NOTE: I wanted to make a tasteful romance story involving a human survivor and a viper living in City-31, as seen in XCOM Chimera Squad.

The main viper character in this story is very loosely based on Chimera Squad's agent Torque but is not her. This is because Torque is already an established character and the reader might get annoyed with my portrayal of her, expecting something different. I would also like to have free hands as to how I shape the characters I write with. So, for all intents and purposes, they are originals. Also, apologies in advance; grammatical errors abound since English is not my native language. I still hope you'll enjoy!

To all followers of the story: I merged the first three chapters into the prologue because they were simply too fragmented otherwise. The content stays practically identical, save for a couple of 'stitching' sentences between the parts.

All of your reviews are very welcome and keep me wanting to write more! Thank you!

Prologue

Another day came to an end, the sun beginning to lose itself in the vista of City 31's downtown. With its warm rays waning, behind the tall new buildings of the center, more of them reflected warmly off of the waves of the river running through the last bastion of the war's survivors. In this aspect, Angler's Point could be quite lovely, beautiful even. If it were not for run-down alleyways, questionable street hawkers and the occasional muton getting a little bit carried away in a bar brawl.

But it was home for Jason, a human of 28 years; while he had not actively participated in the resistance movement of the Liberation Wars, the man had contributed to the overall effort by taking care of the wounded in the off-grid camps. Those were trying times, albeit for someone born into a world dominated by Advent and the elders, it was somewhat of an easier existence than that of the old-world survivors, who burned with a hatred for the alien enemy and wanted nothing but revenge.

Of course, Jason had never been formally trained; the world's populace was being herded into super-cities where they could be controlled and surveyed. Off-grid, away from their sensors, cameras and psionic influence, there was little in the way of old-world comforts or, indeed, schooling. While child births were inevitable, caring for them was difficult and educating even more so in the new war-torn reality where humans had become slaves and outcasts on their own planet.

Jason spent a lot of his time playing medic in the triage tents which were often empty but could fill in an instant; Advent patrols were common in the wilderness and one wrong step meant a quick and brutal confrontation. Those that managed to survive and did not get captured barely made it back alive, only to die of preventable conditions due to a general lack of medical items, personnel or equipment. Such was the reality of living as an outcast – as a member of the resistance.

They called him 'Snappy' in the camp; a humorous nickname given to him by the wounded and those around the triage tents, because his tutor, a doctor named Gerhart, always ended his requests with a 'and make it snappy'.

"Be a good boy and fetch me the bandages as well as forceps off that table. And make it snappy," he would say, motioning over to the items in question while his gaze was firmly placed on the wounded soldier in front of him. Jason was quick to obey, even as a kid. Even though the real horrors of the war were mostly hidden from him, his young eyes had witnessed many a gory detail after a scavenging party returned unsuccessful. He had grown to despise the word Advent; despite never truly meeting the bogey men in question before, he knew what this word meant for him. It was what made people not return sometimes. It was what stopped him from playing too loud around the camp. And it was what made him an orphan at the age of 12, when his parents were out on a daring raid of a small Advent convoy.

"Still with me, son?" Gerhart inquired, his head moving to meet the boy's gaze from under his glasses. "Drifting off? I do need that medipack. And a bottle of water from the storage. The poor man's not in a good way here. And-"

Before he could finish the sentence, the boy finished with a "and make it snappy, I know, I know."

But those were, in a way, simpler times. He helped Gerhart and was, for all intents and purposes, a simple errand boy. However, deep down, even he knew the doctor could not have saved all of those people alone. Sure, someone else could have helped him in the triage tents, but then that person would not be tending to the crops, or would not be on the lookout for danger, or would not be cooking food...

Over the years Jason was promoted from errand boy to helping with the medical procedures. The good doctor was entrusting him with more and more responsibility. A part of the boy knew it must have been because he was talented for this, even good at it. But the maturing young adult in him also knew it was because Gerhart was growing old. And in a world where the elderly were a much more endangered breed, lacking proper medical care and facilities, old age was something not to be expected often. Were it not for a chryssalid's bite or an Advent trooper's mag rifle rounds that ended one's life, it could have been something stupid and previously preventable, like a bad flu.

It was thanks to the doctor he had learned his unofficial trade. And when old Gerhart did pass away – peacefully in his sleep – a huge responsibility was suddenly placed on the then young man's shoulders. To work the triage tents on his own, treat the wounded, bring people back from the brink of death, as if he were a magician. How? He wasn't even a real doctor! And he had no Snappy of his own to fetch him things...

But like everyone in those times, Jason persisted and didn't do too badly at his surprise position in the camp. Over the years he had saved many, yet also lost just as many. His guilt was growing and he never felt adequate, always looking up to his former mentor. Oh, how easy things would have been if he were still alive...

He didn't really have the time to find out whether he could tip the scales of survival for his patience to their advantage, for the War of Liberation had started when he was 18. And if he had though his time as a lone would-be-medic was difficult, the second war proved him wrong.

So much death and destruction; and all of it up-close. Advent had begun to send retaliatory strikes to the wilderness, scouring the land with search and destroy hunter-killer groups. Their mission was simple – destroy any and all opposition. And that meant those that were willing to give up.

