A Tall Tale

“Three hundred fifty-seven. Three hundred fifty-eight. Three hundred fifty-nine. Three hundred sixty-”
“Quiet!” the guard barked out. The smeet quickly shut her mouth. She looked at the soldier. He hadn’t turned around, but she knew he was talking to her. She could see the outline of his red uniform, and she could see the staff in his hand. His face covered and expression unreadable.
	Dim lights pointed around the perimeter of the Irken smeetery. On the floor, all attached to some sort of charging device, were hundreds of smeets in an unconscious state. A single pair of purple eyes glowed in the darkness staring up at the ceiling full of wires running in hundreds of directions. The mini Irken starts again in a much quieter voice.
 “Three hundred sixty-one. Three hundred sixty-two. Three hundred sixty-three.”
“I can still hear you child. Cease the counting.”
She could hear the aggravation in his voice. Trying to count the wires a third time will likely have some undesirable consequences. She opted for silence. Her eyes wandered from the agitated guard to the smeets on the floor.
Small little bodies huddled together for warmth. Some laying on one another, and others spooning as close as they could. Of course, this could only be possible with smeets. Irkens as they grow older want nothing to do with one another. These sweet embraces and tender moments among her species were a small yet fleeting portion of smeethood.
	She wondered how her species managed to propagate without these needs. Even with much of Irk’s history downloaded into her pak there were still mysteries that eluded her. Parts of Irken history that were either too prehistoric or too irrelevant were not downloaded into their paks. Her imagination ran wild thinking of all the pieces of their history that were deleted or deemed unnecessary.
Maybe they were robots that became sentient? What if they were flesh suits worn by our paks? That seemed interesting. What if the pak was an old robot species that gained sentience forced themselves on primitive Irkens and gave Irkens the ability to reason? It wouldn’t matter now. Irkens and paks are inseparable. Even if that were true who would be the real Irkens? The paks or the primitive flesh bodies? She grabbed her little antennas, and pulled down kicking her little legs. Ugh now the world seemed so much bigger than what they could explore or were even allowed to learn. Of course, it would seem this way for now. Soon enough they will be able to see the surface of Irk and contribute to the Empire’s efforts.
But how much longer would that be? One hour, two hours, a billion years? No wait… her internal clock says it’s 11:13 p.m. So they would be up in five hours forty-seven minutes. Time is passing by so slow. She’ll never make it at this rate. Her gaze wanders around trying to find a smidgeon of entertainment in this almost pitch black room. A few guards stood by to ensure the safety of the Irken Armada’s future soldiers and service drones. Soft breathing from her surrounding generation of smeets resounded in the room. There was nothing to look at, or rather there was nothing worth looking at.
At least until she saw the lights flash. At first it was just one light, then two, then five, then nine. The flashing stopped. The lights all went out. Confused sounds came from some of the soldiers. Annoyed groans resounded amongst them. Then the lights came back on. Joyful little cheers rang out between a few of the guards. That was until the entire room brightened to an eye burning degree. She shielded her eyes and looked at the soldiers. They were much more panicked than she was. They were already on the defensive. Yelling was heard in the distance. The lights started bursting shards of glass falling on top of the soldiers. Pop one by one the lights blew out. Her spooch jumped into her throat. The ground started shaking, and yet none of the other smeets stirred once.
“Block one-six-two-four-one report to the hatchery!”
Immediately she saw all the guards run away from the perimeter. The light bulbs that were left burst. Yelling was heard in the distance. The sound of hundreds of footsteps resounded off the walls of the smeetery. Alarms blared and the floor shook with tremors. This was no mere Irkquake, whatever it was demanded the attention of all the soldiers. Was it an invasion? If it was they wouldn’t leave Irk’s precious cargo unguarded. Right? R-right. Irkens are a dime a dozen but smeets were worth more than any snack right? The unlimited potential of one smeet outweighs the value of any-
Pap pap pap.
Footsteps. Nothing like the soldiers she heard before. It was complete darkness now. She couldn’t see anything after the eye blinding display of the lights.
Pap pap pap.
There it was again. Her antennas raised in alarm. Everything was still too dark. She rubbed her eyes in hopes that they would adjust.
Nope, that just made it worse.
Pap pap pap.
She could hear it at the door. At least the guards ensured that the smeetery was locked. Ha! Nothing could get in.
The doors slid open.
…Unless they knew the code… Looking around she couldn’t see what got in. Her eyes finally correcting themselves. She got up staying as low as possible. Maybe she could use some of her brethren as a shield or as a distraction. She snuck around piles of unconscious smeets some stacked as high as forty smeets. She couldn’t even see over most of them. She crawled around until she heard some rustling. Around this leaning tower of smeets is the-
The pile of smeets fell on her. Crammed like sardines in a can. Her tiny hands started the work of forcing her way out of the pile. The cord connected to her pak weighing her down more with every Irken pushed out of the way. She managed to reach one arm out of the dogpile, but she still couldn’t get all the way out. Some fat smeet was in her way. After a few minutes of exerting herself she almost decided to stay in the pile. There was just no way to get out with her cord holding her down under the weight of twenty smeets. She felt something grab her free arm and pull her up in one quick motion. Wrestling her head from the pile she looked up.
Two magenta eyes looked into her violet ones.
A smeet? Just a male smeet..? Of course, smeets would obviously know the code. He pulled her once more attempting to pull her out of the pile. Her cord holding her back until it popped off. He pulled a little too hard and they tumbled down the pile of smeets. She fell on her stomach, and he rolled backwards on to his head. His tiny legs over his face.
His head was too awkward right now. He couldn’t get up. She got up and walked around to see his face. He winced in pain and opened his eyes to see her squatting in front of him. They stared at each other for a moment.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You are?”
“…Tak.”
“And you?”
“…Zim.”