The Humans That Sing

The Humans That Sing

This is a new thing I'm trying. Poetry was never my forte but I figured I'd give it a try. Enjoy.

The humans that sing are rare

Those that sing freely are there

But to be one that sings

with friends in a ring

Such happiness belongs with them.

Oh to be one that does

To sing freely - without pause

What greater a joy is there?

Now the humans have reached the stars

And mixed their music with ours

Now we can sing

With those in a ring

Such happiness and joy is ours.

Humans are weird: Retired soldiers and old wounds

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The door swung open and a pair of figures rushed inside as if the thunderous storm outside was hunting them specifically. As the door slammed shut behind the pair the few patrons of the establishment took notice of the commotion but soon went back to minding their own business.

As the warmth of the interior washed over Krot and his mate Nesana removed their rain covers. Krot stretched in place for a few moments and limbered himself up, the cold has always made him become painfully stiff when exposed to long in it. He looked to see Nesana doing the same before someone called over to them.

“Welcome tae the Grey Lily, friends.”

Krot turned to see the voice belonged to a human standing behind a wooden counter polishing a glass. Spotting a fabric cap atop their head, the human was shorter than Krot by a foot and their vibrant youthful voice appeared to clash with their seemingly older appearance.

Before Krot could make out any other details they waved over the pair of them to the seats opposite his counter.

“Weel don’t just stand thir in the door, c’mere and rest yer weary hearts.”

The pair looked at each other confused. Their culture had exposed them to humans from a very young age, but this was the first time coming across a human with such a strange speech pattern.

As Krot approached the counter he was able to take in more of the décor of the Grey Lily. Soft lanterns hung from the ceiling casting bright shades of yellow and orange across the room. Along the walls were booths at old wooden tables clad in worn red fabric. The walls themselves held an assortment of photos of humans and strange places along with a strange collection of what appeared to be trophies.

Only a few patrons were present and they were either nestled in one of the booths laughing amongst themselves or were standing around a strange table in the back clad with stone faces as they repeatedly knocked tiny spheres into holes.

Nesana sat down first while Krot stopped to examine a particular set of photos. The human behind the counter set down the glass he had been polishing and rested his arms on the counter.

“Bit late to see travelers,” the human smiled, “what brings ye roond here?”

“We were coming back from the fields just down the way when our hover car broke down.”

If the human was surprised with how fluent the alien before him could speak his face gave no indication of it.

“Doon the road you say?”  The human asked as they set out a pair of glasses and filled them with water. “No’ting doon thir save ghosts.”

“And how would you know?”

Nesana turned around to see Krot standing behind her. He stood easily six and a half feet tall and like Nesana his protruding snout and scaly skin made him appear like an iguana that had reached the final stages of its evolution.

The human looked Krot up and down before smiling and filling the now empty glass back up.

“Judging by the rings of your eyes laddie I can tell yer no more than eighteen, an’ I’ve been living on ‘is here rock for the past fifteen alone.” He nudged the glass back over to Krot and smirked. “It’d be wise for ye to respect yer elders.”

Krot snarled and was about to say something less than flattering to the old human when he felt Nesana’s hand on him. His mate always did know when to temper his anger and once more she did so again.

“Now, as much as I like giving free drinks,” the human chipped as they pulled up a stool and sat down at the counter, “ur ye interested in something stronger than tis damn rain piss?”

Krot and Nesana looked at each other for a moment, unsure how to respond to the question.

“Perchance do you have a communicator we could borrow to call a repair team?” Nesana asked.

“Sure I’ve got wan,” the human replied as they shoved a hand over their shoulder and pointed to the opposite corner of the pub, “but it’ll cost ye five credits to use.”

Nesana padded her pockets then looked at Krot who sighed loudly.

“Every time.” He mumbled under his breath as he pulled out his credit pouch. “I only have a ten chip.”

The human racked their knuckles across the counter. “Then it’s yer lucky day.” He said with a grin. “You can by a shot of our finest drinks for five credits and have change for yer call.”

Krot frowned. “But I do not wish to buy a drink.”

The human shrugged. “An I don’t want to die alone, but only one of these problems can be solved at the moment.”

Krot snarled at the man but Nesana squeezed him again and he relented. Tossing the ten credit chip, the human snatched it out of the air and in the blink of an eye flipped a five credit chip to Nesana. She rose to her feet and went over to the communicator while the human poured the drink for Krot.

“Name’s Leo by the way.” the human said as they reached behind the counter and pulled out an old glass bottle and began pouring the drink.

