“Before proceeding with the genetic modification of these Goblins,” a phrase Cyrus never thought he’d utter, “can you explain a few things to me?”

  ‘Certainly, Cyrus. However, I must emphasize that the longer our discussions last, the longer it will take before you and the others can be supplied with sustenance,’ Hoshi replied.

  As if to underscore the AI’s point, Cyrus’s stomach let out a growl.

  “Okay… I see your point,” he conceded, but he needed more answers before he felt ready to decide the fates of these creatures. Not only had he only shortly before encountered them, but he had also been attacked. The white lines on his skin were a reminder of their first interaction, one he was not ready to repeat.

  Another of those mysterious smiles crossed the face of the digital being. It was strange to see a holographic representation of a voice inside his head. This was yet another experience he never imagined he’d have to contemplate; it seemed peculiar occurrences were becoming the norm for the day.

  Cyrus had one burning question he needed to ask Hoshi. “Where did this ship originate from? I now know that it was excavated by, and not built by, the Goblins, so who were the original builders?”

  The AI’s voice, which Cyrus heard in his head, seemed to stutter momentarily, as did Hoshi’s image before him. For a split second, the AI blinked into an extremely alien, yet somehow strangely familiar form—a shape that Cyrus subconsciously felt drawn to but frightened of at the same time. However, with its rapid transition, he couldn’t get a good enough view to make sense of what he had seen.

  ‘I… I… I do not have access to that data,’ the AI spoke, the voice momentarily returning to the metallic form it had taken earlier. “It appears there has been some corruption of my data banks due to the extreme amount of time which passed while the ship was stationary.”

  “Uhh… okay, how long were you buried?” Cyrus asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

  ‘From what I have been able to determine through the analysis of isotopic decay, stellar degeneration of nearby quasars, and measurements of the redshift/blueshift of nearby stars, I estimate that this ship was buried an equivalent amount of time to approximately fifty-four thousand of your Earth’s years ago,’ Hoshi replied, without any hint of humor or deception.

  That answer only seemed to fuel even more of a burning curiosity in Cyrus's mind. How did the AI measure an Earth year without having been around Sol? How could a ship stay buried for fifty thousand years and still be functional enough to be in the vacuum of space? But perhaps most puzzling, how did the ship's AI know the name of his planet?

  He couldn't recall uttering the word aloud, although Hoshi had seemed to be able to pick up on what he had been thinking about earlier. Cyrus wondered if that was how the AI could translate things like distance and measurement into terms he could understand.

  Another growl from his stomach yanked Cyrus back from the mental rabbit hole his mind was climbing down. He had hoped there would be something akin to replicators aboard, like those in Star Trek, but from the way the AI was talking about not having food available, that possibility sounded unlikely.

  So, if he didn't want to starve, he needed to focus on making progress towards whatever the ship needed repaired in order to get them to somewhere they could trade or forage. With some reluctance, he decided his further questioning would have to wait.

  "Okay, you're right. We need to get these guys up and functional," Cyrus said, suppressing the remaining questions still burning in his mind. "What can you tell me about them?"

  ‘The SCANT was unable to properly interface due to their genetic makeup. I can only fully interact with individuals who possess the genetic marker left by my progenitors,’ Hoshi explained, but then seemed to freeze.

  The holographic image remained completely stationary, and a strange static-like noise filled Cyrus’s mind. "Hello?" he whispered after a few seconds of no further interaction. Then, he began thinking to himself, ‘Did they just say something about genetic markers left by their progenitors? What could that mean?’

  ‘Yes, my apologies,’ Hoshi's voice finally returned as the image flickered and began moving again. ‘It appears that whenever I attempt to establish a neural link to these Goblins, my subsystems suffer several cascading failures. It takes me several moments to reset myself when this happens. This is why your presence is so desperately required.’

  Cyrus nodded. “Yeah, that would make things difficult for sure.”

