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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SpacePaladin15 on 2026-04-18 14:03:38+00:00.
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FBI Agent Wade Barron POV
I found Hazel polishing up an intricate sketch on a plastic card, carefully shading within the lines she’d traced. The sound of my walking boot hitting the floor announced my presence, though her eyes only flitted in my direction for a brief moment. Was that a Saphno she was drawing? I had expected she’d want to replicate Craun’s likeness on the canvas, but the metal tassels that hung from a head wreath on this one suggested that this was another endeavor.
Craun solicited the right human here to make a Kiel deck. I’d like to look through them, but I wouldn't want to smudge or ruin her work.
“I’m definitely drawing more of these decks and selling them. Time to cash in on the souvenirs with that big crowd outside. The world keeps turning, doesn’t it, Wade?” A wry smirk stretched across her lips. Her calmness and willingness to help Craun with this suggested she was adjusting to our new reality. “Yesterday, this was all a laughable fantasy to me. I never believed in conspiracies or flying saucers. Everything I thought existed…had a rational, down-to-earth explanation.”
“I don’t blame you. I thought Finley was crazy too; I went to stop the UFO madness and left chasing it myself,” I chuckled. “I didn’t believe them until I realized the reporter did. Really, what I wanted was to see for myself.”
“You’re still crazy for going to the lengths you did, Mr. Extraterrestrial Security. Congrats on the promotion. Assuming I get transferred to your division, I guess that’ll make you my boss. I hope you’re a gracious winner.”
“It wasn’t a competition, Haze. It was about saving the aliens and stopping a needless war. Humanity won. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I understand that there’s a lot we need to discover about this…Council. That there’s whole other worlds out there that don’t think we’re people because they can’t fathom one of our deepest emotions.” Hazel stopped her pen’s motion, then turned to stare at me with incredulity. “How the hell did you handle this so calmly? You act like this is a normal Tuesday.”
I held up two fingers. “First off, I’m a big picture guy. Secondly, I like a good mystery. My concern with Craun is how to protect our people and to leave him with a better impression of humanity. I focus on the task and what’s in front of me.”
“But c’mon, Batshit Barron. What do you make of them?”
“Well…” I shoved my hands into my pockets, and sucked in as deep of a breath as my cracked ribs would allow. “I think Craun is trying. He’s starting to see that it’s not so easy to write us off as people, and that our anger doesn’t make us that different from him. We’re not what he was taught: and that confuses him. Most people aren’t quick to accept that their entire society is wrong about something, as this whole ‘ICBM’ debacle must’ve shown you.”
“That’s completely different! A few bonkers internet searches weren’t proof, and you know it.”
“Perhaps, but I’m sure you can imagine why someone might need concrete, irrefutable proof to change their mind about a fundamental truth. To him, that we’re people is as far-fetched a notion as UFOs. That’s why I’m going to chip away, piece by piece, until he’s like me. Until he thinks, ‘Could it be?’”
“That’s your take on Craun. What about Elbi?”
I snorted. “What about her? I’m not the patron saint of lost causes. I’m not that batshit; bless NASA’s hearts.”
“I also advised Kaitlin not to try. Hello, Wade!” Craun had wandered back into the room without us noticing (how could a rock be that quiet?!), but he didn’t seem upset by us badmouthing his sister. I thought he’d only caught the last bit of what we said. “Thank you for suggesting that we come to NASA. They are most helpful.”
“I’m glad you like it here, buddy! I’m excited to learn my first alien game before I hit the road.” I saw the Saphno’s confusion and shrugged. “I’m catching a flight up to DC to testify before Congress, then going straight to the United Nations. Don’t worry. I’ll put in a good word for you.”
“I am planning a media strategy as well. Do you know anything about TikTok dances?”
“Are you serious?” Hazel exclaimed.
“Why wouldn’t I be? It would make me less scary, and music is a calming practice for humans.”
“I’m going to guess Saphno tunes are the most zen, angelic choir music?”
