Christopher looked down at the little hatchling as it emerged and broke through its egg, the baby Prawn crawling out on all fours like an animal, the natural way that a new-born Prawn comes from its egg. Christopher thinks that human babies are much like that, at least from the best research that he could do when living in District 9. Though, from what he has learned, human babies don't start crawling until they are a few months old, and then they start walking a few more months afterwards.
It wasn't like that with new-born Prawns, they could crawl as soon as they left their egg, then they begin walking and talking a few days later. Humans and Prawns are species from entirely different planets, so Christopher shouldn't start judging them, especially as he still has some hope for humans and Prawns to live in harmony (even if he sometimes feels as though that hope is merely an iota). But researching humans was only something that Christopher did from time to time, he was (and still is) much more focussed on retrieving as much fuel for the mothership. Christopher can spend more time researching on humans when his people are saved.
Though with that said, Christopher never really knew what had brought him to have a child. Was it because of the instinct to reproduce that existed in most, if not all beings, regardless of what planet they came from? Did he feel like he needed a son purely because, no matter how much he wanted to focus on saving his kind, he still wanted to have children? Was it for someone to take on the work of collecting the fuel in case he was killed? Or was it that he couldn't stop himself from laying the egg and collecting the animal carcasses?
Christopher watched as his new-born child, his son, ate the egg that he came from. The green-shelled Prawn couldn't deny that he felt nothing but love for the hatchling, that he would do anything he can for his son, that he would protect him with his own life. Regardless of what it was that caused Christopher to lay the egg and help his baby develop to this point, he knew that he didn't regret it all in the slightest.
Christopher heard a high-pitched click come from his baby, the young Prawnling looking at him with big, blue eyes, his antennae twitching. The young Prawn was tentative, unsure to approach the towering figure in front of him. Christopher gave his new-born son a warm and welcoming smile, holding his arms out towards the Prawn.
"It's okay, little one." Christopher clicked welcomingly. "I am your father, I would never hurt you."
The baby Prawn crawled towards Christopher, the full-grown Prawn bending down to appear less towering towards his son. Christopher's son was now at his feet, looking up at the Prawn that he now knew as his parent, the new-born's eyes holding an emotion that Christopher couldn't quite read. Christopher reached out for his son, the Prawnling didn't even flinch as the long claws came near him, touching his own child's face. Christopher almost couldn't believe what was in front of him, his own flesh and blood. There was honestly nothing like it in the slightest; Christopher couldn't even begin to explain how happy he was.
Christopher's son curled into a ball, needing to rest after his efforts from his first few minutes of life. Christopher still faintly remembers when he was on his home planet, years before he had to go onto the mothership because his planet was facing problems of overpopulation, how his own parents told him that he slept in front of their feet shortly after he hatched from his egg.
"What am I going to name you?" Christopher asked his sleeping new-born, stroking their naked back. The door to Christopher's shack opened, revealing Paul, the yellow-black-shelled Prawn being surprised and then elated as he saw Christopher's son.
"Amazing, your child managed to survive and hatch." Paul clicked, almost rather loudly, causing Christopher to put on of his fingers in front of his mouth to let the Prawn know to be quiet, as loud noise would wake up the new-born. Paul covered his mouth with his hands, the other full-grown Prawn quietly approaching his friend until he was crouching down beside him. "It's an adorable little child, Victor and Joseph are going to freak when they see it. What are you planning on naming it?"
"Him, I think this is a male-type one of our species." Christopher clicked, not taking his eyes off of his son; the instinct to protect his young being fresh and strong in his mind. "I'm thinking of naming him Oliver, I like that name."
Christopher picked up and threw away the pieces of human technology and garbage as he searched for any pieces of his own technology that he could find, that he could use to collect fuel. He had already been searching for over a decade and a half, collecting every last drop of the fuel that he could find. Even if their Prawn fuel was all-purpose and could power well in abundance, he would still need much more to fuel the mothership for a flight travel that would last months, maybe even over a year.
As usual, Paul and Victor were aiding him. Joseph couldn't aid Christopher anymore, the poor Prawn having been shot by a Nigerian and having his corpse taken away. Christopher had heard rumours about what those Nigerians did with the Prawns they took, cutting them into pieces and eating them in the hope that it would give them power. Christopher wouldn't tell them that it was delusional of them to believe that, he knew that they would not only not listen to him but they would most likely cut him up and eat him. If Christopher wanted himself and his son to survive in District 9 until they collect enough fuel, they must ultimately be careful of the Nigerians, among other things in the district.
