There was a thunderous sound of rushing wind followed by a loud boom a little ways off in the forest. Bindo ran toward the sound hoping against hope it was a meteorite containing rare minerals. Occasionally, some would impact with moderate compositions of element 29. If it was and he was able to claim it, there would be bountiful harvests for years.

All his life Bindo had played in the woods near his family farm but he had never been able to find a strike. Other families had and literally reaped the benefits of the discovery for years to come. His family was struggling due to the very poor soil where they staked their claim years ago.

His father worked hard on the farm but always seemed to be fighting off one sickness or another. When they asked the healers they said it was due to poor nutrition. When he couldn’t work, his mother stepped in and made sure things still happened on the farm. He helped when he could, but he was not old enough to really be of much use.

His parents would send him out to play in the woods most days saying, “This is the time in your life to play. Go enjoy yourself and learn about this new world we are on. Maybe you will find some kind of treasure out there!”

Their small settlement didn’t have many kids his age. The ones that were weren’t his species. They were decent enough, but he never had much in common with them. Bindo almost always played alone with nothing but his imagination to accompany him on his adventures. He would come home at the end of the day and tell his parents stories of his fantastical and quite made up adventures to entertain them through the evening as they ate their meager fare of Tamsa Roots. It was one of the ways he could contribute to his household and bring joy to his parents. They worked so hard to provide for him and he saw it. Theirs was not a lavish life, but it was one with peace and love. It almost wasn’t that way, however.

Their previous home was rich and bountiful. As one of the early deep space colonies of the Grend people, it was carefully chosen for abundance. Good farmland, resources, water, and a complete lack of predator species had made that place ideal for their kind. Little did they know it bordered the space controlled by a species they had not encountered previously: the Krador.

Bindo’s parents told stories of the savagery of that plague race during the invasion of their previous world. They were barely able to evacuate in time before the vile insects reached their village. His parents left all they had to make their escape ahead of the hungry hoards. Some of the families that took too long to prepare were never heard from again.

If they had more time they would have chosen a different planet for settlement, but this one had to do. It had water, was able to grow crops with effort, had no predators, and was far in the periphery. They were many light years from Krador space. It led to a hard life, but at least it was a life.

This meteor represented a chance to change everything for his family. The reason food crops were so hard to grow here was because the soil of the planet was poor in element 29. While rare, some of the asteroids in the system had moderate amounts of it. One of the only food crops that could grow in the soil here was Tamsa and it needed that precious metal to really thrive.

A thrill energized him as he ran as fast as he could through the forest. It took him a little while to get through the heavy growth of Borta trees. A little ways ahead he saw light spilling through a giant hole in the canopy. Snapped trees and flaming branches indicated he was almost there. Eventually he reached his prize.

He slowed down and panted as he pushed through a particularly dense patch of Vree grass. What he saw as he came out the other side made him freeze in his tracks. Smoke hung heavy in the air as rays of sunlight filtered down through the trees to cast a golden hue over the strange form of an injured alien leaning against the remains of a crashed ship. As he stood gawking, it moved its head and looked at him.

The midday sunlight played off the large rigid plates covering most of its body. Bindo could just barely see his reflection in the huge compound eye on the front of its head. It had no claws, tusks, or fangs he could see; no indications it was a predator. It seemed very young because it was about the same size as he was. Sadness came over him as he realized it was probably about to die.

A length of Borta tree wood had apparently broken through the cockpit and impaled the creature when it crash landed. Blood flowed slowly out of a painful looking wound where the offending branch had pushed through the heavy metallic skin of the creature. It sat up a little as Bindo approached.

Observing proper manners, he identified himself, “I am a Grend.”

The creature looked unblinkingly at him.

Trying again Bindo tapped his chest and said, “Grend.”

The creature tilted its head at him and tapped itself and said, “Gef.”

Bindo had never heard of the Gef species before, but he was very young. They must be from very far away.

He looked down at the wound in the creature and cringed a little. It looked very painful. He took a cursory look over the rest of the alien and discovered cybernetic implants in one of its arms. Some kind of display was built in to the plating on one of its appendages. Similarly integrated across its back was what looked like a long tool of some kind with only the handle showing.

