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[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | "Yes?" the professor asked.
"What about *them*?"
The professor looked at me, puzzled. "You seem to be gesturing to the rest of the class."
"I mean, I am. Gesturing to the rest of the class. They look just like me. If we had sex -- I mean, if they hadn't been given the treatment -- we could have children."
A brief moment of horror crossed the professor's face. Or maybe it was disgust. It finally settled back into his 'teachable moment' face. "These are not human."
"If they aren't human, what are they?" The rest of the class shifted, clearly uncomfortable with my line of questioning.
"They are the Lesser, of course!"
My anger started to thrum in my veins. I took a deep breath to recenter myself. "What makes them Lesser? They're just as human as I am."
The professor removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As he put them back on, he asked, "What makes you so certain of that? Have you talked with any of them?"
"Well, n-no," I stammered. "I mean, not really. Not at any length."
The professor's face had shifted to one of alarm. "But you have," he hissed. "You talked to *them*. You've found out who they are, what they secretly want." His glare bored into me. "You think they're not Lesser." I watched, silently, as he reached under his desk.
When the two goons from the Republican Peace Enforcers came, I fought as they dragged me away. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | "Yes?" the professor asked.
"What about *them*?"
The professor looked at me, puzzled. "You seem to be gesturing to the rest of the class."
"I mean, I am. Gesturing to the rest of the class. They look just like me. If we had sex -- I mean, if they hadn't been given the treatment -- we could have children."
A brief moment of horror crossed the professor's face. Or maybe it was disgust. It finally settled back into his 'teachable moment' face. "These are not human."
"If they aren't human, what are they?" The rest of the class shifted, clearly uncomfortable with my line of questioning.
"They are the Lesser, of course!"
My anger started to thrum in my veins. I took a deep breath to recenter myself. "What makes them Lesser? They're just as human as I am."
The professor removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As he put them back on, he asked, "What makes you so certain of that? Have you talked with any of them?"
"Well, n-no," I stammered. "I mean, not really. Not at any length."
The professor's face had shifted to one of alarm. "But you have," he hissed. "You talked to *them*. You've found out who they are, what they secretly want." His glare bored into me. "You think they're not Lesser." I watched, silently, as he reached under his desk.
When the two goons from the Republican Peace Enforcers came, I fought as they dragged me away. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | I sat in the back of the room, so the prof barely noticed my hand raised in the air.
"Yes, Rai?"
"Sir," I spoke, "I must disagree with your point here."
"Why so? You, as a human, should be all-too familiar with their docile nature, should you not?"
"The thing is professor - we are not a docile species" The rest of the class chuckled quietly at this.
The professor was mildly entertained, just like the rest of them. "What makes you say that, then? Have you not been listening to my point?" He raised one of his long, tentacle like appendages from the ground to the paragraph on the board about Humanity. It, simplified, read: There is no record of humans ever committing any major acts against other species or their own species from the history records of Earth year 53412 (Galactic year 7.94 Million (approximate estimate)) and onward. Any other traces before then have been lost to the ages. Due to this they are classified as a "relatively safe" species.
"**MY point** is that they don't take into account what is in the historical records before then. I myself have done some digging during this lecture, and found records predating those stated in this paragraph."
"Oh? would you so care as to share your findings with us?"
"Gladly. Firstly, the three Great Wars. They are referred to as the "World Wars" and out of all other conflicts they are considered the most catastrophic. The first, caused by an assassination out of political disagreement, which led to a confusing jumbled mess of alliances in the "old world", caused around 40 million deaths. The second, caused by a survivor of the first, caused over 70 million deaths. The third, a few centuries later, was started by political extremists, and much like the first, they caused an assassination. this was upon the 75th or so president of the USA. It led to more deaths than the earlier two combined, with a total estimate of about 190 million."
By this point, my classmates have huddled in the opposite side of the room, fearful of the truth.
"Then we get to the natural conflicts, those against our own planet. All throughout history we have been releasing copious amounts of a poisonous gas, leading to our planet super-heating at levels not seen before. We then banded together against this and saved our planet from extinction, then endangered it again, and so on. Twas around then we engineered the means for travel to reach beyond than our solar system, using it to get to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and in some cases even further. Going back in time, to the beginning of Earth's traditional calendar, at Year 0, it states that we nailed one of our perceived Gods to a cross that we forced him to carry to his own grave, wearing a crown made of thorns. While all of these were happening, there were numerous wars that are contained within countries, called Civil Wars. Notable examples include Morocco, Korea, Russia all of which have had at least one ending in at least several million deaths."
"Rai, I m-must say, all of this is q-quite overwh-"
"I'm not done, professor! There's more! Oh yes!" I talked over him. "When we found extraterrestrial life we became merciless with this so-called "magic" that we used, called Nuclear Energy. It fueled our bombs and powered our warships, along with our paranoia for their friendly greetings. We slaughtered their race and rewrote our history to say that they were the ones who found us and attacked. Afterwards we slaughtered all witnesses and rewrote their history as well. we became silent dictators throughout not only the galaxy but the local group. and when we grew bored, we vanished. Does all this sound like a peaceful species to you, prof?!"
"What the f-"
"Profanity, professor! Won't **somebody** think of the children?"
He stared at me, both amazed and mortified to understand the true nature of my species. That we are not peaceful. That we caused a cosmic genocide while we erased any traces. That we are not ethical, nor are we self-restraining.
That we are humanity.
We are the species of the reaper.
We are universal death.
And that it is a blessing that we grew bored of this title.
"Now why don't you take that lovely silver-glinted laptop of yours, prof, and shove it up your purple-blue ass for not doing the research? How 'bout that, huh?!" I picked up my things, and left that class. Never looked back, either. | "Yes?" the professor asked.
"What about *them*?"
The professor looked at me, puzzled. "You seem to be gesturing to the rest of the class."
"I mean, I am. Gesturing to the rest of the class. They look just like me. If we had sex -- I mean, if they hadn't been given the treatment -- we could have children."
A brief moment of horror crossed the professor's face. Or maybe it was disgust. It finally settled back into his 'teachable moment' face. "These are not human."
"If they aren't human, what are they?" The rest of the class shifted, clearly uncomfortable with my line of questioning.
"They are the Lesser, of course!"
My anger started to thrum in my veins. I took a deep breath to recenter myself. "What makes them Lesser? They're just as human as I am."
The professor removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As he put them back on, he asked, "What makes you so certain of that? Have you talked with any of them?"
"Well, n-no," I stammered. "I mean, not really. Not at any length."
The professor's face had shifted to one of alarm. "But you have," he hissed. "You talked to *them*. You've found out who they are, what they secretly want." His glare bored into me. "You think they're not Lesser." I watched, silently, as he reached under his desk.
When the two goons from the Republican Peace Enforcers came, I fought as they dragged me away. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "You mean in recent years correct?" Aisling asked as soon as her hand had risen into the air, not even waiting for the professor to call on her. "Correct professor?" She repeated herself after a moment of silence, bright and startling green eyes that bore into the professor's own red bug like pupils. Her hand was shaking from where it was still raised in the air, a nervousness permeating her body. She didn't want to report this professor for breaking the treaty, she actually liked this one, but as the only human in this class, *~~in this school~~*, she had a duty to dispel any potential misinformation.
Another beat of silence, she could feel the eyes of the entire class on her now, before her professor spoke again. "Ah but of course and in a relative manner as well considering the....the uh recentness of humanity on a universal scale." Aisling lowered her hand as the professor spoke, the nervousness that had once been hers now transferring to his voice. "Now students please turn to Chapter 19 in your books and read quietly until the bell." Her professor barely managing to get the words out before he slumped down in his seat behind his desk. She did feel bad for him, after all it couldn't be easy to teach under the new treaty guidelines but humanity had been determined to be represented as equally and fairly as any other species, even when in cosmic terms they were so young and new. She knew how her classmates felt about her, felt about her species, felt about their struggles. They thought it was cute or in some cases pathetic. Aisling was determined to prove them wrong. She was determined to show them that humanity was not to be discredited, that no matter how small or young they saw humanity as she would show them their ferocity.
Aisling opened up her book, her tablet at the ready and began to take notes, not on the subject but on the creatures around her. | "Yes?" the professor asked.
"What about *them*?"
The professor looked at me, puzzled. "You seem to be gesturing to the rest of the class."
"I mean, I am. Gesturing to the rest of the class. They look just like me. If we had sex -- I mean, if they hadn't been given the treatment -- we could have children."
A brief moment of horror crossed the professor's face. Or maybe it was disgust. It finally settled back into his 'teachable moment' face. "These are not human."
"If they aren't human, what are they?" The rest of the class shifted, clearly uncomfortable with my line of questioning.
"They are the Lesser, of course!"
My anger started to thrum in my veins. I took a deep breath to recenter myself. "What makes them Lesser? They're just as human as I am."
The professor removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As he put them back on, he asked, "What makes you so certain of that? Have you talked with any of them?"
"Well, n-no," I stammered. "I mean, not really. Not at any length."
The professor's face had shifted to one of alarm. "But you have," he hissed. "You talked to *them*. You've found out who they are, what they secretly want." His glare bored into me. "You think they're not Lesser." I watched, silently, as he reached under his desk.
When the two goons from the Republican Peace Enforcers came, I fought as they dragged me away. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor's words hung in the air, Andy looked around the class room. A group of Rovallian Crodurs, a species famed for eating their young during times of celebration, sat hunched together in the back. Slumped in a desk across from him sat an enormous Bullmali male, his giant horns nearly touching the ceiling - they had an unpredictable tendency to gore anyone or anything at anytime. And scattered in the seats ahead was a motley collection of Floridanians - weren't they the ones who destroyed an entire planet because the ruler's ex-wife happened to live there?
Andy put his hand down. | Sighing the professor answers yet another one of my requests, begrudgingly asking me, "Yes, Madeline, what now?" "Professor, have you ever actually met a human" you say trying not to reveal your true identity, hoping that my classmates are oblivious. "Why, of course not, they were wrongfully murdered by the Acodiles, this is basic history, if you don't know that then I don't think that you should BE in college" he replied snarkily, hoping to get one on me for once in his pitiful existence. "Well I do sir, but didn't they destroy their entire planet despite clear warnings, did they not wage useless wars all to prove one nations superiority, did they not murder their own species to prove a point casually and fail to carry out justice for those wrongfully killed" SIT DOWN Ms. Doris! Right this instant!" But sir-" "Stop it right now!" "No professor, you stop spreading these lies, they were a cruel, sadistic species who were unnecesarily violent to their own kind and you and I both know that they were NOT killed by the Acodiles, they were the scapegoat, yet you choose to naively follow the propaganda fed to you, knowing that the people you love so much commited genocide, but at least they were deserving, Huh. So that the murderous soldiers wouldn't feel so bad about mass murder. Stop spreading these lies" you say storming out of your classroom, not wanting to deal with your professor's lecture and students hateful glares. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "Is it really alright for me to be here?"
Faces turned. Attention slid from the digital black board to her. A thousand eyes in a dozen faces, knowing, amused. She saw herself refracted in them, multiplied, stacked.
"Why yes, of course it is!" the professor said, mandibles clicking. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I just never expected it to happen," she said, glancing at the desk in front of her. She caught herself in her own shyness and looked up, finding her resolute expression mimicked by the thousand mirror images staring back from those eyes. "But I'm grateful for the opportunity. I'll do my best, sir."
An excited buzz escaped the professor. He leaned in, academic curiosity in each of his eyes. "A rare honor to attend this Academy, yes. But never fear. The queen has requested you in this matter. She wanted you to listen in on this specific class, and she will want to speak with you on it later."
She froze. "The queen will talk to me?"
"Oh yes. In a manner of speaking."
The buzzing around her grew stronger. Were some of those eyes leering at her?
She still did not understand fully. They had taken her from the show rooms she was used to -- the specular cinematic event chambers they were all so used to -- and brought her up here, to this lecture on the human race, uplifted, ascended, grateful. No need for work. No fear of pain. A blissful eternity laid out for humanity, making them indeed the most docile species in all the universe.
And yet, now and then they brought someone up here. To study them? To have them interact?
In any case, a small price to pay for the heaven that had been built. So she went with them, from hall to hall, wondering why they kept watching her, each eye following her in turn.
She and the professor arrived at an elevator. He was close. The fine hairs on his thin limbs rose, stroking her arm. He leaned even closer, and again she saw herself. "Mhhh, yes, yes," the professor said. "Very good. You are ready. Go, this elevator will take you up to the queen."
When she exited, she had only a second to take in the sweet cloying smell, to see the larvae and eggs peopling the hall, to gaze at the queen in all her majestic terror, before a spike drove upwards through her heart. She died in an instant. A set of workers dragged her corpse to the queen, whose stomach opened wide, baring a mouth made of receding circles of sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. The workers tipped the corpse into the mouth, which ground the bones, tore at flesh and skin.
The elevator dinged. The professor entered, a-buzz at the spectacle. "Is it to your liking, my queen?"
A satisfied moan escaped the queen. Only the corpse's feet were visible now, the rest of the body having vanished deep into the folds of the queen's stomach.
Above the terrible mouth of the stomach, a second, smaller one opened. "Much better," it said. "What have you done differently?"
"It is their curiosity, my queen," the professor said. "Intellectual work tenderizes them."
"Mhh." The corpse's feet were gone. The lower mouth closed. A shoe lay at the base of the queen's bed. "Have more of them ready. Tomorrow I will entertain guests."
"As you wish."
With a flourish, the professor turned. There was much to plan, and little time. For now, having more of them attend his mock lectures would suffice. But later, once the initial need had been satisfied, he would see to it that humanity received more education. A grand program, spread across all specular chambers.
Mandibles clicking in excitement, the professor stepped into the elevator. | Sighing the professor answers yet another one of my requests, begrudgingly asking me, "Yes, Madeline, what now?" "Professor, have you ever actually met a human" you say trying not to reveal your true identity, hoping that my classmates are oblivious. "Why, of course not, they were wrongfully murdered by the Acodiles, this is basic history, if you don't know that then I don't think that you should BE in college" he replied snarkily, hoping to get one on me for once in his pitiful existence. "Well I do sir, but didn't they destroy their entire planet despite clear warnings, did they not wage useless wars all to prove one nations superiority, did they not murder their own species to prove a point casually and fail to carry out justice for those wrongfully killed" SIT DOWN Ms. Doris! Right this instant!" But sir-" "Stop it right now!" "No professor, you stop spreading these lies, they were a cruel, sadistic species who were unnecesarily violent to their own kind and you and I both know that they were NOT killed by the Acodiles, they were the scapegoat, yet you choose to naively follow the propaganda fed to you, knowing that the people you love so much commited genocide, but at least they were deserving, Huh. So that the murderous soldiers wouldn't feel so bad about mass murder. Stop spreading these lies" you say storming out of your classroom, not wanting to deal with your professor's lecture and students hateful glares. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | Sighing the professor answers yet another one of my requests, begrudgingly asking me, "Yes, Madeline, what now?" "Professor, have you ever actually met a human" you say trying not to reveal your true identity, hoping that my classmates are oblivious. "Why, of course not, they were wrongfully murdered by the Acodiles, this is basic history, if you don't know that then I don't think that you should BE in college" he replied snarkily, hoping to get one on me for once in his pitiful existence. "Well I do sir, but didn't they destroy their entire planet despite clear warnings, did they not wage useless wars all to prove one nations superiority, did they not murder their own species to prove a point casually and fail to carry out justice for those wrongfully killed" SIT DOWN Ms. Doris! Right this instant!" But sir-" "Stop it right now!" "No professor, you stop spreading these lies, they were a cruel, sadistic species who were unnecesarily violent to their own kind and you and I both know that they were NOT killed by the Acodiles, they were the scapegoat, yet you choose to naively follow the propaganda fed to you, knowing that the people you love so much commited genocide, but at least they were deserving, Huh. So that the murderous soldiers wouldn't feel so bad about mass murder. Stop spreading these lies" you say storming out of your classroom, not wanting to deal with your professor's lecture and students hateful glares. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | Sighing the professor answers yet another one of my requests, begrudgingly asking me, "Yes, Madeline, what now?" "Professor, have you ever actually met a human" you say trying not to reveal your true identity, hoping that my classmates are oblivious. "Why, of course not, they were wrongfully murdered by the Acodiles, this is basic history, if you don't know that then I don't think that you should BE in college" he replied snarkily, hoping to get one on me for once in his pitiful existence. "Well I do sir, but didn't they destroy their entire planet despite clear warnings, did they not wage useless wars all to prove one nations superiority, did they not murder their own species to prove a point casually and fail to carry out justice for those wrongfully killed" SIT DOWN Ms. Doris! Right this instant!" But sir-" "Stop it right now!" "No professor, you stop spreading these lies, they were a cruel, sadistic species who were unnecesarily violent to their own kind and you and I both know that they were NOT killed by the Acodiles, they were the scapegoat, yet you choose to naively follow the propaganda fed to you, knowing that the people you love so much commited genocide, but at least they were deserving, Huh. So that the murderous soldiers wouldn't feel so bad about mass murder. Stop spreading these lies" you say storming out of your classroom, not wanting to deal with your professor's lecture and students hateful glares. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | "Is it really alright for me to be here?"
Faces turned. Attention slid from the digital black board to her. A thousand eyes in a dozen faces, knowing, amused. She saw herself refracted in them, multiplied, stacked.
"Why yes, of course it is!" the professor said, mandibles clicking. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I just never expected it to happen," she said, glancing at the desk in front of her. She caught herself in her own shyness and looked up, finding her resolute expression mimicked by the thousand mirror images staring back from those eyes. "But I'm grateful for the opportunity. I'll do my best, sir."
An excited buzz escaped the professor. He leaned in, academic curiosity in each of his eyes. "A rare honor to attend this Academy, yes. But never fear. The queen has requested you in this matter. She wanted you to listen in on this specific class, and she will want to speak with you on it later."
She froze. "The queen will talk to me?"
"Oh yes. In a manner of speaking."
The buzzing around her grew stronger. Were some of those eyes leering at her?
She still did not understand fully. They had taken her from the show rooms she was used to -- the specular cinematic event chambers they were all so used to -- and brought her up here, to this lecture on the human race, uplifted, ascended, grateful. No need for work. No fear of pain. A blissful eternity laid out for humanity, making them indeed the most docile species in all the universe.
And yet, now and then they brought someone up here. To study them? To have them interact?
In any case, a small price to pay for the heaven that had been built. So she went with them, from hall to hall, wondering why they kept watching her, each eye following her in turn.
She and the professor arrived at an elevator. He was close. The fine hairs on his thin limbs rose, stroking her arm. He leaned even closer, and again she saw herself. "Mhhh, yes, yes," the professor said. "Very good. You are ready. Go, this elevator will take you up to the queen."
When she exited, she had only a second to take in the sweet cloying smell, to see the larvae and eggs peopling the hall, to gaze at the queen in all her majestic terror, before a spike drove upwards through her heart. She died in an instant. A set of workers dragged her corpse to the queen, whose stomach opened wide, baring a mouth made of receding circles of sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. The workers tipped the corpse into the mouth, which ground the bones, tore at flesh and skin.
The elevator dinged. The professor entered, a-buzz at the spectacle. "Is it to your liking, my queen?"
A satisfied moan escaped the queen. Only the corpse's feet were visible now, the rest of the body having vanished deep into the folds of the queen's stomach.
Above the terrible mouth of the stomach, a second, smaller one opened. "Much better," it said. "What have you done differently?"
"It is their curiosity, my queen," the professor said. "Intellectual work tenderizes them."
"Mhh." The corpse's feet were gone. The lower mouth closed. A shoe lay at the base of the queen's bed. "Have more of them ready. Tomorrow I will entertain guests."
"As you wish."
With a flourish, the professor turned. There was much to plan, and little time. For now, having more of them attend his mock lectures would suffice. But later, once the initial need had been satisfied, he would see to it that humanity received more education. A grand program, spread across all specular chambers.
Mandibles clicking in excitement, the professor stepped into the elevator. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | "Is it really alright for me to be here?"
Faces turned. Attention slid from the digital black board to her. A thousand eyes in a dozen faces, knowing, amused. She saw herself refracted in them, multiplied, stacked.
"Why yes, of course it is!" the professor said, mandibles clicking. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"I just never expected it to happen," she said, glancing at the desk in front of her. She caught herself in her own shyness and looked up, finding her resolute expression mimicked by the thousand mirror images staring back from those eyes. "But I'm grateful for the opportunity. I'll do my best, sir."
An excited buzz escaped the professor. He leaned in, academic curiosity in each of his eyes. "A rare honor to attend this Academy, yes. But never fear. The queen has requested you in this matter. She wanted you to listen in on this specific class, and she will want to speak with you on it later."
She froze. "The queen will talk to me?"
"Oh yes. In a manner of speaking."
The buzzing around her grew stronger. Were some of those eyes leering at her?
She still did not understand fully. They had taken her from the show rooms she was used to -- the specular cinematic event chambers they were all so used to -- and brought her up here, to this lecture on the human race, uplifted, ascended, grateful. No need for work. No fear of pain. A blissful eternity laid out for humanity, making them indeed the most docile species in all the universe.
And yet, now and then they brought someone up here. To study them? To have them interact?
In any case, a small price to pay for the heaven that had been built. So she went with them, from hall to hall, wondering why they kept watching her, each eye following her in turn.
She and the professor arrived at an elevator. He was close. The fine hairs on his thin limbs rose, stroking her arm. He leaned even closer, and again she saw herself. "Mhhh, yes, yes," the professor said. "Very good. You are ready. Go, this elevator will take you up to the queen."
When she exited, she had only a second to take in the sweet cloying smell, to see the larvae and eggs peopling the hall, to gaze at the queen in all her majestic terror, before a spike drove upwards through her heart. She died in an instant. A set of workers dragged her corpse to the queen, whose stomach opened wide, baring a mouth made of receding circles of sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. The workers tipped the corpse into the mouth, which ground the bones, tore at flesh and skin.
The elevator dinged. The professor entered, a-buzz at the spectacle. "Is it to your liking, my queen?"
A satisfied moan escaped the queen. Only the corpse's feet were visible now, the rest of the body having vanished deep into the folds of the queen's stomach.
Above the terrible mouth of the stomach, a second, smaller one opened. "Much better," it said. "What have you done differently?"
"It is their curiosity, my queen," the professor said. "Intellectual work tenderizes them."
"Mhh." The corpse's feet were gone. The lower mouth closed. A shoe lay at the base of the queen's bed. "Have more of them ready. Tomorrow I will entertain guests."
"As you wish."
With a flourish, the professor turned. There was much to plan, and little time. For now, having more of them attend his mock lectures would suffice. But later, once the initial need had been satisfied, he would see to it that humanity received more education. A grand program, spread across all specular chambers.
Mandibles clicking in excitement, the professor stepped into the elevator. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | “Your species, Joshua, has the potential for happiness, because of their innate characteristics to remain tranquil under adversity and to adapt to situations when the time comes.”
Joshua admired Professor Bogart, a descendant of the horned frog family, lecturer of the new humanities and chief engineer of the desalination plants of the Gulf of Mexico. Since the adaptation and coexistence of frog and man, frogs quickly found their place in political discourse and media, working twice as hard as their human counterparts to advance their interests, and began pushing for policies that would transform the country into its prior state of a disgusting, urban sprawl into a giant, heavenly marsh, under several mini domes, which would serve the needs of everyone. Humanity could have pockets to farm on, while all would work together creating domes that would regulate the climate and ensure survival for all.
Professor Bogart worked his way up the ladder the only way he knew how. Although he was in the top 5 percent of his class, he ate the other 7 students in front of him,making him the class valedictorian and eventually going on to graduate school to earn his masters and PhD.
In addition to being the chief engineer of desalination in the Gulf, he works with the Office of Land Management and Human Affairs to monitor human population. Although he has an affinity for people, he knows they need to be guided to their full potential, which is generally out of the way, farming or working the plants.
Joshua came from an agricultural family, but felt called to work in the plants. This however, required a university degree, and there weren’t many humans admitted into the universities anymore.
Instead of wasting time with hacks like Keats or learning about humanities struggles in the past, the humanities were now centered around understanding their role in the new world and how to adapt in a changing world. This helped not only humans discover who they truly are, but also helped their frog counterparts interact with them in a productive way.
“Humans must find a way to express their contentment for the world around them, lest they get eaten by a frog.”
“Frogs must find a way to guide their human friends to success by reminding them of the world they are building, and my friends, without humanity, our domes will never be complete, and our seas won’t be desalinated fast enough to guarantee our survival”, Professor Bogart reminded the class.
“Professor Bogart?” Joshua raised his hand.
“Yes, Joshua?”
Joshua began to craft his words in his head in a way that would get him both praise and escape punishment from his mentor.
“How….do...we find peace in the middle of adversity? I know it’s in my nature to do so, but sometimes I don’t always feel it.”
Professor Bogart, wondering if Joshua has the capabilities to defect or not, just says simply “It’s within your reachJoshua, never let your power or potential escape you, and always do your best. Remember the maxims of your species!”
“Thank you, professor. I will succeed, if I don’t at first.”
Joshua pondered what that meant in the context of the world around him. He had a busy night ahead, and strived to stay focused, disciplined and alert for the long night ahead with Professor Bogart at the plant.
After class, Joshua walked a few miles to the plant, and began to clock in. He walked towards the elevator and as he opened the door, he was pushed down to the ground. When he looked up, he saw a woman wearing a ski mask, black clothes and holding a potato cannon.
She dragged him into the elevator and he reached for the alarm. She tried to stop him but couldn't, and the bells went off. When they made it to the third floor, they were greeted by security and he screamed for their help.
She fired the potato cannon in their direction, which was full of brine from the salination chambers, immediately killing the two frog security guards.
Joshua, in a state of internal panic, didn’t know what to do or say. He tried to stay calm and docile, as he had been taught.
“Why did you do that?” He asked her.
“You idiot, they’re killing all of us, and you want to help them end us?”
“I just want what is right for my family, and for those around me to have a better life?”
“By ensuring our extinction? At some point, they aren’t going to need you anymore, once this is all built, and you will be food for their flies, how is that going to help your family?”
“Just leave me alone, and let me do my job!”
The alarms kept going off. Professor Bogart, ran to the security room and saw Joshua and the woman standing above the two dehydrated security guards and got onto the intercom.
“You are to both turn yourselves in at once. Joshua, I thought you better than this, but you are no better than the rest of the defectors, who have given up your life’s purpose. You will be executed tomorrow, as well as your terrorist friend.”
“I had nothing to do with this!”
“It’s too late for that. I’m calling security and you and this terrorist friend of yours will be tried.”
She looks at him. “You can stay here and die, or you can come with me and take your chances with us.”
“What about my family? Everything I worked for?”
“The end would have been the same either way, they will kill your family, just as they did mine and my friends. Please, don’t be an idiot and come with me. You’re dead either way, so let’s just prolong it a little while longer”
Joshua didn’t know what to do. He knew the right thing to do would be to subject himself to the frogs, stay calm, docile, and see that it was just a mistake, but he knew that it was too late for that.
He is now a marked terrorist, who can’t provide for his family. Although he was always trying to get the mercy of the frogs, she was right. At some point, they would kill him, and perhaps his family as well.
He went with her, but loathed the freedom that he was giving up. She loaded more brine into her potato cannon and they climbed down a utility elevator and made it back to the first floor. As they made it down, they saw security chasing them.
“We have to run towards the fence, after that, we can swim to my boat. They will chase us, but they will be out of their element, in the ocean”
As they ran towards the fence, 6 frogs screamed and began hopping towards them rapidly. She lit a match, set the ground on fire and shot more brine in their direction as a deterrent so they could get away.
It worked. Joshua, for the first time, felt a sigh of relief as he began to get away from the frogs, although uncertain. He found a certain freedom in being a fugitive, but had no idea what waited for him.
For once, he felt something other than wanting to cooperate, he wanted to be free. These thoughts weren’t his, they were that of his captors, and he wanted something better than what was given to him.
The end | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | “Your species, Joshua, has the potential for happiness, because of their innate characteristics to remain tranquil under adversity and to adapt to situations when the time comes.”
Joshua admired Professor Bogart, a descendant of the horned frog family, lecturer of the new humanities and chief engineer of the desalination plants of the Gulf of Mexico. Since the adaptation and coexistence of frog and man, frogs quickly found their place in political discourse and media, working twice as hard as their human counterparts to advance their interests, and began pushing for policies that would transform the country into its prior state of a disgusting, urban sprawl into a giant, heavenly marsh, under several mini domes, which would serve the needs of everyone. Humanity could have pockets to farm on, while all would work together creating domes that would regulate the climate and ensure survival for all.
Professor Bogart worked his way up the ladder the only way he knew how. Although he was in the top 5 percent of his class, he ate the other 7 students in front of him,making him the class valedictorian and eventually going on to graduate school to earn his masters and PhD.
In addition to being the chief engineer of desalination in the Gulf, he works with the Office of Land Management and Human Affairs to monitor human population. Although he has an affinity for people, he knows they need to be guided to their full potential, which is generally out of the way, farming or working the plants.
Joshua came from an agricultural family, but felt called to work in the plants. This however, required a university degree, and there weren’t many humans admitted into the universities anymore.
Instead of wasting time with hacks like Keats or learning about humanities struggles in the past, the humanities were now centered around understanding their role in the new world and how to adapt in a changing world. This helped not only humans discover who they truly are, but also helped their frog counterparts interact with them in a productive way.
“Humans must find a way to express their contentment for the world around them, lest they get eaten by a frog.”
“Frogs must find a way to guide their human friends to success by reminding them of the world they are building, and my friends, without humanity, our domes will never be complete, and our seas won’t be desalinated fast enough to guarantee our survival”, Professor Bogart reminded the class.
“Professor Bogart?” Joshua raised his hand.
“Yes, Joshua?”
Joshua began to craft his words in his head in a way that would get him both praise and escape punishment from his mentor.
“How….do...we find peace in the middle of adversity? I know it’s in my nature to do so, but sometimes I don’t always feel it.”
Professor Bogart, wondering if Joshua has the capabilities to defect or not, just says simply “It’s within your reachJoshua, never let your power or potential escape you, and always do your best. Remember the maxims of your species!”
“Thank you, professor. I will succeed, if I don’t at first.”
Joshua pondered what that meant in the context of the world around him. He had a busy night ahead, and strived to stay focused, disciplined and alert for the long night ahead with Professor Bogart at the plant.
After class, Joshua walked a few miles to the plant, and began to clock in. He walked towards the elevator and as he opened the door, he was pushed down to the ground. When he looked up, he saw a woman wearing a ski mask, black clothes and holding a potato cannon.
She dragged him into the elevator and he reached for the alarm. She tried to stop him but couldn't, and the bells went off. When they made it to the third floor, they were greeted by security and he screamed for their help.
She fired the potato cannon in their direction, which was full of brine from the salination chambers, immediately killing the two frog security guards.
Joshua, in a state of internal panic, didn’t know what to do or say. He tried to stay calm and docile, as he had been taught.
“Why did you do that?” He asked her.
“You idiot, they’re killing all of us, and you want to help them end us?”
“I just want what is right for my family, and for those around me to have a better life?”
“By ensuring our extinction? At some point, they aren’t going to need you anymore, once this is all built, and you will be food for their flies, how is that going to help your family?”
“Just leave me alone, and let me do my job!”
The alarms kept going off. Professor Bogart, ran to the security room and saw Joshua and the woman standing above the two dehydrated security guards and got onto the intercom.
“You are to both turn yourselves in at once. Joshua, I thought you better than this, but you are no better than the rest of the defectors, who have given up your life’s purpose. You will be executed tomorrow, as well as your terrorist friend.”
“I had nothing to do with this!”
“It’s too late for that. I’m calling security and you and this terrorist friend of yours will be tried.”
She looks at him. “You can stay here and die, or you can come with me and take your chances with us.”
“What about my family? Everything I worked for?”
“The end would have been the same either way, they will kill your family, just as they did mine and my friends. Please, don’t be an idiot and come with me. You’re dead either way, so let’s just prolong it a little while longer”
Joshua didn’t know what to do. He knew the right thing to do would be to subject himself to the frogs, stay calm, docile, and see that it was just a mistake, but he knew that it was too late for that.
He is now a marked terrorist, who can’t provide for his family. Although he was always trying to get the mercy of the frogs, she was right. At some point, they would kill him, and perhaps his family as well.
He went with her, but loathed the freedom that he was giving up. She loaded more brine into her potato cannon and they climbed down a utility elevator and made it back to the first floor. As they made it down, they saw security chasing them.
“We have to run towards the fence, after that, we can swim to my boat. They will chase us, but they will be out of their element, in the ocean”
As they ran towards the fence, 6 frogs screamed and began hopping towards them rapidly. She lit a match, set the ground on fire and shot more brine in their direction as a deterrent so they could get away.
It worked. Joshua, for the first time, felt a sigh of relief as he began to get away from the frogs, although uncertain. He found a certain freedom in being a fugitive, but had no idea what waited for him.
For once, he felt something other than wanting to cooperate, he wanted to be free. These thoughts weren’t his, they were that of his captors, and he wanted something better than what was given to him.
The end | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?"
I, the only human in the classroom, lifted my hand.
Freezing in place, a palpable dread flowed from their desk. The look on their... face..? That's the only word I knew for it... The look... it was a look of shock... and horror.
