so its been awhile huh. i uh. lost motivation. but hey im back so pleasedonthurtme

anyways i heard the chapter of hundred meetings 'of first contact' was popular, so im working on a continuation. itll be short, only a few chapters, but its something. i built too big a universe for this to stay a oneshot

so here we go! two more chapters after this to go

also in case you couldnt tell, you might wanna read the above mentioned chapter before you read this. it wont make sense otherwise


"I'm gonna go explore," Press said once they arrived back at the bombed-out building. "I'll be back in about six hours. That sound good to you? Enough time to draw? I don't know how much time you'll need, I'm not an artist."

Bobby nodded, glancing behind him. "Yeah, that's good. I'm good. Thanks. You can go now." He sat down on the ground, pulling out the sketchbook and charcoal he brought to keep up appearances and waiting for Press to leave.

He hung around a moment, looking for something Bobby might need help with. After confirming that yes, Bobby has his pulse rifle and yes, his rations are bundled in his pack, he won't forget to eat in a few hours, Press tromped off through the woods, compass in hand.

Bobby waited for the sounds of movement to fade, then shot to his feet. Throwing his materials back in his pack, he ran into the building and called out.

"Dane! I'm back!" he shouted. "Uncle Press is gone too, so you don't have to worry about hiding!"

The alien darted out from a doorway nearby and scooped Bobby up in a hug, spinning him around high in the air. Bobby kicked his feet, laughing, until he was set back down. Dane crouched in front of him, pressing their foreheads together. His tendrils wound around Bobby's neck and the connection sparked to life.

I see someone missed me, Bobby joked.

Fondness seeped through the mental link, tinged with pink affection. I have been alone for four millennia. Any sight is a welcome one.

Bobby laughed again, pushing Dane's shoulder. Just admit it. I'm irresistable.

Yes, you are.

He flushed, embarrassed, and Dane chuckled before continuing. Your mind is unlike any other I know. It is complex, latching onto my methods and patterns without hesitation. Where another creature would feel overwhelmed, you thrive. You are fascinated. Your mind is beautiful.

Bobby did feel overwhelmed, though for a different reason. The praise the alien kept showering him with was accompanied by flashes of color; waves of yellow happiness, orange pride, the pale pink tinges of affection and something darker, deeper red that Bobby couldn't quite place. He chased that red feeling, closing his eyes and pushing against it. It enveloped him, warm, burning in its intensity, before suddenly disappearing.

Bobby felt a locked door spring between him and the color, the feeling he so desperately wanted to explore, to understand. His eyes opened of their own accord, gazing up into the mild panic expressed in Dane's eyes.

The look disappeared as well, masked by curiosity and affection. Golden flitted on the edges of Bobby's vision, but he pushed past it and asked a question he'd been wondering. "What about you? I know a little about your world and how it ended, what about you?"

Dane shook his head, dislodging his feelers from where they rested delicately on Bobby's neck. They returned, an air of diffidence ghosting in his mind. My past is as plain and boring as my appearance. Any excitement in it came from when my world fell, and that is a subject too painful to relive so soon.

Soon? Bobby wondered. Dude, it's been like four thousand years. How long do you guys even live?

The Aula'in usually live up to ten thousand years, most of them longer, Dane thought after a moment of hesitation. That is, naturally. War tends to shorten that drastically.

Bobby winced. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry again.

Dane scooped the smaller one up in his arms, rising to his full height. Bobby clung to his shoulders so he didn't fall. The feelers wrapped around his neck, delicate end pressing to his temples, throwing the dark cathedral into sharp relief. Everything shimmered with a faint golden sheen, silver tracing the edge of his vision.

The alien brought them over to a stone bench near the pedestal filled with liquid, lowering himself until they sat together, Bobby cradled in his lap. His tail curled around, resting on Bobby's knees, the bioluminescence-speckled skin dazzling in its brightness.

He ran his hand down the blazing trail of light that followed Dane's spinal cord, fingers tracing the constellations picked out with bright stars of light. Long, slender arms pulled him into a cool chest, light grey skin contrasting with the dark blue of his skintight planetside suit. Bobby pulled his gloves off, dropping them on the bench and running his hand along the tail in his lap again. The skin was cool to the touch and soft, but sturdy when he pressed down with his palm. It felt like petting a stingray, if the description Spader had given him was accurate, but less slimy.

"Your skin is really soft," Bobby murmured.

Dane chuckled, leaning back against the stone wall. One of his hands played in Bobby's hair, the three digits sliding pleasantly against his scalp. Bobby sighed, reaching up for one of the feelers that rested on his collarbone and twining it around his fingers. The color tinging his vision faded as part of the connection was lost, but not before sharp red flooded what he saw.

Bobby gasped at the same time as Dane. He turned in the alien's lap, a questioning tone to his thoughts.