He could hear of the raids on the resistance radio; the triage tent was close to the command shack and the crackling electronic box was seldomly quiet. The voices on it ranged from those of desperation and calls for help to the ones promising victory and a better future. Little did Jason know this future would mean a victory over the alien invaders and him landing in the last shot at civilization and normality humanity and the others had on the planet – City 31.

A View To Kill For

10 years after the Liberation Wars, the year 2045 and the lone beacon of hope on Earth, the City, was difficult to imagine in the old days. Many thought they would not survive the Advent occupation, much less the resistance war itself, Jason included. But here he was, living in a cozy – if a little run-down – apartment in Angler's Point.

Considering the immense social changes and challenges of the new world, formal education was often not applicable or possible, so the requirements for job positions were somewhat different; sometimes even unorthodox. While 'Snappy' didn't have the strength of a muton or the psionic insight of sectoids, he was a somewhat experienced medic. And that, plus the fact that he could show in practice what his tutor had taught him, was enough to have him employed at a local health clinic.

With gene clinics banned across the city, and large hospitals reserved for personnel with more formal education – namely those that had learned in Advent facilities in the occupation era – people like Jason were forced to seek employment in the slightly less reputable establishments. That is to say you wouldn't see an important politician entering one of these clinics, but they still played an important rule in the community.

Angler's Point was a home to many; the poor, the marginalized and the hopeful. But that was describing pretty much the entire of City 31. With the fusion of human and alien societies, the face of the planet and, indeed, the city itself, was quite different than the tales of population centers before the invasion. And for many who had fought the aliens in the Liberation War, it was difficult to swallow accepting the very perpetrators as normal members of society – as equals.

After a day's work at the clinic, Jason's usual routine was to get something to eat from one of the street vendors, then proceed to walk home along the promenade. Of course, the name was much fancier than the reality. Still, the riverside street was a welcome timeout from the hustle and bustle of the more populous areas.

"The usual, J?" a somewhat unnatural voice of a sectoid sounded off from the food stall; a miserable little cart with squeaky wheels that served hot, steamed vegetables and a side of fried meat. An odd sight, for sure, but sectoids were in the same situation as everyone else – they had to survive somehow. And what the meat was... well, it was better not to ask. But with the abundance of rats making their home in every nook and cranny, it was not difficult to guess. Still, it was nutritious and even delicious, the spices doing their thing.

"Yeah, please," Jason responded with a nod and a smile, walking up to the cart and pulling out his credits. "Nothing interesting happen today, Mag," he continued. Considering the aliens were a part of the invasion force before and were, in essence, mind controlled as mere tools, none of them had names. And that was perhaps one of the most difficult things they had to acclimatize to when integrating into society. Suddenly they had names, personalities, emotions, aspirations... It was a lot to take in and even more so when some realized they were part of huge massacres under the command of Advent.

"But that's good, isn't it? In your profession 'interesting' means people dying," the sectoid observed, bringing a very good point forward. And he was right. If Jason's day was anything than boring, there was a very good chance they were losing lives. That is not to say he enjoyed those days as he had grown an aversion to losing anyone – human or otherwise – every since the days of the resistance, but he couldn't deny those days broke the monotony and guilt that enveloped his thoughts sometimes.

"It is, yeah," J responded, taking the hot pack of dinner and handing over the credits owed. This was his favorite meal; and often the only one he had to go on. Often he simply lacked the time to have a proper eating schedule.

" I hope you enjoy. And don't forget; I'm selling the special tomorrow. Chicken in tomato sauce."

That was indeed a bit of a rarity. Chicken! And tomatoes... The city was growing its own hydroponic food and lab-grown meat, but the rebuilding was far from done and shortages were common. Luckily, rats were abundant and some people basically lived off of leaving into the wilderness to pick mushrooms, berries and the like, to sell them on later.

"I definitely wouldn't want to miss that, Mag. Save some for me, would ya? And uh... Don't eat the eggs or you'll have to survive that and my treatment."

The sectoid gave its version of a smile and replied: "I'm sure I'd be fine, J. With the eggs, I mean."

Jason brushed him off with a wave of his hand and jokingly added a "cheeky bastard".

Walking along the river and feeling the light breeze was nice. The sounds of the water, the cars and people in the distance as well as those fishing for a meal was a calming experience for the human. This wasn't a back alley where you'd have to be careful not to come across a bunch of xenophobic mutons or the fringes where a stray, lone chryssalid could suddenly create havoc and induce panic. The promenade was the way to Jason's home which gave him a chance to reorder his thoughts, think about the next day and just generally order the world as he saw fit and right.

The steamed vegetables were delicious as ever; sometimes he thought the sectoid must have used some sort of subconscious psionic programming to make his customers believe the food was great, when in reality he might be selling tripe. Chuckling to himself, he pushed those silly thoughts away; psionic dampeners were worn by practically all psionically apt individuals. Not a popular decision but definitely one that made the city safer.

And then he saw her. Pausing mid-bite of a particularly crunchy piece of bell pepper in his food mix, his eyes were affixed on a viper he had just spotted chatting to one of the locals who were trying to catch a fish. He had seen very few of them before. Snake-like body but with some humanoid features, such as arms. Assuming it was due to some kind of Advent genetic experimentation, he never gave it too much thought. The fact that the area of Angler's Point where he lived and worked was mostly populated by humans added to the mystery of any less-common alien or hybrid on the street. The back of her head was lined with some kind of implants or armor, presumably put surgically into place by the alien masters years earlier. This plating seemed to run down the back of her neck and the rest was hidden by the clothing.

