it sound like we could see Prayda; this different,” Daegnon said, looking up at Cyrus.
"I am sorry, Daegnon. I did not fully elaborate on the procedure, but I did not disagree with the explanations given," Hoshi said through the speakers. This time, the image of Grubnash actually spoke the words, its mouth moving in sync with the voice, making it appear far more lifelike than before.
Daegnon scratched behind an ear—a tic he’d always had when frustrated. He wasn’t happy with how this had played out. He should have been told exactly what would happen, not just given vague assurances. But there was nothing he could do now—he had agreed.
‘If Prayda were here, he woulda figured out better what was gonna happen,’ he thought, the irony not lost on him.
Stolen novel; please report.
The AI had used big words again, and it took him a moment to process them. But the more he spoke with Cyrus and Hoshi, the easier it became. He was learning from them.
Finally, Daegnon spoke. "Just make sure you not forget promise, and dat Prayda okay in wall."
With a slight scowl, Daegnon walked to where the tube had disappeared into the wall and placed his hand over the spot. There was nothing there now—no hole, no break in the wall, nothing to show where Prayda’s body was stored.
He didn’t have any particular fondness for Prayda beyond the fact that he was one of the few Goblins here on the ship with him. But that alone was enough to make Daegnon worry about his safety—and whether he would ever wake up.
‘I expected this process would seem like magic to him,’ Hoshi said into Cyrus’s mind as they both observed Daegnon still standing by the wall. ‘Without the technical knowledge to understand stasis, his perception of events is based purely on observation, which leads to uncertainty. The language barrier further complicates the issue, limiting how well we can explain advanced concepts. However, I have observed steady cognitive adaptation. The SCANT is enhancing his ability to process complex information, though the rate of improvement will vary between individuals.’
Cyrus didn’t respond right away, watching as Daegnon’s fingers traced the seamless wall one last time before he finally turned away, his expression unreadable.
‘I think he’ll be okay,’ Cyrus finally said. ‘He knows what’s at stake—he understands we all need to do this correctly. I don’t know what kind of leader he was before, but you said the SCANT would help with that, right? Hopefully, he’ll become the leader they need. Making a tough call like this right away… that’s a good sign.’
Hoshi responded flatly. ‘The SCANT improves cognitive function, including problem-solving and decision-making. However, leadership is more than intelligence. It requires confidence, adaptability, and the ability to unite others. That cannot be artificially created—it must be developed through experience. The SCANT will do what it can to boost those areas, but it cannot generate experience’
Cyrus exhaled, running a hand through his hair. ‘Guess we’ll find out soon enough if he’s got it in him.’
‘Agreed.’
After a few moments, they moved to the next Goblin—the extra-wide one who had spearheaded the charge against Cyrus before they were all knocked out by the SCANT mist. This one was noticeably more muscular than the others, and while Cyrus was wary of whether he would still be a threat, he was also optimistic that the Goblin’s strength might make him useful for ship repairs.
“Dis one name Raknak. He very strong, has Ogre blood in him,” Daegnon said as he joined Hoshi and Cyrus at the table.
“Ogre blood?” Cyrus asked, though his focus remained on the opposite side of the table, where only he could see Hoshi standing.
As he listened, he noticed something new—the holographic image of Hoshi was speaking, and this time, its lips were moving in sync with the words. Previously, the face had remained still, but now, just like the digital Goblin projection Hoshi used to communicate with Daegnon, the AI’s image displayed real facial movement.
‘I am detecting some unusual anomalies in this one’s genetic makeup,’ Hoshi said directly into Cyrus’s mind, responding to the unspoken question forming in his thoughts. ‘The SCANT has not yet fully mapped Goblin DNA, but this one does possess a variance I cannot yet account for.’
Cyrus’s curiosity deepened as Hoshi continued. ‘Daegnon and the female also exhibit unique genetic variations, though theirs differ from the one found in Raknak. The remaining three Goblins share a more standardized genetic structure, closely resembling a baseline genome.’
Hoshi’s tone remained analytical, but Cyrus could sense the intrigue beneath the AI’s usual precision. Whatever the SCANT had detected, it was something worth noting.
Cyrus listened and understood, but another question nagged at him before he could move on.
‘Hoshi, why didn’t your lips move before now?’ he asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
‘I have been studying the facial movements of both species as you and Daegnon interacted and now feel confident that I can replicate them accurately. Prior to this, I lacked sufficient data to properly synchronize the image’s movements,’ Hoshi explained through their mental link. As she spoke, the lips of the holographic image moved fluidly, as though she were a real person standing before him.
