Humanity Fuck Yeah - Tumblr Posts
vetted
🛑Please don't skip🛑
Hello my supportive and humane friends 👋
It is not easy. We suffer from the lack of regular drinking water. We drink contaminated water, so diseases have spread.💔
All I need now is to donate and participate so that I can reach my goal, and I and my family can go out to safety before it is too late.🚨
$1 makes the difference in saving the lives of me and my family from this war 🍉⏳
@el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @stuckinapril @moayesh @sar-soor
vetted
🛑Please don't skip🛑
Hello my supportive and humane friends 👋
It is not easy. We suffer from the lack of regular drinking water. We drink contaminated water, so diseases have spread.💔
All I need now is to donate and participate so that I can reach my goal, and I and my family can go out to safety before it is too late.🚨
$1 makes the difference in saving the lives of me and my family from this war 🍉⏳
@el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @stuckinapril @moayesh @sar-soor
Why Humanity Cares.
Meetings with the human ambassador were always incredibly tense. The man's tongue dripped with honey, but his race was easily the mightiest and most violent sentient race in the Galaxy.
It had been just over five standard galactic cycles since the humans had officially joined the concordat, four cycles prior to that were just worry and negotiations. Teanorc had presided as protectorate of the concordat of stars for three galactic cycles. His predecessor had given him a dossier on humans specifically. Most of what was in it was public knowledge, and Teanorc had been a representative of the golithea at the time humanity had unceremoniously stumbled into concordat space.
They hailed from class-9 death world, the gravity of their home planet alone would kill most sentients, and on top of that extreme weather patterns, extreme temperatures, extreme flora and fauna, some of the flora actually ate some of the fauna. Their world was one right out of old science fiction stories.
As a result humans were likely the most hardy and durable species in the Galaxy, killing a human was an insane feat to pull off, this had actually lead to "human hunts." For awhile before they had joined the concordat, and despite best efforts of fully equipped, military trained professional hunters, only one hundred humans were successfully killed by them. The humans were furious at it though, an attack on one was an attack on all. Yet still they did not declare war.
The humans had approached the condordat with open arms, they always worked to put their best foot forward, and despite their colored past, which they made no attempt to hide, the always spoke of peace. They had been invaluable in defending gur'nak'kir'blim and scientific station there from an exploding star! They had even moved the planet to a new viable location, same type of star, same distance, nobody could do that! Their technology was far beyond the concordat they could easily overthrow it and enslave the Galaxy. But for some reason they didn't.
This was the mindset that Teanorc was in when the human representative arrived at his office for routine cycle dues and updates. He really hated dealing with him, he always felt on edge, like anytime the representative would just pull out a gun, say some quippy one liner and shoot him dead in the spot.
Deacon was his name. He opened the door and stopped cold.
"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" He asked, right, on top of everything else these people were also powerful empaths, they could literally feel when your emotions were off kilter.
Teanorc sighed, a long hissing sound for his race. "I'm just Stressed Mr. deacon, being Protectorate is a lot of work." Teanorc replied.
"Understandable." Deacon replied he took a step in and handed Teanorc an orange envelope with a myriad of human signatures and holoseals on it.
"That's it?" Teanorc asked as he took the envelope "nothing else?". Still half expecting the the smiling ambassador to slit his throat.
"You always ask that y'know." He said "working with me distresses you somehow, I'm sorry about that, I genuinely don't know why, if I did, I'd do everything I could to fix it."
Something about the Hunan's tone was off, it didn't sound like his normal practiced professional tone, that was still there a bit, but it had wavered. For some reason Teanorc felt that Deacon was being honest with him, though he wasn't sure why. He stared at the human for a long moment before deciding to speak again. Fuck it, if they planned to kill him anyway he supposed it wouldn't matter.
"It's not you specifically Mr. deacon. He said slowly "Humans in generally distress me."
Deacon turned and raised an eyebrow, a human gesture that usually meant confusion.
"I cannot believe you are unaware of why this is. Surely you must know."
"Did we do something recently?" Deacon asked "I'm pretty sure I was careful to honor all the customs I was taught."
Another hiss from Teanorc "fine, you want me to say it, I'll say it." He said "human military forces outnumber the forces of the whole concordat nearly one hundred to one. Human technology is light-years beyond anything we have ever developed, your species has a history of war crimes that make the worst villains of galactic history look like saints. You're nigh unkillable by conventional means, you are capable of reading emotions, and physically enhancing yourselves by getting angry or determined. You could the tear concordat apart in less than a cycle. Yet you speak in honeyed words, open your arms, act with kindness, you moved a whole planet, who does that! Your very existence is like a gun pointed at our heads, and I'm just waiting for it to go off."
Deacon blinked a blank stare on his face for a breif moment. It looked as though he hadn't actually expected Teanorc to put it in words. He chuckled a bit, though it didn't sound as though it was from Glee. Then deacon did something that Teanorc had never seen him do. He visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumped forward, his head tilted just a bit to the side and he grabbed the chair on his side of Teanorc's desk.
"Do you mind?" He asked. Teanorc waved his hand in a sort of dismissive approval.
"You see us as monsters." He said then turned and stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity.
"Am I wrong?" Teanorc asked, venom dripping from his voice.
"No." Deacon answered, there it was, loud and clear, the bolt would come any moment. "We have always been monsters, the chosen companions of death for nearly ten thousand years." Deacon continued, his head finally tilting down from the cieling to look at Teanorc. The man looked tired, exasperated, worried. None of the emotionsTeanorc had expected of this moment.
"But y'know living in a world filled with death has taught us how absolutely beautiful and precious life is.". Deacon's eyes blazed with a passion his tired features did not share. He meant what he was saying. "We weren't lying, we really do want peace. We want to help, we want protect, we want to encourage. We have lived in fear of death, we have lived without help, we do not wish these things on anyone."
