Tepin's Muse: Gay Edition

Deceleration soon alerted him that they were nearing the station, the rumble of the landing gear and the tug of gravity informing him that they had touched down in one of the hangars, the lander taxiing for a short distance before coming to a full stop. The lighting strips turned green again, Tepin watching as his neighbors began to unfasten their harnesses. He did the same, stooping to retrieve his pack, the ramp at the back of the bay beginning to lower as the occupants lined up in two neat rows.

Tepin followed behind them as they jogged down the ramp, blinking his eyes as he emerged from the lander and into one of the station's cavernous hangars. The ceiling was so high above his head, the deck so massive that it made the camouflaged lander look like a toy. Theirs was not the only vessel in the bay. Far to his left was an Earth'nay ship, perhaps one hundred and fifty meters long, sitting atop a set of sturdy landing skids. Its angular, jet-black hull was sleek and tapered, designed to defeat radar detection. It was covered in hatches that Tepin recognized as torpedo launch bays, the bridge subtly raised from the hull towards the aft, just above the monstrous cones of its main engines.

The vessel was being fawned over by Earth'nay wearing yellow jumpsuits, the aliens appeared to be servicing it. They were inspecting the underside of the craft, tablet computers clutched in their five-fingered hands, and they were walking along gantries that extended from the walls to let them reach its blocky hull. It was the first time that he had seen one of the creatures in person. They were big, perhaps a foot and a half taller than he was, with flat faces and an upright posture. Their scaleless skin came in varying tones, as did the fur atop their heads, all of them rather drab.

He turned to look back at the lander, his eyes widening as he noticed the force field behind it. It was a wall of shimmering, blue light, transparent enough that he could easily see the starfield beyond. The cold points of light rotated past slowly with the spin of the station, the gaping maw of space transfixing him, making him feel as though he was about to be sucked out into the vacuum.

It was a struggle to look away, but he turned his eyes back to his fellow Valbara'nay, hurrying to catch up with them as they made their way towards a far-off hangar door. He had only been on the station for a minute, and already he had discovered a vista that he was inspired to paint.

There were two more Earth'nay flanking the exit, these ones dressed in black armor, their faces concealed behind opaque visors. Their appearance didn't frighten Tepin, far from it. These were UNN Marines, Earth'nay ground troops of the same kind who had fought to defend Valbara. The sight of them filled him with a kind of awe. He had only ever seen them in videos before now, footage captured during the battles to repel boarders on the planetary defense stations, and the fight to retain control of the Yilgarn spaceport.

One of them stepped forward, beginning to exchange information with the leader of Tepin's group. The aliens had wrist-mounted computers much like those that were integrated into Valbara'nay pressure suits, and after a short conversation, they were admitted through the door.

Tepin emerged into a habitat that dwarfed the one that he had lived on for the last few months. He craned his neck, spinning on the spot as he took in his surroundings, his eyes wide. It was like a ring-shaped city. The concave ceiling was high above his head, painted with an elaborate mural to simulate an azure sky, wisps of white cloud trailing along its subtle curvature. There were domed lamps spaced out at intervals, casting a glow that approximated the light of a yellow sun, he could feel their heat even though his suit.

The torus was separated into two wide walkways, and between them were lines of planters that were overflowing with alien foliage. There were conical trees, leafy shrubs brimming with colorful flowers, and tangled vines that had been encouraged to grow around trellises. They were all varying shades of green, there wasn't a hint of purple or blue in sight. These species might photosynthesize in different wavelengths than those of Valbara, the different quality of the sunlight made that a likely possibility. He could also see information kiosks that flickered with multi-colored, holographic displays, and booths with sliding doors that might be for communications. There were wooden benches where the occupants of the station might sit, and judging by how the walkway curved out of view in both directions, they would certainly need to rest. This structure must be miles long.