‘Okay, but I’ve been talking way more than Daegnon. Why did you only enable the lip syncing just now—at the same time as the Goblin image?’ Cyrus asked, genuinely curious about the timing.
‘The answer is simple. Goblins have a much less complex facial muscle structure, making them less expressive. The timing was purely coincidental,’ Hoshi replied matter-of-factly.
‘Okay… I guess that’s good. Yay for humans?’ Cyrus said sarcastically.
There was a brief pause before Hoshi responded in a neutral tone, ‘I am not certain why you would celebrate this fact. It essentially means that humans are more difficult to understand, harder to heal, and much more challenging to emulate. If anything, the Goblins’ simplicity should be celebrated rather than human complexity.’
Cyrus just shook his head with a grin at Hoshi’s literal interpretation of his sarcasm.
Daegnon, unaware that Cyrus had been asking Hoshi about Ogre blood instead of him, answered as well. "His great-great dam was Ogre. His great-great sire caught her and brought her to burrow but kept her for himself only, didn’t share with rest of the clan," he explained.
It took a moment for Cyrus to fully process what Daegnon was saying. The word "dam" wasn’t one he was particularly familiar with.
"Wait… are you saying his great-grandmother was an Ogre? Is that what you meant by 'dam'?"
Daegnon gave Cyrus a confused look, as if he didn’t understand the term he'd just used. "What is ‘grait-granmuthr’?" he asked, the words coming out slightly garbled.
"Okay, like… the mother of your mother is your grandmother, and the mother of her mother would be your great-grandmother. Is that the lineage you're talking about?" Cyrus clarified.
Daegnon grinned, flashing a toothy smile that made it look like he was thinking perverted thoughts. "I hear about you big people and your families. Goblins not have that; we have clans. We use dam for breeding. Sometimes, if she good, she last for few generations. Like my Elf mom—she my mom, she Glix mom, she also my grand dam, which means she also my father mom."
Cyrus’s brain screeched to a halt. The words made sense individually, but together they shifted his entire worldview. His mind violently resisted comprehending what Daegnon was actually saying.
His body reacted before his brain could—he took a step back. Not intentionally. Just instinct.
"Wait… you mean… your father and your mom… but she was his… and then you… but also your grandpa…" He trailed off, his thoughts stuttered, flailing wildly for some kind of logical handhold before he completely lost grip.
His brain rejected it outright.
‘Nope. Nuh-uh. That information is not entering my worldview. I don’t want it.’
‘That makes more sense now,’ Hoshi calmly interjected into Cyrus’s rapidly deteriorating mind. ‘If Goblins use a common female for breeding, it would explain the similar traits I am seeing in their DNA. The X chromosome from the dam would be consistently passed down through multiple generations, while the Y chromosome from various males would introduce variance. This means that Daegnon and the female are siblings through the mother, which accounts for their shared genetic variant.’
‘This is simply another form of selective breeding. However, Goblins are the first species I have encountered that practice it as a natural mechanism for mutation and survival.’
That was the breaking point.
Cyrus’s brain locked up, his equilibrium wavering. His knees buckled as his body started tilting backward, completely unresponsive to his own attempts at control.
Before he could crash onto the floor, the floating medical bed zipped forward with a soft whoosh, gliding smoothly through the air. It bumped gently against the back of his legs, forcing his knees to bend, and he collapsed onto it with an abrupt thud.
A long silence followed.
Daegnon stared, uncomprehending, at what had just caused the human he’d been talking to to abruptly stop and nearly collapse.
Then, to Cyrus’s perception, two voices spoke at once.
‘Cyrus, is your system… functional?’ Hoshi’s voice echoed through his mind.
At the same time, the metallic voice of Grubnash’s image rang out in the room, "Cyrus, are you okay?"
Cyrus barely registered either. He just sat there, blinking at nothing, his entire system rebooting as his mind processed the information—then promptly locked it away. It was still there, tucked into the depths of his brain if or when he needed it, but it had been relegated to the same mental vault as his past—something he refused to think about.
As Cyrus sat there, staring blankly, a soft whoosh came from the display on the medical bed. A faint shimmer of light flickered across the surface, and then, emerging from the side panel, a hand formed—translucent, glowing, and shaped like a smooth, simplified version of a human’s.
It reached out and rested lightly on his shoulder.
The unexpected contact snapped him out of the mental void he had been slipping into.
Cyrus had seen the images on the displays around the room, had watched how the light used to create them seemed almost solid. Even the cover that encased Prayda had appeared to be made of some kind of solidified light. But until now, he hadn’t actually touched anything made from it.
Now, something made of that same semi-solid light was touching him.
Rather than feeling hot like a light bulb or even as warm as human skin, the touch was cool. It had substance, but not solidity—like someone had placed chilled pudding on his shoulder and then moved it around slightly.