Teanorc was surprised, this was not what he had expected, he was certain that the humans were just biding their time, playing with the concordat until they got bored. But this was not what Deacon's voice or impassioned eyes believed, which meant that… Teanorc had been wrong.
"But you have the power to do anything you want!" Teanorc replied, trying to make sense of it.
"And we don't want to conquer the concordat." Deacon answered. "We just want to live the brightest and most dazzling lives we can, before death comes for us too."
And the Heavens Wept
Gather round my children, and let me tell you of the humans. They came from the third planet of a tiny system, surrounded by desolate space. Not one sentient species for hundreds of lightyears, and they managed to propel themselves into space.
We watched from afar as they developed slowly. We watched as they warred among themselves, brutal and savage. We watched as they rendered regions of their planet uninhabitable to themselves, a hardy species able to adapt to even the most hostile of environments. We watched as suddenly and without warning they united under four banners, the rest falling by the wayside. We watched as they expanded into what we had begun to use as a buffer zone, to allow these humans to burn themselves out in.
But they did not burn themselves out. Despite their warring among themselves. Harsh people. Humankind is a race of warriors, do not be fooled by the eloquence of their diplomats. In their own words, “All diplomacy is a continuation of war by other means”. Their greatest artists and philosophers were born from blood and conflict. I had the privilege once to view a painting by one Pablo Picasso, entitled Guernica. It was a savage piece, with not a drop of color. It showed the horrors of war, and the irony of it all was that the painting hung in the office of one of humankind’s generals.
It was sudden, when they burst from the containment zone. When they realized they were not alone. And we, with heavy hearts, prepared to fight them bitterly and to the last. Imagine then, our surprise when humanity embraced us among the stars as long lost brothers. They were overjoyed to discover they were not alone in the darkness. Despite their brutal and warlike culture, despite their glorification of death and violence, their people do not seek out combat. An ancient general of theirs once put it thusly “Although a soldier by profession, I have never felt any sort of fondness for war, and I have never advocated it, except as a means of peace”.
For centuries humanity worked to better itself. They unified under a single Interstellar Empire, the Empire of Man, the Human Empire, however you called it. They enjoyed art and music. They became leisurely at home, exploratory in the field. Their weapons of war were long gone, beaten into plowshares as they say. Humanity was finally at peace. There was no conflict among them, a few border skirmishes for certain, and they kept a small standing military, but nothing more than that. We considered them domesticated.
At first we were surprised at their transformation, then overjoyed. We welcomed them into the fold of the cosmos, embraced them as they would embrace us. We thought we knew humanity then, that we had seen them at their best and their worst. We were wrong, so very wrong. We did not truly understand humanity until the Texar-Hakara came into the void between the stars.
Seemingly more brutal, more bloodthirsty than even the humans, they swept into our region of space like conquerors. They smashed whatever feeble resistance the Yungling managed to put up, took their planets, enslaved the survivors, and pressed on. The Junti were next, utterly destroyed. The four great races left, ourselves, the Itaxa, the Kukrama, and the Illnaa, banded together to try and stop them. In our arrogance, we did not include the humans in our pact. Too few in number, too weak in frame, too backwards in technology we thought.
The Texar-Hakara hit our borders like the great wave that sweeps life from the beach. We hardened our hearts and prepared for the worst. Seeming without pause they crushed our border defenses. They obliterated the first fleets we sent to them. The Itaxa fell to the Texar-Hakara, enslaved, killed, scattered to the corners of the galaxy. Then the humans sent us an offer, a request really. They asked to fight alongside us.
Bemused, we accepted. What else could we do? Deny them the right to fight with us for their very survival? We thought to assign them as rearguards, to ferry our people to safety after our fleets fell. We thought wrong.
Humanity swept into the stars with a fury unmatched by any other. Their fleets were not the heaviest. Their guns not the most accurate. Their soldiers however. Their sailors. Their warriors were unmatched by any others in the cosmos. I remember the first battle in which the humans fought the Texar-Hakara like it was but a single solar cycle ago. Our forces were on the brink of breaking and fleeing. Our ships were gutted ruins. Our fighters exhausted and out of missiles. Then humanity fell upon the flank of the enemy, and the full force of the Human Empire was unleashed in a single moment of utter fury. Landing craft spat across the distance in an instant, slamming into enemy hulls and disgorging humanity’s greatest weapon, their Marines. In close combat humanity is unstoppable, and so they took the vast distances of space combat out of the equation.
Their ships belched fire and plasma. Lasers crossed the vast distances in the blink of an eye. Half the Texar-Hakaran fleet was obliterated in minutes. The other half turned to face this new enemy, only to be wracked by internal explosions as the Marines did their work. Their greatest ships turned on the rest of the fleet, a handful of humans holding the bridge against waves of enemy attackers to turn the tide of battle.
The Interstellar War came to a screeching turnaround. The advance of the Texar-Hakara halted, like it had hit an immovable wall. In many ways that is what humanity is, an immovable, implacable wall. Then, with the ferocity humanity is alone capable of, they routed the Texar-Hakara. Not from that lone battle. They pushed them out of Itaxa space, liberating the slaves. The space of the Junti and the Yungling was swept clear of invaders. Then the Texar-Hakara committed the gravest of sins in humanity’s eyes. They warped a fleet to Earth, jewel of humanity’s empire. They burned that blue and green world. They destroyed it, and the ten billion people it housed.
Humanity is a forgiving race my children. Even their most terrible of wars have resulted in lasting friendships between nations. When they left millions dead and broken on the muddly fields of their world, they rebuilt the aggressors. They raised them from the mud, dusted them off, and welcomed them back into the fold. But there is one thing that humanity cannot, will not, tolerate. It is abhorrent to them my children. To strike at their home, to strike where they raise their young ones. Where they leave their mates and non combatants. To strike there is to raise the ire of the human race, truly.
