Part of the Graingy Christmas Special.
Other part: SAN-74 "Candygram"

Edit 27/2/24:
Saga of Kindness 2-(>(1-?))
Second written, Chronologically comes after Visit to Ostik.
[Previous]

Written by me, with editing help from my sister.

First written thing of mine I've ever published publicly. If you are interested or have any tips/suggestions, let me know. If you want me to never do something like this as long as I live, well, I can't exactly stop you from saying that but c'mon :(

If this is against site rules... oof.

From up far above, an endless plain of softly lit grey, drifted down silently the seeds from which a world would briefly bloom. One of clean white sheen, all turned material by pristine blankets of white, the worries in the mind and the pains of the body rested into a heavenly, cool embrace. All to be calm, all to be a real. All to be renewed, all to be…
“Completely drenched by morning.”
Kindness thought with an audible huff, crushing the cheap holiday card she held in her left hand. She’d found the paper wonderland lying abandoned and covered in dirt on the sidewalk; trampled by the careless boots of the men, women, children, and the undecided who claimed, and admittedly did seem, to care so much about this odd holiday.
Christmas.
She’d known about it before visiting Earth-1. She’d read as much as she could get her hands on. Its origins, the ways its celebrated, its meaning to humans, and how socialist authorities self-justified celebrating it in a way that they convinced themselves was ideologically pure. She knew that it dominated the end of the year in many countries, that it kept creeping earlier, and that a blonde woman was kept cryogenically frozen for most of the year, only to be thawed out in the waning days to prey on the minds of retail workers far and wide.
Okay, that one she knew was a joke, but still, she’d done her reading.
And yet. And yet.
It. Was. EVERYWHERE.
She’d made her way south since visiting that mental case xenophile town, Ostik, taken a turn into an inland detour, and now found herself just a few kilometers west of the creatively named city of West Vancouver. Specifically, her position was in a village with a major ferry terminal nearby, something she wished she’d known about before travelling hundreds of kilometers by foot. Her species, while acceptably efficient on the muscle level, and exceptionally efficient in terms of nutrition and digestion, had a notable lack of energy reserves, at least as far as supporting long-distance sprinting. Instead of galloping along at highway speeds on all fours, she’d trudged along highways and through mountainous forests, often without paths. She was of pretty average build, 189cm and by no means skinny, so the terrain wasn’t exactly difficult, just tiring. At least the alien ecosystem gave her a lot to look at, with its pleasant abundance of green. That was one thing she liked about Earth.
Unlike the snow-white bright glare of the card, the world around her was decidedly not hidden by mountains and mountains of frozen water. It was damp and grey, though she hardly had a right to be surprised, considering where she was. All there was to be seen was shrubs, trees, short buildings, and from some angles, the ocean. She hardly planned on staying in Horseshoe Bay, having trekked all the way down to see Vancouver itself. Still, she didn’t want to walk another step if she could help it. Her salvation came in the form of a semi truck which she found perfectly well-suited to climb onto. Legal? No, but she didn’t really care.
As the truck made its way along the highway, cold wind blowing past Kindness’s jacket-wrapped form, she found herself thinking about the card. She hadn’t thrown it out, strangely. Perhaps she’d take it home as a souvenir.
She’d seen almost all her world had to offer, so was keen to travel to the “Blue Marble” soon as she got the chance. Still, she’d yet to be too impressed. Perhaps her mistake: starting with the more recently settled North American continent. Supposedly there were some old temples in Mexico, but it would be a while before she had even seen the Great White North enough to hit the States. What she was really dreading was Russia, larger than even the largest nation back home, though she supposed, with the right mindset, that Earth’s landmass was actually slightly smaller than her planet’s, so really it was all in her head.
She told herself that, at least.
She felt the card in her pocket. Crumpled paper, otherwise unremarkable. Clearly mass-produced and sold in the thousands, it was nothing special, but it was a lightweight representation of this Christmas holiday that was so ubiquitous. Her attention was forced to her destination as the city center came into view. It’d be a quick visit, in and out, with not much to see. It was the third largest in the country, so she’d pass by regardless.
