(someone who is damn-near invulnerable and also has naturally-occurring venom that, in practice, works on almost all potential venomees pretty much like they had gotten mildly intoxicated, to someone who only seems to see them as a weapon and expects them to act accordingly): "Yes, I could drug people who aren't a threat to me, but I could also talk to them. Like a sane person." -- RecklessPrudence
People got entirely the wrong impression about V'lex. It was the whole alien invader thing. Even though she wasn't, strictly speaking, invading anything. If anything, she was technically marooned. Her people had fled from their scientific investigation of the planet when they found out that it was inhabited. They had left a lot of their technology, and V'lex, behind.
And now she was trapped in a scientific facility with all the leftover gear and nobody to talk to but a digital voice with all the emotive capacity of a brick.
She had to be fair, it was a nice space. With a garden area she could tend herself and nice views. She knew the views were digital simulations, because when the power went out, her view was of a blank, white wall. But they were very nice simulations and helped her feel less shut in. She spent a lot of time in that garden. Tending things she grew from seeds the crew had brought with them and then forgot. Just like they forgot her. It was something to do when they weren't busy taking samples out of her. Blood. Urine. Excrement. Skin, when she shed her skin. Nails, when she trimmed her nails. They even took her preened-out feathers. And, of course, the venom.
They couldn't get enough of the venom. V'lex couldn't understand it. Her toxins were not exactly toxins. They were inebriants. Depressants. Sure, enough depressant could kill a living being, but it would take every one of her long-gone crew to do that to one of these native cogniscents. So, one day, she refused to bite. Literally.
"What do you need so much of my venom for? It's not exactly the most useful stuff in the universe."
"You are invulnerable," said the mechanical voice. "We can not kill you. Therefore your venom must be what can kill you."
"Sorry. Only makes me drunk."
The voice continued. "What can kill you can be weaponised against our enemies."
"Sure. Have fun with that," said V'lex. "And when all your enemies are drunk, then what?"
Silence for a minute. Someone must have been listening. "You could have killed us," said the voice.
"When I realised you were all armed with pea shooters, I thought better of it. I mean... yeah. I could have drugged all of you. But you aren't a threat. I could easily drug people who aren't a threat. But I could also talk to them. Like a sane person."
The mechanical voice didn't argue. After a few more minutes, a chime sounded. Dinner. Based loosely on the ration packs from the ship and made from locally-sourced ingredients. These people were trying their hardest to look after her. All their talk of killing was likely a front, since they could plausibly attempt to starve her by stopping all feeding times. She could supplement her diet with her harvests, and frequently did, but they wouldn't last for long.
On the plus side, they wanted her alive. On the minus side, they wanted her to be a weapon.
She wondered how long they would be at that particular pursuit.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / irina88w]
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