That especially intelligent lifeform traveled from a planet characterized by a parade of miracles to pay this planet, dubbed “Martin” — a planet that was a comparatively late bloomer — a visit. The endemic creatures never came up with a name for the planet, so they didn’t object. Though of course, they didn’t exactly actively welcome it, either.
The alien lifeform set foot upon this land not long ago. They were not hostile to the native life. In fact, they demonstrated good will, and as such, the biosphere’s cycle of life was not much disturbed. Even the more intelligent species might not have even noticed the planet had been invaded. While the indigenous species lived their everyday existences, persisting since ancient times, the aliens assiduously built up their own base of everyday life.
Eventually, another set of aliens that shared a point of origin with the first set of aliens arrived. The second planetary invasion was also a very mild affair, but the original invaders’ pride was badly wounded. Yet there was a more pressing problem than even the blow to their self-esteem, for it was then that the first set of aliens learned that the universe was in an era of upheaval. They had to accept that their isolated and quiet lifestyle was never to return, and that they had been swallowed by that galactic turmoil without an escape rope.
That terrible agitation had reached the carefree primitive lifeforms, as well. Many creatures that would otherwise have died in obscurity on-planet were brought to the threshold of the stars.
“Jint, the flowers look about ready to bloom.”
“Hm?” said Linn Ssynec Raucr Dreuc Haïder Ghintec, looking up from the dining table. “Oh, morning, Lafier. You eat breakfast yet?”
“Not yet,” said Roïbomoüass Laburer (Star Forces Vice Hecto-Commander) Ablïarsec Néïc Dubreuscr Bœrh Parhynr Lamhirh, shaking her head.
“Well then, how about breakfast together?” Jint gestured toward the chair.
“Did you not hear me?” said Lafier, remaining on her feet. “The flowers are about to bloom.”
“Yeah, I heard about it, too,” said Jint as he scooped his scrambled eggs with a sréragh (fork-spoon). Lately, he was feeling a bit sleep-deprived. His head felt numb, and he didn’t have much of an appetite.
“Then why are you still eating?” Lafier asked, casting a look.
“What do you mean? I’m not done eating,” he explained, clearly and concisely. Despite his status as a count, Jint was raised in a modest home, and he felt pangs of conscience at the prospect of wasting leftover food.
“You idiot,” she assessed his character, clearly and concisely. “A flower blooms, a cat is born.”
Jint glanced at the corner of the room where Sercruca’s labor bed was installed. The white Abh cat was feeding her three newborn kittens with her milk. Abh cats were active by nature, but they were also exceedingly docile in character. The exception was before and after giving birth. They’d expended some effort transporting Sercruca to the labor bed after she’d gone into labor atop one of the shelves in the commodities warehouse, and whenever they tried to touch the kittens, the cat lost her cool.
It was on Jint to decide what would become of the kittens, as a result of his consultation with Lafier. But as things stood, it was probably wise to wait a while before finding the kittens a new owner. Besides, Jint wanted to be with the kittens for a little longer.
Jint returned Lafier’s gaze and said: “Flowers don’t wilt immediately. Why all the fuss?”
“Aren’t they special flowers to you?”
“Ahh,” he said, rising from his seat. “You mean those flowers? Shoulda told me sooner.”
“I didn’t think you were that slow. Why would I inform you about any old normal flowers?”
“True enough, but I just got up and my head’s not working properly yet,” explained Jint. Had he been in typical form, he would have at least thought to ask which flowers she was referring to.
“Liar. You’re always like that,” declared the Royal Princess.
“Well, if you’re not sharp enough to know I’m not that sharp, what’s that make you?”
“You’re so unexceptional sometimes it’s a work of art. If you’re not the sharpest, you should stay that way.”
“That defies logic.”
“What are you going to do? Are you going to go see the flowers, or keep eating?”
“I’ll go see ’em,” he said, pushing away the plate.
“Would you like me to lower it?” asked the table.
“Yep. Please do,” said Jint, but not without feeling guilty. The center of the table, on which his plate of leftovers rested, proceeded to sink down. Jint gazed with regrets aplenty as his breakfast vanished from view.
“You’re surprisingly plebeian,” said Lafier, amazed. “If you were that hungry, you didn’t need to be so hasty. The flowers won’t wither that quickly.”
“That’s not it. Those flowers are at their most beautiful the moment they bloom, and it doesn’t take long after they start blooming for them to be in full bloom. Also, I’m not hungry. I’m just sad I couldn’t fulfill my duty.”
“What duty?”
“I really don’t think you’d understand,” he deflected, not feeling like explaining.
“You don’t know that.”
Jint saw her earnest eyes, and became racked by a different guilt altogether. It appeared as though Lafier was taking his wise-cracking seriously. He almost wanted to tell her that he was just putting a little twist on the nugget of discipline they’d drilled into him when he was a kid to always eat the entirety of the food he was given by calling it a full-blown “duty.”
“Never mind that. Let’s just go see the flowers. They really might bloom any moment now,” he dodged again, summoning and mounting a personal transporter. Then he tendered a hand to Lafier. “C’mon.”
“Okay.” Lafier wasn’t entirely satisfied, but she too stepped aboard. The transporter then began to shuttle them forward.
The ship they were currently on