Hopping off the truck by a bus stop (literally), she waited and boarded a bus, paying the fare in coins emblazoned with surprisingly intricate little images. National symbol on one side, dead monarch on the other. It was one thing she actually rather jealous of, coins back home being far simpler and more utilitarian in design, usually just a plain number engraved on circles cast in a coloured alloy. She just wished the coins were as colourful as the bills. Silver dimes, silver nickels, silver quarters. Boring. She was ninety-percent certain that the citizens of the country, and of that south, as a matter of fact, had a tough time telling the quarters and nickels apart at a glance, but she didn’t bother to ask.
She went from bus to train, train to crowded streets. She’d wander aimlessly for a day or two, maybe visit the city park. And so she did.
And the whole time the dirty little card sat crumpled inside her pocket.
By the end of day two she was ready to head out, but before she left she went to a small shop to buy a more locally-themed card to replace the filthy, crumpled one she picked up back in Horseshoe bay. It was clearly made for tourists, text reading “Merry Christmas from Vancouver” above a stylized drawing of a smiling salmon wearing a red hat poking its head out of a river. Total cheese, and fully ridiculous, but that’s what souvenirs usually are.
Her visit had been going quite normally, all things considered. But, of course, considering who was serving as her travel agency, Kindness simply could not be left alone.
Sitting by the water in an inlet park, claws whittling a stick into a nonsense shape even she didn’t understand, Kindness heard the heavy thud of a machine touching ground. Not just any machine, it was-
“Oh, hello Kindness!” An MS-S2 greeted her, standing a few meters behind.
Kindness drew a shuddering breath, preparing for whatever dumb shit was inevitably to come.
“Hello, MS,” she said coldly, turning her head only slightly to allow her right eye to get a glance at the machine. As with all MS-S2s, it was a short little yellow thing. What was different, however, was its attire. Frankly, the fact that it wore anything was abnormal, what it was only more so. Atop the MS’s head was a stretched Santa hat. It very obviously hadn’t been made with the… peculiar shape of Soian Standard heads in mind, but the MS also very obviously did not care. Stretching even a millimetre more would probably turn the thing into a fabric bomb. Any consideration the machine had or had not given this fact was in the past, however, so Kindness didn’t bother bringing it up.
“Hi!” It responded cheerfully. Its rectangular mouthpiece had formed the greatest approximation of a smile it was physically capable of, and its stare was totally blank, even technically if it was projecting bright pupils into the two light blue rectangles. An inverted-triangle face of three rectangles.
“Hello… You have a num-”
“MS-111,” the MS interrupted, passively kicking a rock across the inlet. Divine strength be damned, however, for it skipped a half dozen times before crashing violently, spraying a couple drifting in a canoe with cold seawater.
“Thanks… so, do you need something? Or are you just here to bother me?” Kindness tried to move the interaction along, hopefully towards a near conclusion. Soian units were never fun to deal with. They were, after all, the sort to provoke a global conflict and then bail the moment someone might ask them to help end it just because doing so would be ‘no fun’. In her lapse of focus she accidentally snapped her little wooden “sculpture” in two, though wasn’t very troubled by this.
“Yes, well, funny story…” MS-111 began awkwardly, tapping his yellow plated fingers together. The material, being too hard for noticeable vibrations, barely made a sound.
“Yes?” Kindness was already dreading what he was about to say.
“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a metal barrel with a white band painted around it, have you?” 111 gave her an almost pleading look.
“Have you? You’re the ‘angel’ here, after all,” Kindness grumbled with a huff, turning her eye back out to the water and its gently lapping waves. She wanted to enjoy the moment of rest, at least before the tide came in. Why did that stupid, passive, uncaring, pile of not-matter have to show up with the business of their empire of problems?
“Funny, funny,” MS-111 sighed out, though it came out sounding more like a hollow hum, “I can’t expect you to know the inner day-to-day workings of our empire, it’s supposed to be like that after all, but it just so happens that today I am busy. My sensors are almost all out-facing currently, so there’s only so much looking I, or my colleagues for that matter, can do in this universe at this time. My question stands: Have you, or have you not, seen a metal barrel with a white band painted around it?”
