Part Five

GT July | Stellar Allies | Part Five

Words: Overbearing, Out of Reach, Distortion

The question lingered in the back of Cliff's mind for a few moments as the situation settled over him. It made perfect sense that Ol'oih, their newfound alien companion, would probably have crew members with him. If that thing that was in the sky was their ship, the pieces that broke off were probably also escape pods and not just meteorite debris as he and Jax originally thought.

With that being said, Cliff's mind drew a complete blank. When they realized how close Ol'oih's escape pod, what they thought was a meteorite, had landed, they'd abandoned all observation on the other chunks that broke from the main body. If he thought about the trajectory of where the main body was going, it was possible for them to maybe find out what happened to one of the pieces.

On the other hand, it was equally as possible th-.

"What did he ask?" Jax's voice made Cliff jump. He'd been so focused trying to solve the question and the issues it presented that he completely forgot about keeping his friend in the loop. He looked down into the crate and saw Ol'oih's hopeful features gazing back at him while Jax's face held minor annoyance that he had to wait for Cliff to translate since he was the only one with a direct line of communication to the alien.

"I… sorry. He wanted to know if we knew what happened to the rest of the crew. I'm guessing the thing we saw falling from the sky last night was the main ship, and he wants to know if we know anything about the others," stated Cliff. He looked down at Ol'oih and swallowed the dryness forming in his throat. "How many others were a part of your crew?"

"There are seven of us total," Ol'oih pathed, not hesitating when being asked. He felt like he could trust these two, at least at the moment, and he needed to know anything and everything he could before planning his next move. "There is Captain Immott Imai, second-in-command Adda Noz'ex, medical officer Scix'en Trok, our two technical specialists Arcal Kor and Valaih Du'uhl, and then cultural specialist Q'crul Kaelis. Also, as stated before, I am the linguistic specialist. I was meant to be a translator and dialogue analyzer on our information gathering mission."

The names came so quickly from their six-inch-tall alien companion that Cliff had no hope of trying to memorize or pronounce any of the names correctly. He doubted he could even list one of the names at the moment and instead continuing to listen as Ol'oih continued "pathing" to him.

"We were in orbit and descending in our ship to harness clearer readings when something happened aboard our ship. I do not know if it was an electrical issue or if we were struck, but whatever the case we began entering the atmosphere and had to abandon ship," Ol'oih pathed as he felt a wave of sadness sweep over him.

I don't even know if they're alive. Best case scenario, they managed to rendezvous with the observation team here on the ground and are trying to track either my pod or my suit. Worst case scenario… they've been found.

Ol'oih remembered hearing stories and reading books written about the human race, and much of the literature read like a horror story. Capture. Torture. Containment. Uncooperativeness. Destruction. Granted, in those stories the alien race was often the aggressor, but Ol'oih's people were different.

We're Stren, not some warring race like the Off'el. We wouldn't hurt them. It's why we're here – to gather information to see if they're ready for true first contact. Are humans more like us? Or like the Off'el?

"Um… Ol'oih?" He looked up and could read it in the boys' faces. Though nonverbal communication was limited from their various intercepted transmissions, the miniscule alien could tell that the information they boys had was going to be minimal and disappointing.

Amazing how much I can read just in their faces. It's like my ciferi. Interesting.

"Yes?" Ol'oih pathed, making sure to speak with intention rather than let his internal thoughts mingle with what he wanted Clifford and Jaxson to hear.

"I'm sorry, but we don't know what happened to your crewmates," stated Cliff with a disappointed shake of his head. "We saw the big piece go by and probably crash north of us, but not any of the other fragments. That's all we know. If anyone else was watching the sky last night, they'd probably be all over the area by now looking for meteorite fragments and maybe finding pieces of your ship."

"And that's if a hobbyist got to the pieces first. You know how close we are to Area 51? We'd be lucky if a hobbyist found what was left of your ship. If the government or other organization got to it first, there's no way we'd find out wha-" Jax was cut off by a stern glare from Cliff, which Ol'oih immediately picked up.

"Wait. What was that? Please! Do not be dishonest with me now. Why did you cut Jaxson off? What is Area 51? And your… government? That is your elected republic officials, yes? Do they… know about us? About life beyond your orbit? Please! Clifford! Jaxson!" Ol'oih pathed. He could hear the desperation in his tone and hoped Cliff would understand how distraught he was.

And Cliff did.