Humanity raged. Their attempts at obtaining the surrender of the Texar-Hakara halted. The war turned from a righteous war of liberation to a furious and hateful war of retribution. We begged the humans to stop, to leave what few planets the Texar-Hakara had alone. Our pleas went unanswered for months, until a single human ambassador came to us. His face was cold and emotionless. He told us, in no uncertain terms, that the Texar-Hakara had doomed themselves and that any trying to aid them would suffer the same fate. Quietly we watched then, as humanity wiped the Texar-Hakara from the stars. The Texar-Hakara pleaded for mercy. They offered their unconditional surrender. They came to us and begged on bent knee for us to reign in the mad dogs we had unwittingly unleashed into the universe. Humanity had for so long repressed their warrior culture. Tried to become better. Then we had given them back into the fires of war, and humanity had awakened it’s warrior past.
The Texar-Hakara ambassador and his delegation was taken from our halls by grim human Marines and thrust out airlocks. Finally there was but one planet left, and we came to the humans, we pointed to our own losses, our own dead friends some of whom had lived for longer than humanity had been among the stars, and we begged the humans not to take the last of the Texar-Hakara’s lives.
I watched, children, I watched as the Texar-Hakara’s Empire burned. As humanity left but one of their planets alive, a simple backwater colony of no more than ten million. Ten million, out of the trillions. Then the leader of the human military turned to me, and with no emotion in his voice, told me that humanity accepted the unconditional surrender of the Texar-Hakara, and walked off the bridge of my ship.
My children, the lesson here is that a warrior past is never truly gone. Only buried, mayhaps even wiped from living memory. But gone? Never. Humanity showed us that.
And They Laughed
I still remember to this day, the most terrifying encounter I had ever had with the humans.
they came from a fairly habitable world - suitable for a large range of lifeforms prone to being reliant on liquid water. Many of those who preferred hydrocarbons for their reactions had to avoid the planet- the high temperatures were not conducive to their existance. My species, however, came from a very similar world - there were, naturally, differences in our natural atmospheres, and so our ships had to be pumped with a sort of neutral mixture that wasn’t really comfortable for either species, but worked well enough, sometimes with limited supplies of our actual native gasses in our actual living spaces for heightened comfort. some needed rebreathers for a day or two, but that was a minor issue.
Being so close to the humans, I came to know them fairly well. They had a wide range of emotions, as do we all, but their centralized nervous systems led them to strange quirks and behaviors- twitches, movements, their automatic and their voluntary systems being somewhat intermingled. Not like we Phylaxians - with our three Brain - structures, each with different purposes, and storing some extent of memory for redundancy.
I ended up becoming particularly good friends with one Human in particular - James.
He was hired on as part of our security detail. Being omnivores, they had become a cunning and aggressive species, and had hunted almost all of their natural predators- those few who remained on their planet remained purely for educational purposes, to understand and comprehend the past, and to understand how their ecosystem had developed. They had then replaced those predators in eating the local wildlife, flora and fauna. This led them to be surprising aggressive, and prone to being… abnormally competent, at warfare.
My species was no stranger to conflict, of course - intelligence has its downsides, and difference of opinion leading to savage conflict appears to be a constant for intelligent species. However, they had fought amongst themselves since their inception. Their species arose, and their species fought itself.
usually, This did not come up in my conversations with James. We had relatively similar bone structure, so he showed me a few things from some of the “Martial Arts” that he had learned ( Shudder) as if Military engagement and combat could be some kind of “Artform”. they even have a book written named “the Art of War.”
Honestly, if the species weren’t so friendly, I would be exceptionally alarmed.
James and his friends - his fellow humans - smiled often, baring their teeth in that alarming way, which I learned to appreciate and take comfort in, and to laugh, a strange barking sound, not like our trilling of amusement.
My terror did not come from learning their past.
It came when our ship was called up to the front.
The Ausvians had attacked our small alliance of four Sapient species, and the wide swath of space between our habitable worlds. It was panic. Madness. The Biru, small, furry, and overall devoid of natural defenses due to the millennia in which they had ruled their world, fell in nearly an instant. The Ausvians devoured their home system.
And so, we were there, at the front lines.
We wore combat suits, sophisticated armors of multiple materials meant to take impacts from energy and kinetic weaponry, and we loaded onto a boarding torpedo. James was there with two of his brothers - they had enlisted on the ship together, and they were speaking in their tongue, their strange steel knives - straight and razor edged, being sheathed as they pantomimed some kind of slicing motion of pattern, as they motioned breaking something. There was a grim determination in their eyes, and it took them a moment to realize that their inter-species translators were switched off.
“Alright,” James said bluntly. “We’re boarding alongside seventeen other crews targeting key systems. Our job is perhaps the hardest, as our task is to cripple the sections of the ship that will allow the different areas identified as living quarters from accessing their key systems. that should prevent the Ausvian warriors from reaching us. They are predatory, and tend to hunt in squadrons following basic Pack Tactics, surround and pursue. The more escape routs we can cut off, the more likely we can anticipate the direction of their attack.”
James’ brother sheathed an even longer weapon, before lifting one of the railgun-rifles the humans were fond of. I handled my plasma cannon gingerly. Did not want to overload it and loose a limb.
Fau’ud, you’ll take the other Phylaxians and will reenforce our rear- set up jamming systems and defenses. We’ll advance steadily, try to cripple their capitol ship and cut communications.”
I nodded, imitating the human gesture.
And we launched.
It was madness.
We tailed them, firing off shots, but it was indeed horrifying. the Ausvians were intimidating, fanged, with gnarled and bony limbs, but the humans…it was like watching machines. Helmeted masks grim, barking out simple, efficient orders. They mowed through their enemies, finding cover where there was none, ducking behind and under bodies, and somehow - they found endless uses for those knives. They had no natural weapons - not like us with our venomous spines in our tentacles, so they had made their own.