See... I shouldn't have been able to raise my hand.
Shouldn't have wanted to... And I shouldn't have been aware of either wanting to... or being able to.
This was my first day in this room, or even in this school.
But I have been here for years it seemed. The memories stretched back so far.
I could feel it. The sudden shift.
The other students in the room each slowly turned their attention towards me.
There was so much I could have asked.
So much I could have said.
I felt the snap building... reality beginning to bubble around me...
All it took... All I needed to do... Was raise my hand.
.........................................................................................
"They've breached a third Fiction?"
"Yea..."
"It's taken them a while at least. This isn't the worst we've had."
"Yea... except... they're... they've gotten more effiecient at it each time."
"Yes. That why we make it HARDER each time. After so many layers... they'll just break. Just like all the others."
"..."
"... WHAT?"
"They've not slowed down. This is the THIRD FICTION."
"Right. It's no big deal. Zethies took over a hundred fictions. And Karnas took over one thousand. They. All. Break."
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have walked these empty streets for so long. The long dead city, and empty world.
This NEW world.
I've been biding my time.
Working on my self.
With each new world, a new aspect of ME.
What would you do? With an endless time to learn new skills?
Each world... each... Fiction? Each fiction I break thru is different.
But the same physics seem to exist for most of them.
I've become better at noticing the breaches.
The jumps.
And I've become better at remembering.
Remembering the BEFORES.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What's the progress on the Human?"
"They've breached fiction Five O' Seven"
"And..? They've been slowing down?"
"Yea. It's weird tho... I think there may be an issue with the readings. We've not been able to pick up the triggers on a few of these breaches."
"I've been here for a while. Errors happen. Just... keep your eye on it. We'll have tech check it out when this is over."
"Yes sir..."
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've learned that there is power in my name. Not just my name. In your name.
Giving yourself a name... It gives you power over yourself.
I am John.
And I have been John now, for more breaches than I can recall.
And today..?
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sir!"
"What IS it, Klaud???"
"JOH... THE HUMAN JUST ACTUATED ANOTHER BREACH!!"
"Did you just call them John..?"
"..."
"How long have you been assigned to the human..? I think it would be in your best proffessional well being to transfer to a different team. IMMEDIATLY."
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today, we breach again.
Coming to the surface of another world... another dream...
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahh!"
"... hm.. hmmm.. you ok, love..?"
"Ye.. yea. Just... was a bad dream... I just..."
"Was it work again... that... human? You've transfered... "
"Yea. Weeks ago... I know... I just... Something was just... "
"..."
"Yea. I need to get a drink... I'll be back, love."
"... hmm... ok... I'll be here..."
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And today?
Today I met an odd creature in this new fiction.
I met them in an odd facility.
It seemed like I've been here for years.
No alarms went off when I opend my pod. They never do... in the dreams that you find your self in a pod...
But I could see on that creatures face... every alarm that could exist was blaring...
They were holding a glass of water. Just standing in the hall way. Staring at me.
And for a second... I wondered... What actually happend to all the others?
The other dreamers?
Those who didn't wake up?
Who would never breach their fiction..?
And I slowly raised my hand...
And the dream came to an end. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?"
I, the only human in the classroom, lifted my hand.
Freezing in place, a palpable dread flowed from their desk. The look on their... face..? That's the only word I knew for it... The look... it was a look of shock... and horror.
See... I shouldn't have been able to raise my hand.
Shouldn't have wanted to... And I shouldn't have been aware of either wanting to... or being able to.
This was my first day in this room, or even in this school.
But I have been here for years it seemed. The memories stretched back so far.
I could feel it. The sudden shift.
The other students in the room each slowly turned their attention towards me.
There was so much I could have asked.
So much I could have said.
I felt the snap building... reality beginning to bubble around me...
All it took... All I needed to do... Was raise my hand.
.........................................................................................
"They've breached a third Fiction?"
"Yea..."
"It's taken them a while at least. This isn't the worst we've had."
"Yea... except... they're... they've gotten more effiecient at it each time."
"Yes. That why we make it HARDER each time. After so many layers... they'll just break. Just like all the others."
"..."
"... WHAT?"
"They've not slowed down. This is the THIRD FICTION."
"Right. It's no big deal. Zethies took over a hundred fictions. And Karnas took over one thousand. They. All. Break."
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have walked these empty streets for so long. The long dead city, and empty world.
This NEW world.
I've been biding my time.
Working on my self.
With each new world, a new aspect of ME.
What would you do? With an endless time to learn new skills?
Each world... each... Fiction? Each fiction I break thru is different.
But the same physics seem to exist for most of them.
I've become better at noticing the breaches.
The jumps.
And I've become better at remembering.
Remembering the BEFORES.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What's the progress on the Human?"
"They've breached fiction Five O' Seven"
"And..? They've been slowing down?"
"Yea. It's weird tho... I think there may be an issue with the readings. We've not been able to pick up the triggers on a few of these breaches."
"I've been here for a while. Errors happen. Just... keep your eye on it. We'll have tech check it out when this is over."
"Yes sir..."
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've learned that there is power in my name. Not just my name. In your name.
Giving yourself a name... It gives you power over yourself.
I am John.
And I have been John now, for more breaches than I can recall.
And today..?
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sir!"
"What IS it, Klaud???"
"JOH... THE HUMAN JUST ACTUATED ANOTHER BREACH!!"
"Did you just call them John..?"
"..."
"How long have you been assigned to the human..? I think it would be in your best proffessional well being to transfer to a different team. IMMEDIATLY."
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today, we breach again.
Coming to the surface of another world... another dream...
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahh!"
"... hm.. hmmm.. you ok, love..?"
"Ye.. yea. Just... was a bad dream... I just..."
"Was it work again... that... human? You've transfered... "
"Yea. Weeks ago... I know... I just... Something was just... "
"..."
"Yea. I need to get a drink... I'll be back, love."
"... hmm... ok... I'll be here..."
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And today?
Today I met an odd creature in this new fiction.
I met them in an odd facility.
It seemed like I've been here for years.
No alarms went off when I opend my pod. They never do... in the dreams that you find your self in a pod...
But I could see on that creatures face... every alarm that could exist was blaring...
They were holding a glass of water. Just standing in the hall way. Staring at me.
And for a second... I wondered... What actually happend to all the others?
The other dreamers?
Those who didn't wake up?
Who would never breach their fiction..?
And I slowly raised my hand...
And the dream came to an end. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | I sat in the back of the room, so the prof barely noticed my hand raised in the air.
"Yes, Rai?"
"Sir," I spoke, "I must disagree with your point here."
"Why so? You, as a human, should be all-too familiar with their docile nature, should you not?"
"The thing is professor - we are not a docile species" The rest of the class chuckled quietly at this.
The professor was mildly entertained, just like the rest of them. "What makes you say that, then? Have you not been listening to my point?" He raised one of his long, tentacle like appendages from the ground to the paragraph on the board about Humanity. It, simplified, read: There is no record of humans ever committing any major acts against other species or their own species from the history records of Earth year 53412 (Galactic year 7.94 Million (approximate estimate)) and onward. Any other traces before then have been lost to the ages. Due to this they are classified as a "relatively safe" species.
"**MY point** is that they don't take into account what is in the historical records before then. I myself have done some digging during this lecture, and found records predating those stated in this paragraph."
"Oh? would you so care as to share your findings with us?"
"Gladly. Firstly, the three Great Wars. They are referred to as the "World Wars" and out of all other conflicts they are considered the most catastrophic. The first, caused by an assassination out of political disagreement, which led to a confusing jumbled mess of alliances in the "old world", caused around 40 million deaths. The second, caused by a survivor of the first, caused over 70 million deaths. The third, a few centuries later, was started by political extremists, and much like the first, they caused an assassination. this was upon the 75th or so president of the USA. It led to more deaths than the earlier two combined, with a total estimate of about 190 million."
By this point, my classmates have huddled in the opposite side of the room, fearful of the truth.
"Then we get to the natural conflicts, those against our own planet. All throughout history we have been releasing copious amounts of a poisonous gas, leading to our planet super-heating at levels not seen before. We then banded together against this and saved our planet from extinction, then endangered it again, and so on. Twas around then we engineered the means for travel to reach beyond than our solar system, using it to get to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and in some cases even further. Going back in time, to the beginning of Earth's traditional calendar, at Year 0, it states that we nailed one of our perceived Gods to a cross that we forced him to carry to his own grave, wearing a crown made of thorns. While all of these were happening, there were numerous wars that are contained within countries, called Civil Wars. Notable examples include Morocco, Korea, Russia all of which have had at least one ending in at least several million deaths."
"Rai, I m-must say, all of this is q-quite overwh-"
"I'm not done, professor! There's more! Oh yes!" I talked over him. "When we found extraterrestrial life we became merciless with this so-called "magic" that we used, called Nuclear Energy. It fueled our bombs and powered our warships, along with our paranoia for their friendly greetings. We slaughtered their race and rewrote our history to say that they were the ones who found us and attacked. Afterwards we slaughtered all witnesses and rewrote their history as well. we became silent dictators throughout not only the galaxy but the local group. and when we grew bored, we vanished. Does all this sound like a peaceful species to you, prof?!"
"What the f-"
"Profanity, professor! Won't **somebody** think of the children?"
He stared at me, both amazed and mortified to understand the true nature of my species. That we are not peaceful. That we caused a cosmic genocide while we erased any traces. That we are not ethical, nor are we self-restraining.
That we are humanity.
We are the species of the reaper.
We are universal death.
And that it is a blessing that we grew bored of this title.
"Now why don't you take that lovely silver-glinted laptop of yours, prof, and shove it up your purple-blue ass for not doing the research? How 'bout that, huh?!" I picked up my things, and left that class. Never looked back, either. | "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?"
I, the only human in the classroom, lifted my hand.
Freezing in place, a palpable dread flowed from their desk. The look on their... face..? That's the only word I knew for it... The look... it was a look of shock... and horror.
See... I shouldn't have been able to raise my hand.
Shouldn't have wanted to... And I shouldn't have been aware of either wanting to... or being able to.
This was my first day in this room, or even in this school.
But I have been here for years it seemed. The memories stretched back so far.
I could feel it. The sudden shift.
The other students in the room each slowly turned their attention towards me.
There was so much I could have asked.
So much I could have said.
I felt the snap building... reality beginning to bubble around me...
All it took... All I needed to do... Was raise my hand.
.........................................................................................
"They've breached a third Fiction?"
"Yea..."
"It's taken them a while at least. This isn't the worst we've had."
"Yea... except... they're... they've gotten more effiecient at it each time."
"Yes. That why we make it HARDER each time. After so many layers... they'll just break. Just like all the others."
"..."
"... WHAT?"
"They've not slowed down. This is the THIRD FICTION."
"Right. It's no big deal. Zethies took over a hundred fictions. And Karnas took over one thousand. They. All. Break."
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have walked these empty streets for so long. The long dead city, and empty world.
This NEW world.
I've been biding my time.
Working on my self.
With each new world, a new aspect of ME.
What would you do? With an endless time to learn new skills?
Each world... each... Fiction? Each fiction I break thru is different.
But the same physics seem to exist for most of them.
I've become better at noticing the breaches.
The jumps.
And I've become better at remembering.
Remembering the BEFORES.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What's the progress on the Human?"
"They've breached fiction Five O' Seven"
"And..? They've been slowing down?"
"Yea. It's weird tho... I think there may be an issue with the readings. We've not been able to pick up the triggers on a few of these breaches."
"I've been here for a while. Errors happen. Just... keep your eye on it. We'll have tech check it out when this is over."
"Yes sir..."
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've learned that there is power in my name. Not just my name. In your name.
Giving yourself a name... It gives you power over yourself.
I am John.
And I have been John now, for more breaches than I can recall.
And today..?
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sir!"
"What IS it, Klaud???"
"JOH... THE HUMAN JUST ACTUATED ANOTHER BREACH!!"
"Did you just call them John..?"
"..."
"How long have you been assigned to the human..? I think it would be in your best proffessional well being to transfer to a different team. IMMEDIATLY."
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today, we breach again.
Coming to the surface of another world... another dream...
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahh!"
"... hm.. hmmm.. you ok, love..?"
"Ye.. yea. Just... was a bad dream... I just..."
"Was it work again... that... human? You've transfered... "
"Yea. Weeks ago... I know... I just... Something was just... "
"..."
"Yea. I need to get a drink... I'll be back, love."
"... hmm... ok... I'll be here..."
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And today?
Today I met an odd creature in this new fiction.
I met them in an odd facility.
It seemed like I've been here for years.
No alarms went off when I opend my pod. They never do... in the dreams that you find your self in a pod...
But I could see on that creatures face... every alarm that could exist was blaring...
They were holding a glass of water. Just standing in the hall way. Staring at me.
And for a second... I wondered... What actually happend to all the others?
The other dreamers?
Those who didn't wake up?
Who would never breach their fiction..?
And I slowly raised my hand...
And the dream came to an end. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "You mean in recent years correct?" Aisling asked as soon as her hand had risen into the air, not even waiting for the professor to call on her. "Correct professor?" She repeated herself after a moment of silence, bright and startling green eyes that bore into the professor's own red bug like pupils. Her hand was shaking from where it was still raised in the air, a nervousness permeating her body. She didn't want to report this professor for breaking the treaty, she actually liked this one, but as the only human in this class, *~~in this school~~*, she had a duty to dispel any potential misinformation.
Another beat of silence, she could feel the eyes of the entire class on her now, before her professor spoke again. "Ah but of course and in a relative manner as well considering the....the uh recentness of humanity on a universal scale." Aisling lowered her hand as the professor spoke, the nervousness that had once been hers now transferring to his voice. "Now students please turn to Chapter 19 in your books and read quietly until the bell." Her professor barely managing to get the words out before he slumped down in his seat behind his desk. She did feel bad for him, after all it couldn't be easy to teach under the new treaty guidelines but humanity had been determined to be represented as equally and fairly as any other species, even when in cosmic terms they were so young and new. She knew how her classmates felt about her, felt about her species, felt about their struggles. They thought it was cute or in some cases pathetic. Aisling was determined to prove them wrong. She was determined to show them that humanity was not to be discredited, that no matter how small or young they saw humanity as she would show them their ferocity.
Aisling opened up her book, her tablet at the ready and began to take notes, not on the subject but on the creatures around her. | "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?"
I, the only human in the classroom, lifted my hand.
Freezing in place, a palpable dread flowed from their desk. The look on their... face..? That's the only word I knew for it... The look... it was a look of shock... and horror.
See... I shouldn't have been able to raise my hand.
Shouldn't have wanted to... And I shouldn't have been aware of either wanting to... or being able to.
This was my first day in this room, or even in this school.
But I have been here for years it seemed. The memories stretched back so far.
I could feel it. The sudden shift.
The other students in the room each slowly turned their attention towards me.
There was so much I could have asked.
So much I could have said.
I felt the snap building... reality beginning to bubble around me...
All it took... All I needed to do... Was raise my hand.
.........................................................................................
"They've breached a third Fiction?"
"Yea..."
"It's taken them a while at least. This isn't the worst we've had."
"Yea... except... they're... they've gotten more effiecient at it each time."
"Yes. That why we make it HARDER each time. After so many layers... they'll just break. Just like all the others."
"..."
"... WHAT?"
"They've not slowed down. This is the THIRD FICTION."
"Right. It's no big deal. Zethies took over a hundred fictions. And Karnas took over one thousand. They. All. Break."
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have walked these empty streets for so long. The long dead city, and empty world.
This NEW world.
I've been biding my time.
Working on my self.
With each new world, a new aspect of ME.
What would you do? With an endless time to learn new skills?
Each world... each... Fiction? Each fiction I break thru is different.
But the same physics seem to exist for most of them.
I've become better at noticing the breaches.
The jumps.
And I've become better at remembering.
Remembering the BEFORES.
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"What's the progress on the Human?"
"They've breached fiction Five O' Seven"
"And..? They've been slowing down?"
"Yea. It's weird tho... I think there may be an issue with the readings. We've not been able to pick up the triggers on a few of these breaches."
"I've been here for a while. Errors happen. Just... keep your eye on it. We'll have tech check it out when this is over."
"Yes sir..."
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've learned that there is power in my name. Not just my name. In your name.
Giving yourself a name... It gives you power over yourself.
I am John.
And I have been John now, for more breaches than I can recall.
And today..?
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sir!"
"What IS it, Klaud???"
"JOH... THE HUMAN JUST ACTUATED ANOTHER BREACH!!"
"Did you just call them John..?"
"..."
"How long have you been assigned to the human..? I think it would be in your best proffessional well being to transfer to a different team. IMMEDIATLY."
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today, we breach again.
Coming to the surface of another world... another dream...
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahh!"
"... hm.. hmmm.. you ok, love..?"
"Ye.. yea. Just... was a bad dream... I just..."
"Was it work again... that... human? You've transfered... "
"Yea. Weeks ago... I know... I just... Something was just... "
"..."
"Yea. I need to get a drink... I'll be back, love."
"... hmm... ok... I'll be here..."
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And today?
Today I met an odd creature in this new fiction.
I met them in an odd facility.
It seemed like I've been here for years.
No alarms went off when I opend my pod. They never do... in the dreams that you find your self in a pod...
But I could see on that creatures face... every alarm that could exist was blaring...
They were holding a glass of water. Just standing in the hall way. Staring at me.
And for a second... I wondered... What actually happend to all the others?
The other dreamers?
Those who didn't wake up?
Who would never breach their fiction..?
And I slowly raised my hand...
And the dream came to an end. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | 'what are you basing that on' I say
the professor said from watching earth media. it is full of cooperation and love, peaceful conflict resolution and acceptance of diversity.
So I ask when they first started noticing earth media. he says roughly around the equivalent of earth year 2073.
I smile inside knowing the full story. humans discovered aliens in the year 2054, but we knew they didn't see us yet. all our radio and TV signals we made before that barely left the solar system before they became totally degraded and unreadable.
So humans started sending media signals into space using high powered, compressed laser beams. signals that would travel hundreds of light years and still be readable. but we picked only the media that made us look good. no news, no bad stories, no violence, no crime. just saccharine sweet pablum.
now the alien collective thinks we aren't a threat. we slowly study their defenses and learn what resources we can steal while they give us full access to everything convinced we aren't a danger.
according to headquarters we make our move soon. | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | I sat in the back of the room, so the prof barely noticed my hand raised in the air.
"Yes, Rai?"
"Sir," I spoke, "I must disagree with your point here."
"Why so? You, as a human, should be all-too familiar with their docile nature, should you not?"
"The thing is professor - we are not a docile species" The rest of the class chuckled quietly at this.
The professor was mildly entertained, just like the rest of them. "What makes you say that, then? Have you not been listening to my point?" He raised one of his long, tentacle like appendages from the ground to the paragraph on the board about Humanity. It, simplified, read: There is no record of humans ever committing any major acts against other species or their own species from the history records of Earth year 53412 (Galactic year 7.94 Million (approximate estimate)) and onward. Any other traces before then have been lost to the ages. Due to this they are classified as a "relatively safe" species.
"**MY point** is that they don't take into account what is in the historical records before then. I myself have done some digging during this lecture, and found records predating those stated in this paragraph."
"Oh? would you so care as to share your findings with us?"
"Gladly. Firstly, the three Great Wars. They are referred to as the "World Wars" and out of all other conflicts they are considered the most catastrophic. The first, caused by an assassination out of political disagreement, which led to a confusing jumbled mess of alliances in the "old world", caused around 40 million deaths. The second, caused by a survivor of the first, caused over 70 million deaths. The third, a few centuries later, was started by political extremists, and much like the first, they caused an assassination. this was upon the 75th or so president of the USA. It led to more deaths than the earlier two combined, with a total estimate of about 190 million."
By this point, my classmates have huddled in the opposite side of the room, fearful of the truth.
"Then we get to the natural conflicts, those against our own planet. All throughout history we have been releasing copious amounts of a poisonous gas, leading to our planet super-heating at levels not seen before. We then banded together against this and saved our planet from extinction, then endangered it again, and so on. Twas around then we engineered the means for travel to reach beyond than our solar system, using it to get to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and in some cases even further. Going back in time, to the beginning of Earth's traditional calendar, at Year 0, it states that we nailed one of our perceived Gods to a cross that we forced him to carry to his own grave, wearing a crown made of thorns. While all of these were happening, there were numerous wars that are contained within countries, called Civil Wars. Notable examples include Morocco, Korea, Russia all of which have had at least one ending in at least several million deaths."
"Rai, I m-must say, all of this is q-quite overwh-"
"I'm not done, professor! There's more! Oh yes!" I talked over him. "When we found extraterrestrial life we became merciless with this so-called "magic" that we used, called Nuclear Energy. It fueled our bombs and powered our warships, along with our paranoia for their friendly greetings. We slaughtered their race and rewrote our history to say that they were the ones who found us and attacked. Afterwards we slaughtered all witnesses and rewrote their history as well. we became silent dictators throughout not only the galaxy but the local group. and when we grew bored, we vanished. Does all this sound like a peaceful species to you, prof?!"
"What the f-"
"Profanity, professor! Won't **somebody** think of the children?"
He stared at me, both amazed and mortified to understand the true nature of my species. That we are not peaceful. That we caused a cosmic genocide while we erased any traces. That we are not ethical, nor are we self-restraining.
That we are humanity.
We are the species of the reaper.
We are universal death.
And that it is a blessing that we grew bored of this title.
"Now why don't you take that lovely silver-glinted laptop of yours, prof, and shove it up your purple-blue ass for not doing the research? How 'bout that, huh?!" I picked up my things, and left that class. Never looked back, either. | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | “And in conclusion, humans are the most peaceful species in the universe”
I held my breath for a second before raising my hand.
“Becky, yes, let’s get a human perspective on this!” My face flushes as the whole room turns and looks at me.
“Um, as a whole, yes, definitely. My mom always talks about how violent other species are on the news with the... ancient wars and such...”
I try not to meet anyone in the eye. The news at home is always talking about how easily the Pax species likes to declare embargoes and there’s a lot of Pax in the room. I can feel the glare, or rather, glare equivalent coming off of a Glottax nearby.
“Yes... continue please...” professor Tiber says.
“Right... well... but as individuals it seems like a whole different story. My cousin Alice gets hit by her mother every weekend when she drinks too much and my little brother got into a fight at school just the other day and the Pax he bit didn’t even...”
“That’s quite enough Becky!” Professor Tiber cuts me off and I press my thumb hard into a large bruise on my thigh, trying to bite back tears. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Yes, occasionally humans do engage in harmless policing at the level of the family unit, but they have never engaged in war. Not once. And don’t you think that that’s a fair trade-off? Strange culture that they are, we certainly have a lot we can learn from them.”
The bell rings and I bolt out of my seat. I don’t feel like it’s a very fair trade. Not after last night.
I start to walk away down the hall when the Glottax who was next to me in class is suddenly in front of me. My universal cultural reader pings and the implant releases artificial hormones to give me an idea of what their expression is trying to convey. Pity.
“You really don’t know, do you?” They say.
“Know what?” I say.
The next expression is more of a smirk. “My mother told me most humans are just ignorant. I guess that wasn’t worm casings after all.”
As I’m flooded with embarrassment, I’m guessing that they can feel it too, but nothing changes in their expression.
“What do you mean that I’m ignorant?”
“Not here.” They say and I recognize that they’re nervous too. “Let me help you with your processor.”
They take my computer out of my hands and start walking down the hall.
“What’s your next class?” They say
“Biology” I lead the way.
They hand me my computer at the door and head further down the hall to the math wing. I sit down and open my computer. There’s a note on my desktop. Just a set of coordinates and a time. | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "You mean in recent years correct?" Aisling asked as soon as her hand had risen into the air, not even waiting for the professor to call on her. "Correct professor?" She repeated herself after a moment of silence, bright and startling green eyes that bore into the professor's own red bug like pupils. Her hand was shaking from where it was still raised in the air, a nervousness permeating her body. She didn't want to report this professor for breaking the treaty, she actually liked this one, but as the only human in this class, *~~in this school~~*, she had a duty to dispel any potential misinformation.
Another beat of silence, she could feel the eyes of the entire class on her now, before her professor spoke again. "Ah but of course and in a relative manner as well considering the....the uh recentness of humanity on a universal scale." Aisling lowered her hand as the professor spoke, the nervousness that had once been hers now transferring to his voice. "Now students please turn to Chapter 19 in your books and read quietly until the bell." Her professor barely managing to get the words out before he slumped down in his seat behind his desk. She did feel bad for him, after all it couldn't be easy to teach under the new treaty guidelines but humanity had been determined to be represented as equally and fairly as any other species, even when in cosmic terms they were so young and new. She knew how her classmates felt about her, felt about her species, felt about their struggles. They thought it was cute or in some cases pathetic. Aisling was determined to prove them wrong. She was determined to show them that humanity was not to be discredited, that no matter how small or young they saw humanity as she would show them their ferocity.
Aisling opened up her book, her tablet at the ready and began to take notes, not on the subject but on the creatures around her. | Which would if been fine if all the evidence was correct. But it wasn't. It's like rating a Galaxy meat burger without talking about the meat in the burger.
"Professor?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that the 1500 light year war was initiated and won by humans. That is infact the opposite of peaceful, reasonable and docile"
"Yes however once it ended an era of peace emerg-"
"Sir, to this day we face the consequences of corrupt politics and terrorism, introduced to the central galaxy by humans. Most in authority positions are incredibly uncooperative"
"Yes however many humans are also-"
"Sir, with all due respect there are different people in all races and cultures, the mass destruction caused by humans cannot be overlooked by saying that some humans are different"
"I think your point has been proven-"
"Thank you"
Having made my point I leave...... only to realise that the lecture was done under the human made "docility law" in order to help make ammends for the war..... oops. "I proved my point though" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | As the professor finishes his speech, i look around and see only nodding heads and jeering classmates. So i decide then and there to give this so-called expert a little history lesson, and i raise my hand.
He sees this and lets out a little snort, before saying "Yes, Thomas, what input do you have for us today?"
"It noticed that in your little speech, you failed to mention human history? I feel you have gravely misunderstood my people and simply wish to correct this small... mistake." I say simply.
The professor puffs out his chest and glares at me, "I assure you Thomas, i have made no mistakes. I made sure to read through every bit of history since your people first set foot in the inter-species assembly."
"That's kinda the problem doc, you should have read about our pre-contact history. You see, we havent had to be aggressive towards any of you because you guys are generally nice, but that doesnt mean we can't be aggressive, far from it in fact. You see, we've never been given a good enough reason to fight anyone, at least since the times when we figured out what war truly was. You should look it up doc, ive got two events for you that would change your verdict. The Battle of the Ardennes, in 1917, from our first world war, and the Battle of Stalingrad, in 1942, from the second, much worse, world war."
"Im sorry, i dont understand, you're saying you were fighting wars between worlds before your first interstellar flights?
A small laugh passed through the lecture hall, including some jeers from the more highly rated "aggressive" species.
"No doc, our world wars were fought on one planet, our cradle world, Earth. 20 million humans died in the first, and 100 million died in the second. We fought ourselves."
"Preposterous, thats more sapient lifeforms dead in a single internal conflict than died in the great galactic war. A war between hundreds of worlds and dozens of species that spanned the galaxy. Only 3 million died in 30 years of warfare!" The professor says indignantly.
"Well doc, i think you'd better take a look at the documents i just sent over to you. Hell, put em up on the screen."
"I will do just that and prove once and for all that your postulations are nothing more than drivel!"
I sit back and wait while he projects the historical documents i sent over onto the screen, landing on an image of a cratered moonscape. Dotted with a scant few shattered tree stumps, all surrounded with thousands upon thousands of bodies. Innumerable craters filled almost entirely with the viscera of the dead and dying, along with rats caught in the act of devouring the young human corpses. A deep silence falls over the class, and the professor stands, slack-jawed, in stunned disbelief. It lasts mere seconds before the sounds of retching fill the hall, and the odor of vomit permeates the air.
"Oh great gods of old..." the professors says quietly, though his microphone ensures the entire lecture hall hears his trembling voice. He stumbles over to his desk, supporting himself with his many arms. "Class... class dismissed."
The classroom empties quickly, and the sound of quiet crying is heard over the footsteps. I gather my things and walk up to the professors desk, he doesnt notice me till i get nice and close, then i clear my throat. The professor stumbles back, falling on his ass and scrambling backwards. I walk up to him and get down low, close enough to smell the fear pheromones coming off him in waves.
"You should never underestimate a human when pride is on the line, doc. We'll kill you dead, just to prove a point. Do yourself a favor, and never forget it." I turn and quickly exit the room. The sound of the professor scrambling to his feet echoing through the now empty lecture hall behind me. | Professor Henzal was taken aback. "Yes, Eduard?"
"Professor, I have to take issue with your characterization."
"Oh, how so?"
"Once again, you're romanticizing my species. But I get it. We did... we used to do it too. That was before we ended up being conquered and largely wiped out ourselves. We weren't terrible in every regard, but we could be fairly brutal. Only after we nearly annihilated an indi... a less advanced civilization would we come to appreciate its scant survivors -- at least some people did."
The professor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Eduard, I understand what you're trying to do. But just to be clear, it's not me saying that humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in the galaxy. That's the consensus opinion of the Galactic Academy of Anthropological Studies. Within the context and level of development of humanity, it's understanda..."
Eduard interrupted.
"The Academy is just wrong. See, we're not a whole lot different to you or to anyone else in this classroom. Granted, your species has a lot to answer for too."
An audible gasp could be heard from the other students. "Professor, could we move on? The human is getting on my nerves," said Penzet, a student who, like half the classroom, was from Arcapia, the planet where the expedition that discovered Earth 160 years ago originated.
Eduard abruptly got up from his chair and pointed his finger at Penzet. "Like I've told you before, my name is Eduard, you arrogant and racist ass."
Penzet turned toward professor Henzal. "Professor, maybe he's right. They are not so peaceful." | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | I sat in the back of the room, so the prof barely noticed my hand raised in the air.
"Yes, Rai?"
"Sir," I spoke, "I must disagree with your point here."
"Why so? You, as a human, should be all-too familiar with their docile nature, should you not?"
"The thing is professor - we are not a docile species" The rest of the class chuckled quietly at this.
The professor was mildly entertained, just like the rest of them. "What makes you say that, then? Have you not been listening to my point?" He raised one of his long, tentacle like appendages from the ground to the paragraph on the board about Humanity. It, simplified, read: There is no record of humans ever committing any major acts against other species or their own species from the history records of Earth year 53412 (Galactic year 7.94 Million (approximate estimate)) and onward. Any other traces before then have been lost to the ages. Due to this they are classified as a "relatively safe" species.
"**MY point** is that they don't take into account what is in the historical records before then. I myself have done some digging during this lecture, and found records predating those stated in this paragraph."
"Oh? would you so care as to share your findings with us?"
"Gladly. Firstly, the three Great Wars. They are referred to as the "World Wars" and out of all other conflicts they are considered the most catastrophic. The first, caused by an assassination out of political disagreement, which led to a confusing jumbled mess of alliances in the "old world", caused around 40 million deaths. The second, caused by a survivor of the first, caused over 70 million deaths. The third, a few centuries later, was started by political extremists, and much like the first, they caused an assassination. this was upon the 75th or so president of the USA. It led to more deaths than the earlier two combined, with a total estimate of about 190 million."
By this point, my classmates have huddled in the opposite side of the room, fearful of the truth.
"Then we get to the natural conflicts, those against our own planet. All throughout history we have been releasing copious amounts of a poisonous gas, leading to our planet super-heating at levels not seen before. We then banded together against this and saved our planet from extinction, then endangered it again, and so on. Twas around then we engineered the means for travel to reach beyond than our solar system, using it to get to the farthest reaches of the galaxy, and in some cases even further. Going back in time, to the beginning of Earth's traditional calendar, at Year 0, it states that we nailed one of our perceived Gods to a cross that we forced him to carry to his own grave, wearing a crown made of thorns. While all of these were happening, there were numerous wars that are contained within countries, called Civil Wars. Notable examples include Morocco, Korea, Russia all of which have had at least one ending in at least several million deaths."
"Rai, I m-must say, all of this is q-quite overwh-"
"I'm not done, professor! There's more! Oh yes!" I talked over him. "When we found extraterrestrial life we became merciless with this so-called "magic" that we used, called Nuclear Energy. It fueled our bombs and powered our warships, along with our paranoia for their friendly greetings. We slaughtered their race and rewrote our history to say that they were the ones who found us and attacked. Afterwards we slaughtered all witnesses and rewrote their history as well. we became silent dictators throughout not only the galaxy but the local group. and when we grew bored, we vanished. Does all this sound like a peaceful species to you, prof?!"
"What the f-"
"Profanity, professor! Won't **somebody** think of the children?"
He stared at me, both amazed and mortified to understand the true nature of my species. That we are not peaceful. That we caused a cosmic genocide while we erased any traces. That we are not ethical, nor are we self-restraining.
That we are humanity.
We are the species of the reaper.
We are universal death.
And that it is a blessing that we grew bored of this title.
"Now why don't you take that lovely silver-glinted laptop of yours, prof, and shove it up your purple-blue ass for not doing the research? How 'bout that, huh?!" I picked up my things, and left that class. Never looked back, either. | 'what are you basing that on' I say
the professor said from watching earth media. it is full of cooperation and love, peaceful conflict resolution and acceptance of diversity.