Bindo returned his focus to the injury on the creature. As he did so, it took hold of the branch and attempted to pull it out. It cried out in pain and dropped its arm weakly to its side. Bindo took hold of the branch and pulled. The creature screamed in pain again but the offending branch was soon free. The creature moved the arm on the uninjured side to touch the cybernetic implant. It worked the controls and in a moment some kind of foam filled the hole in its carapace. The bleeding stopped, but the creature went still.

Bindo stood over it still holding the branch. He had no idea what to do. Dropping the bloody piece of wood, he reached down and grabbed the arm with the cybernetic implant and looked at the readings. They showed pulsing indicators. Hopefully that meant it was still alive.

Unsure what to do next, he decided to make a fire. The nights got cold on Tuniv Three. He set up the fire in a way his father taught him so the logs would drop in to keep it going all night. After dragging the ridiculously heavy alien into the warmth, he headed home.

On his way back he wrestled with the thought of telling his parents. He knew they would want to immediately head out to investigate if he did. They would most likely tell the rest of the settlement soon after. That may be good or bad for the Gef. Bindo didn’t like the idea of the settlement finding out.

Nobody trusted strangers here. The few times traders stumbled across them and tried to visit they were sent away. Everyone said that the only way to keep away from the Krador was to become isolated far away from anything that could draw their attention. It was an ideology that had served them well for the past five years.

Bindo decided he wanted to tell his parents everything. They would know how to help the Gef better than he did and it was pretty clear the alien needed help.

His father met him in the fields. Scraping some dirt off his legs he said, “Hello my boy! You are home late. Have some good stories for us tonight I hope?”

Bindo smiled at his dad and said, “The best. I found an alien in the woods!”

A pleased expression crossed his father’s weary face as he responded, “Oh! Is that so? Why don’t we wash up and you can tell us all about it over some food?”

When everyone had washed the dirt of the day away and the Tamsa roots were boiled his mother said, “Your father tells me you found an alien in the woods!”

Bindo shared the events of the day as they lounged on large soft cushions around the fireplace. His parents listened intently as he went on about what the ship looked like and the small alien creature with its odd upper appendages and strange hard skin. Every now and then they would ask for clarification on some point. As Bindo replied they would often look at each other and smile.

When the story was done Bindo asked them, “What do you think I should do to help it survive?”

His father said, “Well, if it can survive in our atmosphere it most likely needs water to survive. You could take it some tomorrow. Do you still have the canteen I gave you last season?”

Bindo sat up and said, “I do! That’s a great idea. Mommy, can you make me some Tamsa root to take tomorrow too?”

His mother looked at his father for a moment and hesitantly said, “I could do that. You have to promise me that anything the Gef doesn’t eat you will eat though. I don’t want to waste food.”

He thought about this for a moment and said, “But what if it doesn’t eat it right away?”

His mother looked amused and said, “Well, I suppose you could leave the food with it and check back the next day to see if it was eaten. If it doesn’t eat it I still want you to though. Tamsa root stays good for a while after it is cooked and you know we can’t waste food.”

At this his father interjected and said, “Yes, yes, you told him not to waste food already. Make up some for him early tomorrow and he can take it and some water to his Gef friend.”

It was getting dark outside and his mother sat up on her cushion and stretched. The clicking of her back plates indicated to everyone it was a good stretch. She usually did this when she was about to send Bindo to bed.

Shifting her shoulders back and forth a little to further loosen her muscles she said, “Well my child, the darkness has come and it is time for us all to rest.”

He went to his room and his parents came in to wish him a good sleep. As usual, they stayed up a bit longer and spoke as they washed up and prepared the household for the next day. He usually fell asleep right away but tonight he couldn’t. There was too much to think about and his mind was racing. As he lay in bed thinking he heard his parents talking in the next room.

“He has an amazing imagination. In the old days he would have made a lovely storyteller,” he heard his mother say.