Kindness was still for a few seconds, then quietly stood up, turned around, and walked to within a half-meter of MS-111. She looked down at the powerful construct, large brown eyes meeting blue glowing sensors, and spoke clearly and deliberately in the Ances language, her native tongue, as if clarity would make the painful interaction go any faster “I have. I saw it laying in Furry Creek. It was being handled by a group of young men, who were having difficulty moving it. I watched them for a minute, then moved on.”
MS-111, who’s expression had turned a hard neutral stare, froze in place. Not the slightest tremor or whir of a motor escaped his smooth plating. Kindness swayed to the side. His head did not follow. Hoping she could use 111’s seemingly paralyzed state to slip by, she sidestepped the robot and cautiously shuffled away. She didn’t get far, however, when the loud click of 111’s neck turning 180 degrees forced her back into facing the dreaded machine.
“I could spare a moment of sensor power. It is not there,” MS-111 declared. His head being on backwards was sort of unsettling, but Kindness didn’t say anything.
“Well, doesn’t that just suck. What’d’ya want me to do about it?” Kindness remarked sarcastically, dragging a grey hand down the side of her skull. She was getting sick of this.
“Well, I’m glad you asked!”
“Oh no.”
“I was hoping that maybe – if you’re up for it – you could, y’know, go look for it?” MS-111 had his hands together and was twisting his foot against the mud, as if he were a child trying to puppy-eye his way into getting a chocolate bar. It was clearly intended humorously, but the childishness of it still felt like sandpaper on Kindness’s brain.
“Why?” She felt she’d regret asking.
“Because it’s a snowfall induction cannon! Lowers atmospheric temperatures and induces snow from clouds without causing cyclones!” 111 explained, fake cheerfulness having returned in full force.
She regretted asking.
“Why would yo- oh right.” Kindness deflated, realizing what this was about. That. STUPID. Holiday.
“Now you’re catching on! Say, if you could get it back to us by the 24th I might just be able to get you a special reward!” MS-111’s attempts to get her excited were failing miserably, not for a lack of effort.
“You know, right now you’re reminding me of that fictional character. Teeth Man,” Kindness commented, perhaps as a sort of harmless pressure vent of the building aggressive impulses she felt festering in the depths of her mind. She had too much self control to take a swing at the machine, and even if she did he’d kick her ass to the next dimension. Literally.
“Yes, yes, very,” 111 waved absentmindedly. He had turned to the side, facing the setting sun behind the clouds out west. It was 3:43 PM. His index finger and thumb slowly stroked his chin. The MS’s supposedly did things that that to make it easier for humans to relate to them, making them less uncanny and intimidating, but to Kindness it just made them seem even more fake. “Well, the offer stands. If you can find it, and better yet, get it to a spot overlooking Burrard Inlet, I’ll give ya something, got it?”
Kindness stared incredulously. Did this boltless dolt really think she’d delay her multi-year worldwide trip just to go out All-knows-where just to find a stupid barrel!? She’d hardly ever heard things so du-
“I’ll give you a hundred thousand Soian Dollars.”
That shut Kindness up. She could really use that sort of money. Really use it. She didn’t have a choice, did she?
“Uh… okay, but… I thought that Soia had agreed not to interfere with Earth-1 events? Which would include most forms of weather?” Kindness queried. Soia had a somewhat similar agreement with her home world, as far as she understood.
“Pfft, what’re they gonna do, stop buying Graingy products? Yeah right, reeaally scaring us there,” MS-111 snorted (despite his lack of nose).
“Yes, yeah, sure. So long as I don’t get held responsible, of course?” Kindness didn’t want to get blamed for shutting down air travel and causing car crashes.
“Don’t worry, nobody will see you. I’ll be sure of it!” 111 flashed her a thumbs up and a wink.
“But if you can hide me then why can’t you get the thing yourself-”
“Okaythanksbye!” MS-111 rocketed away before she could point out the (probably intentional) holes in his logic, leaving nothing but the echoing shriek of his propulsion system and the deafening thunder of a sonic boom.
Kindness stared despondent at the rapidly shrinking prick of light as it shot further and further into the sky, before long disappearing into the overcast. She let out a groan which quickly turned into an enraged scream. She picked up a large rock and threw it with all her strength into the frigid blue, like she was sending away her anger in material form. The splash certainly helped, though she was still pissed. Well, now she hardly had a choice. She needed to get that barrel.