Oliver was also helping Christopher and his friends in finding the pieces of their technology. The young Prawn was doing it of his own accord, a fact that warmed Christopher's heart, that his son was willing to help. It was actually dangerous to be outside of one's own shack in District 9, but it was also dangerous for a Prawnling to be left without their parent(s) supervision, so Oliver was probably safer helping them. Still, Christopher made sure that Oliver wasn't too far from where he is.
"Hey, Chris, is this a part of our tech?" Victor asked, a red-shelled Prawn that Christopher befriended around half a decade ago, handing Christopher a damaged piece of technology. It was hard to determine which type of technology it was because of its damaged state, but Christopher was able to deduce that it was in fact a piece of Prawn technology.
"Yes, it is." Christopher clicked as he continued to hold onto the piece of metal, since we had nothing to hold it in, like a bag. "Good job, Victor."
Christopher and his friends and son returned to the Prawn's shack, not finding anymore of their tech among the pile of garbage they were searching, siphoning the fuel from the piece of technology and transferring it to the container. There were still many years of searching needed to get enough fuel, they would need a lot of it in comparison to the usual amount of it that they use if they plan to fly the large mothership back home. Though Christopher knows that in the end it will all be worth it. His people will be saved from this hellish shanty town, whenever it will be true unity with the humans or leaving this planet entirely.
"Why are we collecting all of this fuel?" Oliver asked, the little Prawn sitting down on the ground and watching the siphoning process that his dad and his friend were doing.
"It's so we can go home." Paul answered. Christopher heard once that humans sometimes bite the bottom of their lips when they are feeling nervous or some other emotion that is related to it. Christopher himself couldn't do it because he, as a Prawn, had no lips. Though if Christopher did have lips, he would certainly be biting his bottom half.
"Isn't this home?" Oliver asked, raising one of his supraorbital ridges. Christopher couldn't blame his son for thinking of District 9 as 'home', he was still only a few months old and had never heard of their original planet; for all Oliver could be sure, the Prawns had always lived on district 9 and the mothership was just something that always floated above.
"No, we come from another planet. Much better than District 9." Paul answered again. Christopher had to punch his friend in the upper arm, wishing that his friend had never said that; he didn't want his son to have hope that might never be lived up to.
"Really?!" Oliver clicked in amazement, quickly jumping up to his feet. "Will we be going home?"
"Maybe." Christopher answered. There were constants that were among children, regardless of their species or where they came from. One such constant is their curiosity. Another is their sense of innocence. And one that Oliver seemingly had in spades was the almost universal sense of optimism. It did admittedly make living in District 9 feel a little better, but Christopher wanted to keep his son's hopes down, because if his hopes are not met then he will feel broken. Christopher himself once had high hopes, much like his own son, if not even higher hopes; and when they broke, he felt like he was as shattered as they were.
Paul and Victor looked at Christopher, wondering why their friend didn't promise his son that they would definitely be returning home one day, that it would only be a maybe. Before either of the other two Prawns could ask their green-shelled friend, however, he gave them a look that silently told them to not say anything of it.
Oliver didn't look like his hope went away or broke, but it did show that it had lessened. The little Prawnling walked out of the room, deciding to play with a milk carton that he found in another part of the shack. Even though Prawns couldn't physically sigh, Christopher let out a series of clicks that were the Prawn equivalent of a sigh of relief. Christopher looked back at his friends; Victor looked confused while Paul looked rather angry. Christopher was not looking forward to what the yellow-black Prawn would have to say.
"Why did you only say 'maybe', Chris?!" Paul had all but yelled in the Prawn language. Christopher couldn't understand why Paul was so mad at him for not giving his son hope; admittedly, despite their close friendship, Christopher didn't know much about Paul's childhood. Though it was clear that no Prawn had a childhood that could truly be considered as a happy one.