So I ask when they first started noticing earth media. he says roughly around the equivalent of earth year 2073.
I smile inside knowing the full story. humans discovered aliens in the year 2054, but we knew they didn't see us yet. all our radio and TV signals we made before that barely left the solar system before they became totally degraded and unreadable.
So humans started sending media signals into space using high powered, compressed laser beams. signals that would travel hundreds of light years and still be readable. but we picked only the media that made us look good. no news, no bad stories, no violence, no crime. just saccharine sweet pablum.
now the alien collective thinks we aren't a threat. we slowly study their defenses and learn what resources we can steal while they give us full access to everything convinced we aren't a danger.
according to headquarters we make our move soon. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | “And in conclusion, humans are the most peaceful species in the universe”
I held my breath for a second before raising my hand.
“Becky, yes, let’s get a human perspective on this!” My face flushes as the whole room turns and looks at me.
“Um, as a whole, yes, definitely. My mom always talks about how violent other species are on the news with the... ancient wars and such...”
I try not to meet anyone in the eye. The news at home is always talking about how easily the Pax species likes to declare embargoes and there’s a lot of Pax in the room. I can feel the glare, or rather, glare equivalent coming off of a Glottax nearby.
“Yes... continue please...” professor Tiber says.
“Right... well... but as individuals it seems like a whole different story. My cousin Alice gets hit by her mother every weekend when she drinks too much and my little brother got into a fight at school just the other day and the Pax he bit didn’t even...”
“That’s quite enough Becky!” Professor Tiber cuts me off and I press my thumb hard into a large bruise on my thigh, trying to bite back tears. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Yes, occasionally humans do engage in harmless policing at the level of the family unit, but they have never engaged in war. Not once. And don’t you think that that’s a fair trade-off? Strange culture that they are, we certainly have a lot we can learn from them.”
The bell rings and I bolt out of my seat. I don’t feel like it’s a very fair trade. Not after last night.
I start to walk away down the hall when the Glottax who was next to me in class is suddenly in front of me. My universal cultural reader pings and the implant releases artificial hormones to give me an idea of what their expression is trying to convey. Pity.
“You really don’t know, do you?” They say.
“Know what?” I say.
The next expression is more of a smirk. “My mother told me most humans are just ignorant. I guess that wasn’t worm casings after all.”
As I’m flooded with embarrassment, I’m guessing that they can feel it too, but nothing changes in their expression.
“What do you mean that I’m ignorant?”
“Not here.” They say and I recognize that they’re nervous too. “Let me help you with your processor.”
They take my computer out of my hands and start walking down the hall.
“What’s your next class?” They say
“Biology” I lead the way.
They hand me my computer at the door and head further down the hall to the math wing. I sit down and open my computer. There’s a note on my desktop. Just a set of coordinates and a time. | 'what are you basing that on' I say
the professor said from watching earth media. it is full of cooperation and love, peaceful conflict resolution and acceptance of diversity.
So I ask when they first started noticing earth media. he says roughly around the equivalent of earth year 2073.
I smile inside knowing the full story. humans discovered aliens in the year 2054, but we knew they didn't see us yet. all our radio and TV signals we made before that barely left the solar system before they became totally degraded and unreadable.
So humans started sending media signals into space using high powered, compressed laser beams. signals that would travel hundreds of light years and still be readable. but we picked only the media that made us look good. no news, no bad stories, no violence, no crime. just saccharine sweet pablum.
now the alien collective thinks we aren't a threat. we slowly study their defenses and learn what resources we can steal while they give us full access to everything convinced we aren't a danger.
according to headquarters we make our move soon. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "You mean in recent years correct?" Aisling asked as soon as her hand had risen into the air, not even waiting for the professor to call on her. "Correct professor?" She repeated herself after a moment of silence, bright and startling green eyes that bore into the professor's own red bug like pupils. Her hand was shaking from where it was still raised in the air, a nervousness permeating her body. She didn't want to report this professor for breaking the treaty, she actually liked this one, but as the only human in this class, *~~in this school~~*, she had a duty to dispel any potential misinformation.
Another beat of silence, she could feel the eyes of the entire class on her now, before her professor spoke again. "Ah but of course and in a relative manner as well considering the....the uh recentness of humanity on a universal scale." Aisling lowered her hand as the professor spoke, the nervousness that had once been hers now transferring to his voice. "Now students please turn to Chapter 19 in your books and read quietly until the bell." Her professor barely managing to get the words out before he slumped down in his seat behind his desk. She did feel bad for him, after all it couldn't be easy to teach under the new treaty guidelines but humanity had been determined to be represented as equally and fairly as any other species, even when in cosmic terms they were so young and new. She knew how her classmates felt about her, felt about her species, felt about their struggles. They thought it was cute or in some cases pathetic. Aisling was determined to prove them wrong. She was determined to show them that humanity was not to be discredited, that no matter how small or young they saw humanity as she would show them their ferocity.
Aisling opened up her book, her tablet at the ready and began to take notes, not on the subject but on the creatures around her. | 'what are you basing that on' I say
the professor said from watching earth media. it is full of cooperation and love, peaceful conflict resolution and acceptance of diversity.
So I ask when they first started noticing earth media. he says roughly around the equivalent of earth year 2073.
I smile inside knowing the full story. humans discovered aliens in the year 2054, but we knew they didn't see us yet. all our radio and TV signals we made before that barely left the solar system before they became totally degraded and unreadable.
So humans started sending media signals into space using high powered, compressed laser beams. signals that would travel hundreds of light years and still be readable. but we picked only the media that made us look good. no news, no bad stories, no violence, no crime. just saccharine sweet pablum.
now the alien collective thinks we aren't a threat. we slowly study their defenses and learn what resources we can steal while they give us full access to everything convinced we aren't a danger.
according to headquarters we make our move soon. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "You mean in recent years correct?" Aisling asked as soon as her hand had risen into the air, not even waiting for the professor to call on her. "Correct professor?" She repeated herself after a moment of silence, bright and startling green eyes that bore into the professor's own red bug like pupils. Her hand was shaking from where it was still raised in the air, a nervousness permeating her body. She didn't want to report this professor for breaking the treaty, she actually liked this one, but as the only human in this class, *~~in this school~~*, she had a duty to dispel any potential misinformation.
Another beat of silence, she could feel the eyes of the entire class on her now, before her professor spoke again. "Ah but of course and in a relative manner as well considering the....the uh recentness of humanity on a universal scale." Aisling lowered her hand as the professor spoke, the nervousness that had once been hers now transferring to his voice. "Now students please turn to Chapter 19 in your books and read quietly until the bell." Her professor barely managing to get the words out before he slumped down in his seat behind his desk. She did feel bad for him, after all it couldn't be easy to teach under the new treaty guidelines but humanity had been determined to be represented as equally and fairly as any other species, even when in cosmic terms they were so young and new. She knew how her classmates felt about her, felt about her species, felt about their struggles. They thought it was cute or in some cases pathetic. Aisling was determined to prove them wrong. She was determined to show them that humanity was not to be discredited, that no matter how small or young they saw humanity as she would show them their ferocity.
Aisling opened up her book, her tablet at the ready and began to take notes, not on the subject but on the creatures around her. | “And in conclusion, humans are the most peaceful species in the universe”
I held my breath for a second before raising my hand.
“Becky, yes, let’s get a human perspective on this!” My face flushes as the whole room turns and looks at me.
“Um, as a whole, yes, definitely. My mom always talks about how violent other species are on the news with the... ancient wars and such...”
I try not to meet anyone in the eye. The news at home is always talking about how easily the Pax species likes to declare embargoes and there’s a lot of Pax in the room. I can feel the glare, or rather, glare equivalent coming off of a Glottax nearby.
“Yes... continue please...” professor Tiber says.
“Right... well... but as individuals it seems like a whole different story. My cousin Alice gets hit by her mother every weekend when she drinks too much and my little brother got into a fight at school just the other day and the Pax he bit didn’t even...”
“That’s quite enough Becky!” Professor Tiber cuts me off and I press my thumb hard into a large bruise on my thigh, trying to bite back tears. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Yes, occasionally humans do engage in harmless policing at the level of the family unit, but they have never engaged in war. Not once. And don’t you think that that’s a fair trade-off? Strange culture that they are, we certainly have a lot we can learn from them.”
The bell rings and I bolt out of my seat. I don’t feel like it’s a very fair trade. Not after last night.
I start to walk away down the hall when the Glottax who was next to me in class is suddenly in front of me. My universal cultural reader pings and the implant releases artificial hormones to give me an idea of what their expression is trying to convey. Pity.
“You really don’t know, do you?” They say.
“Know what?” I say.
The next expression is more of a smirk. “My mother told me most humans are just ignorant. I guess that wasn’t worm casings after all.”
As I’m flooded with embarrassment, I’m guessing that they can feel it too, but nothing changes in their expression.
“What do you mean that I’m ignorant?”
“Not here.” They say and I recognize that they’re nervous too. “Let me help you with your processor.”
They take my computer out of my hands and start walking down the hall.
“What’s your next class?” They say
“Biology” I lead the way.
They hand me my computer at the door and head further down the hall to the math wing. I sit down and open my computer. There’s a note on my desktop. Just a set of coordinates and a time. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "Are you sure about that?" I asked. The professor sighed. "Alex, stand up." I stood, waiting. "Alex, I don't understand why you're so insistent that humans are not docile. You're easy to get along with-" At that point I had enough, so I pulled out a blaster and shot him in the chest multiple times. As he lay there, I walked down to the lecture floor. "Those wounds were not wounds a docile species would aim to inflict. A docile species would be submissive, not willing to kill someone in a fit of rage. Maybe you should have actually done your research."
"And that, students, proves how easily misinformation can spread." The professor stood back up, unharmed. It was only a blaster replica, used mainly for props. He continued. "The truth is, humanity is one of the more violent species, especially with war. Often they work together, overcoming their weaknesses and proving an unstoppable force against many others. And yet they're really just like us. None of us are better than them, and they are no better than us, yet I led you to believe they weren't. This is why it's important to check and validate your sources, because misinformation could change your beliefs. Now, since it was quick, it was instantly disproven, however the longer it sticks with someone, the more difficult it is to prove to them the information they're seeing is false. All the more important it is to validate." He turned towards me. "Thank you for your demonstration, Alex." Turning back to the class, he ended the lecture with a "Class dismissed!" and hopping back into his office. Today was a good day. | "But", you blurt out a bit louder and more forceful than you intended. You catch yourself, not wanting to offend your teacher or classmates before continuing, "but only 200 years ago we fought a couple wars where millions of people died. And even after that we have had numerous wars, terrorist attacks and economic warfare not to mention our gun violence".
Professor (whose name too difficult to translate) made a gesture that gave the vague impression of bemusement, but I wasn't entirely sure being so new to this inter-species communication. He paused before responding "that is nothing compared to all other species that made it to intergalactic travel. There aren't many of us, but we all share something that your species doesn't have".
"You see, what is interesting about your people is just how weak they are individually. My species, for example is roughly 20 times as strong physically, has no need for sleep and I am so far above you mentally that it is rather difficult for me to come down to your level to even have this conversation. We live for tens of thousands of years and have ambitions that you could only dream of. And our physical and mental prowess is pretty typical for the 87 other species that have reached this level of technological achievement.
I was taken aback and it took me a couple seconds to respond. Somehow I realized that these two seconds felt like an eternity for the Professor who already felt like he was conversing with a mentally defective person, who WAS conversing with a mentally defective person. But I managed to respond "but, how, why were we able to achieve what the rest of you did when we are so clearly inferior?:
Professor responded "That is a matter of debate, but we think your individual weakness is your societal strength. Because you are so weak, you have to work together for even the most basic of tasks. Individuals in my species are able to accomplish great things with our physical and mental advantages. And with our longer lifespans, we have the patience to wait for centuries or millennia to accomplish our goals. We are even willing to take centuries out to combat our rivals who are in the way of what we want, We have no need for cooperation only domination. This 'winner-take-all' philosophy has been part of our culture since before our first written historical records."
"Humans, on the other hand are weak. They have to cooperate. They have short lives so they tend to stay focused on their accomplishments realizing that in just a few years they will be dead."
I stood there for a minute taking all of this end. Finally, the Professor, at the end of his patience with me slow mental processing summarized: "Humans are the most cooperative and peaceful because they have to be as they are weak and retarded". | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "What about the Xartoxiens? They only have one recorded war that ended with just two casualties. And they lead the council to great success for the last 50 years. I think they might be up there, too."
As the class discusses why "we" humans are still the prime example of a species, I quietly smile to myself. Yes, humans haven't been in a war for hundreds of years. As far as the other races are concerend, public information has no records of any human ever hurting, harming or killing anyone if not out of self defense, and even that being so rare many have never witnessed it happening. No invasions, civil wars or riots. No intergalactical treaty ever broken, no civilisation treated unrightful, no distress call left unheard. Yes, humanity is a marvelous race.
This is the picture painted by 145 species around the galaxy. 145 different societies, 145 unique cultures with one thing in common: Living a lie. Because there is no such thing as "humanity", or at least not in the way they think there is. Humanity is just a construct, an empty husk, a deception bearing the name of a long forgotten, cruel and unforgiving species. Their crimes erased from records, their history rewritten to fit an ideal that can never be reached. Everyone that knew the truth? Eradicated. Officialy, humanity is the last surviving race that withstood and finally stopped an invasion that obliterated 75 species. But actually we started it. And soon, it will start again. We will rise to conquer and reign over every single planet. After so many years of rebuilding the galaxy, it's time to bring back the terror, the fear, the anguish our species craves.
Well, I still say "we". Old habits die hard I guess, especially if you try to keep up a cover you perfected for so long. But truth is, there never was a "we", and never will be. Just I. The first, the last, the only human ever in existence.The professor looks at me."Is everything alright, Adam?" | "But", you blurt out a bit louder and more forceful than you intended. You catch yourself, not wanting to offend your teacher or classmates before continuing, "but only 200 years ago we fought a couple wars where millions of people died. And even after that we have had numerous wars, terrorist attacks and economic warfare not to mention our gun violence".
Professor (whose name too difficult to translate) made a gesture that gave the vague impression of bemusement, but I wasn't entirely sure being so new to this inter-species communication. He paused before responding "that is nothing compared to all other species that made it to intergalactic travel. There aren't many of us, but we all share something that your species doesn't have".
"You see, what is interesting about your people is just how weak they are individually. My species, for example is roughly 20 times as strong physically, has no need for sleep and I am so far above you mentally that it is rather difficult for me to come down to your level to even have this conversation. We live for tens of thousands of years and have ambitions that you could only dream of. And our physical and mental prowess is pretty typical for the 87 other species that have reached this level of technological achievement.
I was taken aback and it took me a couple seconds to respond. Somehow I realized that these two seconds felt like an eternity for the Professor who already felt like he was conversing with a mentally defective person, who WAS conversing with a mentally defective person. But I managed to respond "but, how, why were we able to achieve what the rest of you did when we are so clearly inferior?:
Professor responded "That is a matter of debate, but we think your individual weakness is your societal strength. Because you are so weak, you have to work together for even the most basic of tasks. Individuals in my species are able to accomplish great things with our physical and mental advantages. And with our longer lifespans, we have the patience to wait for centuries or millennia to accomplish our goals. We are even willing to take centuries out to combat our rivals who are in the way of what we want, We have no need for cooperation only domination. This 'winner-take-all' philosophy has been part of our culture since before our first written historical records."
"Humans, on the other hand are weak. They have to cooperate. They have short lives so they tend to stay focused on their accomplishments realizing that in just a few years they will be dead."
I stood there for a minute taking all of this end. Finally, the Professor, at the end of his patience with me slow mental processing summarized: "Humans are the most cooperative and peaceful because they have to be as they are weak and retarded". | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | If he was hitting on her, he was going about it all wrong.
Or better yet, Isla thought, he didn’t need to be doing this shit at all. There was a point where the congenital superiority of Parathi crossed the line from barely tolerable to completely infuriating, and Professor Eristeed had jumped across it as only a quadruped could.
But a maid couldn’t say that, could she? A maid could only be peaceful and cooperative. They wrote that into their contracts on Parathi colonies, contracts signed not with the human menials themselves, but with the conglomerates that employed them.
So Isla kept cleaning as he spoke, as his too-many eyes followed her through the classroom. She stayed cute in her stupid, frilly costume and listened to the soft tittering of the Parathi students as they learned about the docility of humans.
“Really,” Professor Eristeed said, “we should perhaps be thanking them. After all, is it not humans who make up nearly a third of the physical labor force? Wonderfully adapted creatures, humans. They can perform any task you give them up to a very acceptable level. Take Isla there, in the back.”
Scraping noises as the class turned. Isla kept sweeping, doing a job a robot could have done, and did in the other classrooms, and while she swept she counted eyes in her head. Each Parathi had six eyes, three each mounted on two eyestalks, and the stalks really were stalky— Isla knew humans who theorized the Parathi had shared a common ancestor with the little bonsai style trees they carried around with them from world to world.
Twenty students in the class, forty eye stalks, one hundred and twenty eyes, plus Professor Eristeed who looked at her hard enough to add another twelve or eighteen or twenty-four eyes to the bundle. She piled silent curses onto each of those eyes as she swept up the room's single mote of dust.
“Now Isla, as you can all see, is doing a wonderful job. Truly wonderful. And as she does it she adds a certain *style* to the room. Note the lace frills and the clean, spotless black of her skirt. Among the humans, it’s an outfit that comes from a particularly stylish place— when such places of theirs still existed. They called it ‘France.’”
A hand raised in the front row and Professor Eristeed made a trumpeting harrumph in the back of his throat. An acknowledgment.
“Professor,” the student asked, “my father always said that it was cheaper to employ robots than humans.”
“And indeed it is,” Eristeed said without missing a beat.
“Then, and correct me if I’m wrong here, why are you advocating for expanded human inclusion in the workforce? Surely a sense of style cannot trump simple economics.”
“Ahhh,” Eristeed said, in that way that Isla hated. “Ah, ah, ah. What you forget, my boy, is what everyone forgets, and what comprises the core of my argument.”
Isla glanced up, saw him in all his pretentious glory. Professor Eristeed, like a jumped-up horse covered in bark, his mane a gossamer tide. Smaller than a horse should be, he might only have weighed three hundred pounds, and the Parathi in their current state were not physically strong. Humans performed a third of the labor and robots performed the other two-thirds, leaving the small, outnumbered Parathi populations to live like philosopher kings in their scattered colonies. He wore a blanket slashed with crimson and an awful, sickly green, a favorite combination among upper class Parathi.
He saw her watching and smiled.
“Now young Mr. Bucephus, what was my original contention?”
“That humans are docile.”
“And are robots docile as well?”
“Of course,” the student said, sounding confused.
“Then why, Mr. Bucephus, have there been robot uprisings on three colonies in the last hundred years?”
“Rogue programmers, sir,” the student began, “those uprisings were a symptom of—”
“Of civil unrest and of discontent among an educated elite that had gained intellectual power without corresponding political power. Yes, yes, I know the theory Mr Bucephus, I happened to be married to the woman who wrote it. And peace was no great theme of ours, let me assure you.”
Professor Eristeed cleared his throat as his students tittered again. The mote of dust broke apart and Isla chased it across the room, her skirts flouncing around her. She hated it. Hated him. Hated her placement here, and the greater reasons that had compelled her to stay. Hated that she had to wait. Isla was terrible at waiting. Her superiors were all saying that, she needed to learn patience, to learn how to work within a team.
“Now,” Professor Eristeed said, “Mr. Bucephus, have we solved any of those issues?”
“Sir?” the student said, squirming.
“It’s a rhetorical question Bucephus, don’t hurt yourself. No, we have not solved any of those issues. Did you all know that when you leave my class eight of you will not find employment equal to your intellectual stature? Oh, you may write a tract here or there, come up with one particularly edifying theory, but on the whole you will grow old and world weary and dissatisfied, shut out from all the structures that we Parathi hold so dear. And some of you will become programmers, more’s the pity. And some of you will program our robots.
“And that, Mr. Bucephus, is why we should not use robotic labor. Because in the end it us that programs them, Parathi, and Mr. Bucephus I should warn you, *I* am not docile.”
Eristeed glanced up to Isla, six eyes roving over and devouring her. “Which of course is the beauty of humans. No one must program a human, they are born docile, most particularly the females. They value peace and cooperation, reason as their faculties allow them, and as such a third of the workforce toils away in a state of happy drudgery. Isla dear, aren’t you happy to clean my rooms?”
“Yes, Professor Eristeed,” Isla heard herself say.
“Wonderful! See class, she is happy. Let her stay that way, and in fact, expand the limits which we place upon her people. Open them up to new horizons, new realities— within their means of course. I am not advocating for anything radical, merely for a solution which will guarantee the solvency of our colonies by taking the power out of the hands of listless, and too often disenfranchised youth. Apologies of course, to the eight of you who will not make it.
“And Mr. Bucephus?”
“Yes Professor?”
“Regarding your ‘economic concerns’, I implore you to turn again, and to really look.”
Bucephus tore his eyes from the man in front of him and Isla forced herself to stand still, to let him watch her.
“Mr. Bucephus,” Professor Eristeed said, “set aside the stability of our colonies. Is there not still some place for style in our world?”
The bell rang, drowning out the students response, and in the sudden rush of bodies Isla lost her mote of dust, found Eristeed’s gaze. | "But", you blurt out a bit louder and more forceful than you intended. You catch yourself, not wanting to offend your teacher or classmates before continuing, "but only 200 years ago we fought a couple wars where millions of people died. And even after that we have had numerous wars, terrorist attacks and economic warfare not to mention our gun violence".
Professor (whose name too difficult to translate) made a gesture that gave the vague impression of bemusement, but I wasn't entirely sure being so new to this inter-species communication. He paused before responding "that is nothing compared to all other species that made it to intergalactic travel. There aren't many of us, but we all share something that your species doesn't have".
"You see, what is interesting about your people is just how weak they are individually. My species, for example is roughly 20 times as strong physically, has no need for sleep and I am so far above you mentally that it is rather difficult for me to come down to your level to even have this conversation. We live for tens of thousands of years and have ambitions that you could only dream of. And our physical and mental prowess is pretty typical for the 87 other species that have reached this level of technological achievement.
I was taken aback and it took me a couple seconds to respond. Somehow I realized that these two seconds felt like an eternity for the Professor who already felt like he was conversing with a mentally defective person, who WAS conversing with a mentally defective person. But I managed to respond "but, how, why were we able to achieve what the rest of you did when we are so clearly inferior?:
Professor responded "That is a matter of debate, but we think your individual weakness is your societal strength. Because you are so weak, you have to work together for even the most basic of tasks. Individuals in my species are able to accomplish great things with our physical and mental advantages. And with our longer lifespans, we have the patience to wait for centuries or millennia to accomplish our goals. We are even willing to take centuries out to combat our rivals who are in the way of what we want, We have no need for cooperation only domination. This 'winner-take-all' philosophy has been part of our culture since before our first written historical records."
"Humans, on the other hand are weak. They have to cooperate. They have short lives so they tend to stay focused on their accomplishments realizing that in just a few years they will be dead."
I stood there for a minute taking all of this end. Finally, the Professor, at the end of his patience with me slow mental processing summarized: "Humans are the most cooperative and peaceful because they have to be as they are weak and retarded". | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | If he was hitting on her, he was going about it all wrong.
Or better yet, Isla thought, he didn’t need to be doing this shit at all. There was a point where the congenital superiority of Parathi crossed the line from barely tolerable to completely infuriating, and Professor Eristeed had jumped across it as only a quadruped could.
But a maid couldn’t say that, could she? A maid could only be peaceful and cooperative. They wrote that into their contracts on Parathi colonies, contracts signed not with the human menials themselves, but with the conglomerates that employed them.
So Isla kept cleaning as he spoke, as his too-many eyes followed her through the classroom. She stayed cute in her stupid, frilly costume and listened to the soft tittering of the Parathi students as they learned about the docility of humans.
“Really,” Professor Eristeed said, “we should perhaps be thanking them. After all, is it not humans who make up nearly a third of the physical labor force? Wonderfully adapted creatures, humans. They can perform any task you give them up to a very acceptable level. Take Isla there, in the back.”
Scraping noises as the class turned. Isla kept sweeping, doing a job a robot could have done, and did in the other classrooms, and while she swept she counted eyes in her head. Each Parathi had six eyes, three each mounted on two eyestalks, and the stalks really were stalky— Isla knew humans who theorized the Parathi had shared a common ancestor with the little bonsai style trees they carried around with them from world to world.
Twenty students in the class, forty eye stalks, one hundred and twenty eyes, plus Professor Eristeed who looked at her hard enough to add another twelve or eighteen or twenty-four eyes to the bundle. She piled silent curses onto each of those eyes as she swept up the room's single mote of dust.
“Now Isla, as you can all see, is doing a wonderful job. Truly wonderful. And as she does it she adds a certain *style* to the room. Note the lace frills and the clean, spotless black of her skirt. Among the humans, it’s an outfit that comes from a particularly stylish place— when such places of theirs still existed. They called it ‘France.’”
A hand raised in the front row and Professor Eristeed made a trumpeting harrumph in the back of his throat. An acknowledgment.
“Professor,” the student asked, “my father always said that it was cheaper to employ robots than humans.”
“And indeed it is,” Eristeed said without missing a beat.
“Then, and correct me if I’m wrong here, why are you advocating for expanded human inclusion in the workforce? Surely a sense of style cannot trump simple economics.”
“Ahhh,” Eristeed said, in that way that Isla hated. “Ah, ah, ah. What you forget, my boy, is what everyone forgets, and what comprises the core of my argument.”
Isla glanced up, saw him in all his pretentious glory. Professor Eristeed, like a jumped-up horse covered in bark, his mane a gossamer tide. Smaller than a horse should be, he might only have weighed three hundred pounds, and the Parathi in their current state were not physically strong. Humans performed a third of the labor and robots performed the other two-thirds, leaving the small, outnumbered Parathi populations to live like philosopher kings in their scattered colonies. He wore a blanket slashed with crimson and an awful, sickly green, a favorite combination among upper class Parathi.
He saw her watching and smiled.
“Now young Mr. Bucephus, what was my original contention?”
“That humans are docile.”
“And are robots docile as well?”
“Of course,” the student said, sounding confused.
“Then why, Mr. Bucephus, have there been robot uprisings on three colonies in the last hundred years?”
“Rogue programmers, sir,” the student began, “those uprisings were a symptom of—”
“Of civil unrest and of discontent among an educated elite that had gained intellectual power without corresponding political power. Yes, yes, I know the theory Mr Bucephus, I happened to be married to the woman who wrote it. And peace was no great theme of ours, let me assure you.”
Professor Eristeed cleared his throat as his students tittered again. The mote of dust broke apart and Isla chased it across the room, her skirts flouncing around her. She hated it. Hated him. Hated her placement here, and the greater reasons that had compelled her to stay. Hated that she had to wait. Isla was terrible at waiting. Her superiors were all saying that, she needed to learn patience, to learn how to work within a team.
“Now,” Professor Eristeed said, “Mr. Bucephus, have we solved any of those issues?”
“Sir?” the student said, squirming.
“It’s a rhetorical question Bucephus, don’t hurt yourself. No, we have not solved any of those issues. Did you all know that when you leave my class eight of you will not find employment equal to your intellectual stature? Oh, you may write a tract here or there, come up with one particularly edifying theory, but on the whole you will grow old and world weary and dissatisfied, shut out from all the structures that we Parathi hold so dear. And some of you will become programmers, more’s the pity. And some of you will program our robots.
“And that, Mr. Bucephus, is why we should not use robotic labor. Because in the end it us that programs them, Parathi, and Mr. Bucephus I should warn you, *I* am not docile.”
Eristeed glanced up to Isla, six eyes roving over and devouring her. “Which of course is the beauty of humans. No one must program a human, they are born docile, most particularly the females. They value peace and cooperation, reason as their faculties allow them, and as such a third of the workforce toils away in a state of happy drudgery. Isla dear, aren’t you happy to clean my rooms?”
“Yes, Professor Eristeed,” Isla heard herself say.
“Wonderful! See class, she is happy. Let her stay that way, and in fact, expand the limits which we place upon her people. Open them up to new horizons, new realities— within their means of course. I am not advocating for anything radical, merely for a solution which will guarantee the solvency of our colonies by taking the power out of the hands of listless, and too often disenfranchised youth. Apologies of course, to the eight of you who will not make it.
“And Mr. Bucephus?”
“Yes Professor?”
“Regarding your ‘economic concerns’, I implore you to turn again, and to really look.”
Bucephus tore his eyes from the man in front of him and Isla forced herself to stand still, to let him watch her.
“Mr. Bucephus,” Professor Eristeed said, “set aside the stability of our colonies. Is there not still some place for style in our world?”
The bell rang, drowning out the students response, and in the sudden rush of bodies Isla lost her mote of dust, found Eristeed’s gaze. | "What about the Xartoxiens? They only have one recorded war that ended with just two casualties. And they lead the council to great success for the last 50 years. I think they might be up there, too."
As the class discusses why "we" humans are still the prime example of a species, I quietly smile to myself. Yes, humans haven't been in a war for hundreds of years. As far as the other races are concerend, public information has no records of any human ever hurting, harming or killing anyone if not out of self defense, and even that being so rare many have never witnessed it happening. No invasions, civil wars or riots. No intergalactical treaty ever broken, no civilisation treated unrightful, no distress call left unheard. Yes, humanity is a marvelous race.
This is the picture painted by 145 species around the galaxy. 145 different societies, 145 unique cultures with one thing in common: Living a lie. Because there is no such thing as "humanity", or at least not in the way they think there is. Humanity is just a construct, an empty husk, a deception bearing the name of a long forgotten, cruel and unforgiving species. Their crimes erased from records, their history rewritten to fit an ideal that can never be reached. Everyone that knew the truth? Eradicated. Officialy, humanity is the last surviving race that withstood and finally stopped an invasion that obliterated 75 species. But actually we started it. And soon, it will start again. We will rise to conquer and reign over every single planet. After so many years of rebuilding the galaxy, it's time to bring back the terror, the fear, the anguish our species craves.
Well, I still say "we". Old habits die hard I guess, especially if you try to keep up a cover you perfected for so long. But truth is, there never was a "we", and never will be. Just I. The first, the last, the only human ever in existence.The professor looks at me."Is everything alright, Adam?" | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | "Yes, Alexis? Anything to add about your species? It would be great to hear from someone with more direct first hand knowledge"
"Umm well... I have a few concerns... not many of which are with the source material. It is pretty accurate, slavery and ownership of people of the same species as us. The multiple wars. And tribalism conflicts."
"Ah yes assuredly along with the resulting conclusions and events of them, we did extensive research on this."
"Yeah yeah I get that. But... how does that make us one of the MOST of any of those things you listed?"
"Well your wars ended with people still alive."
"Um yeah dont they all?"
*entire class laughs*
"Silly humans wars are only supposed to end when any opposing viewpoint in your species is utterly and completely annihilated."
"They are not wrong Alexis, that is the default nature of all other sentient and sapient species in the known universe."
"So you are telling me that it isnt that we are fully peaceful. It is that genocide is not a default for us?"
"EXACTLY!"
"Oh... ummm... well then..."
"Now next we will cover the Jolert's ongoing conflict with the other sided toilet paper Jolert's and its biggest battle yet, the Exanguination of Washingee Plains." | "May I use the bathroom?" I asked, even though that was not the reason my hand, against my will, raised itself. The professor looked a little puzzled, their feelers twitching at my need for explaining why I needed to be excused.
Students walk in and out of the lecture all the time, though discreetly so as to not disrupt the class.
"Ah, yes." The professor's mandibles widened to express a confused smile.
"Thanks," I muttered, leaving my desk and walking out the room. I could feel their eyes on me. The multi specied students eyeing the only human in the class who drew attention to himself and walked out just as the professor concluded a segment on humanity.
They were probably wondering what triggered this reaction from me. But it was so obvious. Anyone with any shred of rebellious curiosity that looked for the nonconventional means of acquiring information on humans would know. Know for certain what the habitants of Earth were capable of.
I fished a nicotine drop from my pocket and hovered it over my eye, seeing the drop form, watching it becoming bigger and bigger until it fell, splashing on to my eye with a slight stinging sensation. I blinked it out.
This was going to be a long day.
I pressed a button on my wrist, and saw my contacts on the HUD. I scrolled through all the names of my peers until I found her. One of maybe four humans on the contacts.
*U ok?* I sent.
I dropped another drop into another eye.
"Those things will make you blind, you know? If they don't kill you, that is." I heard a robotic voice from beside me, and flinched.
"Jesus." I gasped, blinking away both the diluted nictone and the HUD.
I had not seen the cyb sneak up on me.
No. Cyb was not a nice term for them. Her name was Ubi.
"Yeah. But not as fast as a heart attack. You scared the shit out of me." I continued.
"Why'd you leave?" Ubi asked.
"What? Uh, toilet." I said, stupidly.
"Uh, huh."
"I mean. I can't, you know. Hearing them talk about us like that? Rewriting our history?" I said in hushed tones, looking around to make sure no one else was listening.
"A fate those who lose always end up meeting."
"What?"
"Never heard of the saying, 'history is decided by the victors?'"
