Humans Are Weird: The Venshi War

Humans are weird: The Venshi War

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Extract from the personal journal Jevin Thrice

“When the Venshi government announced they were going to war with humanity I remember the celebrations that were held in the streets.

Banners were unfurled, cheers and adorations made from every street corner, massive military parades held with each soldier proudly displaying their family crest as they marched through the streets of every Venshi city in the empire; one could be forgiven for mistaking it to be a cultural holiday rather than a declaration of war.

I was part of the 95th infantry and we were proudly marching through the capital city of the entire empire, Vento. The day had been clear of cloud and both suns shun proudly in the sky as if to bear witness to our march of heroes. I had enlisted only a few cycles earlier and my uniform still felt like a tight glove around me. I originally thought it was because I was too fat but the older members of the 95th told me that they always made them too small and that’d it’d stretch in time.

As we marched through the curving streets I saw thousands of faces watching me, cheering me and thrusting praise upon me with every step. My face turned a shade purple from embracement when some of the females in the crowd promised to wed those of us that returned but thankfully we marched on passed them until reaching the government quarter.

Along the street a massive platform had been erected to overlook the parade and as we came closer I saw the king himself standing at attention with his family sitting behind him. As we passed the platform we each turned to him and saluted like clockwork.

When it was my turn to salute him I caught the briefest of glances at his face. He was much older than the holo portraits made him out to be; the hair around his beard a rustic red rather than the crimson I had seen since I was a child. Though it was for but a moment the most interesting quality I saw that day was the look of his face. Instead of proud patriotic zeal or a show of fatherly love, I remember his face was hardened and almost sad looking. He looked at us as if we were already in our coffins, and it frightened me.

Not long after passing the platform we arrived at the military mustering grounds and boarded our ships. They took us up to the waiting fleet in orbit and from the view ports I saw a truly marvelous sight. A hundred Veshi ships of all makes and sizes were arrayed before us with the king’s personal flagship, the Dominix Prime, at the head. It was a mammoth of a vessel easily three times the size of any other craft in the fleet and armed from bow to stern with weapon ports.

When I had been a child my father had told me that should you ever see the Dominix Prime hovering above your planet every day afterward would be a blessing. For only the king ever commanded the vessel, and should he ever be displeased with the planet below it held enough firepower to crack a planet in two.

We left orbit two days later as we made our way to human border, each world we stopped at in the Veshi Empire contributing ships, soldiers, or war material to the effort. By the time we arrived at the border our fleet had grown to some three hundred ships and over twenty million soldiers.

The first days of the war had been uneventful as our armada carved into human controlled space. Several colony systems were located and attacked as we carved into human territory but each time the fierce fight we had been expecting never came.

Each system was often devoid of any space faring craft and the few orbital stations that were found were miniscule and easily taken over. When ground forces landed on the inhabited planets they found what sparse population centers abandoned. In a month we had taken eight systems from the humans and claimed almost twenty worlds without losing a single ship.

Things began to change shortly after we passed the Houton Nebula and our first signs of organized resistance began manifesting themselves.

Arriving at a system the humans called “Caylen” we had our first naval engagement of the war. Thirteen human craft waited in the asteroid belt surrounding the system, powered down to avoid our initial scans. When the main body of the navy had entered the system they attacked. Striking the rear of our navy they target three troop transports and their escorts.

Navy captains had been informed of the ineffectiveness of human weapons against Venshi shields so they did not bother to scatter. The human ships lined up their attack runs on the transports, their small designs allowing them to easily dodge the return fire from our escorts. They flew their ships right at them and just as they were about to crash into the Venshi shields they broke off, flying right passed them without firing a single shot. As our escorts began to turn and line up new firing vectors the first of the transports exploded.