Over yet another log she dragged herself. She’d learned the hard way a while back that trying to use her claws to grip the bark would just result her coming loose and falling back on her ass, so she was forced to do things the old way: handholds and branches. Sure, she could go around, or jump, but she didn’t have the time or energy for either. It was cold and damp in the forest on a path she’d taken for lack of a good spot to climb aboard another truck, and still she was only halfway to where she needed to start looking. MS-111 had, apparently, dropped a plastic plate with a vague lead printed on it, so she wasn’t entirely without direction. Still, it basically just said “Go west from last known location” and little more.
She was about to bite through a tree to make a bridge over a stream when she heard voices. Decidedly human, she couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing so deep in the woods. Peaking over yet another fallen tree (there sure were a lot, weren’t there?) she caught sight of them. A group of four, and a dog, all bundled up in brightly coloured sweaters, each carrying a carboard box. They seemed to be looking for something, as they were all looking this way and that at the surrounding trees. Kindness followed them for a few minutes, when they seemed to find what they were looking for.
Three of the four set down their boxes, all looking up at one tree, whereas the fourth opened theirs. They pulled grappling hook out of it and started swinging. With practiced fluidity they released the instrument, letting inertia pull it into a meeting with a thick, strong branch high above. It caught firmly, and with a few test tugs, was secure. The thrower set about quickly pulling themselves up towards the canopy above. Kindness was impressed by their skill. Sure, she could’ve done that with one arm cut off, but for a human it was damn impressive. The climber tied a safety cord around the trunk, giving an affirmative to their accomplices to start… whatever they were trying to do.
One of the people still on the ground hooked their box to the grappling hook and the tree man pulled it up. While Kindness couldn’t tell what was inside from her vantage point, he seemed pleased, marveling at its contents. He let the rope back down where another was waiting. While the next struggled a bit more, she made her way up without incident, bringing the number of money-imitators up to two, along with the rest of the boxes. The others, and the dog, seemed intent on staying on the ground. The two in the tree did that gross mouth thing humans in relationships liked to do and started pulling out their box’s contents. Colourful bulbs shone brightly in the dull light of the forest.
“Damnit,” Kindness swore quietly, realizing that this strange ritual was, too, about Christmas.
The tree folk commenced in hanging the colourful orbs from the green needle branches. They made their way around the tree’s circumference, and for some reason Kindness couldn’t help but watch. Sure, her species wasn’t the most artsy, especially compared to humans, but it was interesting to see them work, with all the little considerations they took and the decisions they made. As far as she could tell, they had no overarching plan. They made it all up as they went.
Decorating a random tree in a forest of millions, where nobody would see it and where nobody could appreciate it. Must’ve been a bonding thing.
Kindness figured she’d seen enough, but when she turned to leave she heard a crack, followed by frightened screaming from the decoration party. She whipped her head around, nearly hitting her face against another tree in doing so, and saw that the tree man, who’d been sitting at the end of a rather thin branch, had lost his seating under his weight. The end of the branch was broken and bent, and the man was dangling precariously from it. Instead of falling towards the trunk he’d hung from what was left of the tree branch where his cord had caught, giving him nothing to right himself with.
The others were panicking, the dog barking, as they ran around the base of the great wooden pillar. They appeared to be looking for a long stick, something to give to man a way to move himself towards the trunk, but they could find nothing. The other in the tree was hugged against the trunk, not wanting to risk helping the man in case she lost her footing too.
Kindness weighed her options, and for once decided to live up to her pseudonym. She began jogging towards the band in crisis, calling out for them.
“Hey! You need some help?” She waved, getting the attention of all of them.
One of the two on the ground stuttered out a response “Oh, yes! W-we were trying to- we were decorating this tree and th-the-”
“Yes, yes, I know. I saw it all. You need help, yes?” Kindness cut them off.
“YES, I DO,” The hanging man voiced his agreement clearly.
“Okay. I’ll be right up.” Kindness set herself at the base of the tree. She looked closely at the ridges in the bark, looking for a good place to set her fingers. Confident she’d found a usable pattern, she began to climb. It was easy enough, and in less than a minute she was up where the ill-fated decorator had tied himself to the trunk. With a gentle pull the man came undone, letting him swing towards the center. It knocked the wind out of him, but he was okay.
“You need any more help, or can I go now?” Kindness asked with irritation. She really shouldn’t have to do something like this. A sensible person wouldn’t have gotten themselves into such a situation by doing something so incredible pointless.
“No, I think that’s enough. But thank you! Really! Uh, here,” The formerly dangling man started rummaging through his pockets. He pulled out a small, flat object wrapped in aluminum foil and pushed it into Kindness’s hands. “A Christmas thank-you gift, sir. Or ma’am. I… can’t tell.”
“Irrelevant,” Kindness brushed off, shoving the aluminum thing in her own pocket.
“Damn straight!” One of the two down on the ground hooted in agreement.
“No, I mean literally. My species isn’t sexually dimorphic,” Kindness called down, met by a quiet ‘oh’.
“Will you be going, or…?” The man she’d rescued asked tentatively,
“Or what?”
“Or do you think you could help us get the star on? Please?” The man had brandished a large red star. Kindness knew that those usually went at the top of a Christmas tree, and that the party was probably a lot more wary of their chosen canvas now that they had nearly met disaster.
“… Ahh, screw it. Sure, but just the one.” Kindness snatched the star from the man’s hands and practically threw herself up the rest of the way up the tree. She forcefully stuck it to the top, and just as quickly launched herself from the peak, sailing down to a hard landing on all fours. Her stunt was met with a murmur of appreciation, but she couldn’t be bothered to stay to listen. On through the forest she once again set off.
About half an hour later she remembered her gift. She pulled it out and unwrapped it. Inside was a tree-shaped cookie, meticulously decorated with green icing and shiny spherical sprinkles. She snorted, all the effort for something meant to be eaten, but she supposed it would look pretty clean on display. A dual purpose, if you will.
She ate it in one bite.