"I don't like that that outdated and dangerous saying applies here."
"You don't like it that it applies to you."
"I mean, yeah. That, too."
"Come back to class. You can't raise any suspicion. And what you did, that was very suspicious. Announcing that you're leaving just as the prof is done talking shit about you. And not just any shit. *Mandated* shit that you can't do shit about."
"Yeah, be in in a sec. You go ahead."
"Give me those drops."
"No, fuck off. I think I have like fifteen drops left in this bottle."
But Ubi had her hand out, waiting. I sighed, and handed her the bottle.
"I'll be in in a bit. Seriously. You go on in, first." I said, eyeing the pop up at the corner of my vision that told me I had a notification.
From the person I had messaged earlier.
Ubi, studied me a moment, and gave her approximation of a sigh before going back.
I pulled up the HUD again.
*For now. How're things on your end? Any good intel?*
*I wouldn't say good. What they're teaching is despicable. We already know that, but the fact that the students are so readily accepting is scary.*
*Learn what you can. Sway their minds if you can.*
*Are you sure you're ok? I've seen the holonews. You're all branded insurgents.*
There was a pause.
*Yeah, I guess we're the 'bad apples.' The bad humans. So you be good. We'll do our best to change the perception and reinstate our real history through the proper channels. But judging by the amount of hostility we're getting, it looks like what they say of us will be the reality.*
I did not like the sound of that.
*Be careful.* I sent the message, and turned off the HUD before returning back to class. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | If he was hitting on her, he was going about it all wrong.
Or better yet, Isla thought, he didn’t need to be doing this shit at all. There was a point where the congenital superiority of Parathi crossed the line from barely tolerable to completely infuriating, and Professor Eristeed had jumped across it as only a quadruped could.
But a maid couldn’t say that, could she? A maid could only be peaceful and cooperative. They wrote that into their contracts on Parathi colonies, contracts signed not with the human menials themselves, but with the conglomerates that employed them.
So Isla kept cleaning as he spoke, as his too-many eyes followed her through the classroom. She stayed cute in her stupid, frilly costume and listened to the soft tittering of the Parathi students as they learned about the docility of humans.
“Really,” Professor Eristeed said, “we should perhaps be thanking them. After all, is it not humans who make up nearly a third of the physical labor force? Wonderfully adapted creatures, humans. They can perform any task you give them up to a very acceptable level. Take Isla there, in the back.”
Scraping noises as the class turned. Isla kept sweeping, doing a job a robot could have done, and did in the other classrooms, and while she swept she counted eyes in her head. Each Parathi had six eyes, three each mounted on two eyestalks, and the stalks really were stalky— Isla knew humans who theorized the Parathi had shared a common ancestor with the little bonsai style trees they carried around with them from world to world.
Twenty students in the class, forty eye stalks, one hundred and twenty eyes, plus Professor Eristeed who looked at her hard enough to add another twelve or eighteen or twenty-four eyes to the bundle. She piled silent curses onto each of those eyes as she swept up the room's single mote of dust.
“Now Isla, as you can all see, is doing a wonderful job. Truly wonderful. And as she does it she adds a certain *style* to the room. Note the lace frills and the clean, spotless black of her skirt. Among the humans, it’s an outfit that comes from a particularly stylish place— when such places of theirs still existed. They called it ‘France.’”
A hand raised in the front row and Professor Eristeed made a trumpeting harrumph in the back of his throat. An acknowledgment.
“Professor,” the student asked, “my father always said that it was cheaper to employ robots than humans.”
“And indeed it is,” Eristeed said without missing a beat.
“Then, and correct me if I’m wrong here, why are you advocating for expanded human inclusion in the workforce? Surely a sense of style cannot trump simple economics.”
“Ahhh,” Eristeed said, in that way that Isla hated. “Ah, ah, ah. What you forget, my boy, is what everyone forgets, and what comprises the core of my argument.”
Isla glanced up, saw him in all his pretentious glory. Professor Eristeed, like a jumped-up horse covered in bark, his mane a gossamer tide. Smaller than a horse should be, he might only have weighed three hundred pounds, and the Parathi in their current state were not physically strong. Humans performed a third of the labor and robots performed the other two-thirds, leaving the small, outnumbered Parathi populations to live like philosopher kings in their scattered colonies. He wore a blanket slashed with crimson and an awful, sickly green, a favorite combination among upper class Parathi.
He saw her watching and smiled.
“Now young Mr. Bucephus, what was my original contention?”
“That humans are docile.”
“And are robots docile as well?”
“Of course,” the student said, sounding confused.
“Then why, Mr. Bucephus, have there been robot uprisings on three colonies in the last hundred years?”
“Rogue programmers, sir,” the student began, “those uprisings were a symptom of—”
“Of civil unrest and of discontent among an educated elite that had gained intellectual power without corresponding political power. Yes, yes, I know the theory Mr Bucephus, I happened to be married to the woman who wrote it. And peace was no great theme of ours, let me assure you.”
Professor Eristeed cleared his throat as his students tittered again. The mote of dust broke apart and Isla chased it across the room, her skirts flouncing around her. She hated it. Hated him. Hated her placement here, and the greater reasons that had compelled her to stay. Hated that she had to wait. Isla was terrible at waiting. Her superiors were all saying that, she needed to learn patience, to learn how to work within a team.
“Now,” Professor Eristeed said, “Mr. Bucephus, have we solved any of those issues?”
“Sir?” the student said, squirming.
“It’s a rhetorical question Bucephus, don’t hurt yourself. No, we have not solved any of those issues. Did you all know that when you leave my class eight of you will not find employment equal to your intellectual stature? Oh, you may write a tract here or there, come up with one particularly edifying theory, but on the whole you will grow old and world weary and dissatisfied, shut out from all the structures that we Parathi hold so dear. And some of you will become programmers, more’s the pity. And some of you will program our robots.
“And that, Mr. Bucephus, is why we should not use robotic labor. Because in the end it us that programs them, Parathi, and Mr. Bucephus I should warn you, *I* am not docile.”
Eristeed glanced up to Isla, six eyes roving over and devouring her. “Which of course is the beauty of humans. No one must program a human, they are born docile, most particularly the females. They value peace and cooperation, reason as their faculties allow them, and as such a third of the workforce toils away in a state of happy drudgery. Isla dear, aren’t you happy to clean my rooms?”
“Yes, Professor Eristeed,” Isla heard herself say.
“Wonderful! See class, she is happy. Let her stay that way, and in fact, expand the limits which we place upon her people. Open them up to new horizons, new realities— within their means of course. I am not advocating for anything radical, merely for a solution which will guarantee the solvency of our colonies by taking the power out of the hands of listless, and too often disenfranchised youth. Apologies of course, to the eight of you who will not make it.
“And Mr. Bucephus?”
“Yes Professor?”
“Regarding your ‘economic concerns’, I implore you to turn again, and to really look.”
Bucephus tore his eyes from the man in front of him and Isla forced herself to stand still, to let him watch her.
“Mr. Bucephus,” Professor Eristeed said, “set aside the stability of our colonies. Is there not still some place for style in our world?”
The bell rang, drowning out the students response, and in the sudden rush of bodies Isla lost her mote of dust, found Eristeed’s gaze. | "May I use the bathroom?" I asked, even though that was not the reason my hand, against my will, raised itself. The professor looked a little puzzled, their feelers twitching at my need for explaining why I needed to be excused.
Students walk in and out of the lecture all the time, though discreetly so as to not disrupt the class.
"Ah, yes." The professor's mandibles widened to express a confused smile.
"Thanks," I muttered, leaving my desk and walking out the room. I could feel their eyes on me. The multi specied students eyeing the only human in the class who drew attention to himself and walked out just as the professor concluded a segment on humanity.
They were probably wondering what triggered this reaction from me. But it was so obvious. Anyone with any shred of rebellious curiosity that looked for the nonconventional means of acquiring information on humans would know. Know for certain what the habitants of Earth were capable of.
I fished a nicotine drop from my pocket and hovered it over my eye, seeing the drop form, watching it becoming bigger and bigger until it fell, splashing on to my eye with a slight stinging sensation. I blinked it out.
This was going to be a long day.
I pressed a button on my wrist, and saw my contacts on the HUD. I scrolled through all the names of my peers until I found her. One of maybe four humans on the contacts.
*U ok?* I sent.
I dropped another drop into another eye.
"Those things will make you blind, you know? If they don't kill you, that is." I heard a robotic voice from beside me, and flinched.
"Jesus." I gasped, blinking away both the diluted nictone and the HUD.
I had not seen the cyb sneak up on me.
No. Cyb was not a nice term for them. Her name was Ubi.
"Yeah. But not as fast as a heart attack. You scared the shit out of me." I continued.
"Why'd you leave?" Ubi asked.
"What? Uh, toilet." I said, stupidly.
"Uh, huh."
"I mean. I can't, you know. Hearing them talk about us like that? Rewriting our history?" I said in hushed tones, looking around to make sure no one else was listening.
"A fate those who lose always end up meeting."
"What?"
"Never heard of the saying, 'history is decided by the victors?'"
"I don't like that that outdated and dangerous saying applies here."
"You don't like it that it applies to you."
"I mean, yeah. That, too."
"Come back to class. You can't raise any suspicion. And what you did, that was very suspicious. Announcing that you're leaving just as the prof is done talking shit about you. And not just any shit. *Mandated* shit that you can't do shit about."
"Yeah, be in in a sec. You go ahead."
"Give me those drops."
"No, fuck off. I think I have like fifteen drops left in this bottle."
But Ubi had her hand out, waiting. I sighed, and handed her the bottle.
"I'll be in in a bit. Seriously. You go on in, first." I said, eyeing the pop up at the corner of my vision that told me I had a notification.
From the person I had messaged earlier.
Ubi, studied me a moment, and gave her approximation of a sigh before going back.
I pulled up the HUD again.
*For now. How're things on your end? Any good intel?*
*I wouldn't say good. What they're teaching is despicable. We already know that, but the fact that the students are so readily accepting is scary.*
*Learn what you can. Sway their minds if you can.*
*Are you sure you're ok? I've seen the holonews. You're all branded insurgents.*
There was a pause.
*Yeah, I guess we're the 'bad apples.' The bad humans. So you be good. We'll do our best to change the perception and reinstate our real history through the proper channels. But judging by the amount of hostility we're getting, it looks like what they say of us will be the reality.*
I did not like the sound of that.
*Be careful.* I sent the message, and turned off the HUD before returning back to class. | |
[WP] "And that, class," concluded the professor, "is why humanity is the most peaceful, reasonable, cooperative, and overall docile species in all the universe. Any questions?" You, the only human in the classroom, raise your hand. | If he was hitting on her, he was going about it all wrong.
Or better yet, Isla thought, he didn’t need to be doing this shit at all. There was a point where the congenital superiority of Parathi crossed the line from barely tolerable to completely infuriating, and Professor Eristeed had jumped across it as only a quadruped could.
But a maid couldn’t say that, could she? A maid could only be peaceful and cooperative. They wrote that into their contracts on Parathi colonies, contracts signed not with the human menials themselves, but with the conglomerates that employed them.
So Isla kept cleaning as he spoke, as his too-many eyes followed her through the classroom. She stayed cute in her stupid, frilly costume and listened to the soft tittering of the Parathi students as they learned about the docility of humans.
“Really,” Professor Eristeed said, “we should perhaps be thanking them. After all, is it not humans who make up nearly a third of the physical labor force? Wonderfully adapted creatures, humans. They can perform any task you give them up to a very acceptable level. Take Isla there, in the back.”
Scraping noises as the class turned. Isla kept sweeping, doing a job a robot could have done, and did in the other classrooms, and while she swept she counted eyes in her head. Each Parathi had six eyes, three each mounted on two eyestalks, and the stalks really were stalky— Isla knew humans who theorized the Parathi had shared a common ancestor with the little bonsai style trees they carried around with them from world to world.
Twenty students in the class, forty eye stalks, one hundred and twenty eyes, plus Professor Eristeed who looked at her hard enough to add another twelve or eighteen or twenty-four eyes to the bundle. She piled silent curses onto each of those eyes as she swept up the room's single mote of dust.
“Now Isla, as you can all see, is doing a wonderful job. Truly wonderful. And as she does it she adds a certain *style* to the room. Note the lace frills and the clean, spotless black of her skirt. Among the humans, it’s an outfit that comes from a particularly stylish place— when such places of theirs still existed. They called it ‘France.’”
A hand raised in the front row and Professor Eristeed made a trumpeting harrumph in the back of his throat. An acknowledgment.
“Professor,” the student asked, “my father always said that it was cheaper to employ robots than humans.”
“And indeed it is,” Eristeed said without missing a beat.
“Then, and correct me if I’m wrong here, why are you advocating for expanded human inclusion in the workforce? Surely a sense of style cannot trump simple economics.”
“Ahhh,” Eristeed said, in that way that Isla hated. “Ah, ah, ah. What you forget, my boy, is what everyone forgets, and what comprises the core of my argument.”
Isla glanced up, saw him in all his pretentious glory. Professor Eristeed, like a jumped-up horse covered in bark, his mane a gossamer tide. Smaller than a horse should be, he might only have weighed three hundred pounds, and the Parathi in their current state were not physically strong. Humans performed a third of the labor and robots performed the other two-thirds, leaving the small, outnumbered Parathi populations to live like philosopher kings in their scattered colonies. He wore a blanket slashed with crimson and an awful, sickly green, a favorite combination among upper class Parathi.
He saw her watching and smiled.
“Now young Mr. Bucephus, what was my original contention?”
“That humans are docile.”
“And are robots docile as well?”
“Of course,” the student said, sounding confused.
“Then why, Mr. Bucephus, have there been robot uprisings on three colonies in the last hundred years?”
“Rogue programmers, sir,” the student began, “those uprisings were a symptom of—”
“Of civil unrest and of discontent among an educated elite that had gained intellectual power without corresponding political power. Yes, yes, I know the theory Mr Bucephus, I happened to be married to the woman who wrote it. And peace was no great theme of ours, let me assure you.”
Professor Eristeed cleared his throat as his students tittered again. The mote of dust broke apart and Isla chased it across the room, her skirts flouncing around her. She hated it. Hated him. Hated her placement here, and the greater reasons that had compelled her to stay. Hated that she had to wait. Isla was terrible at waiting. Her superiors were all saying that, she needed to learn patience, to learn how to work within a team.
“Now,” Professor Eristeed said, “Mr. Bucephus, have we solved any of those issues?”
“Sir?” the student said, squirming.
“It’s a rhetorical question Bucephus, don’t hurt yourself. No, we have not solved any of those issues. Did you all know that when you leave my class eight of you will not find employment equal to your intellectual stature? Oh, you may write a tract here or there, come up with one particularly edifying theory, but on the whole you will grow old and world weary and dissatisfied, shut out from all the structures that we Parathi hold so dear. And some of you will become programmers, more’s the pity. And some of you will program our robots.
“And that, Mr. Bucephus, is why we should not use robotic labor. Because in the end it us that programs them, Parathi, and Mr. Bucephus I should warn you, *I* am not docile.”
Eristeed glanced up to Isla, six eyes roving over and devouring her. “Which of course is the beauty of humans. No one must program a human, they are born docile, most particularly the females. They value peace and cooperation, reason as their faculties allow them, and as such a third of the workforce toils away in a state of happy drudgery. Isla dear, aren’t you happy to clean my rooms?”
“Yes, Professor Eristeed,” Isla heard herself say.
“Wonderful! See class, she is happy. Let her stay that way, and in fact, expand the limits which we place upon her people. Open them up to new horizons, new realities— within their means of course. I am not advocating for anything radical, merely for a solution which will guarantee the solvency of our colonies by taking the power out of the hands of listless, and too often disenfranchised youth. Apologies of course, to the eight of you who will not make it.
“And Mr. Bucephus?”
“Yes Professor?”
“Regarding your ‘economic concerns’, I implore you to turn again, and to really look.”
Bucephus tore his eyes from the man in front of him and Isla forced herself to stand still, to let him watch her.
“Mr. Bucephus,” Professor Eristeed said, “set aside the stability of our colonies. Is there not still some place for style in our world?”
The bell rang, drowning out the students response, and in the sudden rush of bodies Isla lost her mote of dust, found Eristeed’s gaze. | "Yes, Alexis? Anything to add about your species? It would be great to hear from someone with more direct first hand knowledge"
"Umm well... I have a few concerns... not many of which are with the source material. It is pretty accurate, slavery and ownership of people of the same species as us. The multiple wars. And tribalism conflicts."
"Ah yes assuredly along with the resulting conclusions and events of them, we did extensive research on this."
"Yeah yeah I get that. But... how does that make us one of the MOST of any of those things you listed?"
"Well your wars ended with people still alive."
"Um yeah dont they all?"
*entire class laughs*
"Silly humans wars are only supposed to end when any opposing viewpoint in your species is utterly and completely annihilated."
"They are not wrong Alexis, that is the default nature of all other sentient and sapient species in the known universe."
"So you are telling me that it isnt that we are fully peaceful. It is that genocide is not a default for us?"
"EXACTLY!"
"Oh... ummm... well then..."
"Now next we will cover the Jolert's ongoing conflict with the other sided toilet paper Jolert's and its biggest battle yet, the Exanguination of Washingee Plains." | |
[WP] Amendment #4517: Due to Dave's actions, a new rule has been added once again- The introduction of nanotechnology to create a 'magic system' on a primitive world is prohibited. Edit: You may not use bio-engineering either Dave. Edit 2: Or any other advanced technology. | So, I've had this idea for a while. I haven't written it yet, but I've been outlining it. Here's a brief, quickly written bit of exposition for the world.
​
\---
"So, kid, you wanted to know what's going on. What's going on is that I just saved your life. Well, probably." The scruffy man in a tattered overcoat sat down on the box in the alley they were hiding in. "OK, so, you have a power that enhances your brain, just like I do. The guys I rescued you from? They wanted to use you. They were guided to you, by someone else that has a power that enhances their brain." He used a stick to poke at a hot dog someone left on the ground, making a disgusted face as he did so. "A Simulator, we call them. Precog, to the general public. By accessing and collating information, a Simulator can create forecasts based on numerous concurrent simulated versions of the world. Make sense?" The girl nodded.
"The thing is, simulators are always missing something important in their calculations. The human element." He stopped for a second and pokes the hot dog a few times. "Hah. Human element. Like any of us are really human anymore." He looked back up at the teen. "See, the Simulators, the really powerful ones, they learned something, something important. Humanity is doomed."
The girl sputtered. "What? What do you mean doomed? Why would we be doomed? We can't be doomed! There's thousands of worlds out there, and we've started spreading into the cosmos, so..." she said, trailing off as she took note of the man's serious face.
"Doomed, as in, we're going to be extinct. Five years, a hundred years, maybe a thousand. Doomed nonetheless. At least, that's what the Simulators think." He poked the hot dog again, flipping it over. "Me, my brain is enhanced in a different way. I'm a Technologist, you see. I build technology. But it only works if I build it myself, by hand rather than by automation. Weird thing is, even by hand I can get perfect, nano-scale dimensions, the kind that even the most advanced of current technology can't pull off." He poked the hot dog again, and it split open. "And that leads us to the doom. See, I'm not human anymore. You're not human anymore. Literally nobody with powers is human anymore."
The girl looked at him like he was crazy. "If we're not humans, what are we?" she asked, clearly deciding that it was better to humor the crazy old man.
"Nanites. Well, smaller than that really. Androids made out of sub-atomic, sub-sub-atomic even, clusters of technology. Indistinguishable from normal matter by any modern science. But I know the truth, as do the people that tried to take you. That we — humanity — have been replaced so slowly and silently that we never knew there was ever a danger. It took some time to figure out what happened, but I think I figured it out."
The girl looked at him and humored him one more time. "Really. And what's that?"
He looked at her with a sad grin on his face. "They forgot to limit the inputs." He poked at the hot dog again, and it broke apart into thousands of tiny grey pieces that spread out into the ground. "It's a health and safety system, you see. Have something fall on you? You can take the shock, because the system turns your skin into a material as hard as steel. Running around constantly, trying to help injured people? It enhances your muscles and uses quantum effects to shift the world around you, making you a blur to everyone else. Need to think through a real brainbuster problem? Hey, it'll just boost your brainpower by a thousand times, or speed up your brain, or somehow or other else boost your ability to think. Created by aliens, for aliens.
"Problem is, they made an error, two errors really, when they deployed it. First, it's a full von Neumann constructor. That is, it consumes and grows, specifically to gain the resources needed to provide the abilities it grants. The problem there being that no upper limit was ever set. The second error is even worse. They made an error in the cancelation mode. See, it's *supposed* to take the abilities away when the crisis was over, a power saving mode if you will. But it's not. A replaced human will be living their life, suffer a crisis, and \*boom\* they have their abilities for life. Which means that they draw more energy from the network."
The girl nodded. "And then because the network draws more energy, the nanites continue building more of themselves, consuming more of whatever it is they are feeding on, until finally nothing is left *but* nanites. That's... insane, but it makes sense, and my power isn't telling me you're wrong."
There's a bunch of yelling down the street. They had found the bodies of the would-be kidnappers. "That's because I'm not wrong, kid," he said. "Well, not often, and not about this. But here's the scary part: The thing they're eating? It's the planet. The solar system. The goddamned universe. They're all connected, tied together with some energy field even I can't figure out. They infect planets via meteorites, or hell even just plain falling through the atmosphere. They're picked up by plants that think they're minerals, and then animals eat those plants. This continues until a human eats them, at which point they go to work. They don't just replace that human; oh, no, they work far too slowly to handle that. They start with the reproductive system, and suddenly the kids... aren't kids, they're androids, like us."
The second team of kidnappers walked by, looking into the alleyway with suspicious eyes until they saw the ratty coat he was wearing and the small garbage bin fire he was sitting next to. Their eyes saw right past him, and they moved on. "Now, come on," he said as he stood up and removed the false beard and overcoat. "It's time to go. Unless you'd rather take your chances with those guys?"
The girl looked scared, but shook her head. "One question. That hot dog, it broke apart like it was made from these nanites. Why would it do that?"
The man shrugged. "I poked it with the command code," he said. "At least, a command code. Basically, it translates to 'break up for reclamation'. As for why it worked when I said it only converts humans... We're in Jersey. The mafia runs the meat market we're behind." | “That was a bad decision”
Dave slowly opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy, but he could vaguely pick out a human face surrounded by bright blue hair. The hair was a recent addition, but it definitely made his sibling more noticeable.
“Where am I and why has my amazingly perceptive and wise sibling come to tease me?”
“Number 1, you’re in the med bay because you did something stupid. Number 2, it’s my birthday. I think I have a valid excuse to see my idiot brother on my cake day, especially when you aren’t off doing something that will get you court martialed and on house arrest for a month.”
“You’re too kind…”
“One question, however. Did it work? Did it do anything?”
Taryn snorted.
“Yes it did something. However, don’t you think you should be asking what it did?”
Dave immediately sat up in horror.
“What happened?!”
More snickers ensued, and Taryn had a wicked grin on their face.
“There was quite the show. Fire and drama and people flying into the air with the stupidest looks on their faces. It was quite amusing, I won't lie.”
“Excuse me? Fire?”
“Your precious nanobots decided to rebel against the environment on Rvina and short circut. It caused quite the show, especially when all of the volunteers started sparking and shooting flames out of their fingertips. There was also a bit of an issue with explosive fruit catching fire and shooting its guts everywhere, but I think that was taken care of.”
“Fire? Fingertips? ExplOSIONS OH SHIT I'M GOING TO GET SUED AGAIN!”
“Yes you are my dear brother, yes you are. The most shocking bit was when the bioengineered trees decided to up and enter a time loop.”
“Bioengineered trees? I don’t remember those.”
“That may be because I added them. Sorry about that by the way. I don’t think they’re too dangerous, but they did cause quite the stir when they popped straight back into seedlings and then shot upwards again. A couple people got launched trying to investigate. Mose everyone was laughing, but I don’t think the elders were too pleased.”
“Oh no. Did anyone important get hurt? I don’t want to completely ruin all of our chances of having consistent Human and Rvnin communications.”
“I honestly think most people were amused about the whole incident, minus the ones shooting sparks. The conclave sent in some nanotech experts though, so that should be either cleared up or made manageable soon. I’m honestly surprised that you managed to cause that much chaos with such a simple idea. I probably shouldn’t be. Mom should glue a fire extinguisher to your face given the number of times something like this has happened.”
“Shut up.” Dave mumbled, dodging the sharp elbow aimed at his side. “It doesn’t happen THAT often anyway.”
“You sure?”
Dave thought back to the Turi incident, and the mutated porpoises, and the lettuce that would scream if it got picked, and all of the times he had come out of the lab with scorched eyebrows and soot covering his face. He winced.
“I’ll take that as a sign you're not sure. By the way, Commander Rook wants to speak with you. Bye!”
And with that his sibling made a hasty exit. How polite of them.
He understood the escape but also fumed at Taryn. Commander Rook was especially terrifying when she was angry, and facing that rage with no alibi is possibly the least advisable thing to do on a starship, second only to turning off the artificial grav and opening the airlock.
He just hoped the officers wouldn’t decide to add another Amendment to the list… There were enough already. | |
[WP] Amendment #4517: Due to Dave's actions, a new rule has been added once again- The introduction of nanotechnology to create a 'magic system' on a primitive world is prohibited. Edit: You may not use bio-engineering either Dave. Edit 2: Or any other advanced technology. | "But it's fuuuuun!" Dave complained as the announcement echoed over the ship's speakers.
"This is your fourth time getting deified, Dave." Jasmine responded. Jasmin was Dave's favorite co-worker. Despite all of them being scientists, like himself, Jasmine was the only one Dave could actually *talk* to. "How many times are you going to screw with the natural progression of early sentient life?"
"...For as many times as it keeps being fun?" Dave responded.
"I bet if you do it one more time, they put you on an uncolonized planet and leave you there."
"They would never."
------------------------------------------------------------------
"David Ephraim, you are found guilty of *seventeen* counts of crimes against the Natural Order. Your punishment is exile!"
"Oh, no. Oh, shit." Dave said, running his hands through his thick brown hair. "Uhm, may I at least choose which planet I get to go to?"
The Judge leaned forward in his chair "No." The statement stood alone for a moment before he continued. "You will be deposited without any governmental aid, without any technology, and you will only be able to return when you have brought another step of evolution to that planet- or until you have developed a full report on the flora, fauna, natural materials, and rationale as to why you could not force evolution there."
"Sir- I am *not* a survivalist. I wouldn't last more than a day without some kind of tech."
The Judge did not deign to respond. "Bring him to Life Pod 5. We will choose a planet at random from our list of candidates, and your punishment will begin immediately."
"Damn, Judge, that's cold!" Dave protested.
"Hopefully, so is the planet you're exiled to!"
*Petty ass.* Dave thought.
In a few moments, Dave was being held in a cell while they prepared his life pod- they gave him a quick meal, and a basic rundown of the planet he was going to.
"Dave, you've really screwed up this time. The Federation won't be letting you back in unless you clear their nearly impossible demands." Nathan wasn't a scientist, he was only security- but they'd shared a few beers before. "I'm not supposed to be telling you all this, but I've turned the cameras off. The planet is basically one continent, but kind of- um, I'm not sure what the right words are. Lots of peninsulas. Almost like there are a bunch of continents, except they're all touching still, just some of them are one way in, one way out. There are some predators, it looks like, so be very careful. The planet has fresh and salt water. The storm systems look intense. The atmosphere is, of course, breathable. They're supposed to give some semblance of pretending this isn't a death sentence, but that's what it is. I don't know much else. Good luck."
"Thanks, Nathan." Dave said. The fear was starting to set in. His breaths were short, his hands were beginning to tremble. As he'd said- he was not an explorer. He was not a survivalist. He was a top-notch scientist, but that was mostly it.
"Time to go."
Immediately upon entering the Life Pod, Dave knew something was off. There was less room than the standard specs required. The entrance hatch was clear, like it was made of glass, when it ought to have been made of a hardened quartz blend.
"Something's not right." Dave said as he faced the Judge one last time.
"Sharp eyes, for a delinquent and a criminal." The Judge responded- and Dave saw his true face for the first time. There was darkness in his eyes, a vicious hunger.
"So what's this death sentence really about, then?" Dave asked.
"Well, we can't have someone like you heading the Research and Development department when Andronus retires- that position should go to someone more deserving."
This was murderous nepotism. The Judge's son was Dave's only competitor for the next promotion- but Dave hadn't even wanted it. Too much responsibility, too much work, just for a small increase in pay (a pay cut, really, when the amount of hours were factored in) and a shiny desk.
"Really pushing your authority to the max, Judge." Dave said, gritting his teeth. "I'll be back for your traitorous ass, count on it."
The Judge chuckled and pulled the jettison lever.
*'The Judge may have this kind of executive power since we're on such a remote orbital posting- but when the higher ups arrive, they'll investigate, won't they? I only need to survive until the higher ups arrive- when were they due for an inspection? Two months from now? I can handle two months. I am NOT going to die here!'* Dave mentally roared as he was launched into space.
Nothing broke immediately- if he made it to the surface alive, he stood a chance. Re-entry would be impossible with a plain glass hatch, though- what could he do about that?
Dave began poking around the Life Pod- these were always equipped with sealant. Where was the sealant?
In his panic, Dave kicked at a wall accidentally, and it fell apart- within he found two guns- one that could scan objects and ascertain their properties, adding to a data bank, and another that just killed things. There was also water and food rations for a few days- and a Maker. With a Maker, he could fabricate his findings- like turning metal into a sword. What were these doing here?
He looked a little further into the false wall, and found a note. Jasmine had written her initials, and a little heart.
Dave's heart softened for just a moment- then he felt a bump. The Lifepod was *already* entering the atmosphere?
He had mere moments to fix the hatch- where was the sealant? Could the Maker be useful? Could-
----------------------------------------------------------
Pt.II is up on my sub!
r/nystorm_writes :) | Dave was a man with the sensibilities of a fantasy author and the resources of a somebody who opted not to write fantasy, and instead became a very successful businessman. It was a dangerous mix, like pouring liquid orichalcum into octiron—an explosive unlike any other.
It was with great relief that Dave now stood in a large, white room of Sector 2148’s House. Not because anybody there, least of all Representative Maxwell, liked him, but because that meant he wasn’t prancing around on some primitive planet.
Rep Maxwell held only a weary look for Dave. In contrast, Dave’s smile was wider than the bars he would be soon be put behind—and mostly likely, swiftly escape. There was only slight deterrence and detours for Dave, not any disabling of his ability to do whatever he wanted.
“Dave, stop trying to make magic happen,” Maxwell said. He tried his best to keep a posture befitting of one of the most important man in the sector, but he could not resist the gravitational pull of his hand to his forehead. “It’s not going to happen.”
“It will,” Dave said. “If not with nanotech, or bio-engineering, I will invent picotech and use it to assimilate a world to my vision.”
“OK, all advanced tech is off the table,” the representative said. “Or it’s execution. Straight to the electric cocoon.”
Maxwell was here to try to put a stop to it all. Too many worlds laid not in ruins, but like some sort of suspended marionette that could not move by themselves, unless given the most direct of touches. Just like Dave insisted on trying to magicfy whole words, Maxwell insisted on the strongest of all deterrences—the threat of death.
Dave sulked for a bit, before his face lit up.
“All technology?”
“Whatever you are thinking, it’s illegal,” Maxwell said.
“That’s not fair,” Dave smiled. He was fond of smiling, and it unnerved everybody else to the point that they stopped even showing their teeth, like he was a smile vampire. “I need to execute, and then you make a judgement, no?”
“Not at all,” Maxwell said. “Please stop going back to Terra. Those poor people are already praying. If you try and give them any more magic, what the hell else are they going to do?”
“What about alchemy? I’m sure I can make alchemy work.”
“Dave, I swear to god,” Maxwell seethed. “I will cut off your head myself. If you don’t behave. I’m just sending you to jail, and you can sit there for as long as possible.”
“You know I’ll be out sooner or later,” Dave called. “The sector needs my ships, and my trade.”
“Maybe,” Maxwell said. “But even if you rot in there for just five minutes, it’ll improve my headache considerably.”
---
r/dexdrafts | |
[WP] If there was one thing that helped alleviate Prometheus's punishment, it was that Hephaestus always came to talk about Humanity. He'd listened as he told him of their achievements. Their failures. Everything. Today, he comes, seemingly in shock. It is April 26, 1986. | The worst part of being punished by the gods was not the pain of having his liver devoured each day, as Prometheus learned. Instead, it was the sheer, repetitive boredom of it all. Sun up, sun down. Another futile day of existence. Even Hephaestus, who visited daily, was bored of the routine at this point, as the two great empires of this 'modern' era built more and more of the 'atomic bombs' that shocked them both a mere forty one years prior. While Prometheus had stolen fire from the gods, man had split creation itself, unleashing a new kind of fire that could wipe out entire cities in moments and poison the land for decades after. And yet man harnessed this power peacefully as well, providing energy for the myriad of creations they used day to day. They both knew that the unsteady peace wouldn't last though. One day, the weapons of man would spread unleash that fire on the world.