I was on the food deck when the transports were destroyed. The navy had been broadcasting the engagement fleet wide figuring it would boost morale to see how helpless the humans were against us; but when that ship exploded I swear you could have heard a thumper rodent squeak. The feeds went dead a hairs breath after that and sirens began ringing out across the ship. The navy boys that were there suddenly became more tense and alert while the rest of us shuffled back to our waiting areas. It wasn’t till after the war I learned that humans had developed a special material that could carve through shields but was highly unstable. If it had been attached to a rocket or fired from a rail gun the material would degrade and lose its capabilities. So their engineers designed a special lance like rod equipped with a plasma warhead that would be flung like a spear from ships using the kinetic energy it had built up to launch it rather than thrusters.

Some 800 thousand soldiers died between those three transports and five escort ships of what was to be the first of many raids; and as I was to find out first-hand the army did not fare any better.

When we reached the only inhabited planet in the system the 95th was chosen to be the ones to spearhead the invasion. I boarded out assault shuttle and took my seat as the engines ignited and the gravity harnesses engaged.

My seat was near the window and I watched the midnight black of space slowly fade away into an ocean like blue as we entered the atmosphere. I’d never set foot on another world before and despite going into what was an active warzone I couldn’t help but be somewhat excited. I looked out the window with that hopeless optimism right up until the first enemy rocket hit the assault shuttle besides ours.

The rocket streaked up from the surface like a shooting star and hit the cockpit in a blinding flash leaving nothing but falling debris. I would have watched more were it not for the sudden jerk of my own shuttle swerving to the left and then right. No doubt our pilot had been trying to avoid the same fate but these shuttles while armored were not built for evasive maneuvers.

I saw soldier beside me clutching their guns until their fingers turned a bright red while other new recruits like me began sobbing and crying out for their loved ones as the shuttle continued dodging the intensifying ground fire. The noise became so unbearable I closed my eyes as tight as they would go and waited for the moment the rocket would destroy our shuttle.

An eternity of noise passed before I felt the shuttle jerk violently and the gravity harnesses disengage.

“OUT OUT OUT!”

The voice over the loud speaker cut through the noise and I leapt from my seat. Moving on pure muscle memory rather than personal direction I piled out of the craft no sooner had the boarding ramp hit the ground with a loud thud.

We had landed in what appeared to be a city square of some sort, each side of the open space surrounded by several storied buildings. At the center of the square stood a tall statue of a human woman who appeared blindfolded and holding a strange set of scales in one hand and a book in the other.

As I exited off the ramp I took cover behind a nearby stone bench with several others and trained my weapon on the surrounding buildings. The engines of the shuttle roared back to life and I turned to see the craft rising back out of the square in such a hurry that the pilot had not even waited for the boarding ramp to fully close. A misstep that cost the pilot their life as just as they were about to crest the tallest building in the square a rocket was fired from a nearby window straight into the exposed interior.

The back of the shuttle exploded outwards like a fireball and the shuttle came crashing down to the square nearly crushing me in the process had I not leaped out of the way. The comrades I had been with at the bench were not so lucky and screamed as the burning remains landed on them.

As I stood to my feet gunfire erupted from every corner of the square. From every window now appeared a muzzle flash as we were systematically gunned down in the exposed square. I stood to my feet and rushed to cover behind the statue of the human woman and returned fire.

Chips of stone were blown off by the human weapons and the shards sliced my face to pieces as those around me were cut down. I had no idea if any of my shots were actually hitting the enemy but by then all I could do is fire and scream as I poured plasma round after plasma round into every window I saw a flash.

It was after my third clip I realized that there were only a handful of us left and we were being slaughtered one by one. I desperately sought a way to escape the square but every street leading out of the square would require me to make a mad dash across open ground.

Another stone shard cut my face deep and I felt my face going numb and drove me to further crouch behind the statue. Had it not happened I doubt I would have realized my only escape was through the burning remains of the shuttle craft.

Looking behind me I saw the ramp was still down and the back of the craft had been blown out by the rocket, turning it into a burning tunnel to freedom. I tapped the soldiers next to me and pointed at the craft but they merely shrugged me off and continued firing at the windows. It was only when I saw a massive mechanical vehicle slowly drive into the opposite end of the square that I knew it was no or never.