"Because I don't want his hopes to be crushed if things don't go to plan." Christopher clicked in response. "Paul, nothing hurts a child more than when their hopes are crushed and destroyed. I want to live in peace with the humans, but I live in the fear that they could destroy our hope. If the canister is destroyed or emptied or taken away by the humans, our fuel can be permanently lost and our efforts throughout the years will be meaningless. I don't want my son to have so much hope about going home, only for all chances to be taken away forever. It would hurt him greatly, and in turn I would be hurt greatly. I would never be able to live if I saw my son looking as broken as any child would when they lose hope. That is why I must keep his hopes down."
Oliver's eyes were transfixed on the holographic projection of his home planet, the little Prawn child marvelling at the sight of what was home. Oliver knows that his dad would only say 'maybe' whenever he asked if they would be going back home (and he would keep on asking until he said 'yes'), but the little Prawnling couldn't help but feel excited at the though of going home.
The shack's door opened, Oliver looked from the hologram to see Christopher and Paul entering in through, but Victor was nowhere to be seen. Oliver's antennae twitched in confusion, where did Dad's friend go? Oliver turned the projector off, the young Prawn proceeding to look at his dad.
"Little One, could you please play outside." Christopher clicked, his voice having a sense of sadness that a child would have never picked up. Oliver listened to what his Dad said, deciding to ask about what happened to his Dad's friend later. "Little One, please don't go far from the shack."
Oliver nodded, the young Prawn exiting the shack. Christopher quickly looked through the window of his shack, feeling relieved to see his son sitting down outside, not far from the shack, playing with the milk carton that he uses as a toy. Christopher was even more relieved that there were gangsters or MNU officers outside. Christopher looked at Paul, the other Prawn looking like he is willing to go on a murderous rampage.
"Victor is dead." Paul clicked bluntly. Christopher knows that Victor is dead, he also saw the cut up remains of his friend being taken away by the Nigerians. They lowered their prices for their interspecies prostitution, the green-shelled Prawn kept on reminding his friend that he shouldn't engage in the interspecies sex, but Victor's curiosity and desire to experiment with the humans had led to him to go to it anyways. And now he is the Nigerians' dinner. Christopher understood that Paul wanted to bust in the Nigerians' lair and shoot them all, especially Obesandjo himself. Paul is meant to be a Fighter Prawn, which are usually more aggressive.
And even though Christopher, too, wanted to avenge his friend, he was a Commander Prawn and thus more in control of his emotions. And even though he definitely wanted to destroy something in his anger, Christopher knew that trying to get revenge on the Nigerians was a bad idea. "I know, Paul, I saw it myself. I also want to get revenge for what they did to Victor, but I know that they constantly have guns on them and are more than willing to retaliate when attacked. With our years of collecting and my new son, we cannot risk either of us dying. Our numbers have already been lowered down to you and I. And maybe my son."
"Can I at least destroy something?!" Paul clicked as a yell.
"Not inside the shack." Christopher clicked back. The tall, green-shelled Prawn walked to where the silver container was stored, checking it to make sure that none of the fuel was lost. Christopher put the silver canister back to where it is stored, the Prawn silently walking to the gadgets that he managed to make and salvage throughout the years that he was confined to District 9. "I'm thinking of teaching my son that human language. English."
It was strange for the Prawns. Their native language, one that lacked a true name as their species had lacked a name itself, was known and learnt through time as they grow older and older. But with English, or 'the human language' as they usually called it, it was something that they didn't learn naturally. Of course, for the first few years it was hard for Prawns to learn to understand English, much like how hard it was for the humans to understand the Prawns' native language. The problem of both languages being physically impossible for both species to speak made understanding each other hard. Even though it was settled that they could still understand each other's language to a degree, new-born Prawns often spoke their native language and would have to be taught to understand English, usually for when they grow up. And if Oliver were to grow up around humans or have to speak with the humans, he'll have to understand English.
"How do you plan on teaching your son the human language?" Paul asked. "We can't speak it; you would need help from a human to help your son understand the human language."
"Our neighbours were able to teach their children English without the help of a human, so I should be able to do the same." Christopher clicked in response.
There was a silence in the shack, Christopher looked at the computer screens, displaying data related to the ship beneath his shack, the ship that he would have to keep as a secret and safe if he ever wanted to return home and save his people.
"You know that the MNU will have to stamp your son, right?" Paul clicked.
Christopher had stopped in what he was doing, letting out a chorus of clicks that were a sigh. "I know. I have a licence." Christopher responded.