His father responded, “Yes, he does at that. How he comes up with so much detail in a moment astounds me. It was like he actually did find an alien in the woods today.”

His mother spoke up with a slightly concerned tone and said, “Do you really want me to make up extra Tamsa root for him tomorrow? You haven’t been eating enough for weeks now and I am afraid it will be wasted.”

His father responded in a relaxed tone, “Yes, make up some extra. It may just be his way of asking for more food without making us feel bad about it. He is smart and sensitive. He knows we don’t have much and he is too giving to ask. He is growing out of his plates and will be molting again soon. You remember how hungry you get before a molting?”

His mother sighed and said, “Yes, I do. I will make sure he gets a good amount tomorrow. You are a good mate and provider my husband.”

His father responded with a little hint of mirth is his voice, “Of course I am. You were very wise to accept my proposal.”

The quiet sound of his mother playfully hitting his father’s plates was drowned out by the sound of their soft laughter.

Contented and distracted by this, Bindo drifted off to sleep.

The next morning the sun beamed through the window into his face. He groggily sat up out of the annoying brightness and yawned as he rolled his torso around in a stretch. The clicks and pops of his plates shifting around seemed loud in the quiet room. Standing up off his sleeping mat, he went over and opened the door to the rest of the house. The pleasant smell of boiled Tamsa root wafted in and he stood there enjoying it as his eyes adjusted to the brightness before him. After a light breakfast he took the food his mother prepared for him, filled his canteen, and headed out.

He arrived at the alien’s crashed ship in about two hours. He was pleased to see the Gef sitting up tending the fire. It looked up at him with that giant eye.

Bindo stepped forward and said, “I am here!”

Without waiting for a reply he stepped forward and held out the canteen and food to the creature. It slowly reached out and took both of the offerings. It placed the container with the Tamsa root on the ground and held the canteen up. It shook it a little while holding it up to the side of its head. The water sloshed around and the creature then started fiddling with the canteen.

After a moment of watching the Gef unsuccessfully manipulate the canteen, Bindo reached out his hand and said, “Here, let me show you.”

The alien handed the canteen back to him and he squeezed the buttons that opened it.

He handed it back to the Gef and said, “That’s how you do it.”

The creature looked into the canteen and then dipped one of its digits in. A single drop clung to the creature’s finger and it guided the liquid to the cybernetic implant on its arm. A moment passed as the device analyzed the water and then flashed to solid green. The Gef lifted the canteen to take a drink. A tube extended out of its head below the giant eye. It placed the tube like mouth in the water and began to drink. It finished the water off then leaned back against the ship and visibly relaxed. It was apparently very thirsty.

Bindo hadn’t considered it may be a tube feeder. He felt a little silly and said, “I guess you can’t eat the food I brought.”

He walked over and sat next to the Gef. He reached down and opened the container of Tamsa roots and took one out to bite a piece off. The alien examined him as he did this. It reached out and took a piece for itself and placed it on the sensor of the implant. The indicator turned green again and it put the food back in the container.

Bindo spent his time that day with the Gef. He spoke to it, and it tried speaking back from time to time. The creature’s odd babbling noises made no sense at all to Bindo but he didn’t care. He was just happy to have some company.

He noticed that it moved like it was in pain. It understandably favored the arm opposite the wound in its chest area. It was amazing that it even survived that kind of injury. Gef truly were a resilient species.

Pointing to the injury he said, “Hurt.”

The alien looked at him a moment then pointed to his wound and said in an odd accent, “Hurt.”

Bindo wobbled his head in affirmation. The rest of the day was taken up with Bindo teaching the Gef how to speak useful words of the Grend language.

A couple hours before dinner time, Bindo decided it was time to head back home. He picked up the empty canteen and started to move toward the container of food. The alien quickly reached out and opened the container and took a few of the boiled roots out. Bindo saw and was confused by that. He didn’t think the creature could eat Tamsa given its mouth parts

He drew his hand away from the container and said, “You can have it. Just make sure you don’t waste it or my mom will get upset with me.”