He didn't mean to shut down his best friend, but he was hoping to give the information a little at a time to not scare the alien. The last thing Cliff wanted was for the little guy to go rogue or hostile, especially while he was physically attached to the alien's tail-like appendage. The fluctuating gradation of colors rippling over Ol'oih's skin told Cliff that the alien was feeling distress and uncertainty, and rightfully so.

"Clifford? If you know something, I urge you to share it. Please! If my crew – my friends – are in danger, I need to try and help them. C-can you ask Jaxson to… to… explain? O-or you could! Please!" Ol'oih pathed again, boldly taking a step toward the boy's hand and laying his palms against the base of the boy's index finger.

Cliff hated he and his friend had contributed to it, but there was no changing it now. Cliff sighed and exchanged a look with Jax, who had obviously picked up on the fact that he'd shared a bit too much too fast based on the sheepishly guilty look on his face.

"He… wants you to explain." Cliff gave a nod to his friend and, understanding his meaning, Jax jumped into the conversation. This time, however, Jax was obviously being a bit more precise with his words. He had just began talking as if it were just him and Cliff. It hadn't occurred to him in that exact moment that the alien wouldn't know about the conspiracies and rumors about what Jax was referring to.

"I… sorry. I didn't want to scare you or anything," apologized Jax. "It's just… there's a lot of weird stuff that happens. Um… do you know what a conspiracy is?"

"Conspiracy? No. Define, please," pathed Ol'oih. He continued to take long, deep breaths to keep his body from thrumming nervously to the point where he might panic or shut down entirely.

"He doesn't know what it means," translated Cliff.

"Oh, um… well… a conspiracy is technically defined as a 'secret plan by a group to do something unlawful or harmful;' however, people… that is, us humans, sometimes use the word conspiracy when referring to something that may or may not be true because we don't have enough evidence to back it up. There is supposed 'evidence,' but sometimes it comes from an unreliable source. Make sense?" asked Jax.

When Cliff shook his head, obviously translating for Ol'oih, Jax continued.

"Um… okay. Here's an example. Some people don't think that humans landed on the moon. Even though there are pictures and stories and all sorts of other pieces of 'evidence,' some people think it is a conspiracy – a lie – to cover up the truth that we never set foot on the moon. We say it's a conspiracy because the people who are telling us that we landed on the moon are secretive and part of a larger organization that may or may not have an agenda." Jax felt like he didn't explain everything well, but Ol'oih seemed to be understanding because he looked back to Cliff and then back to him as Cliff translated once more.

"So, tell him about Area 51."

"Right, so. Area 51 is a military base owned by the government. A lot of people, myself and Cliff included, think that Area 51 is a place where our government hides the existence of aliens from us. There have been countless stories and sightings of ships, in theory, but nothing has been confirmed officially. There are countless conspiracies that there's UFO testing and alien research that goes on there, but no one really knows because everything there is classified as top secret and no one who works there will talk about what they actually do.

"Now, we actually live not too far away from Area 51, this top secret testing facility, which is what worries me because if we saw your ship, other people who work there might also have seen it and are investigating it right now. I was saying if we were lucky that others, like Cliff and I, might've gotten to the crash sites first and might be helping you and your crew; and that if we are unlucky, the people who work there might've gotten to the wreck sites first.

"Sorry… I… I'm sorry. I should've thought before blurting out stuff like that. I really hope your crew is okay," said Jax as guilt constricted his chest. He was so used to talking openly with his friend about these kinds of things that it wasn't even a second thought for him to think about what this information could mean to Ol'oih who, after hearing this, immediately felt faint.

Head swirling and body taking over, his legs buckled and he fell backwards completely limp. Thankfully, Cliff and Jax had both reached forward and caught him before he hit the hard ground. It only lasted a few seconds, but blackout was enough for Ol'oih to realize how dire his situation really was.

They're not like us. How could we have missed this? Years of observation and we missed this? We knew about their wars and crimes against one another, and we've had our struggles too, but to know they're more like Off'el?

Ol'oih had to know if his crewmates were okay. They had to be! Forcing control back over himself, Ol'oih pushed himself against the boys' hands until he was upright and waited for the nausea to subside before daring to path back to Cliff again. There was one way he could tell if they were alright or not, but he couldn't do it alone.

"Clifford, please. I need your help. I need to know if my crewmates are okay." Images of his friends flashed before his eyes, and he intentionally allowed those images to path to the human boy. Simple things. Them eating meals together. Studying as a group. Leaning back in their pods as they started their expedition here to Earth.