She was definitely new here; Jason had walked the promenade dozens of times before, both to and from work, but failed to ever see the viper there. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen one of those aliens in the area at all. It was perhaps strange to be so isolated, but he preferred to keep to his apartment and work most of the time, never really venturing out into the concrete jungle much. That and there was still a level of mistrust amongst the human population that were a part of the resistance before.

But that viper... He couldn't look away. She was fascinating. Definitely alien, definitely snake-like but with feminine features he could not help but notice. Her skin color was of a very pale pink; if he remembered correctly that meant she was a young adult. And when she finally turned around to slither away, he caught a glimpse of her face as well. The two eyes met his for a moment, giving him the time to admire her from the front as well. With the way her mouth was, it almost looked like she had a permanent scowl, while the hood gave her a majestic appearance.

It was at that moment when he heard a slightly confrontational "You've got a problem?" from the very viper he was staring at across the road. Not wishing to get involved in a spat, Jason decided to shake his head in reply and start walking away. Fortunately that was that and he was free to continue home. Getting into a fight with a viper was most likely not a good idea. In fact, getting into a fight with any of the aliens was bad; Advent had designed them to be lethal in one way or another and these snakes were no different. From what he had heard, they could spit out a dangerous venom that poisoned on contact, could crush a man to death and used their abnormally long tongues to catch and pull prey.

No, definitely not someone to trifle with, even if they were all technically on the same side now. With that, he continued home, finishing his dinner and mentally deciding to stay home the weekend. Or maybe go fishing. If he could catch fish, he could have them for lunch. Not a bad idea...

The next day was the weekend, thankfully. A bit of rest and relaxation would be welcome, not to mention a chance to catch lunch in the river and get a free meal. Of course, Jason couldn't forget about Mag's special offer; a treat to be sure.

Unfortunately the night was particularly restless for the quasi-medic, his mind preoccupied with the threat of growing unrest in City 31 as well as that viper on the riverfront. The latter, in particular, was confusing him; what was so darn interesting about her he couldn't get out of his head? What was making him cling to the image so badly? He rifled through his brain a bit, staring at the cruddy ceiling of his box apartment – after the war, City 31 had to accommodate a large amount of people, so the new government repurposed many old buildings, the concrete blocks that were previously forming a warehouse included. It wasn't the best place to be, but it was home for him. It provided shelter, only a little bit of leaking in the rainy seasons, and was in a relatively safe sector.

"Maybe I'm just weird," he muttered to himself, realizing he couldn't get the image of the viper out of his head because... well, he found her pretty. But why? She was an alien in a snake-like body, venomous and probably sported fangs that could kill him right there and then. Besides, she most definitely would not be interested in him.

Yes, it was definitely time to get up and go fishing. These thoughts of his were ridiculous. Society had changed, sure, and many people were now faced with the reality and possibility of inter-species relationships. But that didn't mean he stood a chance or would want to be in one. Right? Besides, living in what could account for a human slum, how would the neighbor's react if he were to bring a lady snake friend home?

Getting up, Jason washed his face and put on some clothes; the same ones he had been wearing for few days now. They needed a wash or perhaps just a replacement. There was a clothing store a couple of blocks down, selling all kinds of apparel, alien included. He decided to pay it a visit at the first opportunity. However, for now, he had more important things to think of. Like fishing!

Grabbing the line, hook and some pieces of an old bread he had bought just for this purpose, the human made it outside to be greeted by the morning Summer sun. It was nice having the freedom of going out like this, his mind revisiting the old memories of living in a resistance camp, fearing for his own life whenever Advent patrols were flying about.

As expected, quite a few people had the same idea he had; the bank was populous with humans of all ages as well as a few of sectoids peppered here and there. Jason found himself a free spot, putting down his lure, hook and line onto a flat rock.

It took him a while before he got a bite. Which was odd, considering the number of people throwing food into the river. One would have thought the fish were coming here in droves to find a meal, but he wasn't so lucky. He must had spent an hour before feeling a tug on the line. Those fancy fishing poles he had seen in a shop a while ago were a little bit expensive for his occasional hobby. Yes, it would have made his efforts a lot easier and probably more fruitful, but this was just a hobby for now. With the added potential bonus of catching a meal, of course.

Unfortunately the fish proved to be too much, the line slipping through his fingers faster and faster until the friction created a burning sensation and he had to let it all go.

"Ahhh, fuck," Jason muttered to himself, frustrated. Not only did he lose the fish but his tools as well. Perhaps that fishing pole was not such a bad idea after all. Although, with his luck, he would probably have seen that go into the water as well. And, were he struggling with it more, he himself would be in the drink.

Sighing, he resigned to the fact that he just was not a prime fisherman. Still, the thought of that chicken with tomato sauce enticed him to keep a good mood. He had to hand it to the sectoid; his cooking was very tasty. And he always wondered how; the alien must clearly have learnt his trade from a human, or at least a human cookbook.