The hull to either side of the walkway was lined with what looked at first glance to be buildings. Upon further inspection, they were in fact extrusions of white metal that had been sculpted to give that impression. Their facades were patterned to resemble brickwork and stone, sporting alien architectural styles that he didn't recognize. Those would certainly be fun to sketch. The windows that looked out onto the torus were packed with foreign curiosities and flashing signs in Earth'nay script, holographic animations and shiny trinkets drawing him in.

It wasn't merely the technology of the station that awed him. Everywhere he looked, there were aliens, it was a veritable sea of people. Most of them were humans, walking along precariously without a tail to balance them, wearing clothes in all manner of colors and styles. Tepin could also see several groups of Borealans, the fierce, feline warriors standing head and shoulders above the shorter humans. They strode along on a pair of powerful, digitigrade legs, their furry tails waving in the air behind them. They were muscular and broad-shouldered, their furry fingers tipped with hooked claws, a pair of round ears protruding from their heads. They were near twice his height, but he wasn't intimidated by them. They too had fought for Valbara during the invasion.

He looked around for Krell excitedly, but he couldn't see any right now. Video footage of the giant reptiles had been circulating on the homeworld, but the Rorke hadn't had a great many of them aboard, and sightings of them had been rare. They were immense creatures, four times the height of the average Valbara'nay from nose to tail, and they fought like demons when provoked.

On Valbara, the female gender was the dominant one, which Tepin had been surprised to learn was not the case for all of the species. They were larger than males, stronger, sexual dimorphism giving them more pronounced feminine traits. The ideal male had a short, stunted snout, and scales that were as smooth as glass. His feathers were vibrant and well-groomed, his eyes were bright, and his frame was slight. He was expected to be meek, deferential, and nurturing. Jewelry was commonly worn to draw a woman's gaze to a slender neck, or a flat stomach, and paints were often used to darken the scales around one's eyes to enhance their color.

Females, on the other hand, were warriors. They were dominant, aggressive, protective. Their role was that of a bulwark, defending those dear to them. Their snouts were longer, and they were more physically imposing, with more muscle mass. Rougher scales were considered attractive, they didn't spend hours polishing them, nor did they preen over their feathers. With that in mind, the Krell were the ultimate embodiment of female ideals. They were larger and stronger than any Valbara'nay could hope to be, with snouts as long as a Valbara'nay was tall, and armored scutes that made them nigh impervious to damage. They were almost a parody of femininity, more akin to the war deities of ancient Valbara'nay culture, or the manifestations of natural beauty worshiped by the animists of ages past.

If only Tepin could get a good look at one, he was certain that he would find his muse.

The procession of Valbara'nay stopped, the Navy personnel lining up in two neat rows, Tepin almost bumping into them. The four commanders hopped up onto a nearby planter, perching on the edge of it as they addressed their subordinate flocks, the passing aliens sparing them confused glances as they navigated around the group. Tepin reached up to open his visor, taking in a lungful of the station's air, along with innumerable alien scents. There was even an artificial breeze here, he could feel it on his scales.

"Our orders are to make our way to the military quarter of the station, where we will rendezvous with the flocks from the other landers," one of them began. In the Coalition, a single individual was often the highest-ranked member of a unit, but that seemed insane to Tepin. How could they be relied upon make wise decisions without consensus? All four of these females were of equal rank, and each of their decisions was subject to debate within their flock.

"If you should lose your way, simply follow the color-coded lines on the deck," another added. "There are also detailed maps available at the kiosks. Be careful, we are the smallest species in the Coalition, and these people are not accustomed to having us here. Don't get stepped on."

That got a chuckle from everyone, but it seemed like a genuine threat to Tepin. Those Borealans must weigh ten times what he did, if not more. A four and a half foot, fifty-pound Valbara'nay with hollow bones wouldn't fare too well in such an encounter.

"We also have a civilian accompanying us today," one of the commanders added with a gesture in his direction. A few of the females turned their helmeted heads to peer back at him. "I'm sure some of you have seen him around the carrier's habitat. The Council of Ensi value cultural and technological exchange as much as military cooperation, and they decided to open up places on the carriers to civilians. He is an artist, as I am told, and he will be recording what he sees here."

