Chapter Text
Adrian has absolutely zero idea what this soft-fleshed creature needs for survival. Or for comfort. They search endlessly for anything that might be palatable and non-toxic for the lengthy creature currently curled up in a mess of soft blankets and scraps. Many doctors circled it for the first few days, patching up its many leaking wounds with terrified xenonite-covered claws. Any mistake could potentially kill them if they messed up. Throughout the entire transfer process and subsequent surgeries, it remained in a state of either unconsciousness or delirium brought on by its increased temperature.
“Soft-fleshed beings are notoriously bad at regulating heat, as they do so through the flesh touching the air. This one seems to lack thick fur, so it is even worse,” the doctor explains to a far too nervous Adrian, who works on analyzing some food scraps recovered from the exploration team. Many soft-flesh biologists wrangle their way into the research facility, desperate to get their claws on an alien. A real-life, alive alien. Adrian was a chemist and climate enthusiast. They studied Erid, its climate, and all the strange things that made it tick. They technically have no reason to remain so close to the alien at this point.
They also formed a poorly maintained emotional attachment to the blood-soaked—and they now know the moon was covered in blood, similar to the alien itself. An entire moon covered in the blood of a creature that was clinging to life in the control room connected to Adrian's lab. When they get too stressed thinking about their mate, they inevitably find themselves researching different chemical compounds the alien needed to survive.
This is what they're good at. They're a chemist and a climate scientist. They will make the life-sustaining chemical and eventually a biodome that would allow it to live peacefully and happily. They will work until they physically can't to ensure this poor thing survives because it's all they can do.
They manage to get about 4 of the compounds finished and spun into an odd mixture. It might potentially kill it, or it might finally be the thing to nurse it back to health. Whatever the baseline may be. Adrian only stops agonizing over the compounds when they get alerts. They rush over to find the alien standing awkwardly in the xenonite room, head on a swivel, and noises spilling from its strange skin flaps. Mouth. Assumedly anyways.
There's a doctor already pulling on one of their protective suits and standing near the air lock.
“I want to come inside as well,” Adrian asks gently, rocking side to side nervously as they tend to when they're copying their mate. The realization makes them become frightfully still.
“Chemist Adrian, the creature might be dangerous; it's already displayed aggression when approached too quickly.”
“Then I shall move slowly,” Adrian shoots back, and after a long moment, they gesture to a suit. Adrian eagerly pulls on the suit, refusing any offered help. It's awkward and pinches around their joints uncomfortably, but they won't let that bother them. Eventually, they manage and shuffle through the entire airlock and decontamination process. Supposedly, even the slightest presence of their atmosphere has been enough to trigger extreme leaking from the creature.
“Mɥo,s ʇɥǝɹǝ¿” The creature snarls, baring its mildly concerning face bones, backing up until it presses against the far wall.
“Safe, soft flesh specialist and doctor, here, can you hear?” The doctor taps the floor through the xenonite suit, and the creature jerks its entire body in their general vicinity. Adrian silently observes the thing more closely and notices large, spherical organs embedded in its face. It was a feature many soft-fleshed beings possessed to perceive the world in a way entirely different from Eridians.
Adrian immediately taps the wall until they get a good listen to the room around them. Not a single sign of the crystals, any creature with such electromagnetic sensory organs lived by. No way for it to perceive the world around it except for its lesser listening sense.
Adrian lowers their body in mild irritation. How has not a single Eridian figured out the problem? Across the room, the little creature curled up further, strange fluid leaking from its electromagnetic sensory organs.
“I pouʇ ʞuoʍ ɐuʎʇɥᴉuƃ˙ פops' lǝɐʌǝ ɯǝ ɐlouǝ. Please, please, please–” Adrian silently notes that they've already started to understand its strange words. That word at the end, dripping in desperation, was one of begging. The doctor chitters again, frustration edging into their tones. Adrian shuts it down quickly with a sharp note. It makes the two beings in the room freeze.
“Hello there, hun,” they sing in the same, gentle tone that they used over the radio. Immediately, tension seems to flee its soft body, and it jerks in their direction with a choked noise. “Yes, yes, yes, it's me. It's ♪♫♫♫. Missed me already?”