Turning around to leave, Jason stopped in his tracks, spotting that very same viper lady he had seen the evening before. She was dressed in one of those casual clothes they designed for her species, resembling a black dress that flowed freely down her body. A tank top with pockets was the choice on top, colored gray. The alien was slithering along the street and he couldn't help but notice that he wasn't the only one she had garnered the attention from. Considering this was a mostly human enclave and that vipers, as a whole, were not overly common in the surrounding sectors, this was hardly surprising. But it didn't look like the lady cared too much about it, quickly giving those that stared too long a rather nasty look which promptly diffused the situation in her favor.

Until that gaze hit Jason, at which point the snake narrowed her eyes and changed her direction, approaching him directly. Realizing he had been caught twice now, the medic quickly put on his best innocent poker face and gazed at the flat rock beside him, the few crumbs of dry bread still remaining untouched.

"You're that guy from yesterday," a voice sounded off in front of him. It didn't sound quite human but not as alien as one would have imagined. She seemed to roll her Rs but that was it. The vipers were either taught or had learned how to speak the human language without incurring a heavy accent, lisp or anything of the sort. Surprising, given their different mouth structure and the tongue.

"Uhh, I am?" he replied, surprised that she was actually speaking to him.

"Don't play dumb. I saw you staring at me yesterday and I see you staring today. Is this gonna be a regular thing now, you and me?" she inquired in her confrontational voice.

Jason had almost misunderstood that last part for something else entirely. Something that had been playing in his mind. "Errr, sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Was just... uhhhh..."

"You were staring," she interrupted him matter-of-factly. "What, you never seen a viper before? Or are you thinking of mugging in broad daylight? If yes, I dare you," the snake added, the last sentence showing her venomous fangs quite clearly. Obviously a threat and not one the human wanted anything to do with.

"No, no. Nothing like that. I was just... just, uhh.."

"Just what? Spit it out already," she insisted impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. Oh, yes. There was very much a feminine chest under that. A surprise for those after the war that had never seen one of the snake aliens before, but this was apparently their true and unaltered form.

So, he caught no fish, lost his line, hook and lunch. And now he was about to appear like a total, blabbering fool. No, not today. Today was going to be a good day. It was then Jason decided to just go for it, whatever happens happens. There were enough people here on the river front to stop him getting murdered over something he said. Besides, why not try his luck and see if he really wanted this, if this could really work?

Looking up at the snake lady, he opened his mouth: "Was wondering if you wanted to get dinner together. Mag's going to be making a special – chicken in tomato sauce." Why, oh why, he thought, was that last part an important detail he had to blurt out? Even if that were a pickup line, it would be absolutely terrible.

The viper blinked a couple of times, clearly unprepared for the proposal and somewhat disarmed by the surprise. "You... You what?" she said after a short pause, her voice still not exuding friendliness.

"Yeah.. Uh... Y'know. Dinner. Hang out. Together, I mean..." Yes, that was definitely very smooth, his words coming out of his mouth like a broken staccato.

The snake smirked. "If it'll get you to stop staring at me every day, bring it on. And if I'm not happy how things are going, I can throw your body into the river. Deal?"

This time it was Jason that blinked in a surprised manner: "Uhh, y-yeah. I mean, not the body in the river part. That.. No, definitely not that part."

"You've got guts," she replied in a somewhat less confrontational tone. "Say the time and place, human."

"Oh, uhh.. Right here? At 17? No, wait... 17:30. That's when Mag will be around." Oh, what a stupid thing to say, Jason thought to himself. Made it sound like he was just out here for food, nothing else. But, before his thoughts could make circles around all the possible ways this date could go bad, the viper replied.

"Fine. I'll be here. And you better be as well."

A deep breath followed the exchange as the snake left. What was that? Did he just propose to go on a date with a viper? An alien? No, surely not. It was just an invitation to get a bite to eat together. And hopefully not a bite of him.

Time ran more slowly after that; it wasn't even noon and Jason was already nervous. His sudden, perhaps misplaced, bravado might not have costed him more than his pride but he was certainly walking into the unknown now. What was more, he was contemplating whether this was the right thing to do. Yes, the human civilization and society was changed dramatically with the invasion but even more so when the Liberation War ended. No longer homogenous, it now included aliens and hybrids of all sorts, forms and personalities.

But was consorting with a viper – an alien ex-oppressor – really something his conscience would allow him to do? Or would the community here be accepting of it? The answer to both of those questions was a quick yes, as cooperation and mutual respect was crucial to the survival of the inhabitants of this planet. The reality, though, was a bit more complex; grudges were left, extremists were present on both sides. Not him, though. He had grown to hate Advent and what they did to his people, his childhood. However, he understood the aliens were brought here as slaves themselves, bound to the will of the Elders through mass psionic domination and invasive procedures. They were perhaps as much a victim as humanity, although that opinion was not a popular one in some circles.

Whatever was to happen would happen. If humanity was to carve a new path to the future, it would have to accept its new realities. Might as well start here by trying to date an alien. At least that's what Jason was telling himself; it did make things sound a lot more dramatic and heroic than they actually were. Perhaps the final result of all this would be him ending up with a broken jaw, either by the viper herself or xenophobic residents of the sector. His neighbors of the apartment block were pretty nice people, though, just trying to make ends meet, same as himself. At the end of the day, it was just a date, although not one he could have imagined 10 years ago.