There were some approving nods from the females. The arts were traditionally dominated by males, they were considered the more creative gender. Dancing and singing were of special appeal, many males who sought independence often found themselves working as musicians, or entertaining the patrons of lounges as dancers.

"You've been granted a civilian visa to stay on the station," another of the four commanders added, addressing Tepin directly. "The Coalition has assigned you living quarters for the duration of your stay, I'm transmitting the relevant data to your computer," she said as she tapped at the panel on her forearm. "Since you're not a member of the military, we can't compel you to do anything, but we still feel responsible for you as a fellow Valbara'nay. We would all feel more at ease if you'd permit one of the flocks to escort you there, the idea of leaving a male alone in such an alien environment does not sit well with us."

He felt two dozen pairs of eyes on him, his heart leaping into his throat. He steadied himself, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. The last thing that he wanted was to have his suit flash purple in front of everyone again. He hadn't come all this way to be chaperoned by the females, he wanted to explore, he wanted to seek out inspiration on his own terms.

"Thank you, Commanders," Tepin replied, "but I would prefer to find my own way. My task here is to make a record of what I see so that it might resonate with the Valbara'nay who cannot make this journey themselves, and for that reason, I should let my curiosity guide me."

"As you wish," she replied. "Do you speak English well enough to make yourself understood?"

"I do," he said, "I was required to learn the Earth'nay's language as part of my mission training."

"That's good," another of the commanders said, "you can ask the aliens for help if you need it. Remember, you can always contact the fleet, or any of the crew, via your computer. Don't hesitate to ask if you require our assistance."

"Thank you, Commander," he said with a bow of his head. "I will follow your advice."

With that, the commanders led their charges away, the flocks weaving through the throngs of aliens. Being shorter than the other member species of the alliance, they soon disappeared from view, leaving Tepin standing alone beside the planter.

The Navy's job had only been to transport him here, and now that he was on the station, he could go wherever he wanted. He hopped up onto the planter, alarming a passing Earth'nay, then brought up the holographic display on his wrist. The file that the commander had sent to him contained a map of the station, and instructions on how to reach his quarters. The station was split into four sections, and there was apparently a residential quarter where visitors and high-ranking personnel were housed. It was quite a walk, how did the humans make their way around without scooters or trains?

The walkways seemed dangerous, there were so many people packed so tightly together, and so he proceeded downspin using the planters instead. They were long, oblong-shaped containers made from the same white material as the hull, filled with dark soil in which the various flora was growing. Perhaps an Earth'nay might not have been able to make their way through the dense trees and shrubs, but there was more than enough room for the diminutive Valbara'nay. They were broken up by the benches and kiosks, which were simple enough to navigate around.

He almost felt like he was taking a stroll through one of the parks in his home city as he stepped between bushes and around the thick, gnarled trunks of the alien trees. Were it not for the sound of a thousand muddled conversations and the gawking pedestrians, the illusion would have been very convincing. The creators of this marvelous structure seemed to want its inhabitants to forget that they were on a space station.

Tepin paused to admire one of the trees, removing the gloves of his pressure suit and running his hands across its trunk. The bark was rough, almost like scales in its own right, the dark green leaves shaped like sharp needles. The flowers were so diverse in their colors and shapes, their myriad scents rising to his nose. He had only been on the station for a few minutes, but he already felt inspired.

There were no other pedestrians here, so he wasn't blocking traffic by taking a little time to capture one of them. Tepin locked the joints in his digitigrade legs, taking the strain off his muscles, reaching for his rucksack and rummaging inside it. He fished out a small container made from black polymer, opening it up and plucking his visor from the soft, padded interior. It was a simple pane of glass that wrapped around his eyes, resting on his snout, featureless save for a plastic box that housed the electronics.