By all the forgotten gods, they knew how to use them.
Arteries, tendons, hearts, ligaments, they severed them with a mechanical precision, like a dance of death and bodily fluids once the hallway became too cramped for their weapons - precision based and not really made to be rapid fire- could no longer suffice.
It was horrifying enough, but then I heard the sound being transmitted through the speakers of James’ helmet. The battle had intensified, and multiple packs of the Ausven surged down a corridor towards James and his brothers, firing and roaring. As fanged monstrosities bore down upon him in an atmosphere stinking of sulfur, and the faintest trace of hydrogen sulfide, as energy blasts tore through the air.
A single, repeated, barking laugh. It quickly surged into a maliciously joyous roar of it’s own.
It started small - when he dodged an attack. When he landed a particularly vicious strike.
But then it spread. A roar, as he literally threw himself into the air, pulling the long blades from his back, and began tearing into the mass of alien bodies before him. A deep rumble, repeating and loud, broadcast relentlessly. His brothers soon started belowing in some strange bloodlust as well - the three of them not only holding - not only standing - but charging down the corridor now, blades drawn, roaring in the most brutal, most savage laughter I had ever heard.
Limbs were severed, bodies were run through, and they chopped and hacked into the section of the back where the Ausven had been found to have their main cranial mass and nervous system, hacking into it with bones that shattered bone and broke flesh.
The Ausvians began to flee, and the rifles rose again. Explicatives poured through the Vox channels as railgun round after round thudded into the reinforced backs of these creatures, clips being discarded and loaded into the weapons with that same horrifying efficiency that I had come to witness.
And still, they laughed, and charged down the tight passage, their iron tipped boots thudding relentlessly into the decking.
We followed, supporting our human warriors, taking down those who tried to rush us from behind as the humans had predicted. We were almost more scared of the humans than we were the feral Ausvens.
Suddenly, one whipped around the corner, and sank a taloned hand deep into James’ gut.
He grunted, and staggered back, before a backhand knocked his helmet loose.
I didn’t know how long James would be able to fight in this atmosphere - neither of our species were well adapted to sulfur in the air, and if it was the most likely option of being hydrogen sulfide, then this air would probably be at least mildly acidic, and would begin rapidly eating at his lungs.
James backed up, clutching the wound, getting some measure of distance between himself and his ambusher. His brothers were clearing two other hallways in the intersection where we found ourselves, and the other Phylaxians were busy protecting and supporting them with covering fire- I was the only witness to what came next.
James bared his teeth.
It looked like a smile.
It was not comforting.
He dropped the gun then, and pulled out the same long blade from a sheath at his side that I saw his brother sheath, before taking a strangely predatory stance.
And then he laughed.
He charged, blades - one long, the other short- whipping like a whirlwind of shining and savage steel. The repellants had to have closed his wound with the salvo-gel, or something, I thought, or else there would have been no way that the man could have continued fighting.
He laughed, blood spattering his lips as he carved a limb from the Ausvian, as he roared in sheer rage and perverse joy at the combat. He ran the Ausvian through, and pointed his weapon at the squad behind that one, declaring loudly “You’re next!” ignoring their savage disintegrator cannons. He pulled some kind of tactical axe from his belt and hurled it. I didn’t know that it had an explosive inside it until it thudded into the back of an Ausvian, and detonated inside the lift, killing the squad inside.
His brothers rushed past him. they had apparently cleared their passages. I could hear their savage laughter as well.
Another human grabbed James, his eyes visibly red from being exposed in the hostile atmosphere, the man collapsing from the injuries, his laughter subsiding as he clutched his gut, clutching at his weapons, pain apparently rising as he found himself able to feel. He groped on the ground, until he found his railgun and his long and savage blade, as he fell into unconsciousness.
We succeeded that day. the Humans fought. Savagely. The capitol ship was crippled, and strike crews on the other vessels reported mixed success rates. We managed to get James and one other wounded human off the ship. We had lost seven in our squad - three humans, four Phylaxians. I spoke with my superiors. They had not recorded the “laughing mania” that had possessed my squad mates.
I asked James what horror had possessed him, after he had recovered. If it was a disease.
He chuckled, and only said that his ancestors had been some breed called “Vikings” apparently his family had always been a little more prone to bloodlust and the furious rage.
And apparently, when they were in the face of death - when the fight was upon them - They laughed. They celebrated. They fought like demons possessed.
To this day, it haunts me.
They tore an entire species limb from limb, in a savage firefight, blood raining down upon them - their own blood dripping from their bodies as their lungs burned -
And They LAUGHED.
A DEATHWORLER'S WAR PT 1
Hunanity's truth universe
From the memiors ambassador Gruxalon of the vanai-ashti.
We were, at the time, the newest members of the Galactic Alliance, the 97th race to be admitted. Upon our admission myself and my fellow ambassadors were invited to the alliance's primary meeting ground, a massive spaceborne station in a system officially owned by no one, meant to be a nuetral ground. Here we were given an orientation of sorts that lasted several weeks, this was understandable as this orientation included detailed dossiers on each of the 96 species as well as the history of the Alliance itself and the responsibilities and laws we would be expected to uphold as a member of it. During our time there we were greeted by ambassadors and congulated on our appointment to the council. Most were cordial, but clearly unhappy with our new position.
This was expected, we had asked to join solely to seek military aid against the Xinali, a hostile race that had made it their mission to drive us to extinction because we were amphibians and they believed amphibians were an unnatural abomination. We were not close to that looming possibility yet, but it was clear that Xinali had superior numbers and firepower to our own, and our war, if left unaided, would eventually become nothing more than delaying the inevitable.