“Iʇ,s ʎon–” it begins, face even more leaky and gross. Adrian fights not to let their mild disgust show in any way it can pick up on. All they care about is soothing its fragile fear. They might be the only Eridian in this entire district who truly care. They don't have to guess much on their next words. “It's you. The uᴉɔǝ voice,”
“Yes, yes yes,” Adrian taps the floor a few times, each tap growing closer to the twisted limbs of their small alien. It breathes weakly, whatever liquid dripping from its soft face hole compromises its breathing. “It must be scary, no way to perceive anything.”
“Wnsᴉɔ voice? ʎon,ɹǝ… uᴉɔǝ¿ Soɟʇ¿ I ɔɐu,ʇ sǝǝ˙ Is ʇɥᴉs ɐll ɟɐʞǝ ɐƃɐᴉu?” it mumbles softly, voice carrying a quality Adrian can't decipher quite yet. They know it's only a matter of time.
They eventually get close enough to touch, feeling the frightening cold surface of its body through their clothes and suit. They watch with no small amount of triumph that the alien trusted them above all other Eridians. It presses back, thin, harmless claws spreading over her carapace in quiet wonder. It was chilled. So incredibly chilled. They couldn't imagine a creature so cold. V+λ degrees, a full λIλ below any Eridian body temperature. Absolutely freezing, a fascinating thing that brings warmth to their carapace.
“So ʍɐɹɯ˙˙˙ פop ʍɥʎ ᴉs ǝʌǝɹʎʇɥᴉuƃ so ʍɐɹɯ,” it groans softly, leaning against the cold xenonite walls of its enclosure. Its hand remains firmly pressed against them, as if seeking out comfort and safety. Adrian lets it, letting a gentle hum fill the air. It's gentle and loving, something they know their colleague judges them from the airlock for.
“Safe safe safe. I will bring crystals and nutrient sludge. You will recover. ”
Adrian doubts that the alien can really understand what they're saying at this point. It can't possibly understand the comforts that they speak, but it seems to at least understand the tone. Adrian remains until it slumps entirely, falling unconscious once more.
“Good, dear one, sleep well,” Adrian carefully lifts it and moves it over to its nest, watching with barely constrained glee as it buries itself deeper into its fabric scraps. Adrian hesitantly pets through the soft fur-like material that comes from his head.
“Chemist Adrian is already close to alien,”
“Chemist Adrian is also about to put some Eridians out of their misery for the lack of forethought,” Adrian sings quietly, their tones dripping with a promise of pain. The doctor hums awkwardly, and after a brief moment of fearful silence, walks over with their tool bag.
They look over the alien quietly and take mental notes for the others involved in Project Blood Moon. “It needs food. The meat jerky can only work for so long, and even then, the process of removing heavy metals is incredibly difficult to maintain.”
“Do we know what is required to keep it alive?”
“The ones up top already gave you a list of nutrients, at least the ones that our field team could figure out,” The doctor sighs, and after another few sets of tests, the two of them exit the room.
“For the love of the gods, someone gets some crystals to let this poor creature perceive the world around it, or I will crush someone's carapace beneath my claws,” Adrian says it like it's nothing, but the doctor understands well how serious Adrian is. Nothing about their calm, level tones and behavior portrays their whisper-thin patience. With a few affirmative chirps, the doctor runs off. Good. Anyone who irritates Adrian again might genuinely die.
Adrian also knows that they'll never get work done like this, so they just settle into the observation deck and observe the sleeping creature. It feels good to sit like this, to have someone to watch once more.
Gods above, Adrian misses their mate. They want to snuggle close to their mate so desperately, and it feels like a hole has been carved deep into their core. For now, they watch. It's all they can do.
.
.
.
The next time Adrian enters the enclosure, it's with a tool belt full of ♪♫♫ 's old welding tools and a cart full of crystals. Adrian knows they've made the right choice when the alien pops up from its nest of soft cloth and turns exactly towards them. It stands up excitedly, already bouncing on its unbalanced legs and stumbling forward.
"┴ɥɐuʞ ɟnɔʞ' ʎon qɹonƃɥʇ lᴉƃɥʇ˙ Iʇs so pɐɯu pɐɹʞ˙" it mumbles softly, remaining hand reaching out to touch the cold surface of the crystals, only to flinch back. Its face pinches in a strange look, and it cradles its hand to its chest. Adrian drops their supplies and immediately reaches for it.