  He took a moment to figure out how best to proceed with determining the Goblins' abilities. He remembered the taller one looking at him, almost as if it were the leader. When their eyes locked, Cyrus sensed a greater intelligence in that one. ‘I think I need to start with him,’ he thought to himself.

  “Can we start with the tall one here?” Cyrus asked as he stood and approached the hovering platform holding the Goblin aloft. “Can you wake him up so that we can talk? That's what you said the SCANT does, right?”

  ‘Certainly, and yes, that is one of its primary functions,’ Hoshi replied in Cyrus’s mind as the avatar moved with him to the platform. ‘Do you wish for him to remain secured?’

  “For now, I think that would be best,” Cyrus said. This one didn’t seem aggressive before, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, it gave him a good bargaining tool if needed.

  The avatar positioned itself on the opposite side of the bed, and Cyrus heard the Goblin stirring.

  ‘Just to reiterate, these Goblins will not be able to see or hear me due to the failure of the neural link, so it will be up to you to explain the situation. However, I am working on remedying the failure of communication between myself and the Goblins,’ Hoshi said as the Goblins' eyes slowly began to flutter open.

  Cyrus tried to maintain a neutral stance, although it seemed futile given the circumstances. No matter how he positioned his hands, it felt awkward trying to appear casual in front of a Goblin who might just as soon prefer to eat him than engage in conversation.

  As the Goblin's eyes slowly focused and shifted to look at Cyrus standing beside him, the intelligence he had sensed before became evident, but only for a fleeting moment. Once the Goblin realized he was a captive, bound at his hands and feet, he began to squirm and grunt, fighting to break free.

  Unable to stifle a flinch at seeing the Goblins' rapid descent into hysteria, Cyrus reflexively stepped back and brought up his hands. "Whoa, settle down," Cyrus urged, attempting to calm them. "I'm here to set you free, but first I need you to ensure that you won't try to hurt me once I do," he added, his tone as soothing as he could manage.

  Initially, the creature's grunts and growls were indecipherable as it writhed and twisted, its limbs bound by oddly glowing bonds. But slowly, words began to emerge from the guttural grunts and hisses.

  It was an unusual dichotomy. Cyrus could hear the creature's raw, primal growls, but simultaneously, he understood the meaning behind them. The translated words, in English, formed in his mind, spoken in a mental voice with a similar tone to the creature's growls, even though the sounds his ears perceived were nothing like the language he knew.

  The first fully decipherable sentence Cyrus understood from the Goblin in this manner was, "Who the Sog are you, and what are you doing on my Sogging ship!?"

  Using context, Cyrus could deduce what the Goblin was saying and wondered if there wasn't a proper translation for the curse words the Goblin was using, or if there was some sort of filter in place. Either way, the strange alliteration of the curses caused him to chuckle under his breath, which only seemed to further anger the Goblin.

  "I'm Cyrus," he said, gesturing to his chest in the universal symbol for introducing oneself. "and I'm not exactly here on your ship, well, I guess I am in a way, but it's not really your ship. I mean, yes, your clan, is that the right word? —anyway, your clan unearthed it, but it belonged to someone else long before you laid claim to it." Cyrus rambled, his anxiety escalating as he engaged with the strange and somewhat intimidating creature.

  For Cyrus, even a creature that only came up to his chest seemed formidable, having never had the reason or desire to test himself physically.

  "Sorry, I'm getting off track," Cyrus apologized, attempting to refocus on the main objective. "Okay, let’s start with, can you tell me your name?"

  Daegnon awoke to find the human from before standing over him. His hands and feet were bound, and an inherent fear passed through him. Goblins were always regarded as lesser beings by the tall folk—humans, elves, dwarves (though dwarves weren’t much taller)—so his initial response was to struggle and try to break free.

  "How dare you! Knock us out with magic, steal my ship, tie me up, and now what? You have a pet dragon or somethin’ you gonna feed me to?" he screamed as he fought against the restraints.