Turning to begin working his way through the Vree grass he said, “I will come back tomorrow with more water. If you manage to eat that Tamsa I will bring more.” With that Bindo turned and headed back home.

The evening passed as countless had before it. Bindo and his parents sat on their large cushions eating their food and listening to their child tell stories about the adventures of the day. His parents praised him for his vivid imagination and attention to detail and as the night drew in everyone went to sleep.

The next day when Bindo emerged from the Vree grass he said, “I am here!”

Looking over the area, he saw the Gef had taken some tree boughs and made a sleeping mat. Also, much to his interest, the Tamsa was almost completely gone.

“You ate it?” he said, pointing at the container.

The creature turned its head to see what he was pointing at and made a movement with its head Bindo didn’t understand. It lifted one appendage to its face and tapped where the tube had come out. Bindo understood and was very excited.

“Good!” he said, “I have been wondering what I could feed you. It will be so much easier now that I know you can have the same food we can!” The day went on much as the one before and Bindo and the Gef   slowly became more and more accustomed to one another.

Bindo’s visits continued on for a few weeks. Every morning he would come out of the Vree grass and announce, “I am here!” before offering the food and water to his friend.

He was teaching it parts of his language. While his pupil was somewhat hampered by not having the proper mouth parts for his speech, it was clear it was comprehending more and more every day. One day, Bindo had quite a surprise when the conversation drifted into their exodus from the old colony world. The alien seemed to perk up and become very interested the moment he said the word, “Krador.”

“Krador here?” The Gef asked in simple broken words.

Bindo was startled at this question and sat up. He asked in simple words, “You know Krador?”

The alien sat staring at him with that huge eye and said, “Yes. Krador bad.”

The Gef went to his broken ship and reached into the cockpit and retrieved a strange black box. He presented it to Bindo.

Pointing to a button on the side he said in his highly broken Grend, “This far talk. You find me. Bad come. Help me.”

Due to the language barrier still being nearly insurmountable, Bindo and his companion made little headway beyond the simple exchange. It was clear both of them wanted to discuss it in more depth but they just didn’t have the language tools. Bindo would have loved one of the translators his parents had told him about but they were extremely expensive in the colony. They were costly to them at least.

A week and a half later, tragedy struck Bindo’s family.

His father had been working with some farming equipment in the field and was badly injured when it malfunctioned. It was an old second hand piece of equipment that was an antique by modern galactic standards. With the need for haste in their exodus, most families got whatever they could off planet or as they passed through some of the populated systems on their way to the deep periphery. As his father was neither a farmer nor was he particularly wealthy it was the best they could do. Normally farming injuries were very uncommon. The harvester had not undergone proper maintenance for many years because they simply couldn’t afford it. When the systems started shutting down for potential safety issues Bindo’s dad had disabled the sensors so it would not trigger the safety stops.

It happened in the morning as Bindo was just heading into the forest. There was a loud metallic clang followed by his father crying out in pain. Worry flooded through Bindo as he ran as fast as he could toward the harvester. Off to his left his mother threw open the door to their house and after surveying the situation also began running for the huge machine.

When he got there his father was unconscious. Upon seeing how severe the injuries were he completely panicked. There was so much blood. One of his legs had a deep cut across the whole upper thigh portion down almost to his knee. Bindo stood there frozen.

His mother soon arrived and after surveying her mate’s injuries she dropped down and put her hands over the gash in an attempt to stop the blood flow. It was not working well enough. With deepest sorrow she said, “Bindo, your father is not going to live. The injuries are too severe. You should take this moment to say goodbye while some part of him may still hear you.”

He looked again at the injury and just couldn’t look away. The last time he had ever seen anything close to this level of physical trauma was the first time he met…

A thought hit his mind like a lightning bolt and he scrambled to open his bag. His mother looked on in sorrow and confusion as he poured the contents out completely on the ground. There it was. The black box the Gef had given him.

He picked it up and pressed the button and trying to keep his words simple and short said, “Gef! Help! Father hurt bad! Come! Help!”

A moment that seemed like days passed and a voice came out of the box, “Yes. I come. Help.”

