A weak, cold star shone down on the frozen planet of Hielo VII. Amidst the harsh, freezing winds and cutting flurries of the ice rock's surface lay a small Hylotl settlement, shielded from the horrid chills by a high-tech Enviro-Protection Generator that kept the town enveloped in a bubble of warmth. Within a pagoda-like house noticeably larger than the others, a Hylotl sat, locked in conversation with an Avian.

"Can I trust you with this? You need to know what you're getting into," the Hylotl, an ancient and grizzled one, said severely to the blue bird in the room with him.

The Avian nodded in response. "Fill me in once more."

The Hylotl drew a breath. "A Floran has recently showed up here. We know nothing about him other than his name, Isai. Just yesterday, a warning was sent out by the Floran colony over on the forest planet Tserof III, the colony that Isai originally was a part of. The reason we are so on-edge about this one singular convict is because Tserof III's Florans are known for being especially violent, even for their own culture. If someone like Isai is too much even for them, well... I don't want to think about what he's capable of.

"I am a veteran blacksmith," the Hylotl continued, "I will reward you with several thousand pixels and personally refurbish your armor if you do us a favor and dispatch him. No Hylotl here wants that terrorist on our planet."

The Avian didn't think twice. He nodded. "I've faced much worse enemies than a Floran; I can take him. I won't let your town fall victim to him, trust me."

The Hylotl nodded in understanding. "Just be careful. The dangerously low temperatures of this place should have especially worse effects on a Floran like him than anyone else, so he's bound to be especially weak, but tread lightly nonetheless."

"I understand," the Avian replied. Almost as soon as he did, a bright red beam slid through the roof tiles and struck down next to the two. As soon as the beam impacted, it materialized into a well-armed Apex soldier.

Turning to face the Avian, the Apex grunted. "My name is Winston. I'm here to help you deal with Isai."

The Avian stared, then nodded. Turning back to the old Hylotl, he queried, "Where is Isai?"

"Our scouts say he was last seen at an abandoned campfire to the east of here."

At that, the Avian brushed past the Hylotl and towards the exit. As he pushed open the elegantly-crafted door, however, the Hylotl called after him, "Before you go, I must ask: What was your name again? I didn't catch it last time."

The Avian stopped. Looking over his shoulder, he replied, "My name is Chtepil. What's yours, sir?"

"Hirojoshi," the reddish-orange Hylotl answered. "Please, Chtepil, tread with caution. If you feel you and Winston cannot take Isai, Winston has a spare Teleporter the two of you can use to beam to his base."

"I will, Hirojoshi," Chtepil said solemnly. "Let's go," he added to Winston, exiting the building as he re-activated his EPP. Hirojoshi watched them go, anxiousness tightening his stomach. "I hope I did not just sent those two to their deaths," he uttered grimly to himself.

The dim campfire flickered softly. Within the flimsy shelter of a broken tent, a lone Floran sat, shivering violently. A hiss-like whimper escaped his lips as the cold bit into him. It almost felt as cold as the hearts of his fellow Florans back at home.

"You're not welcome here anymore, Isai," they had said. "This colony hasss no room for you. Leave, and never come back. We have releassed a warning acrosss the galaxy speaking of you. Everyone shall heed it. You can try to stay alive, but you won't for long."

Isai growled. "Why?" he hissed as he watched the flames dance, bitterness heavy in his voice. "What did... what did Floran do to dessserve this?" But even as he asked himself that question, Isai knew the answer. His violence was not the same as theirs. He shared a different love for fighting, and they couldn't tolerate that. Floran bloodshed was uniform if not anything else, and he was anything but. He couldn't fight the way he wanted to fight.

Isai moaned as a shiver racked him. His delicate plantlike biology was not built for this type of cold, but the broken Teleporter his former comrades had chucked him to help him leave their planet had brought him here then exploded, leaving him stuck inside this old, abandoned tent, praying he didn't die of hypothermia.