Christopher hated it, honestly. It was one thing to get a licence to legally have a child without the MNU setting it on fire for population control, but some time after birth the Prawnling will have to be marked as 'Property of MNU'. Christopher hated the idea of having to be marked as the 'property' of the humans, especially the MNU. His species have met many others during their many travels across the universe and galaxies due to there being too many of them for their planet and the moons that they colonised, and his species had always came to be equals to the other species. But the MNU always made them have a mark on the side of their heads that literally means that they are their property, like they are inferior.
Not equals to the humans, but treated as inferior to them.
And Christopher quite honestly hated that he and the rest of his kind, including the children - including his own son - all had to be mark as their property. But the repercussions for refusing to be stamped were dire, to say the least, so it was the better of two options. Christopher wouldn't call himself an optimist, but he guesses he could look on the bright side of being marked. He just wishes the bright side wasn't so glum.
The least that Christopher could do, when he brings his son to be marked as the MNU's property, is tell him that he was going to be like his dad and friends. That might get Oliver excited for it, it could at least make it a little better for everyone.
Christopher could feel his blood boil, growling silently as he saw his son come out of the MNU room, a white stamp on the side of his little head that marked him as those humans' property. Christopher wanted to rip the stamp off, how can any parent stand to see their child marked as the possession of someone else, especially one that they despised.
Now Christopher only despised the MNU, not humanity as a whole. There was once a time where he believed that all humans were like MNU, but certain humans had shown him that they weren't all the same. That is why Christopher hopes that one day his people can live in peace with the humans.
Christopher quickly grabbed his son's hand and began heading back to their shack in District 9, the MNU worker that marked Oliver not even caring as the two Prawns began heading back to the slums. Christopher had to keep his hand around Oliver's as they walked through District 9 this time around, as more of their kind was out and moving around. Most of them were Fighter Prawns, they were often throwing around discarded human trash or firing some weapons that they somehow got their hands on, all of it was done aimlessly.
Christopher let go of his son's hand and wrapped his arm around the youngling, especially as some wandering Prawns began looking at him with eyes of an unreadable emotion. Even though Christopher is intelligent, by both human and Prawn standards, he is still like all intelligent beings; primal instincts still exist in him. Thus, even though he wasn't quite proud of it, he did growl and roar at the wandering Prawns that came to close to him and his son. It at least proved to be successful, as the other Prawns would become spooked and walk away without becoming violent and attacking him.
Christopher's antennae became erect as he heard a scratching sound, the green-shelled Prawn looking to see his son scratching at the white MNU stamp on the side of his head. "Oliver, what are you doing?! You must stop that." Christopher clicked frantically, grabbing hold of the hand his son was using to scratch at his stamp. Christopher did hate the stamp on his son's head, but if it is scratched off then it is against the regulations that MNU had created (which, unsurprisingly, was something that Christopher also hates), and the MNU wouldn't spare even young children from the punishments they would give to Prawns that broke their rules.
It left a putrid taste in his mouth.
"It itches, Father." Oliver said, trying to scratch the stamp again.
"I know, Little One, I know." Christopher responded, bringing his son with him to a pile of discarded garbage where none of the other Prawns were, moving down onto one knee and keeping his hands on Oliver's shoulders. "My stamp itched when I first got it. I don't like any of our people having these stamps, but it is what the humans want."
"Humans are strange." Oliver commented, there was no hatred or malice in his voice; it was just what he thought. "There are those humans here that drive around and always fire their guns. Then there are the humans from outside that go around in those big helicopters and other vehicles and always wearing that weird symbol. Then there are the other humans from outside that are always yelling something in their language at the humans always wearing that weird symbol and holding signs that say things in their language."
Christopher's eyes widened in surprise; he wasn't all to sure of where his son would go or what he would do when he let him play far from the shack, but he didn't expect his son to come across the human-Prawn activists. Though those humans were much preferred than him coming across one of the Nigerians or someone from the MNU, after all those humans were the ones that kept Christopher's faith in his kind and their kind living as equals. Those activists would definitely not hurt Oliver, after all they were fighting (in what way they can) for his kind to finally be free of District 9 and live among the rest of the people of this world.
"You probably don't know what those humans are saying, don't you?" Christopher asked, knowing that he hasn't taught his son English yet.