Looking at the box his mother asked, “What is that? Where did you get it? Who were you talking to?”

Bindo locked eyes with her and said, “They weren’t stories momma. The Gef is real and in the woods. I am not sure if it will get here in time but all the things I described, the special medicine it used, how it healed from its injury, it’s all true. I called him. He is coming.”

Bindo looked across the fields to the tree line and asked, “It takes two hours to get to it. Do you think Daddy will live long enough for it to get here?”

He saw the hope fade in her eyes as she said, “There are very few medical technologies in the galaxy that could save him now. I am fearful your father will not last even 20 minutes.”

He dropped down and put his hands on his father’s wound to help stop the bleeding and cried.

After a subjective eternity of somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes they heard faint noises of crashing coming from the forest. It kept getting louder until, from one of the thickets, the Gef burst through the foliage with near explosive force. It was running straight for them at amazing speed. Bits of wood, vines, and leaves that had collected on it during its rampaging pace through the woods rained off. It traversed the fields between them with unfathomable speed. Slung across its back it carried a white case Bindo had seen in camp once when it was healing from its injuries. Within mere moments after emerging from the forest it was sliding to a stop and kneeling down to assess the injuries to his father.

It opened the white case and Bindo saw it had various tools inside. The Gef reached out and ran a finger through Bindo’s father’s blood and then wiped it on a small square in the kit. The screen flashed with lettering and an image of an adult Grend. The Gef poked a box on the screen with some alien symbols in it and a light began pulsing on one of the tools. It took the device out of its holder and Bindo noticed a small tube connecting it to the kit. Gently the Gef pushed Bindo and his mother’s hands away from the wound.

It looked at them and said, “No hold.”

They both backed away and held one another hoping with everything in them this strange creature could help their dying family member. He was so pale from blood loss.

The Gef carefully inserted the tool into the wound. A blue sparkling liquid began flowing through the tube and filling the gash in his leg. As they watched in amazement the bleeding stopped and the wound began contracting and closing as if it were being pulled together from the inside.

Bindo’s mother whispered in disbelief, “Those are Raylian trauma nanites. I had only ever heard rumors about them.”

The Gef put the tool back in its place and retrieved a second instrument out of the case. It was attached by a thin wire. He waved it slowly over the injured Grend and an image began resolving on the screen in the kit. It continued this process while looking at the display. When the scanning was complete, the alien put the tool away and poked at the images again. The kit began beeping an alarm and one of the tools lit up. The Gef took the strange implement out. This one had a more substantial tube attached to it. Another light in the kit began blinking and the Gef pulled out a large needle and attached it to the end. The Gef then held the needle out over Bindo’s father and a small light beam indicated a spot of his body. He slowly lowered the tool and the little dot remained fixed on a part of his father’s carapace.

With a sharp thrust it inserted the needle into his father. A cloudy white fluid began flowing through the tube and the Gef turned to once more study the display. It interacted with the screen again and another tool lit up. It took it out and held it over the injured leg. It sprayed a thick, almost clumpy, material over the injury site and it foamed briefly then formed a transparent coating over the wound.

Holding the scanner over the injured Grend again, it waved it back and forth until it was satisfied at the results of its efforts. It then put the tools away and sat back. It was only then that Bindo realized it had been breathing heavily the whole time.

Slumping from fatigue it turned its giant eye at Bindo and his mother and said, “Safe.”

Bindo’s father steadily recovered. He woke up on the third day and after getting some water asked what happened. He sat on a giant pillow and just took in everything in. He had a hard time really understanding any of their explanation until they led the little Gef into the room.

A month passed and Bindo’s family had made a place in the equipment shed for their new friend. They offered to find room in their small house but it refused and pointed to the shed. It kept learning more of their language and Bindo became more attached. When his father was still convalescing and taking things slowly, the Gef roughly communicated that it wanted to help with the work of the farm. Bindo’s mother showed it some basic things about how their machines and tools worked and it used them very well. It didn’t take long to learn the Gef species was strong and incredibly fast. Considering its size, it was amazingly strong. It took over many of the daily chores that would otherwise go undone and ended up being quite a help to their little family.