After removing his helmet and setting it aside, he put the visor on, the heads-up display flaring to life when the computer's biometric sensor kicked in. It was not designed for combat, it wouldn't interface with a laser rifle or the flight control systems of a fighter, it was an artist's tool.

He set his bag down, then raised his scaly hands in front of his face, watching as the computer located his fingers and began to track them. Each of his claws was assigned a small, orange ring that hovered around it, keeping its position even as he flexed his digits. In the upper right was a menu, projected into the air before him like a hologram, and he reached up to tap at it with his index finger. He selected sculpting mode from the drop-down menu, a formless lump of what looked like wet clay appearing before him. It too hovered in the air, moving along with his head. He selected another option from the menu, then reached out and plucked the ball of clay from the air, holding it in his left hand. His eyes darted between a nearby flower and the clay for a moment, then he began to sculpt with his left hand, using his claws to score the soft material.

Just like a real ball of clay, he was able to turn it over in his hand, repositioning the simulated object in three-dimensional space as he carved. This was a device that he had brought with him from the homeworld, and so it already had many presets, the software long ago tailored to his needs. He used the primary of his two fingers for smaller and more precise strokes, using the second as though it was a larger tool. He had his thumb configured so that he could cycle through the various simulated picks and blades by pressing it against his hand, switching to a finer point as he began to shape the folded petals.

Before long, Tepin had sculpted a near-perfect replica of the flower that he had chosen, holding it up and admiring it. Next came the painting, and he accessed the menu once more, struggling to approximate the vibrant red of the plant. He couldn't quite get it right, and so he had the computer match the color for him, his fingers taking on the role of simulated paintbrushes. The grey color of the now hard clay gave way to his careful brushstrokes, his creation seeming to come to life before his eyes.

Tepin was not merely reproducing what he saw, a photograph or a video recording could have done that just fine. The very same computer that he was wearing right now could have scanned the flower and copied it perfectly. No, art was about more than simply reproducing reality, it was about conveying emotion in a way that a mere reproduction could not. Once the painting was done, he began to take some artistic liberties, adding gleaming droplets of morning dew to the petals until the flower seemed to sparkle. He enjoyed the contrast of the red flower and the green leaves that surrounded it, adding some more pieces of wet clay and shaping them, releasing his flower and carefully positioning them behind it.

After admiring his creation for a moment longer, he filed it away, stowing his visor in its case and returning his helmet to his head once more. The thing was too heavy and inconvenient to carry around, he'd store it away once he reached his quarters.

***

Tepin arrived at the destination that had been marked on his map, one of a series of blocky Earth'nay dwellings that lined the walls of the torus in the residential quarter. They were stacked end to end like boxes on a shelf, their facades sculpted to resemble brickwork, the greenery from strategically placed planters breaking up the matte white to make it feel a little less synthetic. They too must be curved, as they were sitting upon an inverted torus, but the structure was so large that such a curvature was imperceptible. The architects of the station seemed to favor cubes in contrast to the domes that characterized Valbara'nay buildings. Everything had sharp edges, even the windows and the doors had harsh ninety-degree angles. At least they had some appreciation for nature, that was a trait shared by both species.

He approached the door, finding that it was considerably larger than would be necessary even for an Earth'nay. It looked more suited to a Borealan, but perhaps all of the doors on the station were scaled up to its largest inhabitants. That would make sense, as it was easier to pass through an oversized opening than an undersized one.

The door was locked with a numeric keypad that was embedded in the frame a little higher than was convenient for him, Tepin referencing the code on his wrist computer before reaching up to type it in. Earth'nay script was odd. They used a set of ten numerals that they combined into larger numbers, including one that represented a null value, resulting in him having to do a little math in his head to get a handle on them. Their representation for the number eleven, for example, was made up of two numerals that represented a one. They had no distinct numeral for it, unlike Valbara'nay script, which had numerals all the way up to one hundred. Perhaps the aliens couldn't remember so many at once? The door slid aside, and he stepped over the threshold, the lights inside the room turning on when they sensed his presence.