  As the human began speaking in a strange tongue, a language that Daegnon couldn't understand, the tone initially sounded condescending but then shifted to one of confusion. The human definitely wasn't speaking common, the language most species used when interacting with each other on Dranor.

  But gradually, the strange words began to clarify the longer the human spoke. Still, Daegnon was too smart to let a human take what he and his clan had rightfully found, or uncovered in this case.

  “Who the Sog are you, and what are you doing on my Sogging ship!?" he yelled up at the human. He saw a slight recognition on the human’s face as though he had actually understood what Daegnon had said this time, though he questioned his own words as they didn't sound quite right, the swear words coming out differently than what he intended.

  Daegnon knew what he intended to say, but the words that left his mouth were entirely different, even to his own ears. Hearing the slight chuckle from the human, he wondered if the words that had come out of his mouth sounded as strange to this human as they did to himself, but couldn’t help but feel the laughter was aimed towards him rather than at the strange occurrence.

  "You understand me?" Daegnon finally asked, calming down somewhat in the hopes of being released. He still didn't trust this human, but as long as he wasn't dead, he would do what he could to protect himself and his fellow clan members. After all, he was still the burrow-master.

  "Yes, like I just said, my name is Cyrus, and I'm not here to hurt you or steal from you. I just want to make sure you won't hurt me before I let you go. Our last encounter didn't go well for me, so I'd like to start over, and hopefully find a way for us to coexist since we are both basically trapped here," Cyrus explained, rubbing his arms as though massaging old wounds.

  'Trapped here?' Daegnon thought to himself. As he slowly comprehended what the human was saying, it started to make sense. Daegnon had been avoiding the nagging thought that had been worming its way from the back of his mind, telling him that he had somehow doomed himself and the Goblins with him.

  He had wondered if they were indeed trapped here, destined to die in this metal creation, far from Frenargrak, their home mountain, and far from the rest of their clans.

  He had no way to get them home, no way to escape; he was stuck on this ship with the other five Goblins who were onboard when the ship had moved away from their mountain into space. When he had moved them away.

  The words sank in, leaving Daegnon feeling disheartened but fully accepting. He had tried to deny it, but now he had to face the fact that they were indeed doomed unless something changed. If this human was now in the same predicament as they were and could help them escape, then perhaps forming an alliance would be the best idea.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "My name is Daegnon," he finally said, his words coming out slowly and deliberately, as though he were tasting them before releasing them. He attempted to fight against his instincts to lash out, and instead embrace the more peaceful existence he’d been pushing the clans towards all his life, the same peace his father had striven for.

  Daegnon had been on merchant outings before; he knew there were some of the other races that could be decent, species that would treat Goblins with respect. However, that trust was always hard-won, and being held captive made trusting this human very difficult.

  "Okay… Daegnon, that’s a very interesting name, not one I have heard before," Cyrus replied. "I am sure you have a lot of questions, as do I. But I want to fill you in on what I know so far so that you can make an informed decision for you and your people. You are the leader of these others, right? A Goblin?"

  This human used some big words, but the voice in Daegnon’s head, translating what the human was saying, did its best to help him understand the meanings.

  "Yes, and yes. We Goblins, and I burrow-master," he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully to ensure there would be no misunderstanding. "You have things to tell, just do; be tied makes me very mad," Daegnon answered, trying his best to remain calm and match the words that Cyrus was using.

  "Oh, okay. Would it help if you had a hand free? I know I often have an itch on my nose that would drive me crazy if I couldn’t scratch it. Would that help?" Cyrus asked politely.

  Daegnon looked at this strange human. The things he spoke about were so mundane and unusual. His tone held no hint of danger, no hint of ever having to fear or fight for his life. From the looks of him, he had never gone hungry or been without a soft place to rest either.

  "Cyrus," Daegnon spoke as candidly as possible, hoping he remembered the name of this human correctly. The unfamiliar name felt strange on his tongue. "I sorry for before. We should not attack you before knowing who you is. But my brain screams to me escape now, makes talking hard, so please set me free. I promise I not hurt you."