Dashing from the cover of the statue I sprinted across the square back towards the burning shuttle just as the mechanical vehicle fired from its massive turret. I was thrown forward several feet as the blast annihilated the base of the statue I had previously been covering in. Rising to my feet unsteadily I turned to see the blast had turned my comrades who had remained there into nothing but red mush. When I looked up and saw the turret slowly adjusting in my direction I turned back to the shuttle and sprinted into the flames.

The heat was unbearable and I could feel my skin beginning to peel off as I pushed my way through the wreckage. No sooner had I made it through the flaming remains and darted around the corner had the mechanical vehicle fired again and obliterated what was left of the shuttle craft.

I ran for more than five blocks before I dove into a side street to catch my breath. I slouched against a nearby wall and looked up at the sky as I gasped for air.

Dozens of landing shuttle like my own were descending from orbit and were being met with a blizzard of enemy fire. Rockets streaked across the sky and heavy anti air cannons roared to life like the drums of the ancients.

It was not I realized what it meant to go to war with humanity and the mountains of dead we would leave behind to achieve our victory.

“Haven’t you heard?”, the crew’s Historian purred, delighted on the news. “Humans pull off the skins from their bodies all the time!”

The Engineer trembled around her unusual form, all four of her arms grabbing the table with anxiety. “Pull off their skins?!”, she asked, horrified. “Like the taru when the two suns rise in red?!”

“Oh, didn’t you hear me?”, the other continued. “They do that all the time! When they wake up, when they go to work, when they come back from it. A new skin for every moment!”

The Engineer became smaller, old instincts of alert kicking in. “How can they regenerate their skin so fast?”

“I have no idea!”, the Historian told them, spinning around their chair and drinking a large glass of water. “Must be because of that harsh planet they came from. I heard the ground roars from time to time to wreck everything… It becomes angry. I think it tries to eat the creatures so the planet’s core can keep itself warm”.

“Awful”, the smaller one whispered. “But why do they keep pulling off their skins?!”

“Oh, I think it’s all for show. They don’t have a time for mating, you know? Must be because they are looking for someone to be their partner. Or maybe it’s all shows for strenghts, to prove one is better than the other. These humans didn’t take long to get out of their planets, like us. They are still more of an irrational animal than an intelligent creature…”

“Oh, shut up with these stupid legends”, the crew’s sole human shouted from behind. Both Historian and Engineer jumped from their seats, looking at the Psychiatrist. “And stop watching videos of artists pulling off their makeup! You’re scaring everyone off me, you foolish storyteller! Come here, right now, and I’ll show you what pulling a skin off is like-!”

—

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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.”

Humans are now called “star children”.

It is common knowledge that all lifeforms, regardless of origin or existence or if they still exist, come from long-gone stars. By all accounts, there is no single existence that is not a “star child”, even thought there are many beings that do not believe they will ever deserve the title of being born from a star.

However, as the years and decades since humanity first discovered that they were never alone came by, the friends from other planets - or, for a better words, aliens - came to stop merely calling them human.

That did not happen on the span of a decade or two. It took maybe a hundred years for the first little one to decide that “star child” would be a name better fit for the common human. Slowly but surely, the title stuck, but not everyone will be able to tell you why that happenned.

Maybe it was because of their crooked hands, able to do so much with so little. Maybe it was their fascination for documenting everything, or maybe it was because of the hundreds of star patterns they loved to wear and decorate their spaceships with. Some even believe it was because of the human soul, and how it would stick to the physical plane even after death because it couldn’t understand that it was dead and it was time to say goodbye.

No, no. It wasn’t because of that. You see, they are not called star children for bringing wonder to everything. They are not called that because of their endurance, or their wits, or their imprudence. They are not called star children because their nature is extraordinary or so fantastical that the word “human” cannot fit it all inside. Every single creature, regardless of their intelligence, should be called a “star child” if that was the case, because every single living being is fantastical by merely existing.

There are aliens just as smart, just as strong, just as enduring and just as weird as the little humans and their crooked hands and their millions of libraries and their star patterns.