As to the reason we were inducted despite our less than diplomatic purpose, it was our communications and kinetic barrier technologies, they were far and above better than anything anyone in the alliance had, except the humans anyway, THEY had blown science fiction energy shields, but they had steadfastly refused to share that technology with the alliance. They were a bit distrusting and isolationist as I understood it. I remembered their dossier fairly clearly for two reasons, firstly because they were considered the strongest and most disciplined military power in the galaxy, secondly their homeworld had come up when discussing the concept of "deathworlds."
"Deathworld" was a designation granted to any habitable world that housed significant dangers to habitation by sentient species. About 12 of the now 97 member species hailed from deathworlds. Deathworlds had a classification system that went from category 1 to category 10, I don't remember exactly how they differentiated the categories, but i do remember that the larger the number, the worse the planet, I also remember that of the 38 known deathworlds in existence only one rated above a category 4, the human homeworld of Terra was a category 9. Sentient species that evolved to become dominant on such worlds are usually aggressive and militaristic, and they are ALWAYS predatory, humans added isolationist and closed off, to that list of quirks.
As a result it was considered normal that the humans did not always send delegates to alliance meetings, most of the time the topics to be discussed had little to do with them, at least from THEIR perspective. So it came as quite a surprise when I first met one.
We were pleaing again for the Galactic alliance to send military aid and were receiving the typical nonchalant disapproval, these proceedings continued for done tine before the human delegate stood and addressed his camera. Everyone fell silent, it was known that the human delegate was not often present, and when he was, he rarely addressed the council, I had, to that point, never heard him speak.
"What the hell is wrong with you people!?" He opened aggressively "What's even the point of a council if you're not going to act on the behalf of a member. It wouldn't even bd all that difficult or resource intensive to help them!"
I was taken aback I had certainly not expected support to come from the absentee and isolationist human delegation. In truth they had a reputation for not really wanting to get involved in the affairs of others, it had been the primary reason we made no attempt at diplomacy with them.
"Perhaps for you deathworlder, but for most of us a war is a very serious affair!" Another delagate answered.
"And you believe it is not one for us?" The Human diplomat replied. "Do you think it easy having such power at our fingertips? Do you think we wish to abandon diplomacy and turn a prestigious place like this to dust, simply because we can? We are NOT so petty.'
At this point the Consulate rose in the center platform of the space, placing himself between the two arguing races.
"Enough with this consternation." He said "I think we all know the true reason the humans are so adamant about this. This is about the Cithir incident, isn't it ambassador?"
The human hung his head low, he looked remorseful and defeated "yes Consulate, we have waited a long time for such an opportunity."
My spines rattled a bit at that statement, opportunity for what? His race would not be used for some dark deathworlder experiment.
"If that IS the case, then i suggest leaving the issue of military intervention in the hands of the humans, the ambassadors in question may hash out the details between themselves." This was met with raucous applause. "In the meantime!" The consulate continued silencing the crowd "we will discuss the sending of foodstuffs and supplies to the Vanai-Ashti, because if i can speak plainly ambassador Orillion had a point, we DO exist as a community to help one another, and if we are unwilling to do so in any capacity, then we will have failed as a community AND as a council, we are responsible to do at least this much, agreed!?"
Less enthusiastic applause this time, but nearly twenty ambassadors offered to sue for aid from their homeworlds.
I was nearly swallowing my own throat afterwards, I had never met any deathworlders much less the apparent worst of them. These were predators, powerful predators, I acquainted myself with their dossier as I waited for their ambassador's arrival at our diplomatic suite.
They averaged a meter taller than us, they possessed shielded, gun covered ships, their homeworld's gravity was five times our own, and they were, apparently, nigh unkillable monsters. Their bodies produced something called "adrenaline" under stress, it essentially reversed the function of going into shock, rather than killing them this caused them to become numb to pain and unable to feel fear, it gives a burst of energy and sharpens their senses. This substance is the reason the Galactic alliance is able to treat shock, i single litre of it can treat over a million people, and humans trade it for information, technology, passage through territory rights etc. It is SO potent that they can refuse to share their shield tech and still make more money than nearly any other member species.
A tapping at the door caused me to jump out of my seat, i put away the dossier and answered, as the human looked down at me i must've have done poor job of concealing my fear. Because he knelt down to my level and assured me he meant me no harm.
"Maxwell Orillion," he said, "nice to meet you."
"Gruxalon of the house fùrl," I answered "it is likewise nice to meet you."
"So what kind of creatures are these…" he tapped at a screen on his wrist "...Xinali?"
They are an Avian race." I answered keeping information short.
"Not to sound unhratefull, but you and Consulate Grak mentioned something called, 'the Cithir incident' and you said humanity has waited for this opportunity. What exactly do you plan to DO with us?"
"What do you mean DO to you?" Ambassador Orillion looked genuinely confused.
"Well I don't expect you intend to save our asses with no compensation." I replied a bit indignantly.
"What…?" Orillion stared at him in bewilderment for a moment begore something clicked behind his eyes "oooooooooh, you're new, you wouldn't know yet, I'm terribly sorry I'm just so used to everyone knowing." He said.
"Knowing what?" I asked.
"Uh… hmm… this is rather delicate, understand, it's kept out of dossiers for a reason."
"Okay…" i said.
"When we tried to colonize outside our home system for the first time, we ran into and insectoid race called the Cithir, to simplify matters a bit oyr people were split in how wanted to handle the Cithir, the larger group wanted to make contact and attempt peaceful negotiations, the smaller, but more powerful, and rich group wanted to kill them off so they could divy up the planet and sell the land to the highest bidder. That group succeeded, we eventually caught them and made them face judgment. But the fact that humanity genocided an entire race, doesn't sit well with us and we have been looking for an opportunity to atone."