Sorrow racked Isai as he thought of his colony on Tserof III. He loved his Floran brothers and sisters, and though he knew he would be better off without them and their quick-to-exclude ways, he still missed them deeply and felt hurt by their actions. The fact that they would just disown him for his actions was almost unbelievable. It physically pained Isai just thinking about it—then again, maybe that was just the stinging cold.

Isai's sadness was interrupted by the sound of voices, almost carried away by the wind. Isai peeked his head outside of his ripped tent and spotted two figures heading towards him. One was an Avian, one an Apex, and both heavily armed.

They were looking for him. And now they had found him.

"There he is!" Winston cried.

Chtepil took a few more moments to steel himself, then unsheathed his sword, charging forward and lunging at Isai. His leap was interrupted by an electricity-filled shotgun slug colliding with his shoulder with enough force to stop him mid-air and send him sprawling. Pain ripped through Chtepil's shoulder as Winston flashed by him, two fire-spitting handguns at the ready. Gunshots permeated the wintry air, the two enemies exchanging a flurry of elementally-enhanced bullets.

Gasping in pain, Chtepil looked at the slugged shoulder. Though it hurt like hell and he probably wouldn't be able to use it, his busted-up Quail chestpiece had miraculously kept the wound from being life-threatening. Through the red-stained feathers, Chtepil could not make out the glint of any metals inside the wound. It was clean and shrapnel-free.

Hauling himself to his feet, he dropped his heavy broadsword, unable to wield it with his injured shoulder. Fumbling through his various external holsters for any sort of one-handed weapon, he looked up from his panicked rummaging just in time to see Isai pump a slug into Winston's stomach. Winston's armor was much better than Chtepil's, and he was left only winded by the deadly blast, but it was more than enough to knock him back.

Chtepil finally felt the sharp edges of a handful of frozen shurikens. Whipping them out into the air, he loosed three of them at Isai in a tight fan. Two of them struck Isai in his unarmored side, and the Floran screamed in pain. Taking this precious moment, Chtepil dashed over to where Winston lay groaning in pain. Snatching up one of his pistols, he aimed back up at Isai and fired. The flame-infused bullets burst upon impact with Isai's flesh, coating the areas they struck with a sticky, napalm-like blaze. Isai dropped his shotgun in a panic, trying to put out the small fires before the wind caught them and ignited the Floran.

Seeing his chance, Chtepil unsheathed a small dagger, running in low at Isai's legs. With a caw of fury, the light-blue Avian sank the knife deep into Isai's calf. The Floran fell over backwards in a screech of agony, coming to a crash on the snowy ground.

With the Floran now grounded, Chtepil picked his shotgun off the ground. Struggling to hold it steady with his injured shoulder, he aimed it at the fallen Isai. The Floran regained his bearings and looked into Chtepil's eyes. Chtepil expected to see a look of defiance; a "go ahead and do it" grin, but instead was caught off guard when he saw a look of pure, unfiltered fear on Isai's face.

In the noise of the whipping wind, Chtepil could barely hear Isai whisper, "Please don't."

Behind him, Chtepil heard Winston call out, "What are you waiting for? Do it!"

Chtepil shook his head out vigorously, pointing the shotgun at Isai's head. "You won't be terrorizing anybody anymore," he growled, his finger wrapping around the trigger.

"No! Please!" Isai gasped, terror alight in his eyes. "Floran can explain! Hear Floran out, and you'll undersstand!"

"Don't listen to him!" Winston called. "He's just trying to weasel his way out of this! Shoot him!"

"Floran isss good person, really!" Isai protested. "Drop the weapon and Floran will drop their weapon! Just hear Isssai out, please!"

Chtepil shook his head, though something felt off about doing so. "I don't believe it for a second," he said, lining up the shotgun's sights. "This is goodbye for you, Isai."