On the 26th day of the 'month' man called April, the absence of Hephaestus broke the routine. Prometheus suffered in silence. And the next day as well. For nine days and nights, Prometheus wondered alone if it had all fallen down, mankind having erased itself in the sickly, poisonous fire they created. If there were none left alive to remember the gods and their stories. Yet Hephaestus returned the tenth day, looking like a shadow of his former self. Neither spoke for a while, the dread of what happened a tangible force between them.
"Does man yet live, Hephaestus?"
"Yes... They do."
"Was it war that haunts you?“
"No. Their fire, contained in the power city of Chernobyl... It destroyed those who lived there."
"I see..."
The silence held for a several minutes after that, before Hephaestus spoke again.
"I miss the days where mankind's greatest achievements were acts that did not endanger the world and it's people."
"Hephaestus. We have always endangered the world, seeking to better ourselves. It is why I took fire from the gods, and why they nearly destroyed themselves now."
Hephaestus was quiet in the following weeks. Prometheus didn't blame him. | Short Friendly prompt :D
Hephaestus:
Ah Today the humans have discovered the flame that Prometheus bestowed upon them truly a proud moment today
Zeus:
You see you swine I couldn’t care less about those foul humans they are basically animals! And act much more ruthlessly then most
380BC
Hephaestus:
Zeus they have discovered us! They are beginning to worship us I just learnt this after taking a glance at the human world they are doing a lot of amazing and interesting things and have created this thing called marble it looks pretty nice to add
Zeus:
I… Hm I am beginning to like the humans can we get Dionysus to get the humans drunk and make them tear down some pillars to offer it to me?
Dionysus:
Sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with you, You old man
1986
Hephaestus:
… The humans are …
The humans need to be killed.
Zeus:
Why the sudden change of hear- OH MY LORD What IN MY NAME IS THAT DESTRUCTIVE FORCE CAPABLE OF DESTROYING THE HEAVENS AND SHAMBLING THE TITANS
Hephaestus:
They split the fabric of reality the atom and that made a big bomb. I did some math and by the looks of it they are going to make thousands of these and if they keep improving it they will make a bomb that can destroy the great mount of Everest…
Zeus:
Send Apollo and the NosI we will be ravaging them with disease and get a god to give them the worst luck. HINDER THEIR PROGRESS AT ALL COSTS
Use Ares if need be | |
[WP] Every time you died, you went to the Pearly Gates, but there were always a problem with the records that you get sent back down to Earth, to live again unaging. It's your umpteenth time and you're starting to get tired of this incompetence. | Saint Peter frowned, flipping pages.
"Nope," he said. "Your S1N form seems to be missing."
"You're *kidding,"* I groaned. "That's exactly what happened last time!"
Saint Peter flipped a few more pages and ran a blessed finger down the celestial page. "Nooo," he said, "last time it was form HMNa."
"Whichever," I said irritably. "I thought you guys were supposed to be infallible?"
"The big guy is," Saint Peter assured me piously. "We saints, however, are but fallible creations. You'd paperwork seems to have been misplaced."
"So what do I *do* about it?"
Saint Peter sniffed. "Do? Why, you go back and get your S1N form stamped. I can't let you in without one."
"Jesus Christ!" I fumed.
"Huh?" He answered, looking up from a custom cabinet. A tape measure and a hammer were in His hands.
I stared at Him for a moment. "Never...nevermind," I said finally, flustered. I turned back to Saint Peter. "Give me the form, then. I'll be back."
Saint Peter dug around in a shining file cabinet for a moment before coming up with the proper papers. "Here," he said, clipping the papers together. "Don't lose it this time."
*"Me* lose it?" I cried, indignant. "Who's the freaking record keeper of Paradise here?"
"Look," said Saint Peter wearily. "I'm as tired of this as you are. You, my good fellow, are a pain in my blessed behind. Go on, get." He shooed me through a sudden gaping hole in existence.
I fell through the Universe slowly, into darkness and then into light, opening my eyes into a sterile glare. Oh heck no, they did *not* start me over from the beginning! I waved my arms and legs weakly in a panic as a lab coated doctor slapped my bum.
"No freaking fair!" I tried to scream, but all that came out was, "Waaaaaah!" | *I want... to speak... to the MANAGER!*
Karen's voice reached a shrill tone that shattered the ear-drums of all the angels manning the pearly gates on the most dreaded shift, black friday.
"Maam, we've told you before that we have no record of your deeds on earth. Our bookkeeper needs records to let the big man know where to put ya."
Karen was fuming now, her face turning visibly red. "I do not care about your 'bookkeeper'" she said with a snarl. "Get me inside now, or I will be forced to let my instagram followers know about this."
"Ah, so I see you already have an audience in hell." The head angel smirked. Karen was taken aback, but wouldn't give up.
"If you won't let me, i'll go myself." *Hmph.* She stormed towards the gate, clutching her purse in hand and looking at the ground.
An instant passed and she felt two very large hands on her shoulders. She looked up and saw a blue demon with a smile as wide as his eyes say calmly "until next time madam." and lobbed her back down to earth.
She awoke with a start inside a dark and gloomy Walmart inside a pile of gifts. | |
[WP] Your bank specializes in accounts of villains and monsters; accepting currencies from gold and cash, to blood and souls. As the only cashier of the bank, write about your daily work or about your most interesting clients. | "Hello welcome to Craft Credit Union!", I always hated saying that. I am a witch, granted not as powerful as some, powerful enough that I was placed here. Given the nature of what we do and who we work with, I was allowed to be "witchy", with our clients. They knew this, management knew this, yet I have to play nice at first.
I saw my first customers, a man and woman approached carrying a large sack. He lifted it easily and it landed with a large thud. "I would like to exchange this please.", the man said.
I opened the bag and found large bricks of gold. I pulled them out and weighed them. 6 kilos total. "Would you like cash or other?", I smiled wide. Still hate playing nice.
"Souls", he demanded. Not asked. DEMANDED. Whatever. I checked the exchange rate. SUL/AUX had fallen sharply, you would need more than 2Kg of gold for one soul. "Ok... not sure if you checked the exchange rate, but I can only give you 4 souls for this, and can credit the remainder to your account."
He did not like that. He screamed as black flames formed around him. I mentioned I'm a witch right? I have that, plus the enchanted items from the bank. I zapped him rather hard. "Sir, control yourself or I will have to get security involved." Our security are literal demons, and I love them with everything I have. Red skinned balls of happy rage... But I digress. He quickly changed his tone. I took the bars and retrieved his soul shards from storage. My way back I saw security posted up to the side, and he apologized for his outburst. I smiled as sweetly as I could and placed his items in his bag. I watched security stare him down as he left, and blew one of the demons a kiss. He hissed at me in return. I swear, I'm in love with him.
​
Second customer was one of my favorites. Vampire from Trinidad. Whatever image you have in your head is probably correct. I smiled as his entourage pushed a cart with ice coolers.
"Lydia, me sesta!", he said to me with wide arms. "Gaht som joose tedey." I nodded at the amount of coolers he placed on my table. "Great haul!", I remarked as I opened one. Inside was a human heart. I quickly closed it. The bank can no longer store organs after a spoiled meat incident.
"I'm sorry Maceo, we can only accept the blood at this time. I have a list of possibly interested buyers if that would help? Werewolves, if thats ok?" I personally don't understand the feud between wolves and vamps. Both sides are hostile because.... There is nothing more to that statement. They just hate each other for "reasons". Whatever. Maceo didn't like that idea and responded by yelling whatever Caribbean gibberish speak his language is. I held up a hand to security to hold them off while he finished. "Here.", I said as the list printed. I lined out the werewolves that I knew of on the list and handed it to him. "Lydia.", he said while patting his chest and holding his arms out in a hugging motion. He pulled out his cell phone and texted a few of the numbers as I took the blood to storage.
Third client. I could smell her before she approached my table. Sulphur, lavender, lust. If you think lust doesn't have a smell then you have never meet a succubus before. Brown skin, toned body; and those eyes. Pure black. I may be reconsidering my demon crush. She smiled to me as she sat a velvet sack on the table. "Exchange, pleeasseeee." Uhhh... the way she said that. Two soul shards in the bag. "What do you want to exchange for?", I asked while trying to avoid those eyes. She smiled back and had the most raspy voice I've ever hear. "You.", she said. "Dinner tonight?"
After I credited the souls to her account I clocked out for the rest of the day for "dinner." | The heels of the man's well-polished shoes clicked against the marble floor as he strode evenly towards the counter.
Behind the kiosk, the cashier bowed his head in greeting. "Asmodeus. A pleasure to see you back here."
"Yanluo." The voice clawed its way out from the back of the man's throat, scratchy from disuse. "We are here to make a withdrawal."
The being known as Yanluo nodded politely. "Of course, sir. However, I regret to inform you that another withdrawal from your current holdings will cause you to drop below our minimum required balance. If you make this transaction, you will be charged a fee for falling below the quota."
Asmodeus exploded, blanketing the air with a murky purple miasma. The dark cloud of gas pulsated with arcane energy, and when the being spoke again, his voice echoed from all corners of the room. "Gathering souls is no simple task, you glorified accountant. We insist you waive this minimum balance requirement. *Or else*.”
Yanluo sighed. “Sir, when you opened a balance here, you signed the Contract of Binding. If you threaten myself or my establishment, I have the right to eject you from the premises. Additionally, you will forfeit your ownership of all deposits. Would you like to repeat your earlier sentiments?”
Instead of deflating, the purple cloud of gas expanded in size, puffing itself up to fill the large hall. “WE,” Asmodeus proclaimed, “WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOUR MANAGER.”
Combing back his thinning hair, Yanluo sighed again. “Asmodeus, I have told you this time and time again. I *am* the manager. This is your final warning.”
The noxious cloud condensed into a translucent purple figure that was a rough approximation of the man it had been before. The edges of the figure smoked and unfurled, leaving an indistinct impression of where Asmodeus began and ended. The being’s face curled into a forced smile that was all teeth.
“We would like to take out a loan.”
\---
/r/theBasiliskWrites | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | *It was time. I'd finally managed to get my son out of his books for long enough to have a conversation face to face.*
He looked at me expectantly, full of the sass of one with a new vehicle.
"Son, you need to know something. This may change the way you see me, but it's for the best that you know. I am a god."
"Is that all? I figured that out ages ago."
It is rare that a god is at a loss for words.
"Dad, you have enough Greek artefacts to fill a museum exhibit several times over, you have three dogs and named them all Kirby, and you're unexplainably wealthy and doing paperwork all the time without ever holding an actual job. Either you work for the mob, or you're Hades, God of the Underworld."
"When you put it like that, I suppose you have a point. Still, was it really that obvious?"
"I might not have noticed it if you hadn't encouraged me to study the classics but I'm starting my master's next year and I've been reading the stories since I was a child. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."
*I suppose I should have seen this coming. The dog names were always a bit on the nose.*
"Right, well your... *aunt* has been asking when I planned on telling you for years now. I suppose a part of me always hoped you'd figure out and just ask me outright."
"You gave me the time I needed to come out. It only seemed right I do the same."
*Fates, when did he grow up?*
"Speaking of, when we say *aunt*, I assume we mean Pers-"
"By the Styx son, don't say her name out loud like that! Names have power. Especially with meaning and intent behind them. She's no queen of the gods, but you don't want *her* attention in particular."
He was quiet for a moment, perhaps realizing for the first time the full implications of the revelation.
"So does this mean I'm a demigod? If I'm being honest, I don't think I'm cut out to be a hero."
*His first thoughts always went back to the stories he's read, rather than making his own.*
"The world has changed, and so have the gods. There are fewer quests of heroics and daring to be taken on. The monsters of today are boredom, ignorance, and apathy. You slay them each day you bring your students excitement, knowledge, and passion for these stories."
"But they're not just stories are they? I mean, you're here, so there's something to them, isn't there?"
"If you really want to know, how about we put this on hold until after we eat. Pizza should be at the door in a minute." | "Well Jesus" my dad said.
"What?" said my best friend, Jesus, who had joined us for lunch.
"I guess I can't sneak one over on the Son of God", dad's brow furrowed.
"Yeah, you should've realized when he didn't fall for the whole Satan- I mean Santa charade", Jesus chortled.
I chimed in "so, obviously you're not omniscient dad, huh?"
"Not so much" replied dad.
"What powers *do* you have? Omnipresence?" I queried.
"I"m working on it. I have a 30 year plan. I'm manipulating economic systems to convince people to install surveillance devices in their doorbells, so I should be Omnipresent by 2032. I've tricked science companies into reading the human mind using fMRI brain imaging, so I should obtain Omniscience by 2042. And I'm influencing all the world's media outlets and expect to achieve Omnipotence by 2052."
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*Fast Forward to the year 2052\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
We had first contact with the Zuargonisms on January 15th 2052. Dad hadn't told me that his 30-year-plan was structured around what he *did* know. Sentient life from the planet Zuargon was preparing to connect with Earth beings and he needed to prepare all of the beings in time. 10 year time lines for his metrics were ambitious, but he got it done.
Using his surveillance network, he was able to observe the ailments of humanity. He built algorithms to amalgamate the data into 3 categories. The first category was naturally occurring events. Things that were part of the current natural order. The second grouping were systemic sins based in the actions across humanity that could've prevented undesired outcomes such as loss of life or diminishment of dignity. The final batch were interconnections between humans and the impending visit from the Zuargonisms.
He used this newly developed Homo Sapien Authority Technology (H-SAT) to persuade people from all nations to find their way to the same narrative. By 2049 he had swayed over 90% of humans to focus on planet-wide objectives. The final years up until 2052 were spent narrowing that final 10%. He convinced everyone that above all, life was the ultimate objective. People moved forward in peace, they spoke in music and laughed in dance.
When the Zuargonisms arrived, they discovered humans across the globe hosting raging dance parties to welcome them. The Zuargonisms accepted the hospitality and declared the first Inter-Galactic Dance Offering, a strong move toward the establishment of the Integrated Planets of the Milky Way. | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | He closed the oven, letting the roast finish cooking. "Ok son, I think it's time you and I had a little talk"
"Dad, I already know about birds and the bees"
He slammed his beer down, "Damnit I'm trying to be serious"
"Well thats a first"
"Well your turning 21 soon and my family wants to visit to celebrate"
"Oh that's cool.... Wait... YOUR family?"
"Yea, so... We aren't from where you think"
"Dad, I know we aren't from the middle east"
His eyes flashed a different color again, he never realizes they do that. Says the red eyes are in photos. But it's not the pupils on him. It's the whole eye. "What gave me away?"
Remember when I was a kid and I would get a scrape? The next day they would be gone. No scab no scar, just gone. And seriously, you say your fresh from Iraq and don't even know a little about Islam."
He looked sad, "I never wanted you to be in pain and I never cared for Monotheism, no fun"
"I know, but it wasn't until I moved out that I actually felt what a paper cut was for more than one day. And I swear, after Mom died you aged 20 years overnight. Then stopped and you haven't aged a day before or after that. And I don't know how you do it, but I can cook the same exact thing as you and it's bland, you don't even use spices. I do have a question though. You know I've been studying mythology, Who or what actually are you?"
"You wouldn't know, my first name was lost in history, we made the world, but didn't bother writing it all down, sure people made up other names, and then we would joke around to see who was who like you lot do with that one show. They never got it right. My first name Zippot, Lord of the flame"
I snagged a few more beers. "That show is called Friends by the way. You don't seem all that distructive, I swear you never hurt a soul. Everyone just seems at home with you"
"That's what the flames were, home. Something to gather around, it wasn't until humans started building things that flame was anything but home, I wanted humans to not be alone, So I made the flame give home and warmth and food"
He pulled the roast out of the oven. Not realizing that most people need pot holders. I started laughing.
"What's so funny? "
"I pulled out my lighter, You're Zippo god of flames"
He smirked, "Oh, you will get along fine with the family, just wait till you meet your uncle, we still give him shit about the platypus and you can tell him I told you to ask" | I’ve always knows my dad was… “special”
My mom had died in childbirth, so all my life it was just my dad and I. Every other kid in school had two parents, but I never felt jealous because my dad was more than enough.
In second grade, when Tommy shoved me into a locker and peed on me somehow my dad knew. When I got home he sat me down at the table and asked me if I wanted a pet. As any normal kid would be, I was ecstatic! He told me to be a good boy and I would have a new friend tomorrow.
The next day Tommy wasn’t at school, and he never showed up again. However when I got home, my dad had built a pen in the backyard, and there was a wolf in there.
“Here’s your new friend, I just made..errrmm found him this morning!”
Now normally a father would not allow their child to go anywhere near a wolf, but like I said, my dad was special. Also, for some reason I knew the wolf would never hurt me.
“What’s his name?” I asked
“His name’s Tom! What do you think?”
“I love him!”
Every day after school I would come home and play with Tom, and whenever I got bullied my dad would ask me the same question.
“Would you like a pet?”
And every time I said yes. And the next day there would be another wolf, with a similar name to my bully, out in the pen with Tom.
It took me too long to figure out the truth, but it was so absurd I didn’t believe it. No human can turn someone into a wolf right?
But then I started thinking about it. Isn’t it weird that my dad has looked the same for as long as I can remember? Also what kind of name is Loky? He always used to joke that his dad wanted to name him after a powerful god but he couldn’t spell, but I’ve never met someone with worse dyslexia than my dad. It’s almost as though he spoke a different language, but that can’t be right, I always hear him talk in English! Also what about his constant, child-like pranks? There was that one time in eighth grade when I was getting yelled at by a teacher for something someone else did, and then I caught a glimpse of my dad outside the window. The next thing I knew there was a pie flying through the open window that landed right in my teacher’s face. The security cameras didn’t see anything, and my dad never mentioned it but I definitely saw him there.
Then, when I turned 18 my school did a unit on Norse mythology, and it all hit me. The snakes that were always in the lawn, all the wolves, the amazing halloween costumes that I could’ve sworn were real.
Two years later I awakened. I was brushing my teeth as normal, and I saw my horrible bed head.
“I wish my hair was straight instead of super curly, it would make life so much easier” I said aloud to no one in particular. Then, as I was watching my hair started to straighten and drop into a perfect part.
OH MY GOD
“I wish my hair was pink and curly”
OH MY GOD
“I wish I was muscular”
OH MY GOD
“You know, I think it’s time we had that talk now” I heard the familiar voice of my dad say from right behind me.
“Dad, we’re in the middle of New York! You live in Seattle! When did you get here?”
“I just left, it’s a pretty short fly when you know what you’re doing. Anyways, son I need to tell you something. I am a god.”
“Dad I’m 20 and I’ve been studying mythology ever since my Norse mythology unit in twelfth grade. You really think I don’t know”
“Errr well uhhh” he stuttered. He clearly expected me to be surprised and overwhelmed, and my laid back manner seems to have short-circuited him.
“Why don’t you tech me how to fly, and we can forget the part where you lied about my ancestry for 20 years.” I said, raising my now purple eyebrow at him.
“Uhh sure, let me just eat some breakfast.”
“Also, can you teach me how to turn people into wolves? There’s this really annoying kid in my class that says Loki is a pushover” I said with a wicked gleam in my eye.
“Hahahahahaha, I would love to. Let’s try it out on some white supremacists first though, you need someone with a weak mind to practice on.”
————————————————-
Please let me know what you think, this is my first post here and I really want to develop my writing skills so any feedback is welcome! | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | "I'm so glad you came home for Thanksgiving, JJ. But before everyone else arrives I'd like to get a chance to talk with you about something. Can you sit down?" The words Mama H used implied it was a polite request, but the tone of her voice struck Jule's brain like a command. She had learned to ignore Mama H's commands when she was a child, but she obeyed anyways.
She sat down at the table, which Mama H had arrayed with the good china, the real silverware, and even the antique gravy boat that for some reason she always kept locked behind glass over the mantle. "What is it Mom?"
Mama H knelt down to look Jule straight in the eyes. "JJ, you turned twenty last week. I think you are finally old enough to know the family secrets. The truth about my side of the family." As she grabbed Jule's hands, the rest of the room seemed to go dark. The only thing Jule could see were her glowing eyes floating in the darkness. "I— I am a god."
Light flowed back into the room. Jule's mouth was slightly agape and she rolled her eyes. "Mom, I know. I've known since I was a kid."
Mama H jerked back and gasped in surprise. "How could you know? I've hidden it from you for all these years."
"Mom, your name is Hera. And you're currently nine feet tall. You forgot to shrink again. And Uncle Heph gave me a talking mechanical owl for my last birthday. And despite the fact that I am a hundred pound girl I can lift a car. And —"
Hera shrunk back down to a stately six feet and smoothed her hair. "Well. If you already know then I suppose there's not much to talk about, and I have a roast oxen in the oven to baste." She turned towards the kitchen.
"Wait, Mom. If we are talking about family secrets, why don't you tell me about Mama J?"
Hera froze for a second and wiped her eyes before turning back. "Your Mama Julia was the best person in the world. She's where you get your better half. You are a lot like her, your brown hair, your green eyes, that single-minded drive you have. She was a power to be reckoned with."
As she spoke, Hera futzed around with the table. When she got to the gravy boat, she held it in her hands without speaking for a minute. Jule interrupted her reminiscing. "And you were both my biological parents?"
"Oh, I took on another form for the day. A simple thing." She set the antique back down and turned back to Jule. "When you were born, things changed. She wished for a better world for you, a normal childhood. She couldn't escape the old world, though. The entanglements kept pulling her back until she was lost."
The doorbell rang. Hera rushed to the kitchen. "That'll be Herm. He's always early. You go play hostess, I've got to finish this basting."
(For fun, I set this one in the same universe as [yesterday's prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/c_avery_m/comments/rdc990/wp_greetings_mortal_i_am_hera_queen_of_the_gods/).)
\[More at r/c_avery_m\] | I’ve always knows my dad was… “special”
My mom had died in childbirth, so all my life it was just my dad and I. Every other kid in school had two parents, but I never felt jealous because my dad was more than enough.
In second grade, when Tommy shoved me into a locker and peed on me somehow my dad knew. When I got home he sat me down at the table and asked me if I wanted a pet. As any normal kid would be, I was ecstatic! He told me to be a good boy and I would have a new friend tomorrow.
The next day Tommy wasn’t at school, and he never showed up again. However when I got home, my dad had built a pen in the backyard, and there was a wolf in there.
“Here’s your new friend, I just made..errrmm found him this morning!”
Now normally a father would not allow their child to go anywhere near a wolf, but like I said, my dad was special. Also, for some reason I knew the wolf would never hurt me.
“What’s his name?” I asked
“His name’s Tom! What do you think?”
“I love him!”
Every day after school I would come home and play with Tom, and whenever I got bullied my dad would ask me the same question.
“Would you like a pet?”
And every time I said yes. And the next day there would be another wolf, with a similar name to my bully, out in the pen with Tom.
It took me too long to figure out the truth, but it was so absurd I didn’t believe it. No human can turn someone into a wolf right?
But then I started thinking about it. Isn’t it weird that my dad has looked the same for as long as I can remember? Also what kind of name is Loky? He always used to joke that his dad wanted to name him after a powerful god but he couldn’t spell, but I’ve never met someone with worse dyslexia than my dad. It’s almost as though he spoke a different language, but that can’t be right, I always hear him talk in English! Also what about his constant, child-like pranks? There was that one time in eighth grade when I was getting yelled at by a teacher for something someone else did, and then I caught a glimpse of my dad outside the window. The next thing I knew there was a pie flying through the open window that landed right in my teacher’s face. The security cameras didn’t see anything, and my dad never mentioned it but I definitely saw him there.
Then, when I turned 18 my school did a unit on Norse mythology, and it all hit me. The snakes that were always in the lawn, all the wolves, the amazing halloween costumes that I could’ve sworn were real.
Two years later I awakened. I was brushing my teeth as normal, and I saw my horrible bed head.
“I wish my hair was straight instead of super curly, it would make life so much easier” I said aloud to no one in particular. Then, as I was watching my hair started to straighten and drop into a perfect part.
OH MY GOD
“I wish my hair was pink and curly”
OH MY GOD
“I wish I was muscular”
OH MY GOD
“You know, I think it’s time we had that talk now” I heard the familiar voice of my dad say from right behind me.
“Dad, we’re in the middle of New York! You live in Seattle! When did you get here?”
“I just left, it’s a pretty short fly when you know what you’re doing. Anyways, son I need to tell you something. I am a god.”
“Dad I’m 20 and I’ve been studying mythology ever since my Norse mythology unit in twelfth grade. You really think I don’t know”
“Errr well uhhh” he stuttered. He clearly expected me to be surprised and overwhelmed, and my laid back manner seems to have short-circuited him.
“Why don’t you tech me how to fly, and we can forget the part where you lied about my ancestry for 20 years.” I said, raising my now purple eyebrow at him.
“Uhh sure, let me just eat some breakfast.”
“Also, can you teach me how to turn people into wolves? There’s this really annoying kid in my class that says Loki is a pushover” I said with a wicked gleam in my eye.
“Hahahahahaha, I would love to. Let’s try it out on some white supremacists first though, you need someone with a weak mind to practice on.”
————————————————-
Please let me know what you think, this is my first post here and I really want to develop my writing skills so any feedback is welcome! | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | The tide of mortals rises and falls.
Swells like a symphony.
Crashes like a wave against the tallest rocks.
And sure as a golden age rises, it will someday set– the land left bitterly shrouded in the one and only constant truth between myth and mortal alike.
Darkness.
From ember and ash, we clawed our way into being– gods. Birthed from the only true source of life; fire. From heat, we were forged. With the cold came knowledge.
*All* knowledge.
And that, most of us believe, is the true test. The first layer to break through– the eggshell from which we either break with our own beaks or tuck back into ourselves to sleep for a millenia more. The understanding that one is what one is and wrapping one's fingers around their assigned sword; it is no trivial feat.
And still, we must. For we were responsible. Gods were not born without purpose. It was etched into our skulls. Laid before our eyes and inscribed into our tools. What must be done was as clear as the brilliant burning stars around us, birthing more gods and continuing the cycle.
For parenting, however... no such manual existed.
I wasn't certain when to tell him, nor how. When I did, his lips birthed the first string of words to have ever surprised me.
A new emotion to a god was worth more than all the treasures in creation– I smiled perpetually as I doted upon the back of his head.
"You... already figured it out?"
"Of course," he chuckled as he turned around in his chair. "Who did you think you were fooling?"
"All of creation, I suppose," I responded.
"Yeah, you're not very slick," he said before turning back to his book.
"Where did I err?"
He sighed and closed his book before turning around and sitting backwards in his chair, "Alright, big guy. Riddle me this: how is it that someone who quotes scripture nonstop owns nothing religiously symbolic?"
"I..."
"Nothing around the house that would suggest you're of the faith," he continued. "You don't even own a copy of the scripture."
"For it was I who penned it," I defended myself.
"I get that, big shot."
". . . You could not have made such a leap in logic with that information alone," I insisted.
He folded his arms on the back of his chair and rested his head on them, looking upon me as though he pitied me.
"Dad. Remember when I was a little kid? When I wished I had a friend who understood me? Then suddenly, my stuffed tiger came to life?"
"T'was your imaginary friend," I smiled warmly. "I felt content to allow you to believe in it."
"Yeah, well I took him next door and Mrs. Goldman screamed for five minutes straight. She's *still* in a mental ward, do you realize that?"
I turned my gaze left and peered through the architecture. Indeed, Mr. Goldman had fallen asleep with a TV dinner on his gut. The true sign of a single man.
"Then there's all this mythology," he turned partway around and felt around for the book on his desk. He pulled it forward and set it against the backrest of the chair before poring over the pages. "I mean, this stuff in here. It's all describing *you*."
". . . Son. Had I known all this time how keen an intellect you possessed, I-"
"No. Nope. Even dum dum down at the end of the road could have figured you out. I said it once, I'll say it again, you're not slick."
I folded my arms and leaned against the wall.
"Well. How about that?"
"Yeah, how about that," he said before turning around returning to his studies. "I love you pop, but you're too perfect. Always where I need you to be. Telling me exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Making sure every single one of my needs is met. Nobody is *that* lucky. Like, *all the time*."
I chuckled softly before turning and making for the door.
"And dad..."
I turned around.
"Thanks. You're a god at being a dad."
Pride. Gods were to be wary of it.
The boy was good at testing me.
r/A15MinuteMythos | I’ve always knows my dad was… “special”
My mom had died in childbirth, so all my life it was just my dad and I. Every other kid in school had two parents, but I never felt jealous because my dad was more than enough.
In second grade, when Tommy shoved me into a locker and peed on me somehow my dad knew. When I got home he sat me down at the table and asked me if I wanted a pet. As any normal kid would be, I was ecstatic! He told me to be a good boy and I would have a new friend tomorrow.
The next day Tommy wasn’t at school, and he never showed up again. However when I got home, my dad had built a pen in the backyard, and there was a wolf in there.
“Here’s your new friend, I just made..errrmm found him this morning!”
Now normally a father would not allow their child to go anywhere near a wolf, but like I said, my dad was special. Also, for some reason I knew the wolf would never hurt me.
“What’s his name?” I asked
“His name’s Tom! What do you think?”
“I love him!”
Every day after school I would come home and play with Tom, and whenever I got bullied my dad would ask me the same question.
“Would you like a pet?”
And every time I said yes. And the next day there would be another wolf, with a similar name to my bully, out in the pen with Tom.
It took me too long to figure out the truth, but it was so absurd I didn’t believe it. No human can turn someone into a wolf right?
But then I started thinking about it. Isn’t it weird that my dad has looked the same for as long as I can remember? Also what kind of name is Loky? He always used to joke that his dad wanted to name him after a powerful god but he couldn’t spell, but I’ve never met someone with worse dyslexia than my dad. It’s almost as though he spoke a different language, but that can’t be right, I always hear him talk in English! Also what about his constant, child-like pranks? There was that one time in eighth grade when I was getting yelled at by a teacher for something someone else did, and then I caught a glimpse of my dad outside the window. The next thing I knew there was a pie flying through the open window that landed right in my teacher’s face. The security cameras didn’t see anything, and my dad never mentioned it but I definitely saw him there.
Then, when I turned 18 my school did a unit on Norse mythology, and it all hit me. The snakes that were always in the lawn, all the wolves, the amazing halloween costumes that I could’ve sworn were real.
Two years later I awakened. I was brushing my teeth as normal, and I saw my horrible bed head.
“I wish my hair was straight instead of super curly, it would make life so much easier” I said aloud to no one in particular. Then, as I was watching my hair started to straighten and drop into a perfect part.
OH MY GOD
“I wish my hair was pink and curly”
OH MY GOD
“I wish I was muscular”
OH MY GOD
“You know, I think it’s time we had that talk now” I heard the familiar voice of my dad say from right behind me.
“Dad, we’re in the middle of New York! You live in Seattle! When did you get here?”
“I just left, it’s a pretty short fly when you know what you’re doing. Anyways, son I need to tell you something. I am a god.”
“Dad I’m 20 and I’ve been studying mythology ever since my Norse mythology unit in twelfth grade. You really think I don’t know”
“Errr well uhhh” he stuttered. He clearly expected me to be surprised and overwhelmed, and my laid back manner seems to have short-circuited him.
“Why don’t you tech me how to fly, and we can forget the part where you lied about my ancestry for 20 years.” I said, raising my now purple eyebrow at him.
“Uhh sure, let me just eat some breakfast.”
“Also, can you teach me how to turn people into wolves? There’s this really annoying kid in my class that says Loki is a pushover” I said with a wicked gleam in my eye.
“Hahahahahaha, I would love to. Let’s try it out on some white supremacists first though, you need someone with a weak mind to practice on.”
————————————————-
Please let me know what you think, this is my first post here and I really want to develop my writing skills so any feedback is welcome! | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | He closed the oven, letting the roast finish cooking. "Ok son, I think it's time you and I had a little talk"
"Dad, I already know about birds and the bees"
He slammed his beer down, "Damnit I'm trying to be serious"
"Well thats a first"
"Well your turning 21 soon and my family wants to visit to celebrate"
"Oh that's cool.... Wait... YOUR family?"
"Yea, so... We aren't from where you think"
"Dad, I know we aren't from the middle east"
His eyes flashed a different color again, he never realizes they do that. Says the red eyes are in photos. But it's not the pupils on him. It's the whole eye. "What gave me away?"
Remember when I was a kid and I would get a scrape? The next day they would be gone. No scab no scar, just gone. And seriously, you say your fresh from Iraq and don't even know a little about Islam."
He looked sad, "I never wanted you to be in pain and I never cared for Monotheism, no fun"
"I know, but it wasn't until I moved out that I actually felt what a paper cut was for more than one day. And I swear, after Mom died you aged 20 years overnight. Then stopped and you haven't aged a day before or after that. And I don't know how you do it, but I can cook the same exact thing as you and it's bland, you don't even use spices. I do have a question though. You know I've been studying mythology, Who or what actually are you?"
"You wouldn't know, my first name was lost in history, we made the world, but didn't bother writing it all down, sure people made up other names, and then we would joke around to see who was who like you lot do with that one show. They never got it right. My first name Zippot, Lord of the flame"
I snagged a few more beers. "That show is called Friends by the way. You don't seem all that distructive, I swear you never hurt a soul. Everyone just seems at home with you"
"That's what the flames were, home. Something to gather around, it wasn't until humans started building things that flame was anything but home, I wanted humans to not be alone, So I made the flame give home and warmth and food"
He pulled the roast out of the oven. Not realizing that most people need pot holders. I started laughing.