The sensation was both fascinating and mildly disgusting at the same time.
Cyrus stared at the hand touching him, the AI’s words barely registering. His mind was still lagging, struggling to reboot after what had just been shoved into it.
Then—SMACK.
A sharp slap to his inner thigh jolted him back to reality. His whole body locked up, a sharp breath catching in his throat as a surge of alarm shot through him. He snapped his gaze to where a smallish green figure now stood far too close for comfort, grinning at him.
"Not you idea of good time, me guess?" Daegnon said, his toothy grin back in full force.
Cyrus instinctively flinched, his muscles tensing as his brain tried to process whether he had just been attacked or if this was some deeply unsettling Goblin greeting ritual. The slap had landed dangerously close to his Crudités—his eggplant and tomatoes.
"No… Uh, I can’t say that it is," he managed, his voice slightly strained as he fought the urge to scoot further away. "We definitely have very different societies."
Desperate to move past whatever that had been, Cyrus quickly redirected the conversation. "So… this guy, Raknak—do you think he’d be good at fixing things?"
Daegnon’s grin faded slightly, shifting into something more thoughtful—though a trace of mischief still lingered in his expression. "Yes, he strong and more smart than Khibi," he said, gesturing toward the next table over, where the smallest of the Goblins lay, just past Raknak.
At the next table lay a short, skinny Goblin. Even compared to the other two ‘normal’ Goblins, this one was diminutive. He was clad only in what looked like a dingy diaper, a small piece of well-used cloth tied around his waist, barely covering whatever might be underneath—something Cyrus was very much not interested in finding out. The Goblin was unremarkable in every other way, his nose even being the most normal of the bunch.
"Gooniz probably not be good at fix stuff either," Daegnon continued, gesturing to the platform on the other side of the room. "He okay, good at make these two do bad things, but I not think he be much help." He pointed to Raknak and Khibi when mentioning "these two."
Daegnon then gestured toward the female Goblin who had been next to Cyrus before he was set free. "Glix, she smart. She always make and fix things. She work hard and learn fast."
Cyrus blinked, his brain still trying to restart from its double-hit—first from learning way too much about Goblin breeding, and then from his near brush with the unexpected Goblin reach around.
"Okay… so Raknak and Glix should join us, and the other two stay sleeping for now?" he asked, still trying to verify everything through the haze of his scrambled thoughts.
"Okay… so Raknak and Glix should join us, and the other two stay sleeping for now?" he asked, still trying to verify everything through the haze of his scrambled thoughts.
Daegnon hesitated. Just for a second.
His ears flicked, his gaze drifting toward the other Goblins—toward the ones still unconscious, the ones still relying on him.
"I was burrow master," he muttered. "Not long though."
Cyrus waited. He could see it—the moment where Daegnon doubted himself. Where the weight of a real decision pressed down on him, rather than the fantasy of leadership.
The Goblin let out a sharp exhale, squared his shoulders, and rolled his neck with a loud crack, puffing out his chest as if forcing himself to be bigger than he felt.
Then, the decision was made. He nodded sharply, his posture shifting.
"Yep, dat my decision as captain."
And just like that, he stepped into the role.
Cyrus couldn’t help but smile. This Goblin was already seeming smarter. The SCANT was clearly working, helping to refine his thought process, but Daegnon also had an almost childlike quality that made him strangely endearing in the most unexpected way. The mix of growing intelligence and innocent bravado made for a bizarre but oddly lovable combination.
It wasn’t at all what Cyrus had expected when talking to a Goblin.
Then again, talking to a Goblin at all hadn’t exactly been on his life’s to-do list, so maybe his expectations weren’t the most reliable thing right now.
‘This is going to be a strange life now, isn’t it?’ Cyrus mused, mostly to himself.
Hoshi, however, responded as if he had asked them directly.
‘I am uncertain as to what your life entailed before, but based on the data I gathered about your planet, I believe your current circumstances will be both challenging and entertaining. I am certainly glad I was able to balance your brain’s chemistry as soon as I did; the imbalance would have made your dealings with these creatures much more difficult.’
He should have been panicking. Should have been overwhelmed. The knowledge that he was stranded in space, trapped on an ancient alien ship, with an AI that may or may not be manipulating him, surrounded by a species that, until a few hours ago, he hadn’t believed could exist…
So why wasn’t he more freaked out?
Then Hoshi’s words replayed in his mind and one part in particular settled in, hitting him like a nine volt battery on the tongue.
‘I am certainly glad I was able to balance your brain’s chemistry as soon as I did…’
Cyrus blinked.
"Wait, what?!"