Looking over at his wrist chip, a device almost every resident of City 31 wore, which acted as a clock, scheduler, communicator and provided some other features as well, Jason anxiously counted the seconds go by, as if they would slow down and give him more time or, perhaps even better, speed up and get to it. But it never budged, staying true to its synchronized clock, almost mocking the human staring at it intently.

He decided to pass the hours by actually washing his clothes. The river was out of the question; too many people about. The next best thing was the sink. And even though the water often smelled of chemicals, the clothes wouldn't mind a bit of whatever was in the liquid. Doing that, the medic hung them all up to hopefully dry in time. The sun was, thankfully, quite warm this day and the skies were spotless. The only thing left to do now was to wait, so he turned on his living room screen and started flipping through the various channels.

"Shit," Jason suddenly whispered to no one in particular, perching up on the sofa that had seen a fair bit of use and doubled as his pull-out bed.

A gift! He had forgotten to buy and bring a gift! Would that not be what the viper would expect? And he didn't even know her name yet... Oh, this was going to be good! But then again, she was alien and not really used to society as much. Neither was he, though. And with his wet clothes now hanging outside on the balcony, the only solution was to put on a different set, break the bank and go looking for something she would enjoy. Perhaps a target on his neck to bite into. Or a rat. A live one.

Rubbing his forehead with both of his hands, the human had zero idea what could scintillate her emotions. Grabbing a shabbier-looking set of clothes and putting them on, he headed out, looking for gift shops. Truthfully, he wasn't broke, not even close, but keeping a close eye on his money was important as there were all kinds of unexpected expenses that could pop up at any given day. A leaking roof, broken windows, new clothes, whatever. It was smart to keep some funds in reserve.

He exited his apartment, the doors locking behind him automatically, and walked briskly through the unkempt corridor, reaching the stairs of the block and descending them to get down to the exit. It was quite the lovely day outside and people seemed to be enjoying spending their time by the river, just as usual. The relative abundance of fishermen here had indicated that catching them wasn't such a monumental task Jason always perceived it to be. Maybe he was just unlucky. Or he was really bad at it. Probably a combination of the two.

Making his way past a few blocks, he was approaching the shop lane – known so unofficially, but it was where most of the shopping was done for this community. Despite the last war being less than 10 years ago, business was booming. People needed a sense of normality again and they required things from food to clothing and electronic gadgets. The man's eyes were scanning around while he walked, trying to figure out what in the world a semi-humanoid snake bred for war would have liked. Yes, the war was over, but a lot of these aliens had never known anything but. It was indeed quite an impressive change of how they switched their demeanor when their psionic control was severed. Sure, it didn't just happen over night, but when you realize you are your own person and are aware of yourself, your needs and desires, you tend to stop thinking about killing. Hopefully, anyway. Jason didn't know that much about their psychology or whether they were adapting well at living in a normal-ish society again.

The gift had to be simple and something that wouldn't offend. A toy gun? Childish and inappropriate. A yearly subscription to the cars and hovercycles magazine? Doubtful she was interested. An old encyclopedia on earthen snakes? Yeah... Pushing it. There were also old-world knickknacks on sale here and there, most of dubious quality and authenticity. Besides, it was a question whether she would at all be intrigued by an old, broken MP3 player or a snow globe that's long been empty of its magic.

And it wasn't like he could simply pop into a shop and ask for advice, either. This sector was populated mostly by humans and the occasional sectoid. The odd alien here and there were not shop owners, much less a viper that could shed some much-needed light on their preferences. No, this one was going to be a big failure, it seemed.

He passed a stall selling fresh flowers. One would have thought something like that would hardly exist in the post-war era, at least in the beginning. But the demand for these hydroponic flowers was quite alive and well, presenting a gentle and beautiful piece of nature in an otherwise dark and uneasy world. Jason was wondering if that could be an easy way out; a flower. Just a simple flower. Would a viper even care for that? It was the only gesture of goodwill and niceness he knew, though, and that was going to be his gift.

Picking up a simple anemone, the human asked the stall owner – also a human – whether he knew if these were at all poisonous to aliens, to which the latter replied he seriously doubted it. Not much of a consolation, considering the seller probably wasn't extremely knowledgeable about alien physiology. However, Jason was almost completely certain they would have heard about it by now as the government had pretty strict laws and directives about what was and was not suitable for certain species.

No, this would do. Not perfect, because he was sailing blind here but it was the closest to what he would consider an expression of admiration. And whether that would translate well into viper language was anyone's guess. Maybe in the future they would start issuing cross-species relationship advice texts. And maybe they already have... Going back home and placing the flower in a cup with some water, he had everything he needed, apart from a good subject for conversation. But, given the vast differences between the two, he was sure there would be more than enough to go on. If nothing else, there was always the food to comment on. And the river bank.

As the hours passed, he tried to look as presentable as possible. Even shaved his beard, put on his now-washed and dried clothes – a t-shirt and some shorts because it was getting quite warm this time of the year – then sat down on the couch, staring at the flower. What a wild day it was and how much wilder it was going to get...

When the hour struck 17, he was up and ready to leave. He had no idea if the viper would consider him being late as rude but he could bet on it. Even though alien, they also had a limited number of hours each day. And if someone squandered them it would not please them.