“I didn’t ask your name.” Krot replied, the patience already bleeding from

“An being the generous man I am, I forgive ye for it.”

Leo finished pouring the drink and slid it over to Krot. He eyed the drink for a moment before pushing it away. Leo’s smile wavered for a moment as he looked from the glass to Krot.

“It’s not wise to waste what ya have, lad.”

This made Krot chuckle as he pulled up a chair and finally sat down at the counter. “And did you learn this from one of your many moronic human life lessons?” he quipped.

“Nah,” Leo said as he leaned back against the bar, “from my time in the army.”

Krot was taken by surprise by this remark. He looked the human Leo up and down again more closely this time. “You were a warrior?” Krot asked, not able to see the old and rather plump human ever fitting into a uniform, let alone hold a weapon.

“41st Highland Dragoons.” Leo replied as he reached up to the wall behind him and pulled down a picture. “We rode steeds of steel an even though we got shot down plenty we made the four horsemen look like a bunch of pansies with the devastation we left behind.”

Leo put the photo gently in front of Krot to see. It was an old photo judging and Krot was almost sure it would have fallen apart years ago were it not for the frame that not protected it. The photo showed several humans clustered together in their youth standing in front of one of their mechanical combat flying machines whose blades spun so fast they defied gravity.

“Dat’s me thir.” he said pointing to the human wearing the oversized goggles. Krot looked at the picture, then back at Leo. “I served five years before I left an became a civilian again.”

“In my culture, if you are a warrior you stay a warrior until you die.” Krot said disapprovingly.

“Sometimes I wish I had.”

Krot saw Leo’s expression soften from his previous joyfulness to one of a deep sorrow.

“I did my fighting, and then I was done.” Leo began.  “I had my fill of seeing ma friends die in me arms, holding their guts in while they screamed for their mother’s a thousand light years away; an all the while I kept telling meself that once I’m out everything will be fine, that it’ll be just as it was before ye signed up.”

Leo pulled out a glass of his own and poured himself a drink, downing it in a single swallow before pouring another. “But it isn’t.”

“I went back home an it was like I was on another planet.” Leo said to Krot. “I saw ghosts of friends that didn’t make it back everywhere, an every night I lay awake jumping at every creak an groan think’n it’s some poor sod come to kill me.”

Krot couldn’t help but be intrigued by the human’s story. Warriors of his culture, even his own father who served on the front lines, never spoke their inner thoughts before. Even though Leo was alien to him, the notion of a warrior was something universally shared.

“Did you not have family who stayed behind?” Krot asked, reaching out and taking a sip of his drink for the first time. It was sweeter then he had expected and strangely calming.

Leo chuckled. “When I got home I was as alien to ma family as ye are to me right now.” He leaned over and topped off both of their glasses before continuing.  “They looked at me an saw me as a shadow of the man I once was, a husk going through the motions of life pretending that everything was right as rain.”

“I spent years trying to put my life back together, yet by the end I realized ma home wasn’t ma home anymore.” Leo stopped and waved his hand across the pub. “So I moved here to where I should’ve died.”

Krot’s eyes widened at this news, his fists clenching tightly.

“You fought in the Salvation War?”

Leo nodded. “We call it the Sontron Contact War, but I guess it doesn’t matter what we call it now.”

Krot slammed his fist down on the table making several of the other patrons look over at the commotion.

“Doesn’t matter?” Krot snarled. “My father fought in the Salvation War; he died fighting your kind!”

Krot stood up, knocking over his chair from the sudden movement.

“The only reason I am here in this filthy rain was to honor my father’s dying request and plant his war pike at the top of Catharie Ridge!”

Leo took the news in stride and was unphased by the sudden outburst. “So that explains it,” he said to himself while stroking his chin, “yer friend said you’d just come from the fields an that ridge overlooks them.”

Krot could no longer contain his rage and made to lunge at Leo. He had just stretched his arms across the counter to strangle the man when he was stopped by a double barreled slug thrower Leo had casually pulled out from under the counter.

“Ye think ye’re the first Sontron to come through here with an axe to grind?” Leo said calmly. The human’s eyes met Krot’s and for a moment Krot felt a chill run down his spine. There was no warmth in those eyes, no remnant of the joyful silly man from a few moments ago; just a cold stare that felt like it was cutting straight through Krot like a knife.

