“No hope there,” Alini sighed. “Ain’t nobody I sniffed knows where the Abyss your Emperor is or who he is even. Say, Stormy… do you know where your Emperor is hiding?”

  “We don’t have an Emperor, as far as I’m aware,” Piotr answered.

  “Ughhh,” Alini whined. “Of course you don’t. Except he spoke to Commander Silly.” She made a bothered face. "Quick, think of the Emperor of Humanity's current location!"

  Piotr stared at the wolf.

  The only Emperor of Humanity he knew was the character from War-Gunner 50k, a skeletal man sitting on a golden...

  He felt something like silver sparks dancing at the edges of his mind, caressing his thoughts like a cold breeze. The mental image of the Emperor of Humanity from Wikipedia suddenly became extra sharp in his head as if propped up by an invisible... something.

  "Forget about it," Linari exhaled above him. "S'sss the same dum' throne pic, no matter how hard I pull. I'm getting sick of this shit. It's like twirling in circles."

  "Yep. Sadge," Alini shrugged. “Oh well. Hey, Stormy-lynxy, does this drinking establishment have no victory songs? No battle hymns? We must celebrate successful planetfall n’ dominion with zero casualties… properly!"

  "The speakers are here," Piotr pointed to the sound system. "The bartender probably turned everything off when you arrived."

  "Ah! Ssss’ p-pradavarian discrimination!" Linari declared, squeezing Piotr tighter. "We demand equal access to... to... uhh? The rhythm sounds!"

  "Music!" Alini supplied with a giggle.

  "Yes! Moo-sic!" Linari attempted to stand and immediately wobbled. "Little lynx, you and the green witch warrior maiden! Go make the moo-sicc happen!” She released Piotr. “I wish to enjoy your Earth's ffff-finest war chants! Surely your colorful war-band can summon some war-moossskkkk, yesss?"

  Elphaba and Piotr exchanged glances before heading toward the back of the pub past the bartending stand. They found a small closet with a sound system, cables tangled like electronic spaghetti.

  "You know," Piotr whispered in Polish as Elphaba connected her phone to the aux cable, "this is not how I expected first contact to go."

  "What did you expect? Probing? Lectures about humanity's primitive guns?" Elphaba scrolled through her Spotify. "Hrm. What do you play for sloshed alien wolf mercenaries?"

  "Something with a beat they can howl to?" Piotr shrugged.

  "Perfect." She selected a Polish party playlist. The opening beats of "Przez Twe Oczy Zielone" thundered through the speakers.

  The basement erupted in approving howls. When they returned, the wolves had formed a rough circle, attempting to dance wobbling from inebriation. One had grabbed Tesla, a skinny guy in a partial red fox suit and black chainmail, and was spinning him around like a dance partner.

  "YOUR MUSIC IS ACCEPTABLE!" Linari shouted over the bass. "VERY BOUNCY!"

  As the night progressed and the bottles multiplied, the wolves became increasingly chatty. Piotr remained permanently stationed on Linari's lap. The wolf refused to let him go, occasionally petting his fake fur, pawing his armor and cooing about his cuteness.

  "You know what's weird about your Earth?" Linari slurred, her fifth bottle of vodka somehow making her more articulate rather than less. "The Astral here is thicc as molasses. Can barely smell thoughts through it."

  "You can smell thoughts?" Piotr asked.

  "Scrutiosmia," she tapped her nose proudly, then missed and poked herself in the eye. "Ow. Fuck. Anyway, we Scrutsss can usually smell liesss, intentions, memories even. But here?" She made a disgusted face. "It's like trying to smell through soup. Thick, confusing soup full of... of... what did the Commander Silly call them? 'Fictional constructs.'"

  Another wolf alien with striking silver-white markings, leaned over. "It's true! I tried to interrogate a human earlier about yorrr planetary defense systems. His mind was full of something called 'Star Glades.' Spent three hours trying to find this 'Doom Star… Moon thing' before Sillicia told me it probably wasn't real, since we’d see a giant death lazrrr moon in orbit.”

  "How weren't it real if he remembered it so clearly?" another beta-wolf demanded. "He had a massive emotional attachment to it!”

  "Because local humans are weird," Linari concluded sagely. "Adorable! But weird. They believe in things that aren't real so hard that it becomes soooperrr real in their minds. Makes our job unnecessarily complicated."

  “Not just that,” Alini added, now wearing someone's rainbow cat-ear headband “There’s no system here.”

  “What system?” Piotr asked.

  “Systemfall. Ssss…. A Syntropic entity!” Linari explained. “Infects most universes with… uhhh.. Wormwood Star shards! It helps Scruts like us determine what’s true and what’s imaginary.”

  “How?”