I took this all in, it was a lot… it took me a few minutes, no wonder everyone was so afraid of them. I cleared my throat.
"So if i understand this… you committed genoside and by stopping the Xinali, you see that as like… undoing that?"
"No… what we did cannot be undone." Abassador Orrilluon said, "but we hope it can be forgiven."
A DEATHWORLDER’S WAR PT. 2
Humanity’s truth universe.
From the memiors ambassador Gruxalon of the vanai-ashti.
After discussing the particulars of human involvement in our war with the Xinali myself and two envoys joined the Human delegation to return to their homeworld of Terra and continue discussion with Human leadership. The other five members of the delegation were sent home to relay a message that would doubtless fill our people with hope and joy despite the misgivings and warnings from the Alliance: The strongest known military force in the galaxy was giving us direct military aid despite the objections of the council.
As I entered the repurposed destroyer vessel the humans used as a diplomatic vessel, I noticed it was staffed by individuals who all wore the same clean cut uniform with only minor differences to denote ranks and achievements. One of the similarly dressed individuals who was present with the human delegation stood straight and pulled feet together raising his hand to his mouth before bellowing:
“Officer on deck!”
As he did this all the men present stopped their duties and seemed to turn like one, as though controlled by a single central mind, the sound of their boots all hitting the ground at same moment as their arms snapped up, their hands barely touching their foreheads in what i assume was a salute, was deafening. The ambassador raised his arm slightly and bellowed back:
"As you were.” and the men visibly relaxed, released their salutes and returned to their work. Even among our own kind I have never seen such a display of discipline.
The flight to Terra took a few days, even in FTL, and the ambassador and I had a good deal of time to speak about the issues my people faced and how I, and my fellow envoys believed we could best be helped. Our largest issues were the Xinali willingness to use biological warfare and the fact they could survive a good number of shots from our projectile weapons before going down. The ambassador asked a few questions and then sighed resignedly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked
“Nothing is wrong,” Orillion answered. “It’s just… based on your descriptions I have to assume your enemy the Xinali also come from a deathworld, which means they’ll be a bigger pain in the arse to fight.”
"What makes you think they come from a deathworld?” I asked.
“Their biological warfare uses a gas that causes you immune system failure, yet doesn’t seem to affect them, despite no protective gear,” he answered “this combined with the fact they can handle several hits and keep going whilst unprotected means their blood is probably clotting, together that probably means they have an adaptive immune system.”
“An adaptive… I’m sorry I’m not sure I understand.” I answered, an immune was an immune system wasn’t it?
Orillion gave me a tense look “Okay, i’ll share this with you, but don’t go talking about it for now, the consulate gets pretty upset with how open we are about it.”
I bobbed my head up and down in consent and Orillion gave me an odd look before I realized that I had used a cultural gesture he wasn’t aware of.
“Sorry,” I said, “I will bear this information with utmost secrecy until you tell me otherwise.”
“Okay,” Orillion answered “although if i’m right and you ARE fighting deathworlders then this will all end up being considered ‘necessary tactical information’ anyway.” he continued “An adaptive immune system basically takes in a pathogen and throws everything it can at it, learning how to fight what is accosting it until it has figured out how to eliminate the pathogen efficiently enough to eradicate it from the body.”
“What!?” I asked “It just eradicates any pathogen? You mean to tell me that the xinalli are immune to sickness!?”
“Well no,” Orillion answered “Humans have an adaptive immune system as well, but there are still pathogens that can weaken or kill you faster than your immune system can figure out a solution, or sometimes your body can mutate and the mutated cells can end up draining your body of resources until it quite literally starves to death.”
I blanched “that sounds horrible.” I said.
"It is," Orillion answred "Only a few species have.adaptive immune systems, and all of them are deathworlders. Fortunately for you we are the most advanced ones."
From the memiors of general Vineset hetroix of the Vani-Ashri
My men continued to fight, but the Xinali were like like a flood, like a plague, it was only a matter of time. A lieutenant carrying communications equipment rushed to my command tent on the surface, he begged permission to enter and show me a transmission, i granted it.
The transmission was grainy, but showed the ambassador to the Galactic alliance and two beings quite a bit taller than him with rough, pale skin and tufts of fur on the tops of their head. The ambassador began:
"General i have excellent news, we have secured military aide at long last, our people may have hope now."
One of the aliens stepped forward, he wore a clean and pressed outfit, clearly designed yo impress delegations, not for war.
"I am major Darek Hallsman of the 987th division of the Terran Marines." The alien began with a gesture I assumed to be a salute "I am under the impression you are fighting the enemy as we record this message. I wish to inform you, reinforcements are on there way, and they will arrive soon, within the standard week. Hold the line, don't let those bastards take what isn't theirs." The recording ended here, the lieutenant informed me that the "Terrans" as the aliens had identified themselves had wished to hurry home to rally their troops, and had thus left theur transmission short and to the point.
"What do we know about these Terrans?" I asked my lieutenant.
"They are apparently quite isolationist, and do not generally get involved in the affairs of others, save for interstellar trade. I do not know what the ambassador promised them to change that attitude, but they are one of the largest military forces in the alliance, worst case: we get a ton of cannon fodder."
I sighed, there really was no point in expecting better than the worse case. His people had learned this the hard way during this war, the enemy outnumbered us, out gunned us, even out gene pooled us. But i couldn't say cannon fodder would have been unwelcome, so of course I called the men together to give them the news.
"Gather your courage!" I told them showing them the transmission "Steel yourselves, because in a few days you're gettin' backup!" A loud cheer rippled through the ranks bubbling and bursting "Let's not let our new allies down boys HOLD THE LINE!"
Came the answer: "SIR YES SIR!"