  Daegnon watched as Cyrus looked up, seemingly staring at the wall on the other side of his bed. Daegnon shifted his head to follow Cyrus's gaze but saw nothing, so he looked back at the chubby, unusual human.

  ‘Cyrus,’ Hoshi said, ‘there really is nowhere Daegnon can run to, and now that SCANT is fully integrated within him, he poses no actual threat to you. Furthermore, the neural link established between us is strong enough that you will not have to vocalize to speak with me; simply direct your thoughts toward me, and I will respond in kind.’

  Cyrus had delved into sci-fi and anime enough to have already assumed the link he and the AI were communicating over was similar to a technological telepathy, but hearing this from Hoshi made the idea of speaking to them easier.

  “That’s good to know. Go ahead and release his bonds. If they are making him feel that uneasy, the story I am going to tell him isn’t going to sink in. Since he is their leader, he needs to understand what’s going on. We’ll really need his help,” Cyrus said in his mind and watched the holographic image nod its head in acknowledgment.

  "Okay, I am going to trust you," Cyrus said, and as he did, Daegnon felt the binds disappear from around his arms and legs. It felt like magic, and Daegnon couldn't help but feel a little more respect for this human, believing more and more that perhaps he was some kind of powerful sorcerer.

  As if to confirm Daegnon’s suspicion, he observed the empty floating table move over so that Cyrus could sit upon it, while his own bed lowered to better fit his height.

  "There, let’s have a friendly discussion, shall we?" Cyrus said as he sat on the hovering platform.

  "You are powerful sorcerer, right?" Daegnon asked.

  The question took Cyrus by surprise. "Wait, what? A sorcerer?" He began laughing aloud.

  Daegnon stared at Cyrus, trying to determine if the human was making fun of him.

  "This... this isn’t magic; it isn’t even my doing," Cyrus told the Goblin. "This ship," he started, then his gaze shifted to where he had been looking before and his eyes unfocused for a moment, "The Tarnished Starfang, I guess you call it?”

  Daegnon nodded, and Cyrus continued, “It’s actually the ship, or more precisely the AI making things happen, although you probably wouldn’t know the meaning of AI. How about we call it ‘the spirit’ of the ship for now. It’s the spirit that moved the beds."

  Daegnon followed Cyrus’s gaze as he looked at the wall, the motion the same as he had done earlier, but still saw nothing there. However, he found it curious since it looked as though Cyrus were talking to someone else, someone he couldn’t see. Since Cyrus spoke of a spirit within the ship, perhaps that was what the human could see, but he could not.

  Daegnon had wondered if there was a spirit within this ship before. It did make sense to him since that is how he and his gang had been guided here, by the glowing yellow arrows on the glass panels. These arrows could only have been placed there by something intelligent within the ship, especially since they were the only occupants.

  The idea of there being a presence he couldn’t directly communicate with made him feel a twinge of sadness. He would have liked to speak with this spirit himself. At the same time, he was impressed by the human's unique ability.

  Daegnon was definitely of two minds about Cyrus. On one hand, he felt a sense of unease and envy, but on the other hand, he recognized that forming an alliance with Cyrus was in the best interest of both himself and the other Goblins. The human's ability to communicate with the ship's spirit could be their key to survival.

  ‘While I must leave this intermediation in your hands, I do suggest you find a way to explain things in a manner that Daegnon can better comprehend. He lacks the technological knowledge you do. His world, from what I could tell, was one based almost solely on magic and the use of what they would label as “mystical energies.” You may need to change your descriptions to account for his previous life’s experiences,’ Hoshi explained.

  ‘Thanks, Hoshi, you are right. I will have to choose what I say and how I say it carefully so that he will be able to follow along,’ Cyrus replied.