  “Imaginary shit doesn’t have stats,” Alini stated. “Doesn’t smell real. Except on this world. Everything here smells real. It’s inconvenient as fuck. Too much linear shit. Your tech is weird too.”

  “Weird how?” the Witch wondered.

  “Does not use mana,” Linari said. “Silly told me that it took the Admiral way too long to figure out how to broadcast her image and voice across youurrr planet. Usually it's a super simple process! The Aetheric density of your Earth is like negative-linear or some shit. I've no idea how your music works! Super weird. Normally mooo-oosic is cast via specific runes that vibrate the air n’ shit.”

  "The Admiral's pissed I hear," Alini added. "Spending all this energy and time searching for the Princess when she's apparently just chilling with her Emperor ‘bold."

  "Shhhh," Linari made an exaggerated shushing motion that nearly knocked over three bottles. "We're not supposed to talk about the Princess."

  "Why not? She's found, she's fine, she's eating ice cream." Alini shrugged. "Saw it myself. Though why she won't talk to the Admiral is iffy."

  "Eh, just family drama," another wolf suggested. "You know how the Highborns are."

  “What’s the Princess like?” Elphaba asked.

  "She aiiight," Linari mused, absently braiding the fake fur on Piotr's costume head. "Met her once during a ceremonial review. She actually looked at me. Not through me like most Highborn Omnids. Actually asked about our deployment conditions, made jokes. She funny…"

  "Yeah, and then she vanished right before her Bloodline Trial," Alini added, throwing an empty bottle at a wall and exploding it into sparkling shards. "Convenient timing."

  "Bloodline Trials?" Elphaba leaned closer.

  "Proving of worth," Linari explained. "All Highborn Frontenachii have to do it. Show they're worthy of their position. Usually involves commanding one of the orbital warships to blast a world or two into submission or something else valorous and violent involving her kobold pack."

  "Maybe she didn't want to command an orbital warship to blast the locals?" Piotr suggested.

  The wolves all bark-laughed.

  "Not wantin’ to atomize something?" Linari wheezed. "She's a Frontenachii! They live for that shit! Their whole clan is built on dominion and... and..." she frowned, losing her train of thought.

  "Sustainable harvesting," Alini supplied with a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Feeding on suffering and fear.”

  The mood shifted slightly. Even drunk, the wolves seemed uncomfortable with that phrase.

  "We don't talk about that either," Linari said quietly, then brightened forcibly. "Hey! Tiny warrior lynx! Your fur is so soft! Is it real?"

  "It's synthetic," Piotr said, grateful for the subject change.

  "Sin-the-tic," Linari repeated slowly. "Fake fur on fake predators. Your whole world is fake! I love it!" She nuzzled his costume head again. "Everything here is adorable and harmless and nothing wants to eat me! Sssss’ fooking great."

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  "That you know of," Elphaba said ominously, then ruined it by giggling.

  "Even if something tried, I'd just get resurrected," Linari shrugged. "Though dying still suuuuucks ass.”

  “How do you know our planet’s harmless?” Tesla asked.

  “Duh! No dungeons, no System, no dragons,” Linari waved a large, clawed hand. “No conceptoids, no hungry high level beasts. No visible archmages or wizards or cultivators declaring us ‘pestilence’ and tryin’ to punch us with magic fists or dum’ spells. No thousand-kilometer crabs with grabby gold tentacles that suck out souls. No extreme Entropy that melts your face off and grinds your soul with each breath. Just smol, sweet, little, obedient, cooperative, imaginative… locals. A world seemingly empty of visible threats and genuine predators.” She patted Piotr. “Just Sin-te-tic cuties.”

  “Is that why you just let your guns sit in a corner?” Piotr wondered.

  “Ah that,” Linari grinned, waving at the nearest gun. “Go ahead, try to pick mine up.”

  “Ummm,” Piotr gulped. “It won’t, like, shoot my head off or something?”

  “Nah, but it will threaten you,” Linari laughed. “Go on, try it.” She pushed the programmer off her lap. “Touch the gun.”

  Piotr slowly approached the nearest gun and poked at it. The black rifle unfolded into a spider, a trio of red eyes igniting on the hexagonal-shaped head, long spindly legs moving back and forth.

  “You are not Linari Browmin,” the gun commented with a yawn. “Please don’t touch me or I will decapitate you.”

  Piotr jumped back, armored hands raised.

  The gun folded itself back into the shape of a gun.

  “See?” Linari commented. “She’s a symbiote weapon, blood bound to my soul. Ain’t nobody can use Etty except for me.”

  Two of the wolves at the far table passed out, one face-planting directly into a puddle of spilled vodka. In a minute, two weapons unfolded from rifle forms, spindly spider legs extending.

  "Beta-Scrut Torreni requires transport," one gun announced in a female voice, wrapping its legs around its unconscious owner's torso.

  "Beta-Scrut Yilani requires transport," the other gun added.