Nearly 5 full days passed, but we held the line, we fought with everything we had, we burned and buried our flak cannon shrapnel rounds into Xinali strikers and brawlers as we pushed with all our might against their battle lines. The Xinali must have sensed something was off, they began to pull back, as though preparing for something.
It was then we received another transmission broadcasting on an open channel
"This is Captain Nethaniel Braddock of the T.C.S. retribution clear that battleline general, you've troop and weapons drop in 2 minutes."
Troop drop? I had wondered at the term, but assumed ships would be landing yo let troops out on the battleline, at the time i could not imagine why the terrans would willingly risk troop transports by forcing them down on the front lines. But two minutes later my questions were answered.
A massive metal monstrosity covered stem to stern in guns and still bleeding fire from re-entry burst through the cloud layer. We looked up in awe at a vessel that made our warships look like children's toys. And then with a vast array of thuds metal containers hit the ground slamming into the dirt and sinking a few inches. Several of these pods burst open and soldiers in metal armor strode out into the battlefield with bellowing weapons that flattened the opposition. One of the men approached us and had us open the smaller containers explaining the weapons within and urging us to these rather than our own flak guns. They bore names we did not know: S&W, H&K, Kalishnikov. As these were explained to us the dropships came, carrying the regular marines, while the orbital drop troops held the line and protected their reinforcements. Terrans in nearly ten Secron tall metal battlesuits, firing weapons with rotating barrels pushed forward while others, near 7 secrons tall in plated and camouflaged body armor marched behind using the metal suits of the drop troopers as cover while they blasted away at Xinali soldiers and flyers.
The terran Concord's soldiers were the most efficient killing machines I had ever seen.
The Terran weapons were vastly superior to our own, some of their marines even carried weapons that fired viscous plamatized bolts. The "bullets" as the Terrans called them quickly overcame the Xinali's thick skin
Humans have the capability of perceiving when they're being stared at, even if they can't see it.
Dr. T'Chem was staring at Lieutenant /θkɡɾɑːˈŋæ/ (or as his current fling affectionately nicknamed her, "Tucker-Annie"), whose dorsal spikes were still rattling after the incident at the holodeck. It was his first time at the witness stand, and he didn't want to ruin a young star sailor's life.
Lieutenant Tucker-Annie was the combat specialist in charge of the training dojo of Federation Vessel TSN457, named after the Terra-Saturn-Ceres coalition where Dr. T'Chem currently served as the xenoanthropologist charged with facilitating human integration to the local Federation of Fraternal Planets and Satellites. The FFPS had the goal of finding planets with intelligent life to trade resources and technology, and due to their recent incorporation, local research vessels were fitted with diverse crews to acclimate everyone to each other's cultures and biological needs. Dr. T'Chem was the human expert in the ship, and was tasked with helping smooth over interpersonal relations among the crew.
The relations were, at that moment, as bumpy as Lt. Tucker-Annie's dorsal spike line.
An incident had occurred during a training exercise. The squad consisted of a Venusian, two Saturnians, three Ceresians, two monks from the Transcorporeal Temple of Robotic Ascension, and five Terrans (two humans, two dogs and a cybernetically enhanced cat). The exercise consisted of getting through a generic jungle scenario and, unbeknownst to the squad, avoiding a team of ninjas lead by Lt. Tucker-Annie trying to take them out one by one. It was supposed to test the way they would react to a surprise attack.
It was not supposed to reveal that humans could sense when they were being stalked.
Of course, any trained sailor would have an ingrained knowledge of potential threats and how to spot them. Look for the shadows that are too dark, listen for the spot air isn't blowing from, things like that. Basic things most people don't think about but that can be identified if you think about them.
This was not that.
"Something's watching us," said Crew Johnson, in that sloppy way only creatures with lips spoke.
"What do you mean? There's cameras everywhere, of course they're watching us," responded Crew Hessikh, slithering over the vines on a tree branch to cross a river. She grabbed the axe in Crew Johnson's belt with her telekinesis and took down a small tree to serve as a bridge.
"Crew Flufflepaws, could you please take a look?" Asked Crew Johnson, nervously looking around. Crew Flufflepaws got on the tree as well and scanned the terrain from above.
"I can't see anything, or smell anything. And my hearing isn't what it used to be. I'll stay on the lookout for—" a horrendous hiss interrupted the automatic translator's feed. Crew Flufflepaws' comm line cut off.
Hessikh and Johnson looked at each other. That was the strongest fighter of their team, gone. They knew it was a simulation, but it still gave them chills.
The rest of their crew mates were split into two different teams further along the path. Crew Fanning's voice came from the comm line.
"Johnson, Hessikh, are you okay? What happened to Flufflepaws?"
"We don't know, Johnson said something was watching us and it went to check, then we lost comms."
"I felt it too. I know this isn't that kind of exercise but I think— AAAHHH!"
Two blaster shots were heard, then a thud.
Lieutenant Tucker-Annie, who was watching Hessikh and Johnson from the mud pit behind the latter, had her tranquilizer dart ready. She got ready to shoot down Hessikh, but then heard a voice over the comm line.
"Code Lithium, we have a Code Lithium, we have to end the simulation, I just took down- I can't-" the breathing was sounding heavier and faster, too fast for a human.
"Fanning, calm down, remember your sutras. We need you focused, what happened?"
"I felt like I was being watched, so I turned around and saw this thing and it scared me and I jumped and I thought it was on stun mode and-"
"It's alright, we're calling it off. Captain, we have a Code Lithium! End the simulation now or- fuck, there it is again. Hessikh, do you see any heat sources?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary- why haven't they shot it down alre-"
The next thing Lieutenant Tucker-Annie remembered was the sound of a heel turn over the mud, followed by darkness.
Lt. Tucker-Annie woke up in the hospital bay, getting her tail regenerated by a robot nurse. She looked over and found her underling on the next bed, with a huge bandage on the side of his neck and a wing in a cast. Thankfully, he would be alright as soon as the stem cell bank was reprogrammed after her treatment.