Getting out of the apartment block was child's play. It was the walking a few blocks to Mag's food stand that was terrifying; he could just picture the viper smacking the flower from his hands, throwing the food down, then hissing at him to never stare at her again. Sure, worst-case scenario, but Jason was no stranger to failure or lack of self-confidence. If it could go wrong, it would. And in the worst possible way. Or perhaps his luck would change and this would go great. Either way, he was not going to be late to the date. It was a date in his mind, after all, even if the snake would brush it off.

Considering it was the weekend, there were more people outside on the streets; walking, relaxing, chatting, laughing. One could almost forget City-31 was the last hope of this planet, a place where humanity's oppressors would join up with them to carve a new, better future for themselves. For everyone. And sometimes, that was much easier said than done, especially when dealing with such a wide variety of species, some of which didn't even breathe oxygen.

This was good if the 'date' was going to go bad; more people around them would lessen the chances of harm coming to him, however small that chance was. And it was also bad, because some of the more extreme residents might not approve of them hanging out like that. With that in mind, who was even saying this was indeed going to be a date? Perhaps the viper will tell him to never stare again, get out of her sight and that will be it.

Shrugging to himself, Jason attempted to shutter out such possibilities and start getting ready so as to not behave like a fool around the lady. Ah, who was he kidding? Of course that was going to happen.

There was Mag's food cart. The sectoid was already busy getting everything ready; his clientele usually arrived in the evening, many of them returning from work, just like the medic. He could swear the wafting smell of chicken and tomatoes was already in his nostrils. And, as usual, the alien cook did not dissapoint; not with the smell, anyway.

The sectoid spotted his customer and motioned him over: "Ahh, J. Are you ready for that special? It's all fresh." He had already begun grabbing a to-go box and was about to start putting the food in when the human stopped him.

"Err, not just yet, Mag," he said, half-absent-mindedly, looking around in a slightly nervous fashion.

"Something wrong, J? You look... Nervous."

"Yeah, I am. Date night, see?"

The cook raised what passed for sectoid eyebrows: "A date? I didn't think I'd see the day. I am happy for you, Jason."

The medic threw a long glance at Mag and replied: "You are? I mean... Thanks. I'm not sure how it'll go, though." His eyes were quick to leave and start scanning the surrounding area again, almost like a lost child looking for his mother.

"I'm sure it will be splendid. Especially if you both order some of my chicken."

Jason chuckled: "Always the entrepreneur. As a matter of fact, I had the idea to meet here and get some of your food for us, yes. Thought it would be a good distraction from-" He paused, thinking he had spotted the viper, but it was someone else.

"A distraction? But J, are you sure you want a distraction on your first date? It is the first date, right? Should you not give her all of your attention?" the sectoid advised. Which was odd, considering he was an alien giving relationship advice. What did he know about it? Although with his psionic powers, perhaps that wasn't such a difficult thing to do before the dampeners. And, apparently, even with those in place, some of the psionics can still get through...

"Yeah, you're right. Was just a bad choice of words, I guess. It's just..." Jason shook his head and sighed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "She's a viper."

Mag didn't seem to miss a beat by this revelation. "And? Treat her nice, make her feel important, give her gifts and your attention. At least that's what is common practice, is it not? Maybe she will be a little different to how a human would approach things, but all of us former Advent slaves have strived to learn integration. Depends on when she was released from the detention camps, of course..."

Jason threw the sectoid a quick and surprised gaze: "What?"

"I said it depends on when she was released. Years ago? She had probably integrated better than if it was just a few months ago," the cook explained. There were still thousands of aliens in various detention camps around the world. Some of them were waiting in a long queue to receive surgery in order to remove the psionic control implants, while some that had already underwent the procedure might have needed longer to adjust to a life without constant hate and war.

"Oh, good," the medic muttered in an almost defeated tone of voice.

"Don't worry, J. You'll be fine."

The human didn't really hear the last part because his gaze caught the sight of the viper approaching him and the stall. "Oh, shit," he whispered and forced a smile over his nervous demeanor. He waved with his free hand, as if the snake hadn't yet spotted him. She 'smelled' the air with her forked tongue every now and then; at least he assumed they did so, probably analyzing the various smells and tastes just like terrestrial snakes. "Hey, you made it," the human said as she arrived at the stall, still presenting a smile to her.

"You thought I wouldn't?," the serpent inquired rhetorically. "We made a deal."

The sectoid behind the food stall interrupted them with an "ahem" and gave Jason a 'give-her-the-flower' look.

"Oh, yes! Here, brought this for you," Jason uttered quickly, extending his other arm and holding out the purple anemone. He picked that color because it most closely matched the viper's pale pink scales.

She seemed to stare at the flower for a little while, as if unsure what to do about it. Then she reached out with her right hand to take it. It was at that moment the human managed to get a much better look at her up close. Her hands resembled that of an earthling but with elongated fingers ending in what seemed to be almost claws. Even if they were just dark-colored nails, they looked ready to tear flesh apart. Her scales glistened in the evening sunlight but didn't appear to be slimy or leave a trail. He also noticed she had changed her clothes, now dressed in a red t-shirt that accentuated her figure as well as what one could call a black skirt, held up by a belt. He had to wonder where she stored her credits and other small items; there must have been a pocket or two somewhere.