“Most are lively and exciting, as many are traditionally enjoyed in step with a partner. I don’t know if primals would be so frivolous and…whimsical.”
“I take it you’ve never seen our 17th century fashion, if you don’t think we can be frivolous. Perhaps we need to take you to a Shakespeare production?”
I raised a hand, looking out at an imaginary audience. “My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break.”
Hazel gave me a funny look. “Barron. I never knew you to be a Shakespeare fan. Did you get body-snatched?”
“No, aside from a passing interest in Romeo and Juliet. But I was just looking up some of the Bard’s quotes on anger to pick what to show Craun. That one was pretty fire. I ultimately chose something else to show him what rage inspires us to create, if he’s interested? You must need a few moments to finish up the Kiel pack.”
“This is your last chance before you head off to corruption land. Now or never—I hope you chose well.”
Craun’s eye crystals glittered with curiosity, as I pulled up a page I’d left open on my smartphone browser. Terry challenging me to a poem-off left me thinking serious words might reflect how evocative the emotions could be, and the profound, sophont revelations they could lead to. I’d selected Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas, and I waited for the alien to scour the text. It was a poem about grief and the desperate, futile battle against mortality—against the fleeting nature of our existence.
It was more than that though, a celebration of the fighting spirit enkindled within us all. That was what it meant to be human, on the deepest level; that we would stand tall and defiant against inevitability, and resist the tides of death to our last breath. For those we loved, for the impacts our fleeting lives made, for the very notion that life was worth mounting a passionate defense. We should never give up—we should rage against the dying of the light. We had to find our own reasons not to let that primal fire be snuffed out.
Does Craun understand how passion and fervor can shape our entire worldview? That it encourages us not to bend a knee, that it’s a source of strength and energy when even hope has forsaken us?
Craun was silent for a long moment, before handing me back my phone. “What good does it do to grow angry at death? Does it change anything? Does it not come all the same?”
“We’re angry because we want more time, Craun. That’s what it means to be zealous for life, and that makes us value our time here,” I responded. “The poet says that maybe it is a curse to feel so fiercely, yet all of those feelings are…worth it. Worth it to love, to burn, to hurt, to claw and battle for what you want in this world.”
“I see. I don’t want my end to come either; that’s why I am here. A last desperate hope of survival that only a gambler would take. A risk-taker who’d watched Tolpia be poisoned, and seen the Fleet of Spikes darken the skies.” The alien’s voice sounded haunted, and I could see his mind slipping far away. “But I’m not angry at our fate.”
I pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Maybe you should be.”
“To descend into blind madness wouldn’t bring the Saphnos back; it wouldn’t fix the pain I feel and want to forget. My whole family is gone, besides Elbi. I’m…sad and afraid. I fell on your mercy because all the other options ended with us dead anyway. That I can possibly have something of a life here—that’s the best I can hope for. That’s reality.”
“They’ve broken you.”
“I am indeed broken. Elbi thinks I’m out of my mind, but why wouldn’t I be? It’s the end of our species. Tolpia has fallen, and our lives would be claimed next if we ever returned to Council space. Finley showed me that humans feel anger on our behalf, and seem appalled that I don’t. Why, Barron? Why is that worth it, truly?”
I looked at the floor, feeling the heavy emotions behind his words. “To continue on with your head unbowed. To not allow them to break you, to resist even when hope’s failed you—for only a morsel more of time. Anger is caring enough not to accept it. To decide your lives were worth enough that someone should pay the price for what was done! I doubt it’d change anything outside of yourself, Craun, but it’d change what you feel inside.”
“Then anger would make me impractically run around in a state of disorientation, wasting the time I do have. It would make me a fool.”
“Perhaps humans are all fools then. But I think having the strength within yourself not to give up would grant you purpose. If you’re honest, you must see the value in that.”
“And in the soul burning to right wrongs,” Hazel said, finishing up the last Kiel card. “It’s harder to be an idle observer like the Council when your morals compel action. You can’t doubt the agency behind our beliefs.”
“I…am glad that for yo...
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