The disciplinary board was called, an investigation was open, and both Crew Fanning and their captain were put on paid leave while the investigation was ongoing. Dr. T'Chem was called in as an expert after a review of the holodeck footage revealed there was no way Crew Fanning could have heard, seen or smelled the hidden sailor.
It was the first time in a while he hadn't helped himself to a glass of Venusian whiskey for breakfast. He really didn't want to mess this up.
"And would you care to explain how this is possible, Doctor?" Asked the prosecution, staring him down with an unnerving amount of eyes.
"I am as astounded as this court; our firm has been looking into Terran medical literature and we're still trying to figure out how it works; they don't even know, but they know it does happen, it's been documented for thousands of years. I have a hypothesis, but I don't know if it's even testable."
There was a murmur in the court. The judge asked him to elaborate.
"The way eyesight works is the light bounces off of opaque bodies and in its way it collides with the lenses in our corneas, which send it to the brain as electrical signals to be interpreted. The light that doesn't go into our eyes just bounces off our bodies and other opaque objects as well, the photons go everywhere and anywhere. This is the same for most species in this constellation, including humans. But even other Terran species don't have these abilities, as Crew Flufflepaws has testified."
A begrudging meow was heard from the audience.
"Order in the court, please. Dr. T'Chem, what do you suggest is the origin of this mysterious sense?"
The camera drones all hoovered around him. Dr. T'Chem straightened his fins and got close to the microphone.
"I believe it's possible that humans have a sense of touch so sensitive that they can feel the photons that don't bounce back. The ones that go into an eye instead of an opaque body. I think humans can actually feel in their skin when they are being watched."
There was an uproar in the crowd. His paramour, a dark skinned young human from the human settlement known as "Colombia", grabbed the religious symbol on her necklace and made a gesture with it he hadn't quite figured out yet.
The trial had to go on recess.
The implications were incalculable. Three dozen biologists from six different planets, including Terra, had emailed him before the end of the day to ask him to justify himself. Multiple human religious leaders took the chance to link it to demonic possession or moral evils. By the end of the week, four different labs were trying to figure out a way to double blind test shooting a photon cannon on a human's back and trying to get them to sense it.
But most importantly, the news made it outside of the Federation. The rumours about this new species that couldn't be stalked got so far, it ended up affecting the outcome of a border conflict with the Betelgeuse Libertarian Army on the Federation's favour.
Humans were terrifying.
If this is what they evolved to be, what was their planet like?
BUT imagine some Mexican cartels focused on capturing wildlife on planets around, let's say, Alpha Centauri.
JUST imagine the discussion about such a mission.
------------------------
Boss: Hey, you know, these creatures are kind of popular, what do you think about smuggling them? One would go for like half a million.
Advisor (or sb who is at least mildly respected in the organization's structures): Sounds like a good business. Where are they based?
Boss: You know Alpha Centauri?
Advisor: Like the star, Alpha Centauri?
Boss: Exactly that one. So, somewhere around that.
Advisor: what
Advisor: ...Are they willing to pay for the shipping cost?
Humans really like space wildlife
As Humanity integrates itself within the Galactic Coalition ever further, trade and travel between Sol and neighboring member systems is growing at exponential rates. In particular, their interest in the native wildlife of other planets is the most widely expanding sector for tourism and commerce.
Even though it is also the most heavily regulated and restricted one, Humans, who typically display a desire to subvert the normal procedures to expedite any process they can, for this they are surprisingly willing and eager to fill in all the necessary paperwork and spend hours upon days making sure they follow and adhere to all the requirements to import some of these creatures.
While such level of determination is not uncommon for new member species who discover a certain non-native creature or something that to the respective natives is commonplace but for them is the pinnacle of exotic, the variety of requests made by Humans is nearly as great as the entire list of known fauna species. And the reasons listed on the forms are even more diverse:
"That's a unicorn! I've always dreamed of having a unicorn and you're telling me there's a dozen subspecies?! Yes, please!!!"
"After reviewing their behavior, this bear-sized fluff-ball is the perfect cat I've always wanted, but couldn't because of allergies. I'll treat them with love and care, my life is incomplete without this fella."
"Tiny. Elephant-duck. Want."
"Our company was looking for a mascot, and these six-legged spindly beaver-crabs are perfect. Here's our mission statement and prepared accommodations for a flock."
"They all said I hallucinated the lizard sasquatch when I was on that acid trip, but now I'll show 'em. It's real. I knew it all along!"
"Aww, these baby puppies are so adorable (referring to the four meter, 800kg Fanged Widowmaker of Abyss Valley predator). My kids were looking through your alien picture books and instantly fell in love with these ones."
And so on. At first we had to reject quite a few, mainly because half of them were deadly beasts from Deathworlds that are almost impossible to capture in the first place. Then the Human officials informed us that, while they will try to stop it from happening, if we don't make importing and adopting even the most dangerous animals in the known Galaxy reasonably possible for them with Human help and expertise in the field, some Humans will set up illegal smuggling rings to "fill the market gap" as they said. Historically, they explained, that causes more problems and expenses than just handling it through official channels.
Reluctantly we were persuaded and have set up a new organization to quell this, apparently, unquenchable Human pack bonding condition. Even if said pet can kill them. We think, as horrible as it may be, that for some that is part of the appeal. Even the ones that breathe out literal poison.
"We'll wear a mask around them. This wendigo-like one is too cute to not get belly rubs."
Said the OFFICIAL Human Representative of a monstrosity that can only be described as the living incarnation of countless teeth, fangs, claws, vivid seizure inducing iridescent feathers, and a body that extends from a inconspicuous ambush pose to a fully 8 meter tall six limbed nightmare machine of Death!