And then there was the serpent's face. In its neutral expression, it did look like a constant frown, occasionally broken by the flicking of the tongue. And those eyes that appeared ever angry with the way the skull was formed around them. There were large fangs hidden in that mouth somewhere as well. But, at the end of the day, he found it all... very cute, even beautiful and he wasn't sure why. There was definitely a certain appeal in the chiselled lines of her scaled face, the large hood and even those cranial implants which seemed to complete the look. Basically, she looked like business.

"Thanks," the viper replied, her voice sounding calmer and a little less in-your-face for the first time. She tuck the stem of the flower behind her belt.

"Well, uh... Would you care for some food while we..." Jason paused, quickly trying to figure out whether he would invite her for a stroll along the river or not. Or a slither... "While we travel along the river bank?" He motioned over to the food cart, while the sectoid just gave them an excited smile, as best as an alien like him could, anyway.

"I have chicken in tomato sauce," the cook proclaimed proudly, opening up one of the heated containers from which steam escaped immediately.

"I know, I've smelled it a mile away," the viper mentioned. Moving her gaze from the cart to Jason, she added: "I'll try some."

"Oh, good! Err, Mag, two portions, please," the human said almost excitedly, although in reality he was just relieved this had not turned into a disaster yet. Bringing out his credits, he paid for both of the meals. "Thanks, Mag. I'll see you around."

"Take care now. And good luck," the sectoid replied, placing the human in a bit of a predicament.

"What was that all about?" the viper inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Jason had almost choked on the piece of chicken he was putting in his mouth. He hadn't tasted real meat for a little while now, usually opting for the cheaper lab-grown variety. Even though they had a similar taste and texture, this meal also sported some fancy fresh tomatoes in sauce form. And it was heavenly. Until he had to explain what the sectoid unintentionally divulged. Of course, it didn't feel right to keep this whole 'date' idea from the other party, but he really still wasn't sure whether this would go anywhere or not. After all, their initial interaction was not the most pleasant.

"Oh, that. Err, me and Mag... We go back. He's had a food stall here for quite a while and I often order food from him when I-"

He was interrupted by the viper slithering along the river bank next to him: "Not that. The good luck part."

If Jason had ever blushed, it was now. Although she must have detected his rising temperature if she could 'see' infrared anyway. If he was going to take this anywhere, he better be straight about it. "Because I told him this was a date."

"A date?" she repeated after him, bursting out into laughter momentarily. But the human didn't feel like laughing; embarrassment was more like it. Nodding to herself, the serpent added: "You do have guts. For all of your falling over your words and actions." Taking a large piece of cooked chicken by impaling it with two of her claws, she looked at it, then promptly put it in her mouth, swallowing it whole.

"You-" a befuddled Jason started the sentence, pointing a loose finger at her. It also gave him an opportunity to see the complicated structure of her mouth, even how the lower jaw could move far further apart from the upper one than that of a human. Rows of small, sharp fangs lined the edges, rounded out by the two large fangs on the top jaw, with the assumptions that there were probably two more on the lower jaw, just hidden.

"What? Not supposed to eat it whole? Trust me. I know how this goes. And I have to hand it to the sectoid. It is quite tasty. Not sure about the sauce but the meat is good."

"Oh... Well, in that case, I'm glad," he replied, relieved this whole thing didn't blow up in his face. In fact, it seemed to be going quite well.

Putting another piece of chicken straight down her throat, the viper inquired: "So, will you explain now the whole staring situation? You looked like a lost kid. Or someone who didn't know better."

So many difficult questions. It almost sounded like she knew exactly what to ask and where to prod. Like her acute senses encompassed more than just what they did. "Uh... You got me now. You want the truth, so... I find you fascinating. That's why I stared. Haven't seen many of your kind and none up close."

"Hmm, you one of those resistance folks?" the viper inquired, almost answering his reasons right away. It made sense, too. The folk living in the Advent cities would have seen aliens up close, although perhaps not too many vipers. Still, it was a question he had to answer carefully, for it could have been loaded.

"Well, sort of. I guess," he stammered. "I did grow up in a resistance camp but I never really fought. I was a medic. If you can call it that."

The serpent seemed to have relaxed a little by now. No longer was she treating him like a nuisance she did the day before. Yes, they were still pretty much strangers but at least he now knew he wasn't going to end up in the river. She nodded: "Uh-huh. Those must have been some interesting times. What with the chryssalids running amok."

Her words rang true and were quite terrifying. The threat of those monsters was very real for resistance camps. Even if the people were diligent in trying to keep everything hidden away from Advent and even if the troopers failed to spot them and their homes, another tactic of the invaders was to let loose groups of chryssalids into suspect sectors. Those things were fast, bloodthirsty, utterly terrifying and could not only replenish their troops on the field but also bolster their ranks with new spawns. Jason had heard of those things running around other resistance camps and finding some. The results were never pretty...

"They were. Good times but also lots of bad times. Never knew when one of you might pop out of the woodwork and take shots at us," he explained somewhat absent-mindedly, remembering his youth. Then he realized perhaps he shouldn't have said everything he did. Turning his head quickly towards the viper slithering next to him, he added: "I mean—no offense meant. I meant Advent."