  The guns began dragging their owners toward the stairs, navigating around furniture and bottles. For a moment, the first gun paused to adjust Torreni's head so she wouldn't bang it on the steps.

  "Pff. Lightweights," Linari scoffed, pulling Piotr back onto her lap. Then, she stared down at him with copper-gold eyes. "Hey, Stormy-bae. Wanna have sex?"

  Piotr's brain short-circuited. "What?"

  "Sex. Mating. Horizontal wigglage." Linari’s ears perked forward, waiting for his reply. "Is that not a thing your species does? You smell like you’d like that a lot, I think. Maybe. Too drunk to sss-Scrutinize you properly.”

  "I... we... that's very..." Piotr stuttered out not expecting this angle of attack from the alien wolf. "Direct? A direct offer. What, right now?"

  "Eh," Linari's tail wagged, thumping against the booth. "Not now, obviously. I'm pretty sloshed and you're cute and probably fragile, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing that barbaric armor, right? Would not be responsible if I crush you to death and have to spend creds to incarnate you," She clicked with her tongue. "But I could give you my Pradstagram number? So that we can arrrr… arrange it… later, yeah?"

  "Uhm. How long will you be deployed here?" Piotr managed.

  "Dunno. Could be weeks. Could be years. The Princess is apparently being stubborn about talking to the Admiral, and knowing the Frontenachii..." She made a vague gesture with her bottle. "Silly says the Admiral and Legates are already drawing up preliminary integration plans."

  "Integration?" several costumed humans said in unison.

  "Standard procedure," Linari waved, looking unconcerned. “Even if you local cuties aren't packed with mana, you're still… ‘harvestable. Decent biological baseline, creative minds, strong emotional resonance’, Silly mentioned some shit like that. ‘The Colonial Board would probs classify dis’ Earth as a Grade-3 resource world minimum.’”

  Piotr’s hair stood on the back of his neck. "Harvesting. You mean... like what you mentioned before? The sustainable—"

  "Only criminals!" Linari said quickly, squeezing him reassuringly. "The Frontenachii Colonial Aegis wouldn’t wanna upset the majority into open rebb… rebellion. Only those condemned by local laws or those who resist integration rrr’ gonna get chopped up n’ framed up." She hiccupped. "Your Emperor… seems clever. He'll probably negotiate good terms. The Princess seems to like this place if she’s hiding out here, so that's already summ points in your flaavor."

  “Uhh, thanks,” Piotr outputted.

  "See? Nothing to worry abooot!" Linari beamed. "So, future sex? Yes? No? I promise I'm very gentle with cute boys. You’re a boy, right? You smell like one. Don’t be nervous. I don’t bite. Mostly. Ha ha."

  "I... sure?" he heard himself say. "Maybe? After we get to know each other better?"

  "Excellent!" Linari's tail went into overdrive. "Etty, make my new guud warrior fren’ a Voicecast ring!"

  The gun leaning against the wall unfolded with a sigh. "You’re paying, just so you know. Also, this is a protocol violation."

  "Yeah, yeah. Don’t give a fuck, am aaa… decorated… Alpha! Make with the basic V-ring. P-protocol override whatev-verrvr One One Two Six."

  Etty sighed, then skittered toward the wall, and began tearing chunks of drywall with black-blade legs, extracting copper wiring and then metal decorative elements from the bar. The humans scrambled back as the gun-spider danced around the bar, prying and weaving various salvaged materials.

  "Your gun is eating the wall," Tesla observed.

  "Just repurposing shit," Linari corrected. “S’fine. Commdrrr gave barman manager enough gold to build ten bars like diss one.”

  Within minutes, Etty had produced a transparent ring made of crystallized copper and reformed drywall and brick somehow fused into a glass-like substance. She skittered over and deposited the ring in Piotr's lap.

  "Basic Voicecast ring adapted to local low Aetheric density," Etty announced. “Do try not to break it, small meat creature."

  "Sorsss. My gun's a bit grumpy," Linari apologized, then glared at Etty. "Etty! Be nice to Stormy! He’s… he’s a warrior prince with a vvffery tt-ragic backstory! I think…"

  "I am always nice," Etty commented, folding back into gun form with a mechanical huff.

  Linari tapped a crystal ring on her finger on the ring now in Piotr’s hand. “Thar. We connected now. Call me tomorra in case I forget this entire conversashn, ya?”

  She took another swig of alcohol after clinking her bottle with Alini.

  “Yeah sure,” Piotr nodded, putting the large ring atop his armored glove. The ring snapped into place with a click, fitting the glove automatically. “How do I call you?”

  “Jsstt say ‘Voicecast Linari’ n’ it’ll connect y-youuu to my ring. Or ‘Linecast’ if you wanna send a text if you tooo shy for verrbiagery.”