"Oh dear, come here, let me hear." Adrian is perfectly careful as they hold up the injured hand in their claw, tapping the side of its flesh to hear the slightly textured skin and feel the coldness. Right. The crystals must be several degrees warmer than the alien. "Sorry, sorry my dear,"
"Ⅎnɔʞ ʇɥɐʇs ɥoʇ˙ I ɟnɔʞᴉuƃ ɥɐʇǝ ʇɥǝ ɥǝɐʇ ɐʇ ʇɥᴉs doᴉuʇ," it lets out a snarling growl type sound, lodged deep in its main body. Adrian just pets the soft flesh of its arm. Eventually, Adrian was able to pull away and began to affix the crystals to the ceiling until the entire room was covered in the beautiful crystals.
"Better?" They asked softly, hoping beyond hope that they were enough. The alien moves slowly, head on a small swivel. Eventually he [looks] straight at Adrian, teeth bared slightly. The expression awkwardly stretches the stitches on its face. It jerked its head up and down, a gesture Adrian hasn't yet decoded.
"Hello, young one, I am Adrian, Adrian," They say softly, pointing at themselves. Although it's difficult to gauge the emotions the creature displays, they can guess. Guess the way its sensory organs seemed to vibrate and shift frequently. After another few seconds of quiet contemplation, it does something that startles them deeply.
"Adrian," it whistles softly, feeding hole puckered in a tight circle as it uses its limited vocal range to mimic their name. Adrian finds themselves becoming very, very still. How... It bares its teeth again, something they're coming to understand means happiness. It points directly at them and whistles again. "Adrian, Adrian, Adrian,"
"Oh," Adrian felt like they might collapse onto the freezing xenonite floor in shock, "Oh my fucking gods, i taught an Alien Eridian,"
"Adrian?" It sings again, this time a touch of confusion spilling into its tone. Fascinating. Terrifying.
"Yes," they shudder and allow the marvel of the situation to take over instead of the fear. "Yes, yes, yes, I'm Adrian, so proud,"
"Sᴉɯou' Sᴉɯou' Sᴉɯou' I,ɯ Sᴉɯou'" it points at itself with that mildly terrifying happiness expression and leans closer. It doesn't do much; Eridians have great hearing already. Adrian thrilled softly in awe. Simon. It has a name. Of course, it has a name. It's an intelligent life capable of space travel and exploration.
"Ah, you have a name. Cannot say it back, though, uses those breathing bags," Adrian stomps the floor in mild frustration. Simon. Such a unique name, a name Adrian had no way of vocalizing with the limitation of their vocal boxes. It was unfortunate.
For now, Adrian settles on a nickname, a collection of cords that loosely translates to space-alien-bloody-friend, and it seems to be enough. Simon brokenly attempts to mimic it, but with only one set of vocal cords, it comes out flat and awkward.
“Good enough,” Adrian can't help but laugh.
.
.
.
“Adrian, you understand how many resources you're asking for, right?” Their superior whistles, stomping the ground as if to enunciate their words.
“I understand, yes,”
“We don't have the resources to spare, we're barely keeping our own species afloat after losing our best Eridians, and you want to pour any more into this creature?”
“This creature is our first contact with aliens, with intelligent life outside of our own. Aliens who clearly are able to traverse space and build submersible machines and have senses not even we possess,” Adrian doesn't raise their voice, doesn't have to, but there’s a deep, unwavering rage nestled in their notes. They don't mention that they thought the alien was cute. They don't mention the excited gibberish or the quiet wonder the alien shows regularly. “Potentially starting an interplanet war with an entire species that could otherwise help us. Our… Our starship has already gone dead. This is probably our only shot at salvation.”
Adrian explains slowly, quietly observing the frustration bubbling within their boss. Would the little alien bundled up in their lab truly become their salvation? No. Adrian has next to no hope in that department. It died right the moment that the space exploration cluster announced the failure of their starship.
This wasn't enough; it wasn't a replacement. Their family will no doubt suffer in the coming years. Yet, Adrian refuses to let this poor, sad creature quietly wither away. As the leading Chemist on the project, they planned to use their power in whatever way necessary.
Simon deserves at least that. It fights so desperately to live at every moment possible, doing everything it can to live even as it slowly loses body mass, the longer the Eridians struggle to get the food just right. Adrian could at least fight for it, too.