“Had ye come here ten years ago I very may well have gutted the you and your friend like fish and buried you out back,” Leo said, still training the weapon at Krot’s chest, “but that man isn’t around anymore so ye should count yer blessings.”

Before Krot could say anything else Nesana came back. Leo quickly moved the gun out of sight below the counter and gave her a smile as she approached the bar.

“I just got off the communicator and the repair team is ten minutes out.”

“That’s great lassie.” Leo said with a smile.

Krot simply stood up and made for the door. “We can wait for them at the car then.” He said.

Nesana looked confused as to why they were giving up a warm interior for a cold wet exterior but she went with Krot without protest. They had just made it to the door when Leo called out to them.

“At some point lad ye just need to let go lad,” he said with a saddened look, “otherwise ye’ll end up a statue in of a forgotten time like me.”

Krot looked at the human but said nothing. His only response was the sound of the door closing behind him.

Leo watched them leave in silence and went back to polishing his spent glasses.

Among the many stories of the Vul’nak war, few truly stand out to me. A war of senseless violence and endless bloodshed, that ended in nobody gaining much of anything.

An escort ship, the Lightning Bolt, happened to be out on patrol when the Vul’nak mothership was chased into their sector of space.

The mothership was the most terrifying ship in the entire fleet, with enough weapons to glass an entire continent in an hour. She was fast too, fast enough to avoid the fleet pursuing her.

The orders from high command went out to every ship in the sector: locate the mothership at any cost, slow her down until reinforcements arrive.

The captain of the Bolt knew that there was no time to waste, and aims his ship directly towards the last known system the Mothership was seen in.

12 hours. It took the crew of the Bolt 12 hours to succeed where an entire fleet had failed, they had found the mothership.

The crew of the Bolt faced an important decision. Keep their distance and risk losing their foe again, or risk their lives and pray that reinforcements arrive.

To the crew there was no choice, the Mothership must not be allowed to continue any further.

The captain send a single broadcast, then orders the crew to engage with all weapons. Only one ship was allowed to leave.

For over an hour, the Bolt held its own against the Mothership. Outgunned, outmanned, outclassed, but still alive. Striking their hull whenever possible while dodging deadly laser strikes, like an interstellar game of cat and mouse.

When the Fleet finally arrived, they were greeted with a transmission from the Bolt, the same transmission that had been playing on loop since they had first engaged the Mothership.

A message that would eventually strike fear into the hearts of enemies, and rally courage in allies. A single sentence that meant so much more than simple words could convey.

“I AM A HUMAN!”

Humans are Weird: Black Fleet Part IV

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) Humans are Weird: Black Fleet Part 4

Passage from the Book of Terra

“And as the gods looked down they spoke unto us

“We have given unto you, our favored sons and daughters, a world of your own.

She will give to you food so you and your sires grow strong shelter so you may endure the ravages of time, and wonders beyond your imagination that will fill you with purpose that you never knew so you may one day reach out into the night sky with your hands and pluck the very stars themselves.”

In the ages to come we ravaged our world in war, soaked its seas in toxic sludge, and choked the skies with fumes that snuffed the very air from our lungs. Yet the gods did not intervene to correct us as it was our world to do with as we pleased; and if it was our desire to turn our paradise into ash then who were they to stop us?

For all our stubbornness we did learn from our mistakes and in time we sought to undo the harm we had done. Generation by generation we rolled back the hands of time that had counted down to our extinction until finally our paradise was reborn once more and our sires rejoiced at the bounty they were born into. “ ——————————————————

Jum looked out the station window as the cargo freighter slowly passed by. Though it was but a fraction of the stations size it still was one of the largest ships Jum had seen in a while and he continued watching it as it approached the nearby jump gate.

Propping up his mop under his chin he watched the gate start to power up. Strands of pure energy began slowly reaching out and wrapping themselves around the cargo ship reminding Jum of a ancient sea beast pulling its prey to the murky depths.

As the final strand grasped the ship the vessel was pulled through the gate at unimaginable speeds and flung across the stars to the next jump gate that would catch it and safely deposit it back into real space.

With the excitement gone Jum picked up his mop and resumed his work cleaning up the observation wing of the station. It was one of the few wings of the massive station that always received a larger than usual amount of foot traffic. Wayward travelers and tourists would often come to the wing and watch ships coming and going to pass the time while a variety of peddler’s setup makeshift shops on carts and sell their wares to whoever was stupid enough to buy such cheap merchandise.