Hours more later, and at good pace, she finally reached Furry Creek. It wasn’t anything special, but that was her lead. There was a golf course nearby, but she thought she’d check that last. Trespassing was not a game she wanted to play if she could help it (even if she could take a whole police detachment head-on).
She swivelled her head, trying to find somewhere to begin her search, when she saw it.
The barrel.
It was METERS off the bank of the creek the MS scanned.
METERS.
For a few moments the loudest sound in the world surely had to be none other than the roar of an alien. An alien who had taken the words of a Soian for anything but the most literal possible meaning. An alien who was now throwing rocks at expensive hardware.

Despite the stoning, the barrel wasn’t even dented. Or scratched. Or damaged in any visible form whatsoever. Kindness had plenty of time to be sure of this, as carrying the thing left her hands too full to do anything else but stare at the metal object which was featureless save for the white band of paint. She had picked up the pace, not wanting to spend too much longer on the mind-numbing task. Up the mountain, to the inlet. Her one and only goal. If she met a bear or large cat then it’d sure suck to be that bear or large cat because she was not in the mood for taking prisoners.
She finally crested the mountain, and… in her honest opinion, it was quite the view. She could see the metropolitan city almost in its entirety. That alone may have been worth the sixty kilometers of walking she’d done. Actually, probably not, but at that point Kindness was willing to see the bright side of things if only to keep herself from losing her mind.
Shaking her head back to the task at hand, she set the barrel down with one end, the one with the words POINT THIS END AWAY FROM FACE stenciled on, facing out over the city. As soon as she let go, it began to vibrate rapidly.
“Oh shi-”
Before Kindness could voice her concerns the device went off with a thunderous bang, shooting vast numbers of freezing pellets into the sky. They must’ve been near absolute zero, because the air in their trail was beyond frigid. Up into the sky they sailed, but nothing happened. Deciding that they would probably take a while before taking effect, she began her trip back down the mountain.