"Woah… Did you just?" Cliff could have sworn that, as he blinked, some of Ol'oih's memories flashed before his eyes like photo negatives from an old film camera. "Never mind. What can we do?"

"My escape pod. I need it. Please. It possesses equipment to locate their transponders. Also, a current map of our location, specifically that area Jaxson was referring to," pathed Ol'oih. He knew he must sound overbearing at the moment, but that didn't matter. What he needed was out of reach and this was the only way he could have peace of mind.

The alternative was far too distressing to consider so soon after he'd managed to find solace in these human allies who had found him.

"Y-yeah. Definitely. Um… Jax, would you grab Ol'oih's escape pod? He says he'll be able to find his crewmates with the tech he's got on it," said Cliff.

"Sure thing." Jax carefully tilted his hand so Ol'oih was sitting entirely on Cliff's fingers while he ran over and grabbed the pod from its hiding place.

"Ol'oih, it's going to be okay," Cliff reassured. "We'll find them."

I hope so, but what state will they be in when they're found? Ol'oih wondered silently to himself.

Jax finally managed to pull out the escape pod and carefully set it down in the middle of Cliff's bedroom. Both boys exchanged an awkward glance, knowing the pod wouldn't fit inside of the crate comfortably. They knew they needed to bring Ol'oih to the pod, which meant picking him up. Feeling the urgency, Cliff decided to bite the bullet and addressed the issue head on.

"Um… Ol'oih? Is it okay if I… pick you up?" asked Cliff.

"Pick me up? What?" pathed Ol'oih.

"The pod won't fit directly into this crate here, so we can either tilt the whole thing after pulling out the dishes and stuff, or I can just lift you out really quick and set you over there by your escape pod," explained Cliff.

If he was being honest with himself, Ol'oih didn't like the idea of being held. Some of the other beings his people interacted with on a daily basis were as large as humans and, as part of training, they had to simulate being held or carried in a plethora of positions.

Still, it made him uncomfortable.

His comfort, however, wasn't the primary concern.

His entire body now almost completely consisting of yellow and gray hues, he pathed back, "That is fine, though I would prefer crouching to being encased."

"Fair enough," agreed Cliff. He gingerly slid his hand under Ol'oih's feet while keeping his left hand nearby for stability and because Ol'oih's tail, or "addon" as he called it, was still firmly imbedded into his flesh. "Ready?"

"Yes."

Cliff inhaled a steadying breath as he lifted Ol'oih's entire body up off of the ground. The little six inch tall alien was lighter than expected, and his balance was a bit unstable. Cliff guessed it was because his tail probably acted as a counterbalance when on unsteady surfaces, like that of a cat, and that he couldn't use it at the moment and instead resorted to gripping onto Cliff's fingers for dear life. It was fascinating to feel all four fingers on each hand grasp individually onto the ridges of his fingers, but Cliff would revel in the interaction later.

The moment the back of his hand was resting on the ground, Ol'oih rushed over to his ship and climbed inside, partially jerking Cliff forward since he hadn't disconnected his tail.

In the pod, Ol'oih crouched and began typing as fast as possible any and all commands to ping the members of his crew. The lights flickered for a moment, making his heart sink, before glowing dimly. The image was a bit distorted, but the module was ready to receive instructions, and that's exactly what he intended to do with it.

If they're relatively close, I should be able to signal their transponders. It'll let them know I'm pinging them.

The signal went out and Ol'oih held his breath as the screen dimmed and crackled. His thrumming body was making every part of him shake in anticipation. It was unnerving. Every element of training had prepared him for the worst case scenario, but living it was an entirely different matter.

Please… please Ove… let them be alive and unhar-…

Through the distortion on the yellowed, flickering screen, thirteen dots appeared. Ol'oih couldn't believe his eyes. Not only were the dots clearly visible, but they were also clustered together and, if his readings were correct, not too far away.

The real question was whether or not they were in this infamous "Area 51."

"Clifford. Do you have the map? And could you or Jaxson mark Area 51 on it?" Ol'oih pathed, looking eagerly up at the two boys.

"Got it," said Jaxson, as if he already knew what the miniscule alien was asking for by a simple look. In his hands, he held the tablet down so that Ol'oih could better see the screen. His eyes flicked from the instruments in his pod and then back to the screen in Jaxson's hands.

Both human boys held their breath as they waited for some kind of indication. Neither wanted to be the first to break the silence. The air around them was saturated in anxiety so tangible it could be cut with a knife.

Then, they saw it happen.

Ol'oih's shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

No… are we… too late? Cliff wondered.