The offset of such a situation was that with so many people in one place it was also one of the dirtiest locations on the station; something Jum was altogether aware of as he finished cleaning up his third pile of vomit for the morning. Some travelers just couldn’t handle their cheap liquor Jum thought to himself.

Just as Jum had finished wiping up the mess and removing the last of the warning signs he looked up and noticed something strange. There were several dozen travelers, peddlers, and even stations staff all looking out the view window.  Jum assumed it must be because another massive ship was passing by, but when he turned around to see he froze in fear.

Warning sirens began blaring and the station keeper’s voice broadcasted from the loud speakers built into the walls.

“This station is now code black. All station personnel report to your stations. All travelers please report to the nearest shelter. I repeat, this station is now code black. All station-“

The staff were moving before the station keeper’s voice had even finished, their training leaving them in no doubt of what was about to happen next. The travelers on the other had were like animals caught in floodlights. They stood frozen looking out the giant windows like the statues decorating the palace of the emperor. Slowly one traveler here and there began reacting and started pushing their way through the crowd, breaking the fragile calm and replacing it with a mass panic as everyone began sprinting out of the observation wing.

Travelers were thrown to the floor and trampled to death in their frenzied attempts to find shelter. They began screaming and wailing, giving voice to their fear and drowning out the voice of the station keeper who continued issuing orders to the staff and travelers alike.

Jum stood transfixed at the window; the mop having fallen from his hands smacking against the floors he had just finished cleaning. His eyes were locked on what was outside the station, and it was only when the security shutters activated and sealed off the viewing windows behind three feet of solid metal was his trance broken and replaced with the impending dread that had taken hold of everyone else.

The Black Fleet had arrived. The humans…..had arrived. —————————————

“Our actions today will determine if our holy crusade will come to an end in the next few days, or the next few years.” Marshall tapped several keys into his armors console unit. A visual display of the station appeared on the visors of the rest of his boarding party so they could follow along with the mission objectives.

“We will storm this station, neutralize all heretics within, and secure it for our technicians to reverse engineer.”

“Is it not said in the book of Terra that “The hands of the faithful must never touch the constructs of the faithless, for its sins shall stain their hands with the mark of heresy”?”

Marshall didn’t need to look up to see which of his men had questioned him. He was all too aware that Filip was the most devoted of their ranks and was considered by the rest of his men to be a zealot. Were it not for his skill in combat Marshall would have never had such a fanatic for this mission, but he needed the best to ensure its success.

“It is also written,” Marshall countered “that there is no better death for a heretic than at the hands of their own sins.” He pointed to the looming station and the massive jump gate holding anchor some distance away from it.

“With the roads they have laid across the stars with the bones of their victims shall we continue our holy work and burn a path of retribution back to their lair to cast their empire into the darkness of the void just as they have done to our ancestors.”

This seemed to placate the zealous Filip who clasped his hands together to form a circle and bowed his head.

“In Terra’s name, we shall avenge the lost.” He spoke.

“Lost but not forgotten.” The rest of the squad replied.

With that dealt with Marshall resumed the plan explanation.

“Thirty seven boarding parties will hit the station from all sides and take control of key station functions.” He highlighted the target assigned to his squad. “Our target is what we believe to be the environmental control unit located here.”

“To destroy?” another of the team, Holland if he knew correctly, asked.

Marshall shook his head. “We are to hold it until the station is secure; we cannot risk damaging any systems that may render the station inoperable.”

He turned off the display and fixed each of his squad members with a stare to impart how serious this order was. “Destruction of the station machinery is to be kept to a minimum so mind your shots and if you are unsure go hand to hand.”

The squad nodded their acknowledgement as the thirty second warning lights lit up.

“Take heart,” Marshall said as his crash webbing tightened around his armor, “if we succeed today we will lay waste to their homeworld tomorrow.” ————————————–

Jum’s fists hammered on the shelter’s doors.

“Let me in you bastards!” he shouted as he smashed his fists bloody against the bulkhead.

The sounds of gunfire were getting closer now. Jum turned his head and he could see the muzzle flashes lighting up the corridor he had just come from.

“ARGH!”

Letting our an angry bellow he smashed his fist against the shelter bulkhead once more before sprinting down the corridor to the next shelter. His several lungs all burned from stress and his muscles cried out as if they were being ripped apart with every stride he took; but the fear of what spreading throughout the station gave him strength to keep running.

As he rounded a corner he ran head first into a squad of station security heading in the opposite direction. Jum fell back harshly to the floor while the soldier he hit adjusted his helmet and glared down at him.