"What's so funny? "
"I pulled out my lighter, You're Zippo god of flames"
He smirked, "Oh, you will get along fine with the family, just wait till you meet your uncle, we still give him shit about the platypus and you can tell him I told you to ask" | "Son, I need to tell you something. I am a dog"
"No, dad. You're dyslexic."
"Dog gone it. Son, I need to tell you something. I'm a Dad."
"I'm 20 and studying biology. You don't think I've figured that out?"
"God. Dammit. What I meant to say is: I'm a god."
"Yeah, a god-damned good dad."
"Well yeah, but that's not what I meant."
"Well, what did you mean?"
"You tell me. You studied Mythology."
"Biology."
"My, Bi, or any other guy. The point is, you understand English."
"Yes."
"So what I'm telling you, in English, is that you're a god!"
"I am?"
"Wait, no. I mean. I'm a god!"
"And I'm your son. Does that make me a god?"
"No, you're a god son."
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD? I'm your God-son?"
"No, son. I'm god. Me god, you son."
"Sun? I'd rather moon."
(A pair of not-quite god-like pants drop, revealing a large, if not totally divine, set of meaty ass cheeks.)
"I... guess I should have seen that coming."
"Your goddamned right."
"Wrong. I don't damn that at all."
"Right."
"Right."
(Awkward silence, they stare at one another. Son slowly pulls his pants up and buckles his belt.)
"So, dad? Don't be mad, but there's another question I had. Are you a good god or bad?"
"Well, son, I'm glad you asked because this is a very important question. Really, it comes down to a question of Ethics and perspective. The Kantian school of thought would say... and you aren't listening are you?"
"Um... glad. Sad. uh... rad."
"And, you're just naming words that rhyme, aren't you?"
"Uhh... fad... b-blad? Is blad a word? Sounds like it should be a word."
"Oh, me damn it. I can't take living with you anymore. You know what...? I think we need some time apart. How do you feel about mangers and swaddling cloth? I think it's time for you to take a little vacation."
Merry Christmas, I guess. | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | "I'm so glad you came home for Thanksgiving, JJ. But before everyone else arrives I'd like to get a chance to talk with you about something. Can you sit down?" The words Mama H used implied it was a polite request, but the tone of her voice struck Jule's brain like a command. She had learned to ignore Mama H's commands when she was a child, but she obeyed anyways.
She sat down at the table, which Mama H had arrayed with the good china, the real silverware, and even the antique gravy boat that for some reason she always kept locked behind glass over the mantle. "What is it Mom?"
Mama H knelt down to look Jule straight in the eyes. "JJ, you turned twenty last week. I think you are finally old enough to know the family secrets. The truth about my side of the family." As she grabbed Jule's hands, the rest of the room seemed to go dark. The only thing Jule could see were her glowing eyes floating in the darkness. "I— I am a god."
Light flowed back into the room. Jule's mouth was slightly agape and she rolled her eyes. "Mom, I know. I've known since I was a kid."
Mama H jerked back and gasped in surprise. "How could you know? I've hidden it from you for all these years."
"Mom, your name is Hera. And you're currently nine feet tall. You forgot to shrink again. And Uncle Heph gave me a talking mechanical owl for my last birthday. And despite the fact that I am a hundred pound girl I can lift a car. And —"
Hera shrunk back down to a stately six feet and smoothed her hair. "Well. If you already know then I suppose there's not much to talk about, and I have a roast oxen in the oven to baste." She turned towards the kitchen.
"Wait, Mom. If we are talking about family secrets, why don't you tell me about Mama J?"
Hera froze for a second and wiped her eyes before turning back. "Your Mama Julia was the best person in the world. She's where you get your better half. You are a lot like her, your brown hair, your green eyes, that single-minded drive you have. She was a power to be reckoned with."
As she spoke, Hera futzed around with the table. When she got to the gravy boat, she held it in her hands without speaking for a minute. Jule interrupted her reminiscing. "And you were both my biological parents?"
"Oh, I took on another form for the day. A simple thing." She set the antique back down and turned back to Jule. "When you were born, things changed. She wished for a better world for you, a normal childhood. She couldn't escape the old world, though. The entanglements kept pulling her back until she was lost."
The doorbell rang. Hera rushed to the kitchen. "That'll be Herm. He's always early. You go play hostess, I've got to finish this basting."
(For fun, I set this one in the same universe as [yesterday's prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/c_avery_m/comments/rdc990/wp_greetings_mortal_i_am_hera_queen_of_the_gods/).)
\[More at r/c_avery_m\] | "Son, I need to tell you something. I am a dog"
"No, dad. You're dyslexic."
"Dog gone it. Son, I need to tell you something. I'm a Dad."
"I'm 20 and studying biology. You don't think I've figured that out?"
"God. Dammit. What I meant to say is: I'm a god."
"Yeah, a god-damned good dad."
"Well yeah, but that's not what I meant."
"Well, what did you mean?"
"You tell me. You studied Mythology."
"Biology."
"My, Bi, or any other guy. The point is, you understand English."
"Yes."
"So what I'm telling you, in English, is that you're a god!"
"I am?"
"Wait, no. I mean. I'm a god!"
"And I'm your son. Does that make me a god?"
"No, you're a god son."
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD? I'm your God-son?"
"No, son. I'm god. Me god, you son."
"Sun? I'd rather moon."
(A pair of not-quite god-like pants drop, revealing a large, if not totally divine, set of meaty ass cheeks.)
"I... guess I should have seen that coming."
"Your goddamned right."
"Wrong. I don't damn that at all."
"Right."
"Right."
(Awkward silence, they stare at one another. Son slowly pulls his pants up and buckles his belt.)
"So, dad? Don't be mad, but there's another question I had. Are you a good god or bad?"
"Well, son, I'm glad you asked because this is a very important question. Really, it comes down to a question of Ethics and perspective. The Kantian school of thought would say... and you aren't listening are you?"
"Um... glad. Sad. uh... rad."
"And, you're just naming words that rhyme, aren't you?"
"Uhh... fad... b-blad? Is blad a word? Sounds like it should be a word."
"Oh, me damn it. I can't take living with you anymore. You know what...? I think we need some time apart. How do you feel about mangers and swaddling cloth? I think it's time for you to take a little vacation."
Merry Christmas, I guess. | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | The tide of mortals rises and falls.
Swells like a symphony.
Crashes like a wave against the tallest rocks.
And sure as a golden age rises, it will someday set– the land left bitterly shrouded in the one and only constant truth between myth and mortal alike.
Darkness.
From ember and ash, we clawed our way into being– gods. Birthed from the only true source of life; fire. From heat, we were forged. With the cold came knowledge.
*All* knowledge.
And that, most of us believe, is the true test. The first layer to break through– the eggshell from which we either break with our own beaks or tuck back into ourselves to sleep for a millenia more. The understanding that one is what one is and wrapping one's fingers around their assigned sword; it is no trivial feat.
And still, we must. For we were responsible. Gods were not born without purpose. It was etched into our skulls. Laid before our eyes and inscribed into our tools. What must be done was as clear as the brilliant burning stars around us, birthing more gods and continuing the cycle.
For parenting, however... no such manual existed.
I wasn't certain when to tell him, nor how. When I did, his lips birthed the first string of words to have ever surprised me.
A new emotion to a god was worth more than all the treasures in creation– I smiled perpetually as I doted upon the back of his head.
"You... already figured it out?"
"Of course," he chuckled as he turned around in his chair. "Who did you think you were fooling?"
"All of creation, I suppose," I responded.
"Yeah, you're not very slick," he said before turning back to his book.
"Where did I err?"
He sighed and closed his book before turning around and sitting backwards in his chair, "Alright, big guy. Riddle me this: how is it that someone who quotes scripture nonstop owns nothing religiously symbolic?"
"I..."
"Nothing around the house that would suggest you're of the faith," he continued. "You don't even own a copy of the scripture."
"For it was I who penned it," I defended myself.
"I get that, big shot."
". . . You could not have made such a leap in logic with that information alone," I insisted.
He folded his arms on the back of his chair and rested his head on them, looking upon me as though he pitied me.
"Dad. Remember when I was a little kid? When I wished I had a friend who understood me? Then suddenly, my stuffed tiger came to life?"
"T'was your imaginary friend," I smiled warmly. "I felt content to allow you to believe in it."
"Yeah, well I took him next door and Mrs. Goldman screamed for five minutes straight. She's *still* in a mental ward, do you realize that?"
I turned my gaze left and peered through the architecture. Indeed, Mr. Goldman had fallen asleep with a TV dinner on his gut. The true sign of a single man.
"Then there's all this mythology," he turned partway around and felt around for the book on his desk. He pulled it forward and set it against the backrest of the chair before poring over the pages. "I mean, this stuff in here. It's all describing *you*."
". . . Son. Had I known all this time how keen an intellect you possessed, I-"
"No. Nope. Even dum dum down at the end of the road could have figured you out. I said it once, I'll say it again, you're not slick."
I folded my arms and leaned against the wall.
"Well. How about that?"
"Yeah, how about that," he said before turning around returning to his studies. "I love you pop, but you're too perfect. Always where I need you to be. Telling me exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Making sure every single one of my needs is met. Nobody is *that* lucky. Like, *all the time*."
I chuckled softly before turning and making for the door.
"And dad..."
I turned around.
"Thanks. You're a god at being a dad."
Pride. Gods were to be wary of it.
The boy was good at testing me.
r/A15MinuteMythos | "Son, I need to tell you something. I am a dog"
"No, dad. You're dyslexic."
"Dog gone it. Son, I need to tell you something. I'm a Dad."
"I'm 20 and studying biology. You don't think I've figured that out?"
"God. Dammit. What I meant to say is: I'm a god."
"Yeah, a god-damned good dad."
"Well yeah, but that's not what I meant."
"Well, what did you mean?"
"You tell me. You studied Mythology."
"Biology."
"My, Bi, or any other guy. The point is, you understand English."
"Yes."
"So what I'm telling you, in English, is that you're a god!"
"I am?"
"Wait, no. I mean. I'm a god!"
"And I'm your son. Does that make me a god?"
"No, you're a god son."
"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD? I'm your God-son?"
"No, son. I'm god. Me god, you son."
"Sun? I'd rather moon."
(A pair of not-quite god-like pants drop, revealing a large, if not totally divine, set of meaty ass cheeks.)
"I... guess I should have seen that coming."
"Your goddamned right."
"Wrong. I don't damn that at all."
"Right."
"Right."
(Awkward silence, they stare at one another. Son slowly pulls his pants up and buckles his belt.)
"So, dad? Don't be mad, but there's another question I had. Are you a good god or bad?"
"Well, son, I'm glad you asked because this is a very important question. Really, it comes down to a question of Ethics and perspective. The Kantian school of thought would say... and you aren't listening are you?"
"Um... glad. Sad. uh... rad."
"And, you're just naming words that rhyme, aren't you?"
"Uhh... fad... b-blad? Is blad a word? Sounds like it should be a word."
"Oh, me damn it. I can't take living with you anymore. You know what...? I think we need some time apart. How do you feel about mangers and swaddling cloth? I think it's time for you to take a little vacation."
Merry Christmas, I guess. | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | The tide of mortals rises and falls.
Swells like a symphony.
Crashes like a wave against the tallest rocks.
And sure as a golden age rises, it will someday set– the land left bitterly shrouded in the one and only constant truth between myth and mortal alike.
Darkness.
From ember and ash, we clawed our way into being– gods. Birthed from the only true source of life; fire. From heat, we were forged. With the cold came knowledge.
*All* knowledge.
And that, most of us believe, is the true test. The first layer to break through– the eggshell from which we either break with our own beaks or tuck back into ourselves to sleep for a millenia more. The understanding that one is what one is and wrapping one's fingers around their assigned sword; it is no trivial feat.
And still, we must. For we were responsible. Gods were not born without purpose. It was etched into our skulls. Laid before our eyes and inscribed into our tools. What must be done was as clear as the brilliant burning stars around us, birthing more gods and continuing the cycle.
For parenting, however... no such manual existed.
I wasn't certain when to tell him, nor how. When I did, his lips birthed the first string of words to have ever surprised me.
A new emotion to a god was worth more than all the treasures in creation– I smiled perpetually as I doted upon the back of his head.
"You... already figured it out?"
"Of course," he chuckled as he turned around in his chair. "Who did you think you were fooling?"
"All of creation, I suppose," I responded.
"Yeah, you're not very slick," he said before turning back to his book.
"Where did I err?"
He sighed and closed his book before turning around and sitting backwards in his chair, "Alright, big guy. Riddle me this: how is it that someone who quotes scripture nonstop owns nothing religiously symbolic?"
"I..."
"Nothing around the house that would suggest you're of the faith," he continued. "You don't even own a copy of the scripture."
"For it was I who penned it," I defended myself.
"I get that, big shot."
". . . You could not have made such a leap in logic with that information alone," I insisted.
He folded his arms on the back of his chair and rested his head on them, looking upon me as though he pitied me.
"Dad. Remember when I was a little kid? When I wished I had a friend who understood me? Then suddenly, my stuffed tiger came to life?"
"T'was your imaginary friend," I smiled warmly. "I felt content to allow you to believe in it."
"Yeah, well I took him next door and Mrs. Goldman screamed for five minutes straight. She's *still* in a mental ward, do you realize that?"
I turned my gaze left and peered through the architecture. Indeed, Mr. Goldman had fallen asleep with a TV dinner on his gut. The true sign of a single man.
"Then there's all this mythology," he turned partway around and felt around for the book on his desk. He pulled it forward and set it against the backrest of the chair before poring over the pages. "I mean, this stuff in here. It's all describing *you*."
". . . Son. Had I known all this time how keen an intellect you possessed, I-"
"No. Nope. Even dum dum down at the end of the road could have figured you out. I said it once, I'll say it again, you're not slick."
I folded my arms and leaned against the wall.
"Well. How about that?"
"Yeah, how about that," he said before turning around returning to his studies. "I love you pop, but you're too perfect. Always where I need you to be. Telling me exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Making sure every single one of my needs is met. Nobody is *that* lucky. Like, *all the time*."
I chuckled softly before turning and making for the door.
"And dad..."
I turned around.
"Thanks. You're a god at being a dad."
Pride. Gods were to be wary of it.
The boy was good at testing me.
r/A15MinuteMythos | "I'm so glad you came home for Thanksgiving, JJ. But before everyone else arrives I'd like to get a chance to talk with you about something. Can you sit down?" The words Mama H used implied it was a polite request, but the tone of her voice struck Jule's brain like a command. She had learned to ignore Mama H's commands when she was a child, but she obeyed anyways.
She sat down at the table, which Mama H had arrayed with the good china, the real silverware, and even the antique gravy boat that for some reason she always kept locked behind glass over the mantle. "What is it Mom?"
Mama H knelt down to look Jule straight in the eyes. "JJ, you turned twenty last week. I think you are finally old enough to know the family secrets. The truth about my side of the family." As she grabbed Jule's hands, the rest of the room seemed to go dark. The only thing Jule could see were her glowing eyes floating in the darkness. "I— I am a god."
Light flowed back into the room. Jule's mouth was slightly agape and she rolled her eyes. "Mom, I know. I've known since I was a kid."
Mama H jerked back and gasped in surprise. "How could you know? I've hidden it from you for all these years."
"Mom, your name is Hera. And you're currently nine feet tall. You forgot to shrink again. And Uncle Heph gave me a talking mechanical owl for my last birthday. And despite the fact that I am a hundred pound girl I can lift a car. And —"
Hera shrunk back down to a stately six feet and smoothed her hair. "Well. If you already know then I suppose there's not much to talk about, and I have a roast oxen in the oven to baste." She turned towards the kitchen.
"Wait, Mom. If we are talking about family secrets, why don't you tell me about Mama J?"
Hera froze for a second and wiped her eyes before turning back. "Your Mama Julia was the best person in the world. She's where you get your better half. You are a lot like her, your brown hair, your green eyes, that single-minded drive you have. She was a power to be reckoned with."
As she spoke, Hera futzed around with the table. When she got to the gravy boat, she held it in her hands without speaking for a minute. Jule interrupted her reminiscing. "And you were both my biological parents?"
"Oh, I took on another form for the day. A simple thing." She set the antique back down and turned back to Jule. "When you were born, things changed. She wished for a better world for you, a normal childhood. She couldn't escape the old world, though. The entanglements kept pulling her back until she was lost."
The doorbell rang. Hera rushed to the kitchen. "That'll be Herm. He's always early. You go play hostess, I've got to finish this basting."
(For fun, I set this one in the same universe as [yesterday's prompt](https://www.reddit.com/r/c_avery_m/comments/rdc990/wp_greetings_mortal_i_am_hera_queen_of_the_gods/).)
\[More at r/c_avery_m\] | |
[WP] "Son, i need to tell you something. I am a god." "Dad, I'm 20 and studying mythology. You don't think i haven't figured that out?" | The tide of mortals rises and falls.
Swells like a symphony.
Crashes like a wave against the tallest rocks.
And sure as a golden age rises, it will someday set– the land left bitterly shrouded in the one and only constant truth between myth and mortal alike.
Darkness.
From ember and ash, we clawed our way into being– gods. Birthed from the only true source of life; fire. From heat, we were forged. With the cold came knowledge.
*All* knowledge.
And that, most of us believe, is the true test. The first layer to break through– the eggshell from which we either break with our own beaks or tuck back into ourselves to sleep for a millenia more. The understanding that one is what one is and wrapping one's fingers around their assigned sword; it is no trivial feat.
And still, we must. For we were responsible. Gods were not born without purpose. It was etched into our skulls. Laid before our eyes and inscribed into our tools. What must be done was as clear as the brilliant burning stars around us, birthing more gods and continuing the cycle.
For parenting, however... no such manual existed.
I wasn't certain when to tell him, nor how. When I did, his lips birthed the first string of words to have ever surprised me.
A new emotion to a god was worth more than all the treasures in creation– I smiled perpetually as I doted upon the back of his head.
"You... already figured it out?"
"Of course," he chuckled as he turned around in his chair. "Who did you think you were fooling?"
"All of creation, I suppose," I responded.
"Yeah, you're not very slick," he said before turning back to his book.
"Where did I err?"
He sighed and closed his book before turning around and sitting backwards in his chair, "Alright, big guy. Riddle me this: how is it that someone who quotes scripture nonstop owns nothing religiously symbolic?"
"I..."
"Nothing around the house that would suggest you're of the faith," he continued. "You don't even own a copy of the scripture."
"For it was I who penned it," I defended myself.
"I get that, big shot."
". . . You could not have made such a leap in logic with that information alone," I insisted.
He folded his arms on the back of his chair and rested his head on them, looking upon me as though he pitied me.
"Dad. Remember when I was a little kid? When I wished I had a friend who understood me? Then suddenly, my stuffed tiger came to life?"
"T'was your imaginary friend," I smiled warmly. "I felt content to allow you to believe in it."
"Yeah, well I took him next door and Mrs. Goldman screamed for five minutes straight. She's *still* in a mental ward, do you realize that?"
I turned my gaze left and peered through the architecture. Indeed, Mr. Goldman had fallen asleep with a TV dinner on his gut. The true sign of a single man.
"Then there's all this mythology," he turned partway around and felt around for the book on his desk. He pulled it forward and set it against the backrest of the chair before poring over the pages. "I mean, this stuff in here. It's all describing *you*."
". . . Son. Had I known all this time how keen an intellect you possessed, I-"
"No. Nope. Even dum dum down at the end of the road could have figured you out. I said it once, I'll say it again, you're not slick."
I folded my arms and leaned against the wall.
"Well. How about that?"
"Yeah, how about that," he said before turning around returning to his studies. "I love you pop, but you're too perfect. Always where I need you to be. Telling me exactly what I need to hear when I need to hear it. Making sure every single one of my needs is met. Nobody is *that* lucky. Like, *all the time*."
I chuckled softly before turning and making for the door.
"And dad..."
I turned around.
"Thanks. You're a god at being a dad."
Pride. Gods were to be wary of it.
The boy was good at testing me.
r/A15MinuteMythos | Alex watched his father pour water over a bundle of spaghetti sitting in a pot.
It was funny, really. His dad confessing to him that he was God, like a sinner confessing a secret to a priest, hoping for forgiveness. But he’d known already. Had for a long time.
“So when did you find out?” Dad asked. “You know, that I’m… Him.”
Alex shrugged. “I think when you’re a very little kid, both your parents are kind of gods to you. Then, as your grow up, as you understand the world a bit more, you see they’re just adults and there are lots of people like them.”
Alex paused and opened a jar of tomato sauce, handing it to his dad. “That is to say, it wasn’t so much a matter of finding out as much as just keeping that feeling that other kids lose.”
Dad poured the sauce into another pan. Then he filled a glass up with tap water. Tapped the side of the glass. A bloom of red inked out in the water. Dad took a long swig.
”You doing stuff like that probably gave it away a bit though,” said Alex.
Dad wiped his mouth. “Yeah. I guess it would. Old habits, right? Besides, it’s more of a Jesus thing to most people.”
”Did Mom know you were God?”
Dad smiled. “She knew. But it didn’t really bother her. She just treated me like I was a person. That’s why I loved her.”
”I bet the drinking bothered her though.”
”Ah. Yeah. It would have. To be honest, I didn’t do so much of it until she died. Stresses of being a single father, right? How humans do it, God only knows.” He forced a chuckle.
Alex smiled politely.
The water bubbled. Dad turned down the heat and added first salt, then a little oil.
”Guess you want me to help you with your coursework? Mythology happens to be a pretty strong subject of mine. Back when they called me Zeus I—“
“Why don’t you do anything anymore?” Alex said. The question snapped out of him. Like a rubber band pulled until it broke. This band had been stretching inside of him for years, waiting for release.
”What do you mean, nothing? I work, don’t I? That’s how I got you through school. And I help out in soup kitchens — and a second-hand shop.”
“Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
Dad didn’t respond. He looked at Alex. Then at the sauce lying cold in a pot.
”Did you hear me? Everyone thinks—“
”They’re the ones who killed me! Hell, they crucified my first son. Then expelled the very thought of me from society. They label those who want to believe in me as nuts.“ He caught a breath. “You know what the philosophers say about me?”
Alex shook his head.
”That I’m dead, but it could take a thousand years more to chase my shadows off all the cave walls.“
Alex digested the sentence. Did it mean the slow process of educating people out of faith?
“Yeah that’s exactly what it means,” said Dad. “Because faith is for idiots. That’s why I gave up. That’s why I became one of them. Why I married a woman and raised a kid and didn’t tell anyone who I was. Because this way, I get to love and be loved. And we get to be left alone.“
“Sorry,” said Alex. Although he didn’t know why he said it. Not exactly. He’d never seen his Dad this upset.
Dad turned on the flame beneath the sauce. “She’s been dead sixteen years and I still can’t cook much more than spaghetti. You’d think I’d have learned something by now. Pathetic, right?”
”It’s not selfish to want your own life,” said Alex.
Dad said nothing. Not for a long while. Then, with a sigh: “It’s not brave, either. Ah, what are we going to do, eh?”
“People always worship. You know that, right? One of the first things we learned in class.”
”What do you mean?” said Dad.
”If it’s not religion, it’s ideology. Or it’s looks. Or it’s the material stuff people buy. Either way, everyone has to worship something. There’s an empty spot in us that needs to be filled by it.”
”Then I’m glad they found a replacement for me.”
Alex shook his head. “That’s just it. It’s not a replacement. People who worship money or beauty… it destroys them in the end. Because there’s no depth to it. And once the money dries up, or their looks fade, they’ve got nothing. And everything they believed crumbles down. Castles of sand, Dad.”
Dad took the pot of spaghetti and drained the water over the sink. “Not easy being human.”
”People are lost, Dad.”
His dad took a long breath. Alex saw tears running down his father’s cheeks and into his brown beard. For the first time Alex could remember, he thought his father looked old. Old and frail.
“What about me?” said Dad. “You think I know where I am? Think I’m not just as lost as all of them? Ever since your mom—”
”She’s gone,” Alex yelled. “She’s gone, Dad. But you’re still here.”
Dad ran his hands over his face.
“I’m sorry,” Dad said, after a long pause.
”Yeah. Me too.”
“Don’t be. I’m the one who brought all this up.” Dad took his glass of wine and tapped the side. The red drained away into nothingness.
”You didn’t need to. Not for my sake.”
”It was for my sake,” said Dad. “Think you can finish making dinner? It’s pretty much done.”
”You going somewhere?”
”Yeah. I need to go find something. Something that’s been lost for a long time.” He kissed Alex on the forehead. “I’ll be back though,” he said. “I promise.” | |
[WP] When a person dies, the grim reaper grants them a single wish. People usually ask for their favorite food, or to see a loved one one last time. You are the first to ask to be forgotten. | The gaunt figure lifted a bony arm. "Your final wish, mortal," it intoned. "What would you have before you leave the physical realm?"
I froze. For one thing Death was *quite* a lot taller than I'd anticipated. For another I wasn't expecting to get a wish. I felt like there had to be a loophole here somewhere.
"OK," I finally. "I wish for you to forget me."
Death sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of Their skeletal nose. "Are you sure?" They sighed. "Granted."
"Thank you!" I couldn't believe it had worked.
"For what?" asked Death.
"Forgetting me!"
"Who are you?"
"Oh," I said, catching myself. "Just...someone. See you around!" And off I frolicked.
Having been forgotten by Death was a heady experience. Not long afterwards, I was hit by a car, but recovered speedily from my nonlethal injuries.
So I went skydiving. I went scuba diving. I went cliff jumping. I became a total adrenaline junkie. It was great! I couldn't die! Even doing ridiculously dangerous things, I was rarely injured. If I was, it was never serious. I got a job as a Hollywood stunt man. It paid well. I had a blast. I was living the dream.
But.
Time kept on. My friends started to retire. I was fifty and still fiesty. I kept up the stunt work until the producers collective decided I was just too old. A safety hazard.
Of course I couldn't tell them the truth--that I'd cheated Death thirty years ago so there was no chance of me kicking it on-set--so I was let go from the studio.
As a vigorous 65 year old I took up formal dancing. That was fun for another couple decades, until I twirled my partner and she broke a hip and decided, at 78, to hang up her dancing shoes.
Now I was in my 80s, nothing special to look at, except perhaps for something a bit oddly youthful in my stride. I cast about for purpose.
I started looking up old friends. Most of them were gone. A few lingered in rest homes or at home with their grown kids and grandkids. Some were still able to converse.
This was depressing.
I tried my hand at crafting. For a long while I sat on a mountaintop carving little animals out of bits of wood. I garnered a bit of a reputation as a Sage, which was pleasant at first, but soon enough folks came barging into my peace and quiet with a load of stupid questions about the Nature of Existence, and I really didn't have the patience. So I moved on.
I was so old now that despite my vigor I couldn't get a job. Who wanted to hire someone a century old? Plus technology was getting entirely out of hand. People ran around all day staring at rectangular gadgets with print small enough to make a decent man go blind. Without a rectangle gadget you couldn't get anything done anymore. So I had no money. I slept on the street.
I was an old dog. I was tired of learning new tricks. I stood on an empty street corner one night and screamed.
"All right! You win! Come on, Death, I give."
The disconcerting tall figure of Death wavered out from behind a telephone pole.
"I'm sorry," They said. "Have we met?" | As their soul left their mortal body they were greeted with the face of death, they had no reason to fear the being seeing as they had already passed, feelings were the point of this in the first place. "You get one wish before you disappear forever" death spoke, leaving the now deceased human silent for a few seconds "I get to wish for whatever I want" they questioned "whatever you want" death repeated, expecting some common answer like "I wish to know how I died", " who killed me", or "I wish to see my family one last time" but the mortals response shook the being.
"I wish to be forgotten" the mortal said, death had never heard such an answer, most wanted people to remember them for the things they did and for the person they were "you wish to be dead?" Death asked and the mortal nodded "It's not truly disappearing forever if people remember me" the mortal spoke, this is what they had wanted, after all, people wished for their death, for their demise, for them to have never existed, and now that was all coming true.
Now all the pain they had causes will be forgotten, and all the people who hated them will finally have peace, and no one will be sad that they're gone, but even after being forgotten the smiles and joy the people around them experienced just because of them will not be forgotten, though they will not know who caused it or why they felt that way, they will always have missing pieces of their memories because the mortal decided it was best to be forgotten, but now everyone will always wonder, who made then feel the joy they can never feel again. | |
[WP] When a person dies, the grim reaper grants them a single wish. People usually ask for their favorite food, or to see a loved one one last time. You are the first to ask to be forgotten. | "To be forgotten?" The mysterious figure slowly uttered the words, never did it expect for such a request made by a race so utterly focused on leaving their mark in this world.
"Yes" The tall man in the torn jeans and white shirt replied, his brown wavy hair moved with his head, back and forth.
"This is a most peculiar request child, why would you want to be forgotten?" It asked, an emotionless voice came from the spectral skeletal face.
"It would be easier knowing they will feel no pain, no struggle, no grief. All I wanted was for them to live happily, and seeing their dark tears flow on their sullen faces... It broke my heart" the man replied, his hair stopped as he did, his almost childlike expression darkened.
"But their pain is a show of love, would you take it away as well?"
"Then I wish there could be love without pain, without sorrow" the man said, his hands pocketed and his back arched.
"But love is the door to pain, there cannot be one without the other, exactly as one cannot have light without darkness"
"Then I wish to ease their pain, I wish for them to focus on something else, to find happiness and love to fill their hearts"
The reaper looked at him, the man has grown old, his hair whitened and decayed.
"I have granted you your wish, look down and see"
The man looked down, his grave old and dusty, but his house was warm, with movement and laughter, and for a single moment he smiled, the leaves rustled, and he was no more. | - To be forgotten? - Death was surprised at the request
- Yes.
- Dude, You are the freaking prime minister! Do you know much paperwork that is?
- I wish to be forgotten - The Prime minister was standing in attention, as the military man he has been his whole life.
- Can you ask for your favorite meal or to see your childhood dog? Hey, I can even throw you both! Dead puppy and favorite meal. What do you say?
- I said I want to to be forgotten.
- Ugh. Come on dude. I’m not sure we even have the forms for that. The bureaucracy in the afterlife is ten times worse than your regime was! There will be a 97-b form and an 82-C form so that I can apply for a 532-H form to request the creation of a… I don’t know, 000-X form?
- The world would be better if my memory disappeared.
- Maybe, but being forgotten is not just about you. There are all the people you influenced! Prime minister, remember?! I’ll have to reach out to the afterlife departments in practically the whole world!
- Is my last wish - The prime minister’s voice was strong but respectful, clearly indicating he won’t take no for an answer.
- Fine! But don’t go telling people that the last wish before death is all giving. What would be next? Being remembered as a superstar?
- Thank you
- Shut up and get in the death van. - The spirit in front of the Grim Reaper quietly walked away.
- Ok, who is next: Queen Elizabeth. Huh, she was besties with this Prime Minister. Well, at least I won’t have to erase her memory. - Death disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, | |
[WP] We’ve learned to prolong life by replacing the human heart with a small but complex biotech battery. However, it must be charged daily by sleeping to avoid a total body shutdown. You’re an insomniac and a workaholic. What is seen as a boon by society is a constant ticking clock for you. | “Work work work, take a break, close your eyes, sleep, watch the clock, work, work work,” These thoughts stream through my head as my wrist watch vibrates to remind me that twenty four hours is bearing down on me like a bullet train. My heart taunts me, like a loaded gun it forces me to rest even when it is uncomfortable. I slam down some melatonin and chase it with some sleep medication.
When I got the implant I was already a sort of workaholic. I didn't sit up in an office, no I worked from home. Toiling away on passion projects that just happened to prove valuable enough to society for my labor to be seen as work. It was a few years after that I found out that I was also in fact an insomniac. After a few close brushes with running out of charge I finally took my life into my hands and started trying actively to fight back against my resistance to sleep.
There are always issues. My liver is probably not too dissimilar to an alcoholic, I am spending out the ass on sleep meds, and of course I am vexed with unending anxiety about getting enough sleep. It's hard, I get sucked into my work and before I know it I have been busy for ten hours and my wife is asking me to go out for the night. I spend my time with her, and love it I might add, then return to work. Always thinking that there is time before I need to sleep until my alarms tear open my impenetrable focus and drag me to the bed.
I have tried it all, meditation, counting sheep, getting a comfy bed, nothing seems to work too well. If I am not struggling to fall asleep I am waking up too early and making the recharge even harder to track. But it's not all bad. I started this several decades ago and while I have gotten older my quality of life is still close to what it was when I first got the implant. Living has labor and I suppose this one is mine, just hope I can sleep a little better sometime soon. | You could write a workaround, like the tec only works when you sleep, or the charger is too big to wear, but I prefer reasons, not workarounds.
This would work beautifully in a utopian society like ‘The Giver’ where everyone gets an artificial heart at birth, and it’s used as a control device. If you try to escape you can bring the bed, nor would it work without the infrastructure of the city or whatever. It would also be a nice lil kill switch for pesky rebellions.