The third eye, which usually sat wide open and unblinking, taking in all it saw from the middle of his slanted forehead, was now half-lidded and darkened. Navy blue swirled in its depths, blocking out the glittering ice color it usually was. Dane's other two eyes were wide, darker as well but not as dark.

Enough of that. Dane clasped his hand, lowering it from where it fiddled with the tentacle. His mental voice echoed in Bobby's head. You know not what you do.

Bobby gulped, nodding. Nervous energy bubbled under his skin, but he couldn't tell whose it was. He lowered his hand, now contained within the larger, smoother hand of the alien. Bioluminescent markings speckled the back of the hand, faint glowing lines tracing his veins in light blue and gold. Bobby distracted himself from the weird feeling in his gut by tracing them with his free hand.

Sorry. Man, he seemed to be apologizing a lot around Dane.

The alien hummed through their connection. His voice was quiet in Bobby's head, contemplative. No need. You did not know.

As an apology for snapping, Dane seemed to be softer with the colors he washed over Bobby. Pale pink and yellow, delicate orange and blue, all the colors of a sunrise filled his head, making his fingers tingle where they lay intertwined with Dane's own. Light grey bloomed into silver, forest green curiosity threading through the colors as the alien explored his mind. Lavender pressed upon him, the color of preciousness, and Bobby giggled at the idea that someone thought him precious.

The tingling rose up his arms, encompassing his shoulders and then his chest, wrapping around him in a hug warmer than the alien's. It fuzzed his mind, making his thoughts wander more than usual. Bobby felt like he was floating, the comforting colors supporting him and carrying him away from his worries.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, but the next thing he was aware of was a cold wetness on his fingers. His eyes slipped open, half-mast, barely aware of his hands being dipped in the pedestal of liquid. He looked up and around; they had risen at some point, Dane carrying him over to the pedestal. Some part of his brain should have worried at what was happening, but the warmth and affection Dane kept projecting onto his mind numbed all other thoughts. He let his hands dip into the liquid.

Dane cupped his hands under Bobby's, keeping the liquid from dripping out. He met Bobby's eyes, his third eye unblinking, bright and glittering in the low light of the destroyed building. It hypnotized Bobby, soothing his already low level of worry. It was beautiful.

He didn't realize his hands were being raised to his lips until it was almost too late.

"Hey!"

The liquid splashed back into the small pool, leaving no trace it was in Bobby's hands. He blinked, unsteady. Dane had leapt back at the shout, and was now baring too-sharp teeth at the intruder.

Uncle Press raised his pulse rifle. His glare looked even deadlier.

"Step away from my nephew, you monster." he growled, his voice echoing across the few yards between them. He took a step forward and Bobby saw Dane's tendrils flare out in his periphery.

"Wait!" he called, throwing out a hand to stop his uncle's advance. "He's friendly! Don't attack!"

"Friendly?" Press spat. "Do you know who that is?"

Bobby looked at Dane, who looked dangerous. He glanced down at the human boy and softened a little. The lights along his chest flickered uneasily.

"No, not really," Bobby admitted. "But I know he's safe. I've been meeting here with him the past couple days-"

"That's why you wanted to come back?!" Press looked shocked, then worried. "Bobby, can't you see? It's been brainwashing you!"

Anger flooded into him. "No, he's not! I've been inside his head, he's totally harmless!"

"And it's been in your head, too," Press groaned. He shifted his rifle from hand to hand, speaking quickly. "That creature is a threat to everyone around it. I'll bet you asked why there's no more of its kind around here, didn't you?" Bobby had barely nodded before he plunged on. "And it told you some sob story about some monster that came and destroyed everything and killed everyone, but forgot to leave out the fact that it was that monster."

Bobby gasped, spinning around to look at Dane. His face was carefully blank, smooth features expressionless. He looked at Bobby, making no move to do anything, then glanced back at Press, who continued.

"This vile creature before you brainwashed its victims by planting seeds of love and affection in their minds, drawing them deeper into its web each time their minds connected. It told them they were special, they were deserving, they were amazing. Then through some freaky mind tricks it lulled them into a sense of safety and security, and made it drink that liquid there." He pointed to the pedestal, looking so innocent in the setting light of the sun.

"Once it got them to drink that, its victim's mind would be completely open and vulnerable. Vulnerable for a hungry spider like it to suck all their personality dry, feeding on their emotions and experiences, sucking their very life force out until they were nothing but a dry, brain-dead husk." He huffed, hands tightening on his weapon. "And for a species so dependent on their powerful minds, the trauma from that killed their bodies too.

"That's also what made him survive this long while everyone else died out," Press continued. "All the life he drained from the others went straight to himself. The Aula'in-that's what he is-are only supposed to live a century, max. This one, with the lives of a million tucked into his own, survived much longer than is natural. And when we came along, he was probably starving."