“You fraking idiot!” The guard he ran into shouted as several more of the detachment brought up their guns to bear but lowered them once they saw Jum wasn’t their enemy.

“They’re behind me!” Jum spoke, his voice riddled with hysteria that was on the verge of breaking what was left of his mental state. “They’re coming!”

The security guard he hit peered round the corner then back at Jum.

“How many?” he asked him. Jum tried to rise to his feet and continue running but the soldier grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

“How many!?”

“Twenty,” Jum stammered, his eyes darting back the corridor he came from as the gunfire was getting louder, “at-at least twenty of them!”

Looking amongst themselves, the station security became uneasy; the one holding him letting Jum go and motioning to the rest.

“Pull back down the corridor to crossroads and set up an ambush.”

As the squad began pulling back the soldier he bumped looked at Jum. “I suggest you come with us if you don’t want to die.”

Jum debated his options until his train of thought was abruptly shattered by a loud explosion followed by several scores of screams as the human weapons fired bursts.

Picking himself up he sprinted after the retreating security detail thanking whatever gods had saved him from the massacre now unfolding. The humans must have breached the shelter bulkhead and were now slaughtering everyone who had taken refuge there.

Jum followed the security detail as they double timed through the twisting series of corridors. The voice of the station keeper had stopped transmitting several minutes ago and the only sound now heard through those once vibrant hallways was the violent sounds of gunfire and screams of the dying.

In his desperate sprinting to keep pace with the security detail he failed to notice the debris littering the floor and tripped over a fallen metal beam. Jum went face first into the metal decking, several painful cracking sounds ringing in his ears.

He hurried himself back to his feet but saw that the security forces were no longer in sight.

“Hey!” Jum shouted, but stopped himself from saying more as scything pain shot through his jaw from the action.

Not wasting time he continued running to the corridor junction the squad leader had mentioned until he arrived at the crossroads. It was a wide space that sat at the intersection of four major traffic corridors leading to engineering, docking, storage, and the environmental station.

Several scores of security personnel were present hurrying themselves by moving whatever they could to block off three of the four corridors. Only the corridor to the environmental control station was left open and Jum saw that a steady stream of other security details were pouring in. Whatever else was happening on the station it looked like that at least that area was still secured.

A guard walked up to Jum and slammed a gun into his chest.

“Man the barricade.” They said as they moved off and began handing out weapons to other travelers and non-combat staff that had made it this far.

“But I’m not trained for this.” Jum called out to the guard, fumbling with his weapon as he did so.

The guard turned to him and replied “They don’t care if you armed or not, to them you’re just a target.” They stepped back and looked Jum dead in the eye. “Are you going to be one that stands there and gets holes punched through ya, or one that has the nerve to shoot back?”

Jum looked down at his weapon, debating the answer, but was denied his response.

“Here they come!” one of the guards shouted.

Everyone who had been assembling the barricade grabbed their weapons and ducked behind it. One of the guards grabbed Jum and hauled him over into cover as the humans opened fired.

Their rounds tore through the barricade like it was made of paper and Jum watched guards next to him turn to pink mist as the rounds ripped them apart. The remaining guards returned fire with their plasma rifles, sending bolts of plasma hurtling down the exposed corridor into the advancing humans.

Jum hefted his weapon and began firing blindly over the lip of the barricade, too afraid to expose his head. He held down the trigger and felt the rifle recoil with each blast until it was empty. He pulled it back and looked at it, unsure how to add another clip into the weapon.

A stray round burst through the barricade, missing his head by a mere inch, and impacted the rifle. It shattered into a thousand pieces and sprayed Jum with a shower of singed metal. He cried out as the shards embedded themselves in his skin, each one burning him like the sting of a Jacata fire insect.

He sprawled to the floor, screaming in pain, clawing at his face to pull the metal fragments out.  The motion was to save his life as the entire barricade blew outward violently. Jum saw through pain filled eyes the human soldiers began advancing on the barricade in a steady line. Plasma bolts either bouncing off their armored suits or leaving tiny craters.

Seeing the futility of attempting to stop such monsters, Jum gathered his wits and made for the only safe spot left on the station. ————————————-

“I told you to limit yourself to short bursts!”

Marshall grabbed hold of Holland and slammed him into the wall, the force of the impact bulking the metal. “I gave you no permission to use explosive grenades!”

The rest of his squad was steadily advancing on the flimsy barricade at the end of the corridor as the remaining security forces began to route.