"Nope." Oliver answered, shaking his head from side to side. "But once when I was watching them, one of the adult Prawns came by and told me that they are angry that we are living here. Their yells and their signs are about that we should be set free and that they love us. Father, are those humans okay?"
"Yes, Little One. Yes they are." Christopher responded, patting his son on the head. "They are humans that are not like the humans with the guns. They like us and are proof that not all humans are evil. They don't like that we are living in these conditions, they want us to be their equals, they want us to be living in good homes where we are given fair treatment; with proper housing and electricity and food."
Oliver's eyes widened in surprise, lighting up in excitement. "Will we be living among them then?" Oliver asked excitedly, almost bouncing up and down. Christopher felt concern, knowing that he could never promise his son anything, even when he gets excited for something. "Will we be taking them with us when we go home?"
'If more humans were like the activists, we probably wouldn't even need to go home.' Christopher thought, looking down at his son solemnly. "I don't know, Little One."
Oliver seemingly shrugged at his father's words, the young Prawn moving his hand up to scratch the itchy area of his head were the stamp was, but was once again stopped by his father. "Why are all humans so different?" Oliver asked, his little antennae twitching. "I know a lot of us look different, but not as much as the humans look different to each other. So of them look completely different from each other, like they are different species, but I can still tell they are humans. And their language is weird, I can't understand any of it, but it keeps on sounding like they are changing it. And some of them don't know what it is."
"Humans are different than us, Little One. We come from a different galaxy. They are one of the few species that have unique appearances from each other, and yet all can be recognised as a part of the same species." Christopher clicked in response, sitting down next to his son. The older Prawn looked around the area that they sat at, as well as listened out for sounds. There were no other Prawns about, no MNU goons lurking by nor any of the Nigerians hoping to chop him and his son up. It was just them, him and his son. A moment in District 9 where he didn't have to fear for his own safety or the safety of his child. "Humans are a complex species with complex vocal cords. From what I have recently learned from a book about humans I found, humans apparently have different languages. That's why some humans don't understand each other, and why it sounds like they keep on changing their language; because they don't have a universal language."
"If humans speak different languages, how are they able to live in peace?" Oliver asked.
"I don't know, Little One. I don't even know if all humans really do live in peace with each other." Christopher clicked in response, remembering everything that he has managed to look up and learn about humans. "Humans don't always see eye to eye. They have had wars against each other because of different reasons. There are some humans that can't imagine hurting another, and most seem to hate death, but there are other humans that take enjoyment in hurting and killing others. Some humans have even hated each other for reasons that they can't control, because they were born different."
"Like us?" Oliver asked.
Christopher didn't know what to say. It was definitely the case that they were suffering in their conditions by the humans because they are Prawns, as the humans call them, but he wasn't fully sure how he could say it to his son. His son is his world. But he knew that he would have to tell his son the truth. "Yes, Little One, like us." Christopher clicked, wishing that it wasn't true.
"Do they ever learn to get along?" Oliver asked, the young Prawn's eyes containing innocent curiosity.
"I think that some managed to get along." Christopher answered, his overall knowledge of humans and their history is still relatively rusty.
"Then why are we still forced to live here?" Oliver asked, his voice not having a single shred of hatred or animosity.
It hurt Christopher's heart, honestly. His son is so pure hearted, a young child that is not willing to hold even the slightest of grudges and willing to build bridges with others, maybe even humans. And yet most of the humans hated and despised him purely because he is technically not of this world. Most of them didn't care or consider about the child that he really is, who he is on the inside. Some humans, mostly the ones that are constantly protesting for the rights and freedom of Prawns, did consider how innocent Oliver really is, but the number was so small in comparison to the humans that were xenophobic towards him.
Christopher looked up at the mothership, floating above the prison that his species was forced to live in. Unless if he managed to get enough of the fuel to take the ship back home, his son won't know the freedom that he and the rest of his species had once known. Christopher could put his faith in the Prawn-rights activists, but with how little hope there has been throughout the years that his kind has spent on their planet, he had little faith. It hurt the father even more, the concept that his son, among many other children of his kind, will never know freedom... he didn't even want to think about it.