"Uh-huh," came a reply from the snake, almost as if she was expecting what he would say in advance. "You mean what you said. And you're right. We were taking shots at you. We were Advent. But we were all slaves to the ethereals' will and their psionic control. All of the people I might have killed, that's on the elders, not me," she explained. It might have sounded like someone trying to find excuses for the horrible things they did in their life, but there was no contest here whatsoever. The aliens were born, hatched or cloned in captivity, immediately underwent surgical procedures and were under Advent control from the very start. They had no lives of their own but were mere tools of the invaders.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you were responsible," the human wiggled out of his statements.

And the viper was quick to agree: "I know how it goes. The survivors of the war see the ones who were murdering them just years ago now walking and living in their city. I don't expect the sentiments or bad blood to go away any time soon. But it will have to at some point. Or it will mean more war." Her voice did not imply a threat of any kind, perhaps more of a slight worry. And she was right. The aliens and hybrids were here to stay and the only way forward was in unison. The invasion might have been a giant, almost insurmountable challenge, but the unification and peaceful coexistence might pose an even greater one in the long run, threatened by extremists on both sides.

"I think we all had enough war for millennia," Jason said, digging into his chicken meal. "So, how do you like Mag's cooking? You wouldn't think a sectoid would be a master of terrestrial cooking, would you?"

"I would, actually. They are very good at absorbing knowledge and learning. At least that's how they strike me as. Who knows, maybe your Mag there had stolen some poor sod's cooking experience psionically," the viper replied, not giving the idea of an alien draining people's memories and experience much more thought. It almost seemed like she was accepting this world as-is. Perhaps she was just happy to have survived the war.

As they walked the promenade, heads were turning and some got up and left. The reactions weren't as bad as he had feared, but it was always worth being safe rather than sorry. Jason was on the lookout for anyone that might have been showing hostile intentions, although he was sure the viper next to him would have been far ahead of him in that respect.

"I doubt it," he finally replied, "I think Mag is just interested in Earth recipes. I don't think he ever—well, obviously he never cooked before the end of the war. So... Did you enjoy it?"

He was a little late with the question as the viper had already finished all of the chicken in her pack. "Yeah, it was pretty good," she replied simply, already looking for a trash can to throw the rest away. It seemed like a waste of the good tomato sauce but he had no idea if they would be consumed by someone like her. Apparently not.

"So... I never asked. How come you're in this sector?" Jason inquired inquisitively. It wasn't unheard of aliens living here but it certainly wasn't common.

The serpent seemed to almost take offense to that question: "And just what sector would you put me in? The Fringe?"

"What? No! I mean, no. I just meant it wasn't common to see.. er... well, non-humans around here," the human replied, trying to wiggle out of another awkward situation.

"They put me here, so here I am," she replied. There wasn't much more to it. He guessed it was the government that was allocating space around the city to the aliens in order to try and prevent the formation of more enclaves and slums. Exactly like this human sector here.

"I see. Hey, I never really got your name. I'm Jason." He assumed she would have a name, just like the other aliens. It might not have been a natural thing for them just after the release of psionic control, but he had seen sectoids, mutons and hybrids alike present themselves with a name. It must have been liberating for them to do so, to be an individual rather than simply a cog in the invasion machine.

The viper shot off a quick glance at the man with, as if contemplating whether her temporary companion deserved to know this or not. "Kelyassa," she finally said, almost trailing off at the end.

The medic certainly wasn't expecting a name like that; in his naivety, or perhaps inexperience with aliens, he was thinking it would be something difficult to pronounce or even guttural. But it did make sense; the freed invasion forces had little or no culture of their own, so the only one they could feed off was the one on Earth. And that probably went for names as well.

"Kelyassa. I like it," he replied, nodding to himself.

It almost appeared as if his response had taken off a burden from the viper's shoulders. Her head movement and the slightly lingering gaze alluded that she was happy he didn't judge her choice. And, for a moment, the human was almost certain he could see her facial features soften.

This 'date' was going great, he thought. He didn't get bit, poisoned, eaten nor thrown into the river yet. And he was learning more about an alien than ever before. Not just any alien, buy this – he had to admit it to himself now – really very pretty snake lady. Societal norms were shattered after the invasion, but prejudice was still there. Why would he have to hide if he liked the look of an alien? Deciding that it was time to do something about it, Jason gathered his courage; he would ask her out on a real date. Not just a random walk about with some food. He would get his credits together and ask her out for dinner in one of those new restaurants they opened downtown. Surely he could afford that much without breaking the bank.

Unfortunately, before he could put his plan into action, the viper next to him tapped on her wrist chip and seemed slightly annoyed. "Blast. This was supposed to be my night off," she grumbled, then gazed at the human with a slightly apologetic look. "I have to go."

Confused about this development, the medic wanted to say something in return but was interrupted by the viper: "Thanks for the food." With that, she quickly slithered away, gracefully dropping the food container she was still holding into one of the trash cans she passed.

What had just happened, Jason thought, asking himself whether it was something he had done. But her wrist chip did go off. There must have been something important she needed to attend to. It was just a shame it all ended so quickly and in such abrupt manner. He had more plans, to be bolder and to ask her out again. But... Too late now.

With a sigh, he watched her disappear down one of the streets, leaving him to walk back home alone.