Isai screamed. "No! Nonononono please no! Don't shoot! Floran begsss you!" The Floran's arms covered his head as he shied away from Chtepil, whimpering plaintively. "Floran doesssn't want to die! Jusst hear Floran out! The other Floran—they lied! Isssai is not a brutal killer, Isai sswears on it!"

Looking at the plant-person on the ground, beaten up, head in his hands and crying as he begged for dear life—pity and confusion gripped Chtepil's chest. Suddenly killing Isai didn't seem too easy to do. Stepping back from the hysterical Floran, he let go of the trigger, tossing the shotgun into the snow.

Winston came up behind him, apparently having recovered from the slug to the stomach. "What the bloody hell are you doing? Have you gone mad? Kill the bastard!"

Chtepil shook his head. "Look at him," he replied, gesturing towards the whimpering Floran. "Someone as deranged and violent as Hirojoshi described wouldn't act like this, even in the face of death. Something doesn't add up."

Winston scoffed. "Yeah, so he makes a mither out of dying. Being a psycho doesn't mean you're not afraid of death, now does it? 'Course he's gonna act like a coward; his miserable life's about to end!"

"No," Chtepil protested. "There's something here that's off. I have a feeling Isai might not be lying when he says he's not a murderer." When Winston looked doubtful, Chtepil continued. "Floran are defenseless without proper weaponry. Looking at him now, it seems his only weapons are his shotgun and his spear. If we can get him to take his spear off himself and then make sure he has nothing else, he'll be safe to deal with." Turning to the Floran, who still was trying to shield himself from the killing blow that had not come, the Avian called out, "Isai, get up."

Isai glanced at him, face stained with tears. "Wh-what?"

"Get up off the ground, throw your spear away from your person, and put your hands in the air."

Isai looked at him for a second more, as if his terrified mind couldn't process it. Then he was scrambling to do as he was told, and within moments, his spear was on the ground and his hands over his head. Chtepil could see he was struggling to stand; the knife was still buried in his leg.

Chtepil flicked his head to Winston as he drew the pistol he had taken from the Apex. "I have your back; go frisk him," he ordered.

Winston snorted. "You're fucking nuts," he said, but did as he was told, slowly creeping towards the trembling Isai with his other handgun at the ready, Chtepil watching with his sidearm trained on Isai's head. Once Winston was within arms reach of the Floran, he holstered his pistol and went behind him, using his hands to pad him down for several seconds before pulling a punch dagger out from Isai's hide vest. Pocketing it, he turned to Chtepil and called, "He's clean."

Nodding, Chtepil lowered his gun. "Come inside the tent with us," he told Isai, "and explain to us why the Tserof III Florans had issued an interstellar warning about you."

Isai nodded with vigor. "Of courssse!" he replied eagerly, limping over to the tent. "Floran will be more than happy to explain the ssssituation!"

"I sure hope so," said Chtepil grimly, as he followed Isai and Winston into the shabby little tent.

"Alright, explain yourself, Floran!" Winston demanded, gun in one hand, the knife Chtepil had used to stab Isai in the other.

Isai whimpered in fear. "I-I-I..."

Chtepil placed a hand on Winston's aiming arm. "Easy," he breathed. Turning back to the Floran, he gently said, "Take as much time as you need to explain yourself, Isai."

Isai nodded hastily, fear still very bright in his eyes. "Floran wass, er... Floran wass exiled—but you know that already. But you don't know the real reason Floran was exiled. Floran will tell you as best he can.

"It iss true that Floran is violent, Floran will not deny that. And Floran was kicked out because other Floran did not agree with his violence. But it'ss not because Floran is some kind of crazy murderer like the messssage from them probably says. It is actually the opposite: Floran was less violent than fellow colony memberss, and was rejected for it."

Winston scoffed, a scowl on his face. "Sounds super contrived. You're telling me you got kicked out because you were a friendly chap? Bullshit."

