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Author's Note: So, I've had this little piece lurking in my head since I re-read; "A Call to Arms" by Alan Dean Foster. Not at all long, and I figured the Weave species would all have their own "nation" types, but seeing as they no longer work in tribal groups, I guess, just one.

And for those who have not read the Foster story in question, there's no guarantee this will make sense.

This is based on the line, sorry about paraphrasing, "I would have thought the Soviets and USA would be more suspicious about working with each other, but the two forces practically fell into each other's arms; they spent so long spying on each other they knew the perfect way to combine their militaries."


A Call to Arms.


America crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, and Massood very tiredly waited for the human; to have to work with multiple tribal groups in a single species was some form of controlled insanity. Elsewhere, Wais was delicately speaking with the most agreeable of the humans, a slight black-haired creature, who was less obtuse than the others. Still with each blunt cultural quirk encountered, Wais jerked like a puppet on a string. On the other side of Massood, a green-eyed man was glowering at America.

America, according to the green-eyed nation, was one of the two most influential nations on the globe, and according to America himself, he was the nation who had shot down the Weave technology. When asked to explain, his response was as puzzling as it was immediate;

"Well they went somewhere they weren't allowed to go, of course." A cheery grin. "A total threat."

"They weren't dangerous." Massood had tried to counter.

"Well, how was I to know that?" America huffed, puffing his cheeks up, a strong edge of pure violence in his voice. It was just as well he wasn't speaking to Wais, or by now, she would have been catatonic with eyes glazed over.

"You ruined first-contact." The green-eyed man spat violently at America, and Svan glanced their way warily.

"Tony's been here since forever!" America countered aggressively; humans were far too violent, unnaturally so. "And you guys never believed me!" He gestured wildly at something to the side, and the Weave, and green-eyed man looked at the empty spot America pointed at. "Apologize to Tony, you limey!"

Now the trouble seemed to be America was refusing to work together with another tribal group, someone he referred to as Commies.

The green-eyed one leant towards Massood, who was not yet certain he wouldn't lash out, and murmured, baring his teeth very slightly in what the humans seemed to insist was a friendly gesture. "He means Russia; those two have been fighting for a long time."

Massood combed his whiskers and glanced around, picking his teeth in thought.

Fighting? This planet was ridiculous.

"Regardless of previous conflicts, they are aware the Amplitur intend to invade?"

"I am so not going to work with that red bastard." America waved nonchalantly. "The US of Me can handle this all ourselves."

"The attack force will be planet-wide." Massood said for what felt like the thousandth time. At first Svan had attempted to cajole America, to little effect, and by the end of it, Svan had said he had never felt more like pulling on his own beard in frustration. Hivistahm had then tried to reason with the human nation, to little benefit. Turlog had very reluctantly suggested logic to America, who was full of human non-sequitur responses that almost made the Turlog's brain spin. Nobody even thought of putting Wais near this creature.

Eventually it had fallen to Massood, as the Weave had the mistaken idea that the ability to fight might give him insight into the creature. Whilst Massood had plenty of luck reasoning with the green-eyed one, America had proven far more difficult.

"So?" America yawned a wide-array of sharp teeth and Massood failed to restrain his tremble of annoyance: these humans almost made him feel prone to violence. If the human-nations weren't capable of slamming their fists straight into his ribcage, he would have considered attempting to see if physical aggression was the only language they understood.

At this point, the other nation in question, who despite being name-called by America all manner of things (the humans did have such a habit of nicknames) was called Russia, stepped into the room.

"Sorry I'm late," He said happily, smiling – no teeth, but still a bit intimidating – broadly. "I had to put the dog out, da." The man was even holding a pipe dotted with flecks of red human blood, and Wais dizzily swayed on the spot, eyes round and glassy.

America was on his feet, and Massood, Hivistahm, Turlog and Svan leapt out of the way as the human barrelled straight at Russia. The other nations moved forward, their intentions clear, as they expected nothing short of violence and moved to intercede. And who dare step between warring human, but other humans? The Weave backed away, except for paralyzed Wais.

Obviously, it was unexpected for America to throw himself into Russia's open arms. "My hamburger!" He wailed, clinging to the barely-taller Russian.

"My dearest Sunflower!"

The other Human nations stopped, and watched with wide, disbelieving eyes. The Weave weren't quite sure of what was particularly surprising, but it did show human contradiction, in that one moment America refused to work with Russia, but was now wrapped about him in a gesture humans considered extremely affectionate.

"Aliens are gonna invade," America and Russia seemed to be hugging quite contently in each other's strong arms. "So, we'll just have to get along, right?"

"Da," Russia nodded, beaming back at America; there might even have been tears in their eyes. They clung tighter together again, and The two broke apart, bumped fists together (friendly punches? Oh, Humanity, Massood thought, It was going to be a long war.) and wandered off, chattering about the best way to integrate their armed forced.

"Apparently, America-san knows Russian…" The Quiet Nation murmured, glancing at the green-eyed one.

"Yeah sure!" America rolled his eyes. "Been spying on him long enough, haven't I? Now, Russia, I've got the perfect thing in Area 54 for-" The two 'enemies' returned to the almost girlish chattering about dealing with the alien invasion, like gossiping teenagers. Russia enthusiastically nodding, and America swinging Russia's pipe in one hand, holding Russia's with the other.


May your quills be ever sharp.