Name: Ogafia Belova

She hated her job, and she hated her boss. She hated her job mainly because of how much she hated her boss. Greg Tate was the kind of creature who only felt good when other’s didn’t. Lions were usually proud creatures, but Greg was proud to the degree that made other lions ashamed to be lions by association. He was a dedicated member of the proud cubs, a nearly extinct club of land mammals who believed land their domain.

A group of travelers unknown to her had decided to grab a drink before leaving her planet on this day. They were stopped at the entrance by that despicable Greg because one of them, a giant octopus, was not of “pure” land blood. The peaceful-looking Octopus seemed prepared to leave when the hippo with him stepped in. An argument ensued, and she noticed Greg grab one of the Octopus’s many arms to throw him out. In a moment, the unwanted guests were as armed as the Octopus, and a moment later, so were the locals, many of themselves proud cubs.

She tried her best to ignore the situation’s escalating conflict but failed when the first shots were fired. She dived underneath a table, adding only seconds to her life, which ended soon with a stray shot through the cerebrum. All went black.

Then all went white. Slowly shapes appeared in the white. A ducks beak was above her, with eyes fully concentrated behind it. She was on some kind of ship, the walls around it missing pieces which, as she looked down, her new body seemed to contain. Her hatred for Greg, her hatred for her job, the memories of the family she’d taken that hated job to support, all seemed a distant past. She was alive, born new.

She struggled to get up, fell, and was caught by the owner of that beak and those eyes. She had already forgotten who she had been but knew this was now who she was. And the duck holding her? She leaned into those supportive metal arms and looked back into those focused eyes. She smiled and said,

"Mother?"