And considering that this allows people to live longer, time looses value, thus making everyone working slaves, which fits the narrative very well. I could see this going in the chosen one direction, where the main character gets pig heart or something and is no longer controllable by the government. Of course there’s no police, because everyone has a kill switch, and the main character is able to wreak havoc. | |
[WP] We’ve learned to prolong life by replacing the human heart with a small but complex biotech battery. However, it must be charged daily by sleeping to avoid a total body shutdown. You’re an insomniac and a workaholic. What is seen as a boon by society is a constant ticking clock for you. | Tick tick tick tick tick tick... I swear I can hear that little fucker counting down to my death. Here I am, lying awake at 3 in the morning scared that I might have truly overdone it this time. The deadline had been just too close and my workflow just not fast enough, so here I was, listening to the one thing that kept me alive in the hopes of it maybe having enough juice left for me to fall asleep. I don't know why I keep doing this, I hate this so much and I just want to sleep but everytime I let myself overextend my day into the night and every time I fail to fall asleep. But this time I knew I was in too deep. I had pulled too many days with only short naps to be confident in the charge I had left. Just go to sleep, everything will be alright. At least, in theory, because I might still just die or my worries might just drive me over the edge and I could be listening to the last seconds of my life. What was it all for then? If I died now, what would I leave behind? My heart accelerated and my veins got slightly colder. This was not helping. But what was I supposed to do? Just go to sleep? Every day, waking up, working 16 hours a day and the going to sleep? My life keeps slipping away from me and I can never seem to get a grasp on it. Only in these small moments can I feel my own existence. Where did all that time go? 20 years doing my job and I don't remember a thing. I haven't gotten to where I want in life yet and yet here I am probably minutes from falling into a slumber I might not wake from. If I had a choice I would have never gotten this stupid thing, but it's standard procedure in all infants now and it's not like hearts are indestructible either. It might have failed me already given the lifestyle I've lead up until now. What a crazy world. I keep working and working and working in the hopes of someday ending up satisfied and everyone around me keeps telling me that it's the normal thing to do. Why is it normal? How is it normal to let your entire life be dictated by work and sleep. I want more than this. How am I the only one? I just need to grasp a bit further and I'll get to where I want to be. Just one step more. I just need one day more and then I'll start sleeping more. Then I'll start taking care of my body. I just didn't have the time for that until now. One day more. Just a bit more. Just a bit... Stretch just a bit further and I can grasp it. I felt my eyelids slowly fall and my limbs getting heavy. Lethargy overtaking my body I think one more thing before slipping into the darkness: "Just one more project and I'll be happy" | You could write a workaround, like the tec only works when you sleep, or the charger is too big to wear, but I prefer reasons, not workarounds.
This would work beautifully in a utopian society like ‘The Giver’ where everyone gets an artificial heart at birth, and it’s used as a control device. If you try to escape you can bring the bed, nor would it work without the infrastructure of the city or whatever. It would also be a nice lil kill switch for pesky rebellions.
And considering that this allows people to live longer, time looses value, thus making everyone working slaves, which fits the narrative very well. I could see this going in the chosen one direction, where the main character gets pig heart or something and is no longer controllable by the government. Of course there’s no police, because everyone has a kill switch, and the main character is able to wreak havoc. | |
[WP] In a world full of supers, you were destined to have a power. Unfortunately, your power is ad-blocking. Every where you go, ads disappear. Form billboards, to signs, to commercials, you never see anything new making life difficult. And the big corporations just deemed you a threat. | ***First time posting. Sorry if this is too long or has grammar mistakes.***
“It’s corporate sabotage Damo, that you’re doing here. I could have you jailed, you know? Or extradited to any one of the,” Detective Sulley paused to study the clipboard in front of him, “thirty countries where you’ve been directly linked to this kind of corporate crime.” The detective’s voice was a thing of gravel and grit that echoed around the small, dimly lit room like rocks in a tin coffee can. And it was grating as hell.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Max tried to explain himself again. “I told you. I can’t control it. It’s—it’s like a sneeze or a cough. It just happens. ”As he spoke, Max reached for one of the ginger snaps that sat on a plate in the middle of the long silver table. To his dismay the detective’s finger pulled the plate back and out of the reach.
“Cut the crap kid. Is it Apple? Samsung? The Russians? I could have you jailed, you know.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
Max sighed. “I work at the bank, Detective. You have that in your file, I’m sure.” And what a file it was, nearly three inches thick full of papers and clippings and bits of paper. They had been after Max for a long time.
The detective snorted, glancing at the coffee-stained papers in front of him. “I have your listed work address. But I’ve never known a Super who didn’t have more pots than fingers to put them in.”
“Just work with us kid,” a soft voice whispered behind Max. “Whatever they’re paying you… it can’t be worth a life sentence.” Sulley’s partner was a thin man in his 20s with a ready smile on his face and a ready finger on the trigger.
“How original,” Max muttered, reaching again for the cookies. He gritted his teeth and growled as the plate was one again slid out of his reach. “Didn’t they retire the good-cop-bad-cop routine in the 80s or something?”
Sulley ignored his question. “Thirteen city blocks wiped of any kind of advertisement. Billboards wiped clean, logos disappearing… Hell, even tracking cookies disappearing on phones.” He held up a piece of paper in Max’s face. The address in the letterhead read *4401 S Quatar Ave.* He handed the sheet to his partner behind Max. “List the victims if you please, Mitch.”
As Sulley’s partner began to speak, Max absentmindedly reached for a ginger snap. His hand paused above the plate. Something the detective said had caught his attention. “What did you say?” he asked, standing up and turning to face Sulley’s partner.
The partner stepped back, a surprised look on his face. “I—” he looked down at the paper in his hand. “Two billboards for Mcdonalds, thirteen tracking cookies for pornhub.com, two hundred separate instances of advertising for Microsoft, nine—”
“Two hundred,” Max breathed. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. He turned to face Sulley, who was watching him closely, a curious look on his face. “Am I under arrest?”
Sulley didn’t blink. “We have a warrant. Whether we use it or not depends on your cooperation.”
“Am I under arrest as of this moment?”
The detective held Max’s gaze for a moment before then dropped his eyes, glancing at his colleague before slightly shaking his head.
Maximilian raised an eyebrow. “Now isn’t that interesting. A detective, and a high ranking one by your own words, questions a man, threatening jail time, with a warrant for his arrest but doesn’t arrest him. Imagine that. Surely if what you say is true, you have plenty of evidence. Tell me detective, why aren’t we at the police station?”
Sulley scowled, “You made your point, Damo. We can continue this—”
“You know what I think?”
“I couldn’t really care what you think.”
“I think you can’t arrest me,” Max said softly. “I think that warrant is forged or maybe done under the table. I think you’re doing this off the books. Funny how I erase two-hundred Microsoft Ads and the next day two cops show up at my door.”
Not a muscle moved on Sulley’s cheek. “You best be careful son,” he whispered, his voice thick with threatening overtones. “I didn’t lie to you. It’s in your best interest to talk to me.”
“Maybe.” Max shrugged. “But I think not today.” Breaking his gaze with the detective’s, Max reached down, grabbed a ginger snap and strode, unopposed, out the door. “See you round detective.”
\*\*\*
When the Super had left, Mitchell let out a low whistle. “That one’s got a pair between his legs, don’t he?”
Sulley laughed bitterly. “He’s got a noose around his neck is what he’s got.” Rubbing his temples, Sulley attempted to ease the ache that was starting in the back of his head. “
Mitchell said something that Sulley didn’t catch. “What was that, Mitch?” he asked, squinting at his partner.
“You told me this was official work, Tom.”
Sulley dropped his eyes to the floor, clearing his throat. “And so it is. Just not with the NYPD.”
Mitch groaned. “ I don’t want any part of this, Tom.”
“Look Mitch, it’s not gonna be—”
The door to the room suddenly swung open and an out of breath Marie burst through the door, her round-rimmed glasses halfway down her sweaty nose. “He’s gone,” she said.
Mitch frowned. “Calm down girl, who’s gone?”
“The—The Super sir. The tail lost him almost as soon as he left the station.”
Sulley cursed quietly. “Well, we’ll hurry over to the station and check his location.”
Marie shook her head. “I called the office. That’s gone too, sir. As soon as he left, the tracker on his phone just stopped responding.”
Sulley frowned. “How the hell did he even notice...” He trailed off, his own stupidity dawning on him. The boy had been playing with him. “Goddamn Supers,” he cursed, pushing past Marie and into the narrow hallway beyond. “We can argue later, Mitch. There’s not much time now.”
He pulled out the burner phone from his back pocket, dialing with shaking hands. He would need to know.
Someone picked up almost immediately. “Hello?”
“Yeah, Bill,” Sulley said quickly. “We have a problem.”
\*\*\*
*Sweet. Crunchy. Sweet. More. More.*
Maximilian's teeth clicked together as the ginger snap broke between his teeth, flooding his mouth with sugar.
*Snap!* The world around him glitched, and a buzzing filled his ears. The screen on the building to his left blurred then abruptly flicked off. Ronald MacDonald's smiling face stayed as a purplish afterglow in Max’s eyes.
*Snap!* A second Ad disappeared. This time from a skyscraper to his left. Time Square was a dangerous place for him to be, but it was also a place where one could easily lose a tail.
*Snap!* Two of the screens turned off this time. The crowd around him began to slow as a few people took notice, pointing at the dark screens.
Max picked up his pace, eager to get out of the crowd now that he’d lost his tail. Lights flickered and screens went blank in his wake. A few people cursed as their web browsers suddenly crashed.
He raised a hand, hailing a taxi as he broke into a sprint down the busy streets. The yellow cab pulled to a stop, gas billowing around it and mixing with the frosty December air. “Where to?” asked the taxi driver as Max climbed in.
“Take me to 4401 S Quarter Ave,” he said, popping the last bit of ginger snap into his mouth. He closed his eyes as the sugar coated his tongue. The power inside him writhed as if alive. It whispered to him, as the advertised world disappeared before him.
*Sweet. Crunchy. Sweet. More. More.*
They had some work to do. | Life is good. Ever since my awesome superpower activated, I've never had to deal with the soul sucking horror of ads. Everywhere I go, ads cease to exist until after I pass by. I never have to see or hear about the awful garbage that corporations try to trick people into buying with claims of it being new and improved. My senses are no longer assaulted by the offensive cacophony of consumerist brainwashing propaganda. And best of all, I just received a handwritten letter from one of the richest men in the world, offering me ten million dollars a year for life to just stay home. I think I'll buy a condo in Hawaii. | |
[WP] In a world full of supers, you were destined to have a power. Unfortunately, your power is ad-blocking. Every where you go, ads disappear. Form billboards, to signs, to commercials, you never see anything new making life difficult. And the big corporations just deemed you a threat. | Ad Agent: We're paying you $100,000 per year to live on a rural town.
Bob: Do I get free housing, fiber internet, taxes, and electricity?
Ad Agent: Let me see...
Bob: Nope, no deal.
Ad Agent: Wait! Uh, you still have to pay your taxes, and the internet might not be fiber, but everything else is free.
Bob: Hm, not a bad deal. Alright, where do I sign up?
Ad Agent: And can you please not watch popular movies and videos on Netflix and YouTube? They also get disabled while you're watching. We'll notify you if there are any specific videos you can't watch at a specific time?
Bob: Unusually specific, but okay bro. | Life is good. Ever since my awesome superpower activated, I've never had to deal with the soul sucking horror of ads. Everywhere I go, ads cease to exist until after I pass by. I never have to see or hear about the awful garbage that corporations try to trick people into buying with claims of it being new and improved. My senses are no longer assaulted by the offensive cacophony of consumerist brainwashing propaganda. And best of all, I just received a handwritten letter from one of the richest men in the world, offering me ten million dollars a year for life to just stay home. I think I'll buy a condo in Hawaii. | |
Saw this in “two sentence horror stories” and thought y’all could make something good out of it. | [WP] Every time you die, you flash back to 10 seconds before so you can try to save yourself. Unfortunately, the fall was 11 seconds. | The water below me swirls and crashes and flows below me, stunning when so out of reach from the railing of a bridge. For a close look however, it was a sea of concrete. From the moment my toes left the railing in the sky, the pit in my stomach sank to the rush of blue and black faster than my body. Again. And again. And again.
I don't know why, I don't know if this was supposed to be a curse or blessing, a wish for life I made as a joke once now twisted to an endless punishment, maybe this was my endless punishment as designed, experiencing the same last 10 seconds of my life over and over and over again, ledge always just out of reach and no others on the rest of the way down to even pretend I had hope.
All I know is the rush and whistle of the wind, the slap as I land gently below, and then the fall again. Even a perfectly aerodynamic pencil dive doesn't shorten the time it takes to go splat enough to be reset closer to the edge, it's an endless, inevitable loop.
Then, I stop. Midair I freeze, every hair exactly where it was when in motion. I feel dizzy, excited. Was this punishment over? I hear a shout above me, "hey there. You need a hand?" I wanted to say yes, I wanted to plead for anything to get me out of this endless torture, but I was stuck in a single moment instead of 10, suspended over my doom.
"Ah, yes, sorry" and I was falling again. I screamed for the first time in forever, but to my vocal cords it wasn't that long ago.
I scrambled for purchase more than I had before, but now with words more than physically. Well, there was a little bit of grabbing for the railing again, but mostly that begging for help I was wanting to do. I guess he was waiting for me to turn around and face him, because as soon as I managed I froze again.
He was largely nondescript, like you would expect a god of time would look while blending in with the mortals, a simple jacket and jeans, a keychain swinging around his finger. "So, you having fun yet? You wanna get off this ride?"
I wanted to yell so much shit at him, how he had the power to stop this apparently but did nothing but toy with me, of course I wanted off of this ride. And I did yell all that at him. His already haughty grin widened and he laughed. "Ok, ok. Just know I wasn't the one to do this to you in the first place." He reached into his jacket. "I would like to get on with my life without your broken record of a death making that impossible, so here." He pulled out a handgun and pointed it at me. "Just be more careful next time, alright?" With my ears still ringing from the trigger pull, I made out his final words to me. "If I wasn't already in town, I never would have found you. Wouldn't that be annoying."
I felt my stomach drop as time resumed, then the worst headache I ever felt, then, solid land suspended over a sea of what might as well be concrete, swirling and crashing as it flowed below me, so out of reach, so beautiful. But my hands were firmly on the rails this time, and I will not be going over them again. | But my god I'm alive. I am not sure how or why I got into this loop and why it is so short though. Is this something that has been done to trick me by a human or is this a reality of existence? Do we always flash back to a new life? Do we flash back as a new person with no memories? Do we flash to a new dimension where we have a different fate and pick up where we left off in order to keep our time of death correct? Is the system supposed to distract me down a different path in the ten seconds? Have I found a glitch in the system? Just my luck. If this was how we start a new life I would've thought it would be longer than ten seconds. Was my fate somehow crossed on this death. Did I end up with the fate of a sperm who hit a wall of spermicides? This has to be a glitch in whatever this system is. I know it is something because I am having thoughts. I look closely every time for slight changes in the hopes that each fall is happening in a new time in space. Hoping that each replay can have variables. Maybe one of them I get lucky and fall just as a truck full of pillows goes by or a movie is filming a stunt and there is a big airbag to land on. It is just a matter of time and I am safe here. I can't get sick and die so I am in storage till I land just right. But does the system self correct and am I nothing more than a memory leak in a self correcting system waiting to be found and deleted forever. This fear has become far greater than the fall itself. The fall I have come to embrace. The fall that showed me I am immortal. I fear not waking up to that fall......... |
Saw this in “two sentence horror stories” and thought y’all could make something good out of it. | [WP] Every time you die, you flash back to 10 seconds before so you can try to save yourself. Unfortunately, the fall was 11 seconds. | The water below me swirls and crashes and flows below me, stunning when so out of reach from the railing of a bridge. For a close look however, it was a sea of concrete. From the moment my toes left the railing in the sky, the pit in my stomach sank to the rush of blue and black faster than my body. Again. And again. And again.
I don't know why, I don't know if this was supposed to be a curse or blessing, a wish for life I made as a joke once now twisted to an endless punishment, maybe this was my endless punishment as designed, experiencing the same last 10 seconds of my life over and over and over again, ledge always just out of reach and no others on the rest of the way down to even pretend I had hope.
All I know is the rush and whistle of the wind, the slap as I land gently below, and then the fall again. Even a perfectly aerodynamic pencil dive doesn't shorten the time it takes to go splat enough to be reset closer to the edge, it's an endless, inevitable loop.
Then, I stop. Midair I freeze, every hair exactly where it was when in motion. I feel dizzy, excited. Was this punishment over? I hear a shout above me, "hey there. You need a hand?" I wanted to say yes, I wanted to plead for anything to get me out of this endless torture, but I was stuck in a single moment instead of 10, suspended over my doom.
"Ah, yes, sorry" and I was falling again. I screamed for the first time in forever, but to my vocal cords it wasn't that long ago.
I scrambled for purchase more than I had before, but now with words more than physically. Well, there was a little bit of grabbing for the railing again, but mostly that begging for help I was wanting to do. I guess he was waiting for me to turn around and face him, because as soon as I managed I froze again.
He was largely nondescript, like you would expect a god of time would look while blending in with the mortals, a simple jacket and jeans, a keychain swinging around his finger. "So, you having fun yet? You wanna get off this ride?"
I wanted to yell so much shit at him, how he had the power to stop this apparently but did nothing but toy with me, of course I wanted off of this ride. And I did yell all that at him. His already haughty grin widened and he laughed. "Ok, ok. Just know I wasn't the one to do this to you in the first place." He reached into his jacket. "I would like to get on with my life without your broken record of a death making that impossible, so here." He pulled out a handgun and pointed it at me. "Just be more careful next time, alright?" With my ears still ringing from the trigger pull, I made out his final words to me. "If I wasn't already in town, I never would have found you. Wouldn't that be annoying."
I felt my stomach drop as time resumed, then the worst headache I ever felt, then, solid land suspended over a sea of what might as well be concrete, swirling and crashing as it flowed below me, so out of reach, so beautiful. But my hands were firmly on the rails this time, and I will not be going over them again. | I fall a lot. Well, I'm always falling. Everyone gets one chance to go back ten seconds and try to not die. My fall was eleven seconds, so I'm kinda screwed.
It gets boring. I tried to stop it. Didn't work. A whole lot of ledges, none of them close enough to grab. Close enough for false hope, though. Eventually I got used to it. Nothing I can do to save my life anymore. I have to rely on the interference of other people.
I only figured that out recently, so I haven't tried it. I'm holding out hope, but not much. I got used to dying, came to terms with it and everything. This is acceptable at this point.
Since there's nothing else to really do, I do a lot of thinking. Mostly about things I can remember. I had a family. I don't remember my mom much, but I remember my dad. He was gruff and didn't talk much. I had a girlfriend. I was planning on proposing, but this whole death thing really gets in the way.
At this point there's not much I can do. I can just wait for death and wait to come back. By now I've come to terms with my limbo, so I just... wait for the next one. |
Saw this in “two sentence horror stories” and thought y’all could make something good out of it. | [WP] Every time you die, you flash back to 10 seconds before so you can try to save yourself. Unfortunately, the fall was 11 seconds. | I see the ledge appear again just out of my reach.
​
It didn't happen instantly I got to feel the impact each time.
1
Each time I felt a pain that made me wish it would end.
1 m
I twisting and contorting my body as I hit the ground only prevented the pain for fractions of a second.
1mi
I wanted to give up.
1mi
I wished it would end.
1 mi
But a voice inside me told me wishing wouldn't help.
1mis
Wishing that I hadn't fallen wouldn't help.
1 mis
Wishing I didn't have this power that sent me back in time wouldn't help.
1 mis
It whispered 2 things kept me sane.
1 miss
The first was that people had survived falling from much higher.
1 missi
33,000 feet was the record. Surely I could survive an 11 second fall if someone survived that
1 mississ
The second was that I was getting better at landing.
1 mississippi 2 mis | I fall a lot. Well, I'm always falling. Everyone gets one chance to go back ten seconds and try to not die. My fall was eleven seconds, so I'm kinda screwed.
It gets boring. I tried to stop it. Didn't work. A whole lot of ledges, none of them close enough to grab. Close enough for false hope, though. Eventually I got used to it. Nothing I can do to save my life anymore. I have to rely on the interference of other people.
I only figured that out recently, so I haven't tried it. I'm holding out hope, but not much. I got used to dying, came to terms with it and everything. This is acceptable at this point.
Since there's nothing else to really do, I do a lot of thinking. Mostly about things I can remember. I had a family. I don't remember my mom much, but I remember my dad. He was gruff and didn't talk much. I had a girlfriend. I was planning on proposing, but this whole death thing really gets in the way.
At this point there's not much I can do. I can just wait for death and wait to come back. By now I've come to terms with my limbo, so I just... wait for the next one. |
Saw this in “two sentence horror stories” and thought y’all could make something good out of it. | [WP] Every time you die, you flash back to 10 seconds before so you can try to save yourself. Unfortunately, the fall was 11 seconds. | I’ll give Maulter this much. The bastard is creative in his punishments. Sure, being an immortal sorcerer can benefit from annoying an equally immortal gunslinger. You may be asking yourself, “Randal, how did you get into this position in the first place? And how are you going to save yourself?”
To answer the less death-imminent question first, my partner Shaun Maulter and I, the excellent Sorcerer of the Red Hills, have been in a prank war for the past year. He starts some sick joke; I end it with a bang. A couple of months ago, it was a whole bed full of Ragnarok spiders. Then, to up the ante (as if the spiders weren’t bad enough), the sly bastard rigged my entire lab to explode with methane gas.
Course, we’re both immortal (well, I can’t die, and he can’t live, long story, probably tell you later), so these pranks don’t hurt as much. But not tonight. Oohohoho no. Tonight? Maulter was in an awful movie. We had just missed the target we had been hunting for months now. The cult of the damned leader just waved at us as his ship left the harbor. And we couldn’t do anything.
To try and lighten the mood, I figured I’d crack a few jokes. Tell him of the raging parties near Habetias. He was not good to hear of food, women, and wine. One trick too far, and the lug nut stuffed my soul shard, the thing that keeps me from dying above a cliffside. So every time I fall, I get reanimated above the cliff and fall to my demise aga-
*Splat*
Wait for it.
*Poof*
There we go. Now, the first 13 resurrections sucked, but nothing j hadn’t handled before. After that, it got relatively dull. But, I am a sorcerer who’s solved incurable curses, defeated a dragon, and unlocked the traveling powers of a Ley Line. Surely I can stop myself from getting impaled on a bunch of rocks at the bottom of this cliff. You’d think that, especially after the next ten resurrections. I tried grabbing onto the ridge, creating a magic lasso to the thing holding my soul shard, and even opening a portal.
I am just a tad too slow with all of that. But with enough focus, I can-
Ohhhhhh, so that’s what the gunslinger wanted me to figure out. We were too slow to catch the guy! Man, when Maulter figures out a way to tell me something, he really can’t find a simple way of-
*Splat*
*Poof*
I wonder if he’s coming back to grab me. Eh, whatever. Just cause I’m afraid of heights doesn’t mean I’m scared of death. Oh! Maybe if Maulter doesn’t come back, Julai will find me. If anyone can pull my sad arse off this cliffside, it’d be her.
Now, as much as I’d enjoy talking to you, my oh-so-wonderful fourth wall break entity that I’m not insane for talking to, I’m going to go back to figuring out how not to die.
FOR SCIE-
*Splat* | I fall a lot. Well, I'm always falling. Everyone gets one chance to go back ten seconds and try to not die. My fall was eleven seconds, so I'm kinda screwed.
It gets boring. I tried to stop it. Didn't work. A whole lot of ledges, none of them close enough to grab. Close enough for false hope, though. Eventually I got used to it. Nothing I can do to save my life anymore. I have to rely on the interference of other people.
I only figured that out recently, so I haven't tried it. I'm holding out hope, but not much. I got used to dying, came to terms with it and everything. This is acceptable at this point.
Since there's nothing else to really do, I do a lot of thinking. Mostly about things I can remember. I had a family. I don't remember my mom much, but I remember my dad. He was gruff and didn't talk much. I had a girlfriend. I was planning on proposing, but this whole death thing really gets in the way.
At this point there's not much I can do. I can just wait for death and wait to come back. By now I've come to terms with my limbo, so I just... wait for the next one. |
Saw this in “two sentence horror stories” and thought y’all could make something good out of it. | [WP] Every time you die, you flash back to 10 seconds before so you can try to save yourself. Unfortunately, the fall was 11 seconds. | Do you know what the air sounds like when it stands still, blows gently; a simple, tame breeze rather than an unending storm?
\*\*\*
Because I don't.
I did at one point, I think. It was one of my favorite things to sit in the park when the weather was like that, calm and gentle, cool and forgiving.
\*\*\*
I could hear the birds, too, when the wind was like that. I heard the ground beneath my feet, the gentle ripples in the river, the whisper of the trees, leaves swaying softly.
\*\*\*
I can't hear anything anymore, really. Just a constant storm, an endless whirlwind. I guess when I thought of falling, it was the impact that came to mind, the unstoppable collision with the earth, the end of your journey.
\*\*\*
But that clash with gravity only lasts for an instant, a single, terrifying shock that is there and then gone. It's the fall that's the hard part -- the inescapable pull of gravity, the knowledge of what comes next, the fear of finally reaching the bottom.
\*\*\*
It feels like eternity, falling. There are too many thoughts racing through my head to be contained in seconds, too many emotions and fears colliding for any rational thought to prevail. But even without that, it takes a long time to fall this far.
\*\*\*
11 seconds, to be precise. 11 seconds of terror and acceptance and remorse, 11 seconds of regret and panic and despair. And I guess that means it really is eternity.
\*\*\*
Every time it rewinds, I'm so close to the ledge. Every time, I fool myself into thinking that if I can just reach up, I can grab it, haul myself to safety, stop this cycle of madness.
\*\*\*
But every time it rushes right past me, leaving only an outstretched arm, a shattered hope. But by the time I hit the bottom, those pieces are already pulling themselves back together, forcing my arm up again, convincing me that this time, this time I can make it.
\*\*\*
I can't. It rushes by me every time. I can't hold on or reach out and so the only thing I do is fall, down into the ground, down into the air as time reworks itself for me.
\*\*\*
The wind is a storm in my ears as I plunge through it, blocking out all other sounds. I hear nothing and everything and then nothing again.
\*\*\*
All I can do is hope that this time, maybe this time, the fall will be less then 10 seconds.
\*\*\*
>If you enjoyed, r/StoriesOfAshes is home to more of my writing!
>
>Also, I currently have an ongoing serial called [\[A Game of Chess\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/redditserials/comments/re223x/a_game_of_chess_chapter_1/) on r/redditserials. I'd really appreciate it if you'd check it out! | I wince as I feel my fall restart, trying desperately to grab onto a balcony, a window frame, anything, as I fall past. It’s useless, though, so I shut my eyes, curling into a ball and trying to position myself so I can land on my knees. Maybe I can survive if I just try harder. Maybe this time. I know it won’t work, despite my hope. I’ve been through this thousands of times, maybe millions, and I’ve never changed the outcome. Well, there’s one difference. I retain all my injuries. My body isn’t regenerated as I skip back to the beginning of my fall. I shouldn’t be alive, I can’t be alive. I’m little more than a pile of bone fragments loosely held together by sinew and skin at this point. Still, I try to pull myself in more this time, speeding up my fall and screaming with lungs that no longer exist as I hit the pavement. Maybe when I finally can’t be put back together again, whatever cruel god is taunting me will tire of this.
(Sorry for formatting (or lack thereof) - I’m on mobile.) |
[WP] Wizards have the same trust in magic that software designers have in software, which is to say, almost none at all. | "Telemechus, come look at this!"
"What?"
"Take a look at this glyph."
"Negative Zone? What on earth is that?"
"Hell if I know, but the glyph is used as a compound part of 20 different spells I've been able to find so far. From healing pool to dome of warding. Something to do with ... uh ... an area, I guess. That's not the point, look here!"
"Bartleby, I can hardly copy down a mana cup glyph, you're going to have to help me out here."
"Ok, what about this one?"
"Sending? Yeah, I've cast that before. Send a message to someone, yeah?"
"Now look again at Negative Zone. This area here. It crosses over a bit, but -"
"It's the same..."
"Exactly! I'm pretty sure whenever anyone casts Negative Zone, or any of the derivative spells, this part is sending out a message to someone. Or something. It look like it's going off-plane."
"That's huge, Bartleby! What can we do about it? Have you tried casting any of the spells after removing the sending glyph?"
"Yeah, they stop working." | Dressed up and annoyed, burgers were plowing their way through the myriad of lights floating in the air of the ornately decorated Town Square. At least the light mages had some sense to turn the lights yellow and white from the usual blue. One such light had collided with my velvet-clad chest and burst into sparkles, leaving a fading phrase in its wake: "Gustave's Bakes: best breads and celebratory bakes in town!"
I rolled my eyes and blew at the stamp, speeding up its disappearance.
"How festive", muttered Aless d'Alevtis, a fellow mage of the Automata Guild, and yours truly octave.
I sensed that morale was going down steadily at the octave recently but I myself was all but drained and eager to enjoy the upcoming Fast, an entirely too short period of quiet right after the roaring end-of-year fete. The majority of the townsfolk begrudgingly fasted as a way to subdue their carnal desires, I took it further and blocked not out only the magickal element, but abstained from any human contact entirely by taking my two-week exile to a monastery ruin two days of travel away. I suspected the guild master knew I was simply enjoying my peace instead of reflecting on my sins, but she also knew the weakness of human nature and allowed me it, wise woman.
I slipped on the cobblestone and realized Aless was talking all this time "…would think that they would understand every burger and serf is inundated with the beacon lights seeing it by the thousands daily by now…"
I nodded slowly, pacing myself. The whole guild feast was awaiting our arrival and I did not want to get angry too early. While downing three pints of the fiery cinnamon ale and getting rowdy at the end of the feast where guildfolk would let a little loose seemed like quite a pleasant idea.
"The Manufacturers…", said Aless, and that caught my attention as a guild certified Manufacturer. I glanced at Aless and he hastily wrapped up whatever insult he had in mind: "…are not thinking straight."
I sighed. We did, in fact, think straight. Too straight. That was the crux of a problem. Every silly idea of anyone in the guild immediately made its way to the magickal octaves and, woven in the fabric of their beautiful runes, became reality. Magickal, but reality.
Magickal trebuchets in the times of peace? Made by the dozen, sold to every feuf and now rotting under the elements. Magickal counters of the feuf financials? Admittedly a useful idea if only it talked magickally with all the other magickal financial contraptions of the county. Magickal hourglass to count one's food for gout prevention — so smart, yet so ultimately useless, for the pages forgot to count the grains of sand for their nobles.
These days we produced magickal everything and anything, and perhaps being showered by magickal everything and anything as if by an incessant rain of toads was our punishment. Aless was right, inundation was the apt word.
I said everyone was producing these ideas but I blamed us Manufacturers the most. For who else would know best when not to turn another grand idea into magick if not us? Was it not our role to ask as a sentry, not "Can we?", but "Should we?"
Another light ball burst into sparkles right into my face. I cursed under my breath. We neared the feast hall, but my mood was too sour for all the roast that awaited us.
I decided to start with the pints and expedite the scuffle. | |
[WP] Wizards have the same trust in magic that software designers have in software, which is to say, almost none at all. | Renowned Magician Jornithix Levekul stood at the edge of a crater where moments prior a farmhouse had been, trying to account for what exactly had gone wrong. He had no serious hope that figuring it out would bring the house back, but it might at least prevent such mistakes from happening in the future.
"So," said his apprentice, Kaia, "is this a 'try to explain and make things right' situation, or a 'skip town and try to forget this ever happened' situation?"
"You're distracting me," grumbled Jorn.
"Sorry. I'll let you get back to gawking impotently at the consequences of your hubris."
"Thank you."
Kaia strolled back to their cart and leaned against it to wait.
Jorn pulled the scroll from under his arm and unfurled it. He reviewed the twisting, turning, swooping, swirling, sometimes smooth, sometimes jagged lines of the Rune circle. It was a visual language he understood as well as the average person understood a painting by its brushstrokes.
At least, he thought he did. He'd had no qualms with promising Farmer Jenko that he'd stop by the farmhouse on the way out of town and cast a spell of mending on the porch. It was a trivial matter. He'd done it a thousand times. So, what had happened?
In most such cases, it was a matter of a misplaced line, or improper activation. Syntax or execution. But he'd used this scroll before, many times... which may also have been an issue. A well-used scroll tended to lose its potency, as the active reagents woven into the ink and parchment were soaked up with each subsequent cast. Sometimes it was as simple as improper storage or handling, and...
... the ink *could smudge.* "Aha!" exclaimed Jorn. He jabbed at the scroll with his finger, looking over his shoulder toward Kaia. "Here it is! There's a smudge on the octarchal orbis, between the dalkovin binding and the pakorvin binding. You see, this Ordo glyph is smeared a bit, and has activated as though it's an Aer glyph!"
"Nice work. So, why'd the house disappear?" Kaia asked.
"Because the spell is wrong," Jorn answered impatiently. She had a good point, though. Why *had* the house disappeared? Such a simple alteration would normally render the spell inert, rather than change the effect to something so bizarre.
The smudged glyph was at a rather important conjunction of lines, though. He squinted at it... Then held the scroll at arm's length trying to get the full picture. Taking the whole spell in then, knowing the error, it was suddenly obvious.
"Oh," he said. Then he looked up. "*Oh.*"
Jorn turned began to sprint, his oversized robes making a chore of it. Magicians were not meant for sprinting. He shouted at Kaia, "RUN!"