It was particularly good at finding new and interesting ways to eat Tamsa. Indicating it wanted to help in the kitchen one evening, it boiled them and then smashed it into a kind of paste and added sodium chloride crystals to it and made a very pleasant dish. The one they were perhaps most intrigued by was when it made a kind of shaved crispy wafer out of it. It made these by taking a pot of Tamsa oil and heating it very hot. It then dropped in thin shaved sections of Tamsa root and cooked them to a crispy texture. These were then scooped out of the oil and while they were still hot and oily the alien added sodium chloride crystals. Once when it made these they heard it mutter to itself, “Poh-tay-tos.”

One day when Bindo was going to get tools he noticed the Gef taking an interest in their small supply of element 29. It dipped its finger into the bluish-green powder and touched it to the device on its arm. The screen came up with some alien writing.

“It is fertilizer. Do you know that word?” Bindo asked.

The Gef looked over at him and said, “No. What is?”

Bindo went over to him and acted like he was scooping out some of the powder and then mimed mixing it with the dirt.

“It is food for Tamsa. This planet is bad for Tamsa. Tamsa needs this,” he said as he pointed to the small quantity of the precious material.

The alien seemed to ponder that for a moment then said, “Tamsa hurt?”

“Yes,” Bindo said, “Tamsa sick.” He then pointed to the field and then to his house and continued, Tamsa sick, family sick. Daddy sick. Mommy sick. Long time sick.”

The Gef looked at him quietly for a few moments then said, “Understand.”

More time passed and it was getting to the end of harvest season. The family had used up all its remaining supply of element 29 and still had many fields to treat. With how little they had, it insured next year would be a very poor harvest. The Gef seemed to understand and kept accepting less and less for its portions at mealtime.

Bindo’s father and the Gef were out harvesting the last field in the cool morning before the dry season. As if hearing a noise in the sky, the alien suddenly straitened in the field and looked up. It put a hand to the side of its head and started making sounds.

A moment later Bindo ran out of the house holding the black box up and shouting, “Daddy, the box has a new voice on it! It’s a Broda but I don’t know what they are saying!”

Bindo’s father limped over to the Gef and asked, “What is it? What is happening?”

The Gef turned to look at him and said, “Go house. Close house. Close, close, close. Krador come!”

Terror flooded through Bindo and his father at the word. With the help of the alien friend they were soon in their house. Once they confirmed all of them were inside, they began barricading doors and windows. If it really was the Krador, the parents knew it would make little difference. They would not survive this.

Before the last door was blocked off the Gef stepped outside.

Utter bewilderment came over the little family and Bindo said, “No! Krador kill you! No go out!”

The Geff looked at the family as they entreated him to come into the miniscule safety their home afforded and said, “I am here.”

It closed the door and began walking toward the forest.

Against Bindo’s protests, his parents blockaded the door. The room went dark as all the windows and doors were blocked off. Only small motes of light pierced the tense darkness. Bindo moved to a small hole in the barricade and peered out to try and see his friend.

A minute later there was a low rumbling sound and a medium Broda transport ship came down out of the sky. It had three Krador spines lodged in it. One had completely destroyed an engine. Far up in the sky behind it was a Krador hunting vessel in pursuit.

The ship crashed down through the trees into the forest near the field. Splintered wood and scattered vegetation billowed out from under the wounded giant. The Krador soon landed in the field next to it. The Gef moved over to one edge of the field and waited.

With a loud hissing noise, the external doors of the Krador ship opened. Moments later the vile swarm began flooding out. They headed toward the downed Broda transport. When a large group of them had emerged from the ship, the Gef yelled something from its language across the fields at them.

They stopped and turned toward the challenger. They cried out in an ear piercing scream of rage and charged it. The Gef casually reached around and pulled out the tool it carried everywhere on its back. It was a long piece of metal with a handle on it.

Bindo’s father was looking out a different hold in the barricade and said, “Look away my son. I don’t want you to see this.”

He did as he was told and went to hug his mother. He had never lost a close friend before. Children are never prepared for such things.