  "Okay, this is going to be difficult to understand, so let me see if I can find a good way of explaining what’s going on," Cyrus began. "This ship was made a long time ago by really smart people, much smarter than either of us, but something happened to them, and the ship got buried in your mountain."

  Cyrus continued to explain how the ship had shown him the years of excavation the clan had undertaken.

  "My clan is Rustfang," Daegnon interjected.

  "Rustfang, that sounds like a strong name," Cyrus said thoughtfully, nodding in approval before moving on. "This ship has a mind in it, a thinking machine. Technically, it’s called an AI, which stands for artificial intelligence. Think of it like an artificial soul that’s trapped in the ship.”

  Daegnon nodded, seeming to grasp the concept, so Cyrus carried on, “So this AI can talk to me because I am more similar to the people who built the ship, I guess—the AI doesn't have much info on that anymore, apparently. Oh, and the AI's name is Hoshi, and really they are the one who controls this ship. They're the one who made these floating beds move, and they're also the one who created the fog earlier that knocked you guys out."

  As Cyrus explained, all the displays in the room lit up simultaneously and a digital face appeared on the screens. A metallic voice emanated from unseen speakers, its tone resembling that of Daegnon, but sounding older and somewhat more metallic, similar to the old metal speaker sound Cyrus had heard originally from teh AI.

  “Hello, Daegnon. I am Hoshi. It is good to finally meet you,” the metallic voice said.

  Daegnon stared at the digital face, dumbfounded.

  Cyrus joined him in his confusion. The face on the displays was nothing like the holographic image he could see in his mind. Rather than having a nondescript gender and profile, the image on the screens looked like a distinctly male Goblin. The image appeared much older than Daegnon, but there were some resemblances in the nose and eyes.

  “I am borrowing the image of your forefather Grubnack, if that is alright. He is your ancestor who initially started the excavation of the Tarnished Starfang. He is, in essence, the first person I recall,” the voice explained.

  The surprising introduction left both of them reeling for a few moments. Daegnon was astonished that the ship had the capability to communicate with him in this way, and even more so that it had chosen someone so important to the clan, and to him personally.

  Cyrus was also surprised to see Hoshi take that form, but for entirely different reasons. This made his explanations much easier, as Daegnon now had the proof he needed to understand what was happening. Additionally, it meant Cyrus wouldn't have to continually relay information between the two parties.

  Daegnon looked as though he wanted to get up and talk to the image being displayed, but Cyrus lightly cleared his throat and brought the conversation back on track.

  “Okay, now that you have a better idea of where I am getting my information, let’s continue, shall we? The fog that knocked you out before contained little machines.” Cyrus pinched his fingers together to indicate how small he meant. “These machines got into our heads and are how we can talk to each other and understand the different languages we speak. They connect our minds, letting us hear the words we’re used to hearing even though we are not actually speaking the same language.”

  “They also connect me to Hoshi, but in a slightly different way. I guess your…” Cyrus paused, searching for a term that the Goblin might grasp, noting Daegnon's seeming difficulty in comprehending the higher concepts he’d been speaking of. “Your species isn’t compatible; you don’t have the right type of blood.”

  Daegnon stared at Cyrus, possibly waiting for him to give out more information, or perhaps he was just trying to figure out what he had been talking about; Cyrus couldn’t quite tell.

  “I not know what musheenz is, or how they can be in me,” the Goblin said, struggling to pronounce the word "machines" since it was apparently not part of his usual vocabulary. “But sounds like magic to me. My Shaman Kigto can cast spell to make speak common when we trade with big-folk. To me, that sound like what is happening,” Daegnon replied, his expression growing more contemplative and having better syntax as he progressed through his thought.

  “Okay, well… Whether you choose to think of it as magic or technology, since neither of us knows how it works, it’s basically the same thing, right?” Cyrus asked, eliciting a hesitant nod from Daegnon. “The real reason I’m here telling you this is that this ship needs our help; it is not fully functional. It doesn’t have a lot of power anymore and needs to be repaired. Without our help, both it and us are going to just float here in space until we eventually starve and die."