But when they invented a way for stars to live longer by harvesting their energy, and when wars arrived and they volunteered to take every single one they could to safety, and when they decided to dedicate their entire lives to caring of others, and when they terraformed planets that were too far gone, and when they documented every single living creature they ever found and when they debated the best ways to classify and understand them, and when they shared their art and when they made inventions so anyone could experience said art, and when they despite everything choose to keep their hopes up…

Oh, dear. That was a moment in which some of the aliens decided that “star child” would be a proper title, for only someone who remembered their origins and how they connected to other forms of existence, without ever thinking that they are better than the rest, could ever have been so stubborn to help.

And, soon enough, the humans accepted the title. They decided to stop arguing, for it was the better course of action, and embraced it. Now, the star children are most well-known for caring for their distant siblings. Not for how, many centuries prior, they once killed their own planet.

But star children are quite old, compared to the rest. And, as the oldest sibling, they must make sure no one will ever do the same mistakes they once did.

———-

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Humans are weird: Medics

( 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) Mula didn’t feel the pain at first. He had felt a sharp pinch just above his right leg during the charge across the street but he had ignored it. He had made it about half way across the paved road dodging incoming fire when his entire leg lost all feeling and he tumbled to the ground hard.

Through blurry eyes he saw the rest of his squad continuing to the building opposite the street which had been their target. He saw several of them torn to shreds by plasma fire erupting from nearly every window and yet his squad continued their attack with grim determination.

Mula made to stand and rejoin his comrades in this glorious charge. He made to use his right hand to brace himself and rise once more only to collapse again to the hard ground. Angrily Mula looked at what had stopped him and it was then that it finally dawned on him that his entire right arm up to the third elbow was missing.

He looked at the stump of his arm dumb founded. He could see it was clearly gone, but it felt as if it was still there all the same. Like a dark joke he could even still feel his absent fingers opening and closing despite their remains being scattered several feet away.

More of his brothers were charging across the street around him. They were being cut down like wheat before the scythe and yet they still shouted their battle cries and stormed across their dead.

This was the moment heroes are made.

This was the moment legends were born.

Mula the One Hand, they would call him.

Throughout his entire life Mula had been taught that to die on the battlefield was the greatest honor. His soul would be welcomed into the hallowed halls of Jem Had’a where he would fight eternal with the greatest warriors his people had ever known.

Determined to meet his end with the dignity of a true warrior of the, Mula braced himself on his left arm and made to stand once more. He had nearly risen back to his full height when he felt something grab him from behind and pull him hard.

“Get down you stupid fucker!”

Before Mula knew what was going on he was being dragged backwards. He saw his unresponsive leg limply being dragged before him as he was taken further and further away from the target building. His brothers were still rushing passed him as he was being pulled away as Mula strained his neck turning to see what had grabbed him.

To his surprise it was a human warrior. They wore strange armor adorned with a red cross but carried no weapon. Despite their somewhat frail state they were dragging Mula back to their own lines as the battle raged around them.

While the war had originally been between Mula’s people and the Fentom Alliance it had eventually spilled out into neighboring sectors as the war progressed. Humanity occupied several sectors along the front and had been content to remain neutral in the conflict until Fentom ships began raiding human shipping lanes for supplies. After that humanity sent in several fleets and ground armies to assist Mula’s people bring the conflict to an end.

“Let go of me!” Mula shouted at the human. When they continued to pull Mula away from the battle he began struggling in their grasp. The human became further agitated by this and swatted Mula across the face.

“Hey idiot, if you have a death wish keep me the hell out of it!” they shouted as a rocket exploded nearby showering the pair of them in rubble. The human let go of Mula as a result and he was able to scramble back to his one working foot.

He rejoined the charge across the street, limping on his one good leg and holding his Tatava dagger in his left hand. He made it several steps before he was tackled back to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing!?”

Mula rolled on to his back and saw that it was the same human again.