Bindo’s father looked away and moved to embrace his family. A distant cracking sound followed closely with a loud pop was what they heard next. The same combination of noises repeated itself a dozen times over the next minute. It was very peculiar.

Curiosity got the better of Bindo’s father. He returned to the window to see what was happening.

The Gef was leading a pursuing group of Krador around the field. He would take a few steps then lash out with the metal tool and the nearest Krador would explode into a chunky and oily blue end. All through the fields he performed this dance of death. The Krador were not as fast as he was and had yet to land a claw or pincer on him.

More and more Krador were beginning to emerge from the ship and make their way toward the Gef. Their numbers forced him to retreat into other fields. This went on for nearly an hour as the vile swarm harried their friend all across every field they owned.

Eventually the Gef’s pursuers thinned out significantly. The alien started working its way back toward the Broda ship. When it got to about 20 meters of the door of the Krador ship it broke contact with the pursing mob and ran straight for the hunting vessel. The doors started to close but the Gef dodged past the hunters exiting the ship and dove inside. The doors reopened and all the Krador went into their starship.

Two hours later in the heat of the day, the Gef emerged from the Krador ship completely coated in their oily blue blood. It made its way over to the Broda ship and was met at one of the airlocks by a 15 foot tall Broda. They spoke for a moment then disappeared into the Broda ship.

Bindo’s father was dumbstruck. He turned to his family and quietly said, “It’s over. We are safe. The Krador are dead. The Gef killed them all.”

They began deconstructing the barricades in their house and putting things in order. When they were about half way through, they heard a knock on the door. Opening it, they saw a recently showered Gef.

In a slightly mechanized voice it said in perfect Grend, “Hello. It’s good to finally be able to talk to you. Are you all ok in here?”

The three of them were dumbstruck.

It continued, “The Broda repaired my translation module and update it with the Grend language. I wanted to thank you for your kind treatment and formally introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Jeff Wilson. I am a pilot for the Explorer Corps. My species is known as Human.”

Bindo was confused by all this and asked, “But you said your species was Gef.”

Lieutenant Wilson shook his head and explained, “I’m sorry we misunderstood each other. I was telling you my name, not the name of my species.”

Bindo’s father spoke up and said, “Now that you can understand me, I want to say thank you for saving my life. Without you my mate would be a widow, and my offspring fatherless.”

Jeff reached up and started working with something around his neck. A moment later he started pulling his head off! The three of them were taken thoroughly aback when they saw that what they thought this whole time was his head was really a helmet.

Jeff said, “My atmospheric analyzer was damaged when my ship crashed. I was relying on my suit helmet to filter out the air here in case there was anything harmful to me. Other than taking it off privately to eat and clean myself, I have had it on these past few months continually. It was one of the first things I discussed it with the Broda and they informed me your atmosphere is completely safe for me to breathe. I wanted you to see my face finally.”

The four of them stepped out of the house. The formerly tan dirt fields looked as if someone had spilled a huge can of blue paint over everything. Krador viscera and chitin lay strewn about every field they had.

“What a mess this will be to clean up,” Bindo’s father said with a slightly depressed tone.

They stared at it for a moment then Jeff broke the silence, “I looked it up in the translator before I came over. We have a name for element 29 in our language. We call it copper.”

Bindo’s mother spoke up next, “That is an odd thing to look up. Why did you do that?”

A smile played on Jeff’s face as he said, “Because it is a major component of Krador blood.”

Bindo looked over the blue fields and said with awe in his voice, “You did this on purpose?”

Jeff looked over at Bindo, the smile never leaving his expression, and said, “Maybe a little.”

The next season saw Bindo’s family fields produce the healthiest crop of Tamsa ever grown on their world. They regained their health and grew in wealth. Eventually they started a food production business with, “Salted Tamsa Flakes,” as its flagship product.

Their rags to riches story became a great source of inspiration and local pride in the colony. For years after everyone would happily munch away at Salted Tamsa Flakes and jovially tell and retell the story of Bindo and the Gef  .