Kindness had figured that she might as well stick around a bit longer, if only to see how things went. Sure enough, as Soian engineering typically does, it worked. Thick snow began drifting down from the heavens, with the forecast predicting more of the same at least until the New Year. Catching the news through a window, it turned out that the Lower Mainland wasn’t the only place affected. Worldwide, over two hundred cities had been hit by Soian frostcasting. Graingy, Soia’s Earthbound arm, funded homeless shelters across the globe, so none in any of those two hundred would go cold over the holidays. Except Moscow. However, rumour said that Lenin may have started moving, a few weeks before the hundredth anniversary of his death, so perhaps Russia would be getting a different kind of gift for New Years.
Back at the inlet park, Kindness sat. Back where that damned MS sent her on a pointless side quest. At least the frosted view was pretty.
Her gazing was, once again, interrupted. This time, however, it wasn’t just the heavy thud of a landing, but the all-consuming roar of thrusters. Coming in barely subsonic from the north was a Soian unit. She couldn’t tell if it was an MS-S2, but it was something. When it was directly overhead it began spiralling down, turning tighter and tighter until it spun like a top. When it had stopped covering ground it cut power, sending it plunging like a rock. Unlike her previous visitor, this unit landed in sand, the impact throwing wet grit everywhere and firmly imbedding the robot in sediment. It easily climbed out, of course, but it was far less clean than the gentle touchdown of MS-111. Fully in-view, Kindness could tell that this was no MS.
Before her stood a PS unit, the linear progression of gods to the MS’s angels. This one’s head was crested by a gilded line running down the forehead, one of only two in over five hundred marked in such a strikingly distinct manner. PS-500.
“Hey! You’re D- Kindness, right?” PS-500 pointed at her.
“Yes, I am. Is this about MS-111?”
“It is. He wanted me to give this to you.” PS-500 stepped forward, handing Kindness a small titanium card. On it, in Ances text, were the words “By decree of Soian Military Unit, Minor Series Unit 100, Enstrarch traveller, pseudonym “Kindness”, is to be credited $100,000 SO for use at their leisure.”
“Merry Christmas, Kindness.” PS-500 stepped back, and with a two-finger salute he blasted off into the great white above. Judging by his heading he was probably making a trip up to the ruins of Graingy’s first headquarters in the Yukon.
This, however, did not concern Kindness. She’d see the place some other time. For now, she just wanted to rest.

Over 1,500 kilometers away in the Yukon PS-500 touched ground again. Around him were the remains of the original Graingy headquarters. It stretched a vast distance in every direction, an industrial city left in rot. Soaring above the skyline was the cooling tower of the nuclear plant, its reactor long cold, covered in enough concrete to stop an atomic strike.
While he hadn’t bothered to retrieve a snowfall inductor, he didn’t need one. Through the divine will ingrained in his core he brought the clouds together and demanded snow to fall. A blizzard had been summoned, once again blanketing the dead town in silent white. To the center of the city 500 made way, leaving the only sound that of his heavy footfalls, though even those were dampened by the monochrome cushions of his own creation.
By rotted buildings he trekked, grey concrete faces with shattered glass eyes, eyes which hadn’t seen in decades, for behind them was only darkness. Walls and roofs collapsed in the absence of mourners, and like all but the steadfast certainty of Soian rule they had crumbled. A past left forgotten by the imperial project, they were nothing.
When he reached the center – a roundabout drawing focus to the shattered visage of Graingy’s founder, Daren Sesame – PS-500 popped out from his thigh a door to a pocket dimension, and from that personal realm he drew strands of lights. And with those strands of lights he cast blinking splashes of life into the baren wastes, all emanating from the concrete statue of their founder.
In a way, Daren Sesame was the first leader of Soia, under Geminus’s instructions he worked.
And thus, only in a way.
And surely, in the part he played, that must count for something.

Merry Christmas!