“Leave me be!” Mula shouted as he tried to dislodge with several sharp kicks. “My destiny awaits me!”

When the kicking did not release them Mula had no other recourse but to swing his Tatava dagger at them. He had judged the distance to not harm them, but close enough to scare them into letting go.

Sure enough as soon as the blade neared the humans face they released him and shuffled backwards. Now free Mula made to stand but was interrupted by the human.

“I hate angry patients.”

Mula looked up just in time to see the human’s fist smashing into their face. The pain sent Mula crumbling back to the ground, his dagger clattering to the ground unceremoniously. The human stood over Mula and he thought that another blow was surely about to fall, but was surprised when instead they began treating his wounds.

“If I try moving you again you’ll bleed out before we make it back.” They said as they started wrapping the stump of what had been his right arm several minutes prior.

“You are keeping me….from my destiny!” Mula said. He had intended to shout it to scare off the human, but found that his voice had become very weak. Now that he had stopped moving he noticed everything about him had become weaker. His muscles struggled to move the way he wanted, his vision was going in and out of focus as he tried to look at the human, even his fingers had started trembling each time he tried to make a fist.

“If it was to die on this shitty dirt ball I have some bad news for you.” Mula saw a half smile flash across the human’s face before a burst of plasma fire flew overhead and she bent over his body to avoid it.

“You would…” Mula began as they returned to fixing his wounds, “dishonor me?”

The human shook their head in frustration as they finished with his arm and moved on to bandaging his leg. Mula noticed his armor had become far more stained with his blood than he had realized when he looked down at it. No doubt that was why he was feeling weaker by the moment.

“If you were truly meant to die this day,” the human said as they aggressively sealed the leg wounds, “do you really think your gods would let one little human stand in the way of a destiny they laid out for you?”

Mula wanted to respond but was struck by the human’s words. In his silence the human finished treating his wounds and waved over another pair of human soldiers.

“You will live to fight another day soldier.”

With those last words Mula felt himself being carried off again as the world started fading to black. The last sight he saw before it consumed him was that of the human who had treated him rushing off to tend to another fallen warrior. ————————–

The history books of Mula’s people would indeed speak of his name and deeds.

They recorded how after the battle he had been taken to an orbital hospital ship that had come with the human fleets. How he had been given new prosthetic limbs and had initially been shunned and mocked for surviving the battle by his fellow warriors.

It also tells how Mula endured all of the humiliation thrust upon him by remembering the last words the human who had saved his life had said to him.

“You will live to fight another day…..”

No longer was Mula seeking out his glorious death on the battlefield. He lived to fight another day, and then another, and another, and another, and so on.

Mula survived over three hundred battles fought over the span of sixty years. He was the one who drove his Tatava dagger into the heart of Overlord Jih inside his own citadel, he would be the first to breach the walls of the crystal city of Hama Zure, and he would be the one single handedly hold the line at the battle of Black Field.

In his life he earned more glory living then he ever could have won by dying in that nameless street so many years ago. His name was spoken of in reverence and his deeds carved into the eternal stone of honor for all to see.

Near the end of his life he wished to thank the human who had saved him all those years ago. So he set out and using what contacts he had acquired, sought out his savior.

His search led him to the fields of honored dead on the human homeworld.

The human who had saved him was called “Kayley Gillevet”, and she had died the very same day that they had met.

From what Mula was able to find out was that Kayley had continued saving those she could during the closing hours of the battle and became separated from the allied forces. She gathered those she could into a housing building and tried her best to stabilize them. The enemy forces thought that they were still active combatants and leveled the building rather than attempting to storm it.

Looking down at this tiny piece of stone with her name carved into it Mula couldn’t help but feel sadness.

Here had been a warrior who had stormed the fields of death not to take life, but to save it; and this was all that left to remember her while his name was taught to his people’s children in schools. Her name carved into a weathered stone barely legible anymore.

He placed his prosthetic hand on Kayley’s stone and spoke softly.

“I did what you asked.” He said as tears began to run down his face. “I lived to fight another day.”