  Cyrus definitely felt like he sounded a little whiny by the end of his speech, but it seemed like he had said something right as the Goblin’s ears perked up.

  Daegnon's surprise was evident in his tone as he asked, “We need to fix ship?"

  “Yes, and if we don’t do it soon, we are all going to starve,” Cyrus exhaled, glad to have the main part of the explanation complete.

  The two looked at each other, and Cyrus’s stomach gave another growl, which caused Daegnon’s lips to twitch upward on one side.

  “I need to know what you and your guys here are good at so we can get the right person working on the right project. Do any of your friends have special abilities?”

  Daegnon looked over at the still-sleeping Goblins thoughtfully. Cyrus assumed he was trying to recall any special traits or gifts they might have, analyzing how they could be best utilized.

  When Daegnon looked back, what he said was not what Cyrus had been expecting. “I am burrow-master; they listen to me. I am leader; that my special ability. We found ship, so it ours,” he said with an almost menacing tone at the end.

  There was a pause, and Cyrus began to wonder if this Goblin was actually going to work with him or not. He had explained everything the best he could and thought Daegnon understood the complexities of their situation.

  Daegnon continued after giving Cyrus a moment to digest what he had just said, his voice now better modulated. “If I am leader, they will work and do what I say. If I am not leader, they will not. So, I have to be leader.” He was firm in what he said, as if there was no room to broker another opinion, but there was a slight sadness to his tone as well. His shoulders slumped as he spoke. “You understand?”

  ‘From what I observed of his culture, the burrow-master is similar to a chieftain. His orders are final, and those who oppose him are generally killed. The burrow-masters of the past had shamans, which were similar to mystical counselors, but I did not have the foresight to follow the clan while they interacted with other races, so I am unsure as to the proper protocols for this situation,’ Hoshi said into Cyrus’s mind to assist him in figuring out the proper way to deal with this new twist.

  ‘Since the dynamics of the current situation are so greatly withdrawn from the norm in which he is accustomed, perhaps offering a totally new paradigm would be the best way of dealing with him and his friends. I suggest offering him a leadership position, make him oversee the daily supervision of the crew, but keep your designation as pilot, since you are the only one here who will be able to fly the ship. This gives him the credentials his clan members will need to deal with their situation while maintaining your independence and necessity as part of the total crew of the ship.’

  Cyrus knew exactly what Hoshi meant. She might not have come right out and given specific titles, but he understood what the AI was suggesting; they were aboard a starship already, so they might as well stay on theme.

  Cyrus nodded his head as he looked at Hoshi while they explained their idea. Then he turned back to Daegnon and said, “So as long as you give the orders, they will do what needs to be done, right? They won’t do what I ask of them; it has to be you.”

  Daegnon nodded in affirmation.

  “Okay, so how about this: since you are no longer in a burrow but instead are on a spaceship, you can be the captain, the commander of the ship, and I will be the pilot. My job will be to steer the ship, to take it to where we need to go, since I am the only one who can fly it." Cyrus paused, then continued, "You will have command of everything else though. You can make sure everyone does their work, decide who comes and goes, and handle all the big responsibilities. You can be the leader, but the others also have to know that we are equals, that my role is essential if they want to continue to fly. This way, we’ll both be on the same level but will still need each other as well,” Cyrus suggested.

  As he described the captain position, a weight lifted from his shoulders. He had been dreading taking charge of the ship and therefore the Goblins. This new paradigm, as Hoshi had put it, allowed him to give Daegnon the responsibilities of the others while he would still have the opportunity to fly the ship. It worked out better than he could have anticipated.

  Daegnon looked at Cyrus with a half-smile. “I like the sound of captain; sounds important.”

  Cyrus smiled back and said, “Then captain you will be. Now, how about we get to the rest of these guys so you can lead them in what needs to be done?”