Holland’s helmet refused to meet Marshall’s stare. “Our objective is around the corner, it seemed the fastest way to reach it.”

“We are so close to our objective and you think using explosives is a good idea?!”

Holland did not give an answer. Marshall let go of his subordinate and pointed back down the corridor they had just come from.

“You will guard that corridor until I say otherwise.” Marshall said coldly.

“Yes sir.”

With that Holland doubled back and Marshall returned his attention to the rest of the battle. His squad had entered the intersection and was dispatching the remaining guards with ease.

Their weapons were powerful, but the armor he and his warriors wore had been manufactured to disperse the plasma energy on impact leaving it at half the power it would normally have. The security teams they had faced off against had not been able to fell a single one of his warriors. Gravely injure some, but not enough to leave their lives in danger and so they had been left behind while the rest continued the advance.

“Intersection secured.” One of his team called out.

Marshall casually pushed aside a large cargo container that had blocked his path and joined the rest of his squad. The area was littered with burning debris, shattered metal bits here and there, and a impressive amount of dead or dying bodies. Marshall saw some of the guards still twitching and casually brought his heavy boot down upon their skulls, cracking them like walnuts beneath his weight.

“Several of the guards fled down there” Filip said as he approached Marshall. “I believe that is the environmental control units we are after.”

Marshall took in Filip’s words as he approached another dying alien. This one had one of its legs shot off at the knee and was trying to crawl away as Marshall came closer.

“Stow your weapons.” Marshall said calmly as he bent down and pulled up with his hand grasping its neck. “Kill everyone inside with your knives or your hands.”

Marshall watched the alien struggle in his grasp, feebly clawing at his armored hand to get free. He watched it struggle vainly for a few more moments, enjoying the sight, before twisting his thumb slightly and crushing the vile alien’s windpipe. He let it fall from his hand back down to the ground and left it there gasping and turned to face Filip.

“I want this understood.” Marshall said softly, fixing Filip with a similar stare he had given Holland. “If I hear a single explosion or round being fired by our guns in there, and find the machines have been damaged; I will rip your body apart and use the broken pieces to mend it.”

Filip nodded his understanding. “The gates to hell shall be cast asunder, and the armies of the righteous shall pour in to vanquish the evils that lay.”

With that the squad hurried down the final corridor into the environmental chamber while Marshall stayed behind to finish off the remaining survivors. As he executed the stragglers one by one he began receiving a continuous stream of updates from the other boarding parties.

The power plant had been secured, so had the control room, docking bays, and the storage area. Resistance was still being encountered in the habitation blocks, and there were still several more shelter units that needed to be cracked open to exterminate those inside.

None of these were as important as the one objective he needed to hear to know this had all been worth it. Marshall began to feel a growing dread in his heart at the possibility that this had all been for naught when finally he got confirmation.

“Gate control has been secured; I repeat, gate control has been secured.”

With this last confirmation Marshall let out a sigh of relief.

“Next stop, the Etheral homeworld.”  

——————————————— Passage from the Book of Terra: “The favored of the gods did not come without its complications. Those around us coveted our paradise, our status, and the love of the gods.

They looked upon our world, our birthright, with blackhearts and evil eyes until one day they emerged from the void and struck us down.

With fire from the night’s skies they burned our homes, turned our families and friends to ash, and sundered our temples until nothing remained but ruin.

And so we took to the skies, sailing past their fleets of burning fire, and threw ourselves into the void.

We fled our world, our home, our refuge; but we swore that one day we would return.

One day we would bring fire and wrath unlike the galaxy had ever seen upon those that had wronged us.

One day we would shatter our enemy’s armies and scatter their vile fleets.

One day we would set foot upon our holy world once more, safe in the knowledge that the great injustice had finally been undone.

Praise be to Terra, and for the lost who will not be forgotten.”

The human is smaller than average for a human.

They must be weak.

The human is socially quiet and withdrawn.

They must be weak.

So why do I feel so afraid when the human looks at me like that?

Every once in a while humanity is really fuckin cute. I saw a post earlier about how a city was having problems with drunk people leaving clubs and being too rowdy, so they posted a police officer with a horse, not to add police presence but because all the drunk people immediately saw the horse and urged each other to be quiet and not scare it and they went up to calmly pet it. And y’all. It’s so adorable that a large portion of people, especially inebriated people, will immediately just go “aminal” and it makes their whole night. It’s nice to see a glimmer of goodness and innocence in this wretched and scary world we live in