Press raised his gun. There was movement from Bobby's side. Before his weapon was fully up, Dane was upon him. He attacked viciously, tearing the pulse rifle from his hands and throwing it down. Press went to grab for it, but the alien pushed him hard, sending him sprawling across the floor. Bobby stepped forward, but Press was already back on his feet, his decades of training kicking in and saving him.

He dashed out of the way as Dane pounced, landing where he'd been a moment before. The alien dwarfed him, nearly twice his height, but Press's smaller size was to his advantage. He weaved between Dane's long legs and arms, darting out the other side and just out of his reach. Pulling his knife out of his boot, he lunged at the alien.

...Who turned and slashed back at him, long, deadly claws extending from his fingertips. Press dodged, missing the worst of the hit, but one claw caught on his shoulder and ripped a huge hole in his spacesuit. He clutched at his arm, checking for blood. There was none, but the brief distraction was all Dane needed.

He leapt at Press, bowling him over and pinning him to the ground. His tail lashed in the air, angry red streaks of light racing along his skin as his jellyfish hair flared up and whipped around his head. He hissed, a terrifying sound that shocked Bobby to his core.

Press twisted, struggling to dislodge the giant. Dane moved with him, keeping his arms and legs pinned with barely any effort. He bared his teeth and hissed again. All three of his eyes were dark and narrowed in hatred, outlined by angry red lights. He lowered his head, teeth aiming for Press's throat.

Moving quickly, Press shot his head forward, intending to headbutt the alien. Dane was too fast for him, dodging out of the way before he made contact. An audible growl seemed to start deep in his chest, something low and horrible, so obviously not of this world. Press blanched, then set his teeth.

Darting forward again, he clamped his teeth around one of the delicate tendrils and yanked, tearing it straight off.

Dane howled silently, bioluminescence flaring white and burning Bobby's eyes. The alien fell back, clutching the spot on his head where the tendril had been. A light blue liquid seeped from between his fingers, staining his grey skin and muting the rapidly blinking lights on his head. All three eyes were clenched tightly shut against the pain, and Bobby could almost feel the agony Dane was in.

Press dashed to where his rifle lay, scooped it up, and in one quick movement, turned and fired.

An agonizing screech sounded from the depths of Dane's chest. An unnatural, horrifying sound of torment, as the energy blast ripped through his shoulder. Red lights dimmed around the wound, blue blood bubbling and sizzling as it met the charged air around the opening.

Another pull of the trigger and Dane screeched again, a new wound opening on his leg. He fell to his side on the ground, clutching the leg as close to his body as his inverted joints would allow. More blood spattered across the stones before the wound cauterized itself, the sheer torture from it all making Dane's lights flash brighter in the spots they were still visible.

Press aimed his gun one last time, but found his view blocked by Bobby.

He was breathing hard, eyes wide open. He felt like he was hyperventilating. The sight behind him was burned into his retinas. He felt sick.

"P-Please," he whispered, throat dry as he forced the words out, "that's, that's enough. He's done, please just. S-Stop."

His uncle slowly lowered the gun. He glanced behind the boy at the tormented alien. The unnatural noises had tapered off, Dane now suffering silently. His skin was anything but silent, angry red flashing in patterns across the surface, but slowly slowing down. It was a pitiful sight.

"He's already going to die," Bobby tried again. "There's nothing he can do. Please just stop." His voice was getting stronger, but his will was fading fast. He was going to throw up soon, he had to fight to keep it down.

He and his uncle had a staring contest that lasted only a few moments before Press eased off the trigger. He slung the pulse rifle over his shoulder and spat on the ground Dane was lying on. "Rot in Hell, you monster," he bit out, then turned on his heel. "Bobby. Come."

Bobby turned back, relieved. Worry immediately flooded him when he saw the state Dane was in. his lights were dimming fast, and he had stopped struggling. He lay prone on the cold ground, blood seeping through the cauterized wounds on his shoulder and leg. His eyes were half-lidded, staring off into nothing. He clearly didn't have much time left.

Bobby stepped forward, not know what to do to help, but needing to do something.

"Bobby!" Press yelled. "Now!"

Reluctantly, Bobby abandoned the fatally injured alien and ran to his uncle's side. Press grabbed his shoulder and pushed him ahead. Bobby winced at his angry tone.

"We are going back to the ship and you are to be confined to your quarters until we're out of orbit, and that is final." He pushed Bobby ahead as the boy slowed, still wanting to stay and help Dane. "That alien brainwashed you and I cannot have you sneaking off to help him until we're out of his range. Loor will stand guard, to make sure you don't sneak away when I leave."

Bobby wasn't listening. He felt a pull in his mind, yes, but something was tugging his heart to make him stay too. Dane was in pain, agonizing pain, and Bobby had come to care about the strange alien in only a few days. He needed to help him, before something bad happened. He didn't have much time left. He glanced over Press's shoulder as they exited the dilapidated building.

The last thing he saw of Dane was his curled up, destroyed body on the floor next to the pedestal.