Panic sparked in Isai's gaze. "Isai isss telling the truth, promise!" he cried out. "Do not hurt Floran!"

"Let him talk," Chtepil ordered Winston. "And get your gun out of his face. He's only just started to explain himself."

Hesitantly, Winston lowered the weapon, but kept the dagger in a tight grip. Looking at Isai, Chtepil queried, "So you say you were softer than other Florans, but at the same time you still advocate violence. In what way are you not as violent?"

"Other Floran take it to next level," Isai replied. "Isai is a... what isss the word?... What do you call ssomeone who likesss to go out and brawl a lot?"

"A scrapper, maybe?" Chtepil proposed.

Isai nodded eagerly. "Yesss! Sscrapper! Isai was a sscrapper! Quick and blunt fights were sssuper fun to have, and Floran sstill likes them to thisss day! But..." Isai's gaze darkened. "The other Floran... their favorite part of a fight wasn't the fight. It was..." Isai winced, then hurried to regain himself. "It wass the kill."

"Tserof III Floran are not sscrappers. They are killers. Murderers. They wanted to feel the life drain from prey, to press their tongues to their victimsss' ripped necks and slowly, almost sssensually, lap up their blood as it flowed from their throat. Their violence was beyond the virtuesss held in Floran culture. It wass... savagery. Inssanity. The more permanently red your ssskin was from rubbing your victims' blood into it assss they watched, the more honored you were."

Winston's narrowed eyes widened. "Bloody hell," he mumbled. "That sounds like a clan of psychos... I think I'm starting to believe this guy. Only sane person in the nuthouse, apparently."

Isai continued. "Floran liked making clothes when he wasn't fighting. At firsst, other Floran did not care. Comfortable thingsss to wear were needed, after all. But then they sstarted to notice that Floran was the only one whossse skin was still entirely green. Maybe they had someone watch him, because they sssoon realized Floran never killed except for animals to eat. After that, well..."

Something inside Isai seemed to snap. He burst into tears and collapsed onto the ground, sobs racking his chest. "Floran thought they were his bothers! His sssisters! B-but they... they kicked Floran out! Told him that enemies were only good if they were dead, that he wasn't needed! They told Isssai that his life wass too worthless to be worthy of dying by their handss, that they would have someone else do it! Then they... they gave Floran a broken Teleporter and five ssseconds! Floran ended up here, and the friends back home told the galaxy that Floran needs to be killed!" Isai's despairing wails overpowered even the sound of the cutting winds. "Is that all Floran is? A reject? Floran doesssn't want to be reject!"

Something inside Chtepil broke too, seeing Isai sobbing into the ground. He stepped over to the Floran and gently pulled him off the ground, embracing him gently. "I believe you, Isai," he breathed into his ear slit. "And I'm so, so sorry."

Isai held Chtepil tightly, hysterically crying into his chest. Compared to the permanently sub-zero weather of Hielo VII, Isai's tears felt warm against Chtepil's feathers. Looking over at Winston, he said softly, "I want him to stay with me. He clearly needs protection if the entire galaxy thinks he needs killing."

Winston looked doubtful. "You're just gonna believe him like that?" he asked, somewhat incredulously. "It's pretty convincing, I'll give you that, but he's got no evidence! Are you just gonna take his word?"

Chtepil sighed. "Have you ever seen a movie with a Floran as a prominent character?" he asked.

Winston blinked. "What kind of question is that, mate? But no, I haven't."

"Let's just say that if there's one stereotype that's true, it's that Florans are terrible actors." Looking back down to the grief-racked Isai, Chtepil said softly to him, "Isai? Are you listening?"

Isai looked up at him. Chtepil felt a pang of pity ruffle his feathers at the Floran's miserable expression. Tears streamed down his frozen face, which looked like it was about to collapse into his skull. "Y-yes?" he sniffed, voice trembling.