"Father?" Oliver asked, grabbing hold of the adult Prawn's arm with one of his little hands and shaking it slightly. Christopher was brought out of his unpleasant reverie, blinking as he regained his wits and looked back down at his son. "You have been silently staring at the ship, Father. Were you thinking of something?"
"Yes... yes I was, Little One." Christopher answered, slumping down slightly as the weight of the dreaded thought remained heavy on his body. "It was only a thought that is better left forgotten."
Oliver admired the holographic sight of a giant sphere with multiple smaller spheres orbiting around it, a hologram of his home planet. His home world looked beautiful, so much more beautiful than the slums he and his father was forced to live in. Nothing made him more excited or happy than the thought of his father's promise to return them there, even if his father never promised him that. He had so many questions about their home world, questions that he asked frequently, though his father rarely ever answered them. But Oliver was okay with that, father does spend a lot of time working at his job and collecting fuel for the mothership, so he didn't blame father for being too tired to answer.
It didn't bother Oliver, it just meant more exciting surprises for when he and Father and all of Father's friends go back home.
Father was still in the shack, looking at the flat screens connected to the boxes with a bunch of letters and numbers on the screens. It was just Oliver and Christopher in the shack, not that either of them minded.
Christopher looked up from the computers that he has collected throughout the years, the towering adult Prawn moving to the hatch that he kept hidden in his shack, in case any humans (especially ones from the MNU) enter his abode. If the command module was to found out and exposed to the MNU, then Christopher's species may lose all hope of ever returning home.
Christopher opened the hatch, seeing his son's head turn to the now open opening in the floor in surprise. 'If I die before I can collect enough fuel, he will have to take the responsibility of saving our people.' Christopher thought sombrely as he continued to look at Oliver through his peripherals. Christopher didn't like the thought, of him dying and for his son to take on such a tremendous responsibility that was essential to the survival of other a million of his species, especially if his son is still technically a child when he dies. There was no way to say that it would be inevitable, but Christopher would still have to make sure that his son knew in case he didn't live long enough to save his people. Fortune did not smile down on his species ever since they came here.
"Father, what's that?" Oliver asked, walking towards the open hatch as he looked at it with curiosity.
"It leads to the command module, which is going to be flown up to the mothership, where the fuel is going to be inserted into so it can be flown back home." Christopher explained, the adult Prawn walking to the holographic projector and turning the hologram of his home planet off. Even though he wants nothing more than to see his home again, with that desire growing stronger with each day, it honestly hurt to look at it, in any form whatsoever, when there was still the possibility that he may never return. Christopher looked back at his son, the young Prawnling's large eyes were still wide with curiosity and wonder. And there was the inevitable excitement in those adorable eyes of his, Christopher should have expected it, as any good news related to the mothership or their home planet made the young Prawn become excited.
"Are we going home now?" Oliver asked expectantly.
"No." Christopher answered. The adult disliked the slight dejection on his son's face, even if it lasted shortly. As a parent, Christopher desired for his son to feel as much happiness as possible, but the pain of a broken promise was stronger than the happiness that it can bring. Oliver looked up at his father as he towered over him, like some sort of giant, antennae twitching excitedly and eyes filled with curiosity for what is inside the 'command module' his father had spoke of. "I'm going to show you the module that I'm planning on flying up to the mothership, in case... It can be useful for you to know how it works."
Christopher jumped down the hatch, opening the door to the command module. The door, like all of his species' technology, was engineered to react only to the DNA of his own species and any other species that his kind has became allied with.
Christopher entered inside the command module, lights shining and wires buzzing. Christopher looked up, seeing his son looking down from the shack in wonder. "Come." Christopher clicked, stretching an arm up towards his son and gesturing him to come down. The young Prawn crawled inside the command module on all fours, looking around excitedly as he scampered inside, keeping his eyes fixated on the technology. Christopher felt his heart swell with pride and joy as he watched his son look around in his excitement, unable to stop the smile growing on his face. "Do you want to know how it works?"
Oliver stopped scampering through the module, his antennae becoming erect as he looked at his father. A sense of worry had overcame Christopher as he saw the look of surprise in his son's eyes, but that worry had went away as the little Prawn's eyes had lit up in even more euphoria than before. "Yes! Yes!" Oliver clicked, running towards his father as fast as his little legs could, bouncing up and down in front of the other green-shelled Prawn with vast, excitement-fuelled energy, impatient to know everything he can about this piece of their technology under the shack.