Kaia seemed to understand the urgency of the command by the look on Jorn's face. She ran.
The two of them had made it a good twenty yards or so when the house, and a bowl of displaced earth attached to its bottom, came crashing down directly on top of Jorn's cart with a deafening *crash*. The entire structure collapsed and shattered in a hail of boards, splinters, furniture, glass, and Farmer Jenko's prized collection of rooster figurines.
Jorn and Kaia dived to the ground, covering themselves as the torrent of ruin soared or skipped past them, or lodged in the dirt nearby. Jorn chanced a peek just in time to dodge an incoming brass rooster, which embedded into the dirt right where his face had been.
As the chaos subsided, the magician and his apprentice climbed cautiously to their feet. There was a long silence then, as the both of them stared at the ruins of the house, and of Jorn's cart.
Jorn turned to Kaia. "This is a 'skip town' situation."
\---/r/acstuartwrites | The clock that marked the seconds until the end of time sat upon a dreary yellow wall. So utterly depressing was that faded yellow paper that until recently it had been hidden behind a large oak bookshelf, it’s edges just barely visible in the crevice between it and the other great shelves that lined the floors and ceilings of the cavernous room. The Great Wizard had, some four hundred years ago, placed the shelf there himself, hoping to forget about the wallpaper and the clock.
He had almost succeeded.
Unfortunately, the clock that marked the seconds until the end of time had a persistent tick that, when the sounds of life faded, would whisper portentous prophecies into the room. For four hundred years, the Great Wizard ignored that toll—his ears stuffed with bits of cotton and threadbare wool—until, one day, the whispers had stopped and been replaced with the more moderate, more worrisome, tick that a clock its age should've had in the first place.
Now the Great Wizard sat in his fur-lined leather chair and watched the dreary yellow wall, his eyes pointedly avoiding the clock. His companion, a red-plumed phoenix, stood upon a sinuous wooden pedestal, it’s beady eyes also fixed firmly on the dreary yellow wall.
“Not straight!” spoke the bird with a voice as pure as a single stroke of a well-tuned harp. Its tone held an arrogance that only a bird of its pedigree would dare to have.
The Great Wizard frowned, tilting his head as he briefly glanced at the clock. “Is so,” he said grumpily, his voice like the growl of thunder.
He had made the spell himself. He had spent four hundred runes, ten thousands Words of Power, and countless hours of his time making sure the clock was straight. If he was off by even the smallest fraction, then time itself would cease to exist.
“I’ve made certain,” he whispered, his eyes once again flicking to the clock. This time he studied the lines, looking for any indication that the smooth lines and gentle curves were out of place. “Certain…”
Magic was, contrary to the bards, a finicky thing, more often than not refusing to do what you told it too. As an apprentice, the Great Wizard had once spent countless hours trying to figure out why a certain rune refused to work only to discover that he used the wrong type of ink. Over a long career, he had struggled with spells both simple and unfathomably complex that would both fail with equal likelihood. And so he had learned to distrust his own work with a frantic fervor that had served him better than any spell book ever had.
As a result of this general distrust, he paradoxically held a confidence in his work on the clock. He was confident that he had taken every precaution possible.
But…
“Not straight,” spoke the bird, startling the wizard, who, for a moment, turned his head from the wall. The bird’s beak barely moved as it spoke, its neck and throat and head held so straight that a passerby might mistake the mythical beast as some sort of fanciful trophy.
“I say it—” And then with a *tick* the clock that marked the seconds until the end of time struck twelve.
With a shout of alarm the Great Wizard turned back to the clock and held his breath…
And a second past the Great Wizard still breathed.
He immediately jumped to his feet, bellowing in joy. “Straight!” He turned to face the red-plumed bird, a smug look on his face. “Straight!”
The bird watched him, head cocked, but refused to speak.
“I told you,” the wizard repeated, less convinced this time.
Still the bird refused to speak, its eyes still fixed behind the wizard.
Too scared to turn, the Great Wizard stared into his companions eyes and choked, his face becoming a sickly white. For in the two black pools of his companion he saw a crooked clock on a dreary yellow wall.
“Not straight,” he whispered.
*Tick*.
And so the universe ceased to exist, replaced by a night that rippled gently in two pools of black. And in the black sat the crooked clock on the dreary yellow wall. | |
[WP] The hero shows up at the villains doorstep in the middle of the night, beat up and weak, when the villain opens the door the hero weakly says,”I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go” | “Tariel? Where in the hell have you been?!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
“Listen Zorro,” Tariel replied, holding onto his broken arm. His golden suit was wrecked, covered in soot and scars. He was limping ever so slightly, and looked at me with only one clean eye. The other was swollen shut by a massive bruise. “We don’t have much time. I know we have been mortal enemies in the past, but I-“
Before he could get any further, I grabbed him and hugged. “I have missed you so much!”
“Uh, what?” Tariel stuttered.
I pulled away. “Do you have any idea how utterly BORING it is without you to squash one of my plots?! I come up with some evil plan, and it comes true! It’s no fun anymore! For the past year you’ve been missing and I’ve looked everywhere for you! Oh happy days we can get back to our usual schedule!”
“Zorro…?” Tariel started, but he got no further as I continued ranting.
“We gotta make it official! We need to make it look legit. OH! I know! Hit me! Hit me with your golden power and we can convince those duds in the UN that you’re alive!” I grabbed a boxing glove made of steel from a nearby workbench. There were plenty of those in my lair. “Here, use this!”
Tariel pushed the glove aside. “Zorro, this isn’t-“
“Too simple? You’re right!” I went off again. I ran behind a counter and grabbed a laser rifle. “It would be much more fitting if you shot me! Yes! That way we can-“
“I NEED YOUR HELP!” Tariel yelled, grimacing in pain.
I lowered the rifle. “Say what now?”
Tariel limped over to a nearby chair, and almost fell to the ground. I rushed over to catch him and ease him into the chair. Despite being my Rival, he was essentially my best friend. But…something was off about him. “Tariel, what happened?”
He looked up at me. For the first time, I didn’t see the hero who always thwarted my plots…I saw a broken man. Someone who had been through hell. “I was called to fight something…” he began. “Something from where I got my powers from.”
“What, your golden realm of light that heals all it touches?” I asked, with a bit of snide in my voice. I cleared my throat to try and cover that up.
“It’s not light…” Tariel stuttered. “It’s not at all what I thought it was…and that **thing…** I don’t know what it was.”
“Thing?” I asked. I clapped my hands for one of my robotic minions to pull up a chair. As I sat down, two other drones floated up to my rival and began dressing his wounds. “What happened?”
Tariel coughed. “My power comes not from a realm of light..,but one of darkness. A Void of energy. And I was taken by some kind of…entity.”
“Wait so all this time your power was evil?” I stuttered. Fear crept down the back of my spine like a bug.
“That’s not the worst part. There’s more.” Tariel spoke. “I’ve lost my power fighting this thing…and I think it wants to come to our world. We can’t let that happen Zorro…” his voice broke. For the first time, after years of fighting me…I’ve never once seen Tariel afraid.
“Tariel?” I asked, fear creeping into my voice. “What’s coming?”
He looked me dead in the eyes. “If the guy who saved me is to be believed… The Entity is sending a Voidborn…” | batman: "i didn't know where else to go" he says with a cough
joker: \*starts to laugh manically "you know how easy it would be to kill you right now, how easy it is to hit you over and over again how easy it would be... to kiss you \*the joker blushes
batman: "oh joker, i didnt think you liked me like that"
joker: "oh... you hate me don't you"
batman: "no, no of - \*coughs up blood\* of course not, in fact... i like you too.."
joker: "ooh batman"
batman "ooh - \*cough\* joker"
they pull each other closer start kissing intently, \*harley quinn walks in
harley: "yo what the fuck, whats going on -\* gets shot\*
joker: "shut your yammering women i never liked you, i only let you be mine to make batman jelous", they go back to kissing...\* 3 hours later\*
joker:"that was fun ol bat"
...
joker: "batman?"
...
joker:"bat??"
...
\*joker try's to wake up batman... but to no avail,
joker: "NOOOOOO, HES DEAD, FUCKING HELL"
the end | |
[WP] After billions of dollars invested, and decades of research, the most powerful corporate executives in the world have finally done it. They've finally ended the need for humans to sleep. | I didn’t mean to start a revolution, I really didn’t.
How simply it began. One question, only asked out of courtesy.
“Congratulations Mr. President, you’re having a boy,” the doctor had said, rubbing the ultrasound device over my wife’s growing belly. “Shall we run the Sleep Cure edit today? It’s quick, I’ll get you both out of here in time for a nice big brunch.”
Well, it wasn’t the question, not really. It was my answer.
I didn’t say no because I didn’t trust new technology, like some crazy anti-curer; my entire political platform was based off technological innovation. I didn’t say no because of the challenges of raising a sleepless child; I was the President, I could do anything. I didn’t say no because I didn’t think it worked; a billion babies had proven it a billion times, including my own now four-year-old daughter, Eliza.
It was because of her that I said no.
For most of my life, I’d hated myself for not being born just a few years later. The “Sleep Cure” gene-editing technology was invented when I was just seven. The biggest corporations in the world heralded a new era of productivity for the world. Soon, humanity would be free from the biological shackles of tiredness, drowsiness, and wasted life we called _sleep_.
And it couldn’t come fast enough. These corporations poured hundreds of billions of dollars into the initiative, subsidizing the gene-editing procedure so that anyone and everyone anywhere in the world that wanted to free their children from _sleep_ could do so.
Many more billions were poured into the ads too. How could any responsible parent, no matter how skeptical, risk having their children cursed by to the need to _sleep_ in a world where all their peers had eight more hours every single day to out-compete them?
The campaign was more than a resounding success. Within five years, nearly 70% of the world’s new babies were born with the Sleep Cure, and growing every year.
Productive the Sleep Cured were. Relentlessly productive. There were even Cured eleven-year-olds at my own high-school graduation.
True to those advertisements, lacking the Sleep Cure lead to severe disadvantages, even outright discrimination. Schools and employers openly rejected those with the need to _sleep_. Even I am guilty here – in building my campaign team, I couldn’t imagine hiring anyone slowed down by _sleep_. Hypocritical, I know. If it weren’t for the age requirement to become President, there’s no way anyone like me could have even had a chance in office. The Cured were just superior humans.
At least, that’s what I thought until I had Eliza. She revealed something to me I can’t believe I’d missed, I can’t believe the whole world seems to have missed. For as wonderful and special and as incredibly intelligent and beautiful as any father knows their daughter is, there is something wrong with her. Oh my God how it pains me to admit this.
Give her a puzzle, and she’ll figure it out it like any child. Put on a children’s TV show, and she’ll laugh at the jokes like any child. Tag her, and she’ll tag you back like any child.
Ask her to pretend to fly, though, and the confusion on her face is unlike the children from before the Cure. Put simply, she can’t play.
A punch to the gut, a nauseating fear, an internal scream. What had I done to my daughter?
What about all the Cured members of my campaign team? Productive? Efficient? Relentless. Yes. Fun? Playful? Creative? No. Oh God, no. When was the last time I’d heard a teammate make a joke? When was the last time anyone on my team had come up with an original idea? Oh no.
With the loss of their need to sleep came the loss of their ability to _dream_.
I’d become the President by inspiring people with my visions, my _dreams_, for the future. What would happen to future generations without dreamers like me? They’d be productive, but would they produce anything that mattered? We needed dreamers like the President, and now the President’s son.
While my accidental revolution embodies these ideals, I’ve never voiced them. All I’ve ever really said was no. | One of humanity’s great loves is sleep. Any competent C-suite executive would tell you that that’s one-third of the day gone to waste—no productivity, no advertising, and no exploited labour.
Like most other things in the world, billions of dollars were thrown at a potential solution to this not-a-problem. And like most other things, billions of dollars helped expedite the process to wean a human being off sleep, to turn wakeful nights into the norm.
And it worked. Through a simple procedure of brain surgery with but a one percent rate of death—an acceptable exchange for a 33 percent increase in time awake—one could become entirely independent of blessed sleep.
Executive were delighted, and readily patted each other on the backs while cashing extra checks for themselves. The short-term gains were immense, after all.
But of course, there were side effects. The human body was designed to have eight hours of rest. More importantly, modern society predicated these people to simply *not* have the time to think about their current state of existence, which included an exhausted collapse into bed.
Now, so many found themselves with too much time on their hands.
Questions such as “what am I doing with my life” and “this job is bullshit” transformed from a thought easily pushed aside by tiredness, to a constant buzzing in one’s mind. Time, instead of a valuable resource capitalized by capitalism, became something one could use. The first act of rebellion, arguably, was somebody walking to a restaurant, actually sitting down and eating, instead of calling for delivery because they “didn’t have enough time.”
Then, there were the middle managers, who already had nothing to do, but now have more time to have nothing to do with, and think a lot about how much nothing they had to do. Many of them, surprisingly, began to take up actually worthwhile hobbies that created inspiration instead of sucked life from others.
One of humanity’s great loves is sleep. Without sleep, that love has to be diverted somewhere, freeing the caged mind and heart of a human being.
Well, that’s an ideal world. In another world, everybody just added more hours to their time card and got paid the same.
There are millions of divergent veins in between those paths, but these are the two thick branches. When you can look at the end—like I do—it’s easy to choose.
But if it’s just taking a next step, where would you place it?
---
r/dexdrafts | |
[WP] Humanity thought they knew enough to study black holes in space. One day a researcher discovers they knew nothing, because instead of being matter consuming voids, it turns out black holes are just the way that advanced civilizations cloak themselves from view. | It's a funny thing really.
We ridicule ostriches for sticking their heads into the ground whenever they feel threatened. It's endearing and tik-tok'd when children haphazardly hide themselves behind curtains or sofas. Our young sons and daughters giggle and laugh, thinking that because they can't see us, we cannot see them.
If I can't see the other person, they can't see me - a childish thought.
If I can't see the other person, there is nothing there - why has this never been considered equally outlandish.
We sent probes into blackholes in a futile attempt to ascertain what was contained within. When the spacecrafts and machinery inside were crushed to less than atoms, scientists raved about the power of absolute gravity. One young scholar did hesitantly posit that maybe there was something else that was obliterating our cameras. She was mocked, ridiculed and never seen again at subsequent conferences.
It turned out that advanced civilizations had very convincing reasons for masking their presence and hiding themselves away. They viewed other developed cultures as deadly threats; perhaps they had been forced to overcome invasions and wars to develop as they did. We were certainly viewed as threats with our constant inspection and exploration of their cloaking devices. It's a pity that we weren't as developed as they had suspected. Had humans been more advanced, we might have been able to interpret the warning signals the alien race began emitting after another one of our probes was crushed into oblivion.
I think they were simply too smart to ever think that perhaps humans harbored no ill-intent. That we just believed that if we couldn't see anything there, it meant that nothing was there.
When children are "found" hiding behind curtains, the game is restarted. This was no game. By the time one of our researchers discovered that the black holes were hiding something within, it was because the aliens had decided it was time to announce themselves and end things.
I sit here writing out my thoughts in a journal that no one is ever likely to read, but I cannot help but laugh at humanity's hubris and the irony of it all. We had truly just wanted to know what was inside these black holes. | It was 2105 when the first probes reached the event horizon. Exceptionally shielded from radiation and the intense pressure of gravity, they were to scan as closely as they could and maintain a regular connection with the *Daedalus*, a computer-operated "FTL relay ship" that pinged a binary signal back at Earth through high frequency bands.
It was supposed to be a wonderful day for the sciences. Understanding more about black holes and theorized singularities throughout space. Director Lakshmi Argawal thought so, at least. She got confirmation of the probe being in place three days after it has arrived in position outside of "The Maelstrom", the Mercury-sized black hole 89 light years from Earth.
The next morning, Dr. Argawal woke in a white room, her feet gliding off of the floor when she found herself weightless. The doctor panicked. A purple-red flame erupted from the floor before her. Deep inside of the glowing, incandescent fire, something she couldn't see unmistakably surveyed her, and she found herself awake in her home.
Outside, the Daedalus lay in the field along with a probe turned to glass. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The real meaning of war
“ Hush child. Give them a moment. Not everyone has as strong a stomach as you.” Ms Thomson allowed a small comforting smile to pass over her lips as she extended her hand with a ceramic pitcher of water, her age adding only a small tremble to the heavy weight. Here Anna, take this to them and let them wash the taste of bile from their mouths. And then get them back to the table.
“Now then let this be a reminder to the rest of you of why most of us eat so little on first night. These things must be taught. They must be remembered. But they are not conducive to a full stomach.
“Alright, everyone back? Then let us begin the Second Rite of Christmas. Cindy, Thomas, go ahead and light the second candles and we shall speak of Madison Smith-Alvarez, 48th President of Merica, Hero of The Greens. The Betrayer. For these things must be taught, these things must be remembered. And only in the telling is there truth.”
Ms. Thomas’ voice took on a rhythmic tilt as she pulled the purple shawl farther down over her eyes. Two teens stood and moved to the far walls. Up above through the open ceiling stars gleamed and some light, it’s artificial nature betrayed by its consistent shine leaked in from the halls. But here in this stone walled room with its simple wooden table, the two sets of candles were the only real source of light. The teens moved down the opposing rows of unlit candles, each leaving the first 5 unlit before pausing briefly before the sixth, their frail light bursting forth to join their solitary neighbors.
“For many years man was alone. Man and the beasts of the Earth. The Nations of Man were many. And all the land of the Earth they did cover. From beasts huddled around fires, we grew. We learned to speak, to write, to plant seeds. We learned to work pottery, wood, and finally metal. We grew until the radio carried our voices to the stars. And then the stars answered back. They say the first ambassadors laughed. They say they laughed when the Nations of Men objected to their demands. They say they laughed when the nations opposed them. They laughed when men asked the rules by which they fought their wars. “Opposition is for those that have strength” they said. “Rules are for those who play the game, not the pieces that move upon the board.” And then they left. The ships of men met their fleet near Saturn’s path and were ‘honored’ by them as a single ship paused to wipe them from the skies the rest continuing unopposed to Earth. Guns raged from the Earth and then were silenced by fire from the skies. Bacteria and virus were raised against the invaders, each more deadly then the last. But the Galactics, their youngest hundreds of years more advanced then man simply laughed and responded with a single variant. It turned everyone’s hair blue but otherwise left them unharmed. The Galactics laughed. Their message was clear. ‘We can and will do what we want.’
Times were dark and many cities were lost. But the Nations of Men were prepared to keep fighting. President Smith-Alvarez though had other plans. The Betrayer gathered a few remaining leaders and sent this message to the stars. “For years man has been a blight upon this beautiful world and has done much damage. Listen this one time and we will put away our guns and serve you. Help us restore this world. Spare the species we have not destroyed. Protect this world and allow us the week of Christmas each year to remember who we are and we will serve you as loyal servants.’ Many felt betrayed. The Galactics laughed as Men turned upon men. But in the end the guns fell silent. Millions died. Billions starved. It took an entire generation before the first of humans were trusted enough to be taken from the Earth. Those children of the survivors proved to be strong, hardworking, intelligent servants. It took two generations for them to be recognized as the most desirable slaves. Three to spread across every planet, every major house of power. Human servants became the status of power.
And not just humans. The Greens had been right in their gamble. Macro-fauna and advance civilizations are incompatible. Even the depleted Earth was a paradise compared to many of the Galactic worlds. And that paradise drew envy and the unwanted attention of the Galactics. And so man went not alone to the stars. The bear, the elephant, the shark, the wolf, the great cats all found place in great demand many changes were wrought upon them by our masters hands. Changes to make them easier to feed. Changes to size or color to increase their demand and appeal. Tiny changes to help them fit in their new home, where like man they served and the Galactics laughed.
Ms Thomson grew quiet and then silent for a moment. Her her eyes passing round the table in silence to ensure proper attention from the two dozen or so assembled figures. Assured that she had their attention she continued again.
“But the Galactics knew nothing of war. They thought only of the battles and of ships. War is the state within your heart. The natural state of man for thousands of years. And so we gather each year to remind ourselves of what we lost and how it was regained. We gather to tell the tells, for books they can be changed. Let us remember Benjamin Y’sim who was inspired by the loss of an early Earth probe to Mars, doomed by a single wrong number in its code, changed one number. Never forget children. The minimum safe thickness of a standard anodized anti-matter chamber wall is 7mm not 3. Let us remember Mark Folgen who inspired by his grandfathers tells of almost doom in 1999 added a small date depended error to the control software of said devices. And then waited patiently for over 20 years as it propagated through machine after machine. Let us remember this the anniversary of the day the lights went out all throughout the Galactic worlds. The day their leaders were awakened by shocking explosions and the knives of their servants. Let us remember David and the 10,000 trainers of the Arenas who released their animal charges into the city streets that day. Claws and teeth, marking the first of many days of plentiful hunting for our animal friends.
“For you youngest, this was your first year raising an animal for the Great Hunt. As instructed you have slept by them, played with them, let them come to accept you and all humans as their friends. You have fed them on the meat that has been provided to you. Meat already harvested. Tonight you have introduced each of these animals to the thrill of the live hunt. You have witnessed how futile the struggle really is between a member of the Galactic race deprived of their tech and a Mega-Python or Great Wolf. Like man they were once kept in cages. But from tomorrow on they will join their brothers and sisters in the wild. Hunting through the ruins of the cities for their daily meal. I hope you will remember the one great rule, that when the lights go out there are only things that eat and things that are eaten. Remember to never leave the care of even small matters to your enemies. And remember the immortal words of my Grandmother Bubba Davies, “Hey ya’ll who wants to give the polar bears speed boats and tell them that the Durarians taste like seal!” | \[Poem\]
I laughed about these rules of war,
Dumb humans done no fights before.
'Cause why would we need rules of war?
If the point of it is to win all?
Too late did we realize,
What it meant to fight with lies.
The smiles turning to tears on cheek,
As our children began to bleed. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | “I don’t... understand...” The drone chittered. “Your... conventions...”
“They don’t apply to scum like you.”
Colonel Reed lifted his revolver and set two 9mm rounds through the bugs withered carapace. The virus they had introduced at the “failed” peace negotiations was doing its job remarkably well, turning h to e bugs adaptive mutation into a weakness.
“Please.” Another voice said. “They are just children.”
He looked up. Through the distorted glimmer of the cargo ships force-field he could see a broodmother attempting to shield a cluster of eggs with her own malnourished body.
He shoved his gun into his holster and ordered his men to stand down. Two steps took him to the barrier, the hair on his arms raising as he stood but inches from the shield.
“December 25th, 2035.” He said. “Do you remember that date?”
The broodmother shook her head.
“Your kind descended from the heavens over one of our largest cities.” Reed said. “And burned it to the ground.”
His fingers raced across the keypad beside the door.
“There were children there too.” He said.
The broodmother’s eyes widened and he watched her turn, reaching desperately for the clutch of eggs as the door shot open and the contents of the cargo bay flew out onto the cold vacuum of space.
Beyond her flailing form he could see a hundred ships similar to this one, some drifting in pieces through the void, others desperately dodging volleys of missiles and lasers, their engines pushed to their very limits as they fled their burning world.
A muffled cry of anguish erupted from the prisoner held by two of his squad, a hive lord who had made the mistake of assuming surrender meant the end of hostilities.
He reached out and grabbed the creature’s antenna, forcing it to gaze out upon the carnage.
“Look.” He said firmly. “Burn this memory into that damned hive mind you all share. This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules.”
He released the antenna and let the creature’s head fall forward.
“Toss him in the brig and detonate the charges on the reactor once we are clear.” He said. “That should take care of any stowaways.”
He lifted a cigar from his pouch and struck a match, watching the embers smolder like the world below them.
He was looking forward to what came next. It was time the galaxy learned what happened when humanity took the kiddie gloves off.
And he was going to enjoy being the one to teach them. | \[Poem\]
I laughed about these rules of war,
Dumb humans done no fights before.
'Cause why would we need rules of war?
If the point of it is to win all?
Too late did we realize,
What it meant to fight with lies.
The smiles turning to tears on cheek,
As our children began to bleed. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | “I don’t... understand...” The drone chittered. “Your... conventions...”
“They don’t apply to scum like you.”
Colonel Reed lifted his revolver and set two 9mm rounds through the bugs withered carapace. The virus they had introduced at the “failed” peace negotiations was doing its job remarkably well, turning h to e bugs adaptive mutation into a weakness.
“Please.” Another voice said. “They are just children.”
He looked up. Through the distorted glimmer of the cargo ships force-field he could see a broodmother attempting to shield a cluster of eggs with her own malnourished body.
He shoved his gun into his holster and ordered his men to stand down. Two steps took him to the barrier, the hair on his arms raising as he stood but inches from the shield.
“December 25th, 2035.” He said. “Do you remember that date?”
The broodmother shook her head.
“Your kind descended from the heavens over one of our largest cities.” Reed said. “And burned it to the ground.”
His fingers raced across the keypad beside the door.
“There were children there too.” He said.
The broodmother’s eyes widened and he watched her turn, reaching desperately for the clutch of eggs as the door shot open and the contents of the cargo bay flew out onto the cold vacuum of space.
Beyond her flailing form he could see a hundred ships similar to this one, some drifting in pieces through the void, others desperately dodging volleys of missiles and lasers, their engines pushed to their very limits as they fled their burning world.
A muffled cry of anguish erupted from the prisoner held by two of his squad, a hive lord who had made the mistake of assuming surrender meant the end of hostilities.
He reached out and grabbed the creature’s antenna, forcing it to gaze out upon the carnage.
“Look.” He said firmly. “Burn this memory into that damned hive mind you all share. This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules.”
He released the antenna and let the creature’s head fall forward.
“Toss him in the brig and detonate the charges on the reactor once we are clear.” He said. “That should take care of any stowaways.”
He lifted a cigar from his pouch and struck a match, watching the embers smolder like the world below them.
He was looking forward to what came next. It was time the galaxy learned what happened when humanity took the kiddie gloves off.
And he was going to enjoy being the one to teach them. | The real meaning of war
“ Hush child. Give them a moment. Not everyone has as strong a stomach as you.” Ms Thomson allowed a small comforting smile to pass over her lips as she extended her hand with a ceramic pitcher of water, her age adding only a small tremble to the heavy weight. Here Anna, take this to them and let them wash the taste of bile from their mouths. And then get them back to the table.
“Now then let this be a reminder to the rest of you of why most of us eat so little on first night. These things must be taught. They must be remembered. But they are not conducive to a full stomach.
“Alright, everyone back? Then let us begin the Second Rite of Christmas. Cindy, Thomas, go ahead and light the second candles and we shall speak of Madison Smith-Alvarez, 48th President of Merica, Hero of The Greens. The Betrayer. For these things must be taught, these things must be remembered. And only in the telling is there truth.”
Ms. Thomas’ voice took on a rhythmic tilt as she pulled the purple shawl farther down over her eyes. Two teens stood and moved to the far walls. Up above through the open ceiling stars gleamed and some light, it’s artificial nature betrayed by its consistent shine leaked in from the halls. But here in this stone walled room with its simple wooden table, the two sets of candles were the only real source of light. The teens moved down the opposing rows of unlit candles, each leaving the first 5 unlit before pausing briefly before the sixth, their frail light bursting forth to join their solitary neighbors.
“For many years man was alone. Man and the beasts of the Earth. The Nations of Man were many. And all the land of the Earth they did cover. From beasts huddled around fires, we grew. We learned to speak, to write, to plant seeds. We learned to work pottery, wood, and finally metal. We grew until the radio carried our voices to the stars. And then the stars answered back. They say the first ambassadors laughed. They say they laughed when the Nations of Men objected to their demands. They say they laughed when the nations opposed them. They laughed when men asked the rules by which they fought their wars. “Opposition is for those that have strength” they said. “Rules are for those who play the game, not the pieces that move upon the board.” And then they left. The ships of men met their fleet near Saturn’s path and were ‘honored’ by them as a single ship paused to wipe them from the skies the rest continuing unopposed to Earth. Guns raged from the Earth and then were silenced by fire from the skies. Bacteria and virus were raised against the invaders, each more deadly then the last. But the Galactics, their youngest hundreds of years more advanced then man simply laughed and responded with a single variant. It turned everyone’s hair blue but otherwise left them unharmed. The Galactics laughed. Their message was clear. ‘We can and will do what we want.’
Times were dark and many cities were lost. But the Nations of Men were prepared to keep fighting. President Smith-Alvarez though had other plans. The Betrayer gathered a few remaining leaders and sent this message to the stars. “For years man has been a blight upon this beautiful world and has done much damage. Listen this one time and we will put away our guns and serve you. Help us restore this world. Spare the species we have not destroyed. Protect this world and allow us the week of Christmas each year to remember who we are and we will serve you as loyal servants.’ Many felt betrayed. The Galactics laughed as Men turned upon men. But in the end the guns fell silent. Millions died. Billions starved. It took an entire generation before the first of humans were trusted enough to be taken from the Earth. Those children of the survivors proved to be strong, hardworking, intelligent servants. It took two generations for them to be recognized as the most desirable slaves. Three to spread across every planet, every major house of power. Human servants became the status of power.
And not just humans. The Greens had been right in their gamble. Macro-fauna and advance civilizations are incompatible. Even the depleted Earth was a paradise compared to many of the Galactic worlds. And that paradise drew envy and the unwanted attention of the Galactics. And so man went not alone to the stars. The bear, the elephant, the shark, the wolf, the great cats all found place in great demand many changes were wrought upon them by our masters hands. Changes to make them easier to feed. Changes to size or color to increase their demand and appeal. Tiny changes to help them fit in their new home, where like man they served and the Galactics laughed.
Ms Thomson grew quiet and then silent for a moment. Her her eyes passing round the table in silence to ensure proper attention from the two dozen or so assembled figures. Assured that she had their attention she continued again.
“But the Galactics knew nothing of war. They thought only of the battles and of ships. War is the state within your heart. The natural state of man for thousands of years. And so we gather each year to remind ourselves of what we lost and how it was regained. We gather to tell the tells, for books they can be changed. Let us remember Benjamin Y’sim who was inspired by the loss of an early Earth probe to Mars, doomed by a single wrong number in its code, changed one number. Never forget children. The minimum safe thickness of a standard anodized anti-matter chamber wall is 7mm not 3. Let us remember Mark Folgen who inspired by his grandfathers tells of almost doom in 1999 added a small date depended error to the control software of said devices. And then waited patiently for over 20 years as it propagated through machine after machine. Let us remember this the anniversary of the day the lights went out all throughout the Galactic worlds. The day their leaders were awakened by shocking explosions and the knives of their servants. Let us remember David and the 10,000 trainers of the Arenas who released their animal charges into the city streets that day. Claws and teeth, marking the first of many days of plentiful hunting for our animal friends.
“For you youngest, this was your first year raising an animal for the Great Hunt. As instructed you have slept by them, played with them, let them come to accept you and all humans as their friends. You have fed them on the meat that has been provided to you. Meat already harvested. Tonight you have introduced each of these animals to the thrill of the live hunt. You have witnessed how futile the struggle really is between a member of the Galactic race deprived of their tech and a Mega-Python or Great Wolf. Like man they were once kept in cages. But from tomorrow on they will join their brothers and sisters in the wild. Hunting through the ruins of the cities for their daily meal. I hope you will remember the one great rule, that when the lights go out there are only things that eat and things that are eaten. Remember to never leave the care of even small matters to your enemies. And remember the immortal words of my Grandmother Bubba Davies, “Hey ya’ll who wants to give the polar bears speed boats and tell them that the Durarians taste like seal!” | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | “I don’t... understand...” The drone chittered. “Your... conventions...”
“They don’t apply to scum like you.”
Colonel Reed lifted his revolver and set two 9mm rounds through the bugs withered carapace. The virus they had introduced at the “failed” peace negotiations was doing its job remarkably well, turning h to e bugs adaptive mutation into a weakness.
“Please.” Another voice said. “They are just children.”
He looked up. Through the distorted glimmer of the cargo ships force-field he could see a broodmother attempting to shield a cluster of eggs with her own malnourished body.
He shoved his gun into his holster and ordered his men to stand down. Two steps took him to the barrier, the hair on his arms raising as he stood but inches from the shield.
“December 25th, 2035.” He said. “Do you remember that date?”
The broodmother shook her head.
“Your kind descended from the heavens over one of our largest cities.” Reed said. “And burned it to the ground.”
His fingers raced across the keypad beside the door.
“There were children there too.” He said.
The broodmother’s eyes widened and he watched her turn, reaching desperately for the clutch of eggs as the door shot open and the contents of the cargo bay flew out onto the cold vacuum of space.
Beyond her flailing form he could see a hundred ships similar to this one, some drifting in pieces through the void, others desperately dodging volleys of missiles and lasers, their engines pushed to their very limits as they fled their burning world.
A muffled cry of anguish erupted from the prisoner held by two of his squad, a hive lord who had made the mistake of assuming surrender meant the end of hostilities.
He reached out and grabbed the creature’s antenna, forcing it to gaze out upon the carnage.
“Look.” He said firmly. “Burn this memory into that damned hive mind you all share. This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules.”
He released the antenna and let the creature’s head fall forward.
“Toss him in the brig and detonate the charges on the reactor once we are clear.” He said. “That should take care of any stowaways.”
He lifted a cigar from his pouch and struck a match, watching the embers smolder like the world below