Chtepil smiled warmly. "How would you like to live with people who will love you for who you are? Who will stand by you and help you keep yourself safe? Who will be your family when your real family chose not to?"

"... I-Isai would like that," the broken Floran whimpered.

"Then how would you like to hop on my ship and join my crew?"

Chtepil felt a glow as disbelief swept over Isai's face. "R-r... really?" Isai cried. "Join your crew? You mean... you mean you're not going to kill Floran?"

Chtepil shook his head. "Of course not," he replied. "Don't be so ridiculous. How could I, knowing what you've been through?"

Isai was silent for a split moment before bursting into a fresh round of tears, hugging Chtepil with a crazed fervor. "Yes!" he squealed. "Yesss! Thank you so, ssso much!"

Chtepil hugged him back, happiness shining in his chest. "It's nothing, Isai," he replied. "You said you spent your free time making clothes for your Floran friends? I could use a tailor. I would love to have an official crewniform."

Isai didn't respond, just kept sobbing into Chtepil's feathered chest, blubbering out a "Thank you ssso much" every couple of seconds.

Looking up at Winston, Chtepil said, "You can go collect your reward. I'll take care of Isai." Though he was clearly still on the fence, Winston got up and went outside, preparing to beam to his home base. As he disappeared in a flash of light, Chtepil heard him grunt, "Suit yourself, mate."

"Can you walk?" he asked Isai once he had calmed down a bit. "I did kind of, you know, sinkaknifeintoyourleg, but I have two medics on board who can take a look at you."

"F-Floran thinksssso," Isai replied shakily.

"Lean on me, just to be safe."

Isai complied, hoisting himself to his feet with a fair deal of help from his newfound Avian captain. Chtepil pushed the tent flaps aside, and tapped a glowing red square on the side of his upper arm. "Beam me up, Sail, and tell the rest of the crew we've got a new member."

"Affirmative," S.A.I.L. replied, and within seconds, he and the Floran were on the ship.

He was greeted by Alexa, the human medic of the crew. "Hello, captain! How did you—oh, you poor thing!" Alexa cut herself off as she noticed the battered Isai. Rushing to take him from Chtepil, she gently hobbled him over to the platform leading to the lower deck. "There's a medbay down below, sweetheart. I'll get you lied down, and Brightspark and I will be with you shortly."

Watching them go, Chtepil tapped the glowing square again. "Send me back down, Sail," he ordered. "I got explaining to do."

"Affirmative. Please be safe and concise as you commence with your explaining."

"... So, basically, what I'm trying to say is, I need your help to tell the entire Milky Way not to shoot Isai on sight," Chtepil explained to Hirojoshi.

The ancient Hylotl nodded in understanding. "I see. I will spread the message. Thank you for confronting this problem for us on Hielo VII. Would you like me to take your armor and refine it? It looks to be in bad shape."

Chtepil shook his head. "I was planning on taking to the Replicator anyway," he declined, "But I'll take those pixels you were offering if you can afford to lose them."

"Of course." From the confines of his pockets, Hirojoshi took out a 2K pixel unit, placing it into Chtepil's outstretched hand. "Use it well, young Avian."

"I will, sir. Thank you."

"No, thank you for bringing peace of mind to my village... and to Isai."

"It was nothing." A tap of the square. "Beam me up, Sail."

And with that, Chtepil disappeared in a flash of red light.

"Captain?"

Chtepil turned from where he sat at the captain's chair, directing the ship on its course to a temperate star. "What is it, Isai?"

The Floran looked down uncomfortably. "Since Floran isss a part of your crew now, Floran will need to communicate with them often. Ssso, Floran was thinking... Could captain help Floran, well, get better at English?

Chtepil blinked, then chuckled, turning back to the wheel. "Well, first things first, you gotta learn to use the first person instead of referring to yourself as 'Floran'. People understand you now, but it just isn't proper English, know what I mean?"

"Aw, goddammit! I left my good pistol on the fuckin' Avian!"
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