'Nothing makes me feel more proud than you have ever since your birth.' Christopher thought with small tears of joy as he looked at Oliver, the older Prawn then proceeding to explain and teach everything that he knows about the command module to his son.
The mothership flew through the cold, infinite darkness of the universe's cosmos, holograms inside the ship showed how Christopher and Oliver's voyage through space is going. It seems as though everything is going is going positively, the two Prawns were homeward-bound and the mothership hasn't picked up any signs or warnings or sensors of something dangerous approaching like a meteorite or any spaceships that belonged to hostile aliens or any species that their own kind has made enemies with (though, in the end, both are technically the same thing).
Christopher looked down at his son as the young Prawn sat on his lap, looking in wonder at the projections of stars and cosmic nebulae. Christopher never felt so happy than to see the nearly boundless levels of happiness on his son's face, not even Oliver's birth could hold a candle to this moment in terms of happiness. Oliver was just jumping up and down on his father's lap, looking up at the adult, begging with his eyes to adventure around the mothership and look at the other holographic images that showed the space and cosmos that surrounded the ship.
Christopher could almost fawn at the sight of his excited son, and he was happy that he could now promise his son freedom and let him have high hopes. "Go, Little One, explore and have fun. Just don't go to far and be careful, I'm not certain if all of the pests that snuck on board years ago were gotten rid of." Christopher clicked happily towards his son, pat him on the top of the head affectionately.
"I will be fine, Father." Oliver replied, standing on his father's legs and pressing his mouth against his cheek, before releasing his mouth from the cheek. It was clear that Oliver was trying to mimic the action of a child kissing their parent's cheek, something that he once read or heard about. Though it was hard for one of their kind to do, since they don't really have lips. Kissing was more of a human concept. Oliver got off Christopher's legs and began to bound through and around the ship's interior excitedly, Chris watched as his energetic and curious child ran around the ship's inside, happy and hoping that they can return home as soon as possible and help their people that are still stuck on Earth.
That sight that he saw, of one of his own dead and skinned... their corpse lying on top of one of their tables, an innocent one of his own that was most likely tortured as some medical experiment. That was a haunting image that would plague Christopher's nightmares, he was certain of it. He knew now that he must get help for his people as fast as possible. Whenever he would evacuate all of his kind from that world or if they would be able to live in peace with the humans, he knew that he must bring a permanent halt to those experiments.
It made Christopher feel sick to think that more of such horrors will be continuing to happen, even as he and his son are making it back home as fast as possible. At least he managed to get his son onto the ship with him, Christopher quite honestly felt like he was going to become sick from even the mere thought of his child growing up in the next district and becoming another one of MNU's test subjects.
Christopher looked back from where he sat in the cockpit, seeing his son gazing in awe at the holograms that acted as windows to see what is on the other side of the ship. After everything that has happened in the last few days, especially after the command module had been shot down and he thought that his son had died, Christopher felt tremendous relief that was the size of an ocean that his son was finally, for the first time in his life, completely safe.
Christopher definitely felt a sense of closure from the knowledge, even though he still felt a sense of uneasiness after seeing what some of the humans are willing to do to his own kind. He knew that some humans are capable of truly heinous acts, but he could never prepare for that.
Christopher knew that he would have to make good of his promise to return in three years, not only to the human that helped him, Wikus, but to his people as well. To be honest, Christopher is uncertain if he can help Wikus when he returns. When he originally promised to heal him before the raid on the MNU, Christopher intended to fix him before collecting the rest of his people and leaving, but after knowing of how much of the fuel that was lost and what is happening to his people back on Earth, he knew that he would have to leave as soon as possible. However it already seemed like he was starting to become less human, in the physical sense, when he sacrificed himself for the father and son. If Christopher did come back in three years and Wikus is already a complete Prawn, he doesn't know if even their advanced technology would be able to turn him back into a human.
Christopher remembers the night before the raid on MNU, when Oliver began to ask many questions like he usually did, though this time he asked them towards Wikus. While Chris was okay with no longer being the one that his son asked his endless rows of questions towards, he was still unsure of the human. If that human were to dare to yell at his son or hurt him, their deal would be off.