  “Got it,” he nodded.

  "Guuuud drinkage," Linari slurred, nuzzling Piotr's costume head. "We're all gonna have terrible hangovershes tomorrow."

  "Maybe you should stop drinking?" Elphaba suggested.

  "Can't. Would be dishonorable! Commandrrr Silly paid for 'all we can drink.' Must maximize investment. Going to be doing stupid bottrngg shhtttt tomorrow again, like lookin for Man Spiders and Man Bat’s cave, I bet." Linari finished her bottle. She went quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then she brightened, squeezing Piotr again.

  "Is fine thoooo. Worth it! I made a cute lynx bar-bari-barbariannn friend-o who smells like he likesss me lotass. Today is a greatt daaay!"

  "It's technically tomorrow," Piotr pointed out with a yawn, noticing the clock showing 2:26 AM.

  "Even better! Tomorrow is a good day too!" Linari declared. "Etty, take a picture of me and Stormyooo for Pradstagrammmsh! I wanna member disss."

  The gun unfolded just enough to extend what looked like an eye on a stalk, which flashed once.

  Linari grinned wide, looking loopy as she squeezed Piotr’s armor.

  "Got it," Etty announced. "Caption?”

  “Uhhh… Found adorrabll local barbarian warrior-predator. Very smol n’ soft. Possibly venomous. Ten outta ten, would smoosh again, xxxtra hard… if ya kno watt I mrrreaaan. Futurrr Linaa takk note!"

  She smooshed Piotr, leaned on the table with a yawn of wide snout and then started to snore, drooling.

  Etty unfolded with an exasperated mechanical sigh. "Every. Single. Safe-world deployment."

  The gun extended her legs, delicately prying Piotr from Linari's lap. He found himself being lifted and set aside like a child's toy managed by spidery appendages.

  "You," Etty's trio of red eyes focused on Piotr. "Storm-whatever knight. Do not interpret my owner's inebriated proposition as an invitation to take vast liberties."

  "I wouldn't—" Piotr started.

  "Good." Two of Etty's spider legs moved from her eyes to point directly at Piotr, then back to her eyes, then at him again in the universal gesture for 'I'm watching you.' "Because I am always watching. Always. I don't sleep. I don't blink. I don’t get tired. And I have very precise opinions about consent and the structural integrity of male reproductive organs. Also I can slice through those primitive metal plates in less than a second."

  Piotr gulped audibly.

  "That said," Etty's tone shifted slightly, becoming almost conversational as she began wrapping her legs around Linari's torso, "she genuinely likes you. Hasn't shown interest in anyone since that unfortunate incident with the Xallaxian diplomat. You should feel flattered."

  "Unfortunate incident?" Elphaba asked.

  "She accidentally broke three of his ribs during what she considered 'a friendly hug.'" Etty began dragging Linari toward the stairs. "Frontenachii Colonial Med-symbiote had to rebuild his entire ribcage. Very embarrassing for my bonded sister."

  The other barely-conscious wolves were busy singing badly and trying to teach Garret and Tesla pradavarian battle hymns.

  "If you do pursue this, remember: she weighs 127 kilograms of your local units, has a bite force of 1,800 PSI of your local units, and gets very enthusiastic about everything she does. Everything."

  "That's... informative?" Piotr let out.

  "It's a warning. I was bred to prevent my bonded-sister from accidentally murdering potential mates. It reflects poorly on her service record." Etty paused at the top of the stairs. "That ring she gave you? It has a panic command. Yell ‘help Etty’ if you're ever in actual distress during... interactions. I'll intervene."

  "You'll intervene during—" Piotr choked.

  "I've had to extract her from compromising positions forty-seven times across sixteen different worlds. I'm essentially a babysitter with incredibly lethal capabilities." The gun's mechanical sigh echoed down the stairwell. "Unlike her, I do not get drunk. Do you have any idea how demeaning it is for a Crystalloid symbiote weapon to play relationship counselor? Ughhh."

  With that, Etty hauled Linari up the remaining stairs, the wolf's armored feet bumping on the stairwell. Just before disappearing on the turn, one spider leg extended back down to point at Piotr once more.

  "Remember. Watching. Always." Then, almost as an afterthought: "She prefers afternoon calls or texts. Something about your day. Maybe about a thing you hunted, thinking of her. She's sentimental like that."

  The gun-spider vanished into the upper floor. The remaining two wolves passed out, having drunk themselves into a complete stupor.

  "Wow dawg," Elphaba chortled, slapping Piotr on the back, "you just got blessed with relationship advice from an alien spider-gun."

  "I think I need another beer," Piotr muttered, shaking his head.

  “I think we got enough first contact deets for today,” Elphaba commented, standing up and watching as the guns dragged their snoring masters to their crystal tank. “Let’s head out.”