While Wikus was rude as he avoided most of the questions, he never did anything to hurt Oliver. Then the curious and persistent little Prawnling asked Wikus if there was anyone that he wanted to return to when he becomes human again.
Christopher was surprised at the complete change on Wikus' face, how he went from brooding and sulky to the happiest he had ever seen any human ever be (at least not in the sick pleasure that so many of the MNU had when they hurt or killed Prawns). Wikus immediately began speaking of his 'wife' (he read many mentions about that word in human books, it is apparently meant to be an important female to someone), that she is the 'light of his world' and 'the one that keeps him living' (his own words). Christopher could sympathize with the human, at least when it came to his emotions towards his loved one.
Prawns are a species that mate for life (though Christopher guesses that he should start using the past tense, as it seemed to have stopped with some of them when the Nigerians offered interspecies prostitution). Throughout the years they have came across species that were the same and different when it came to one's loved one, some even on their own home planet. Some also mated for life, some were promiscuous and often little feelings towards each other (if any at all), and some species even had it where a male or female would have multiple lovers.
From his research on humans, Christopher found that the Earth-native species was technically all of them. Some found a loved one that they truly loved, to the point that they could never imagine life without them or move on. Others were different. Wikus was definitely one of the humans that mated for life, with how he talked of his loved one, even calling her his 'soulmate' (whatever that was).
Chris did feel guilty, knowing that two beings may be losing their loved ones because of the transformation he accidently caused upon on Wikus. Hopefully Christopher would be able to fix Wikus when he comes back, or he and his mate will be able to still find love in each other despite the now existent species difference. Wikus did resolve to sacrifice himself for him and his son, Christopher would feel guilty if him losing his mate was his own fault. Nevertheless that causing someone to lose their loved one is greatly looked down upon in his culture.
"Father?" Oliver asked, the small and young Prawn standing by his father's side, looking up at him in puzzlement. Christopher blinked as he came back to the grips of reality, too focussed on his little lament. That wasn't good for someone who is operating a vehicle, especially one with interstellar travel.
"Sorry. I have a few things on my mind." Christopher apologised to his son, the little Prawn still standing by his father's side.
"Our human friend?" Oliver asked.
"Yes." Christopher answered. Wikus was honestly only among other things that Christopher had on his mind now that he was finally flying the mothership back home, but Christopher wouldn't tell his son the other things on his mind, not now. And not ever for some of the other stuff on his mind, such as the horrific discovery of what the MNU is doing to the Prawns that they randomly take away. Christopher knew that he should keep that information as secret as possible to all of his race, even though he would have to reveal it to the leaders of his world.
"Will we ever see him again?" Oliver asked.
"I don't know." Christopher answered, a sense of uneasiness that couldn't be detected by his son in his voice, not knowing if Wikus will be able to survive through the three years that will pass before he returns. It could be hard for Wikus to adapt to the life that Christopher's people have been forced to go through, and that is to say nothing less of the possibility of the MNU capturing and using him as an experiment. But Christopher knows that he shouldn't think like that, because now he has hope, and now he can stop looking at the future pessimistically.
District 9 was utter Hell to live in; the horrific conditions of the slums, the blatant hatred and pain his kind would go through purely because they come from a different world, the friends he made only for them to die (most of which were right in front of his eyes). Christopher exhaled air through his mouth, his species' version of a sigh, looking down at his side to see his son still looking up at him.
Christopher picked Oliver up, the youngling once again becoming entranced by the sight of the cosmos as they flew by. Christopher looked down at his son adoringly, rubbing and patting him gently on the head. He had little precious things in District 9, and even what little that he could get was usually taken away from him, but he was happy that the most precious thing that ever has and ever will be in his life, his son, was something that wasn't taken from him.
And he is happy now that his son, the thing in the universe that matters the most to him, can finally have a childhood that is truly happy.
Author's Note: God, I suck at endings, don't I? At least I admittedly couldn't come up with a better ending for this. Feel free to criticize me on that. I originally had intentions of this being a series of one-shots of happy little moments that Christopher and Oliver have in District 9... and I decided to abandon it because I found that I couldn't think of that many and went with this. Feel free to criticize me on that as well.
Whatever, this is a (somewhat) long story, and I guess you can still consider this good, even with the horrible excuse of an ending.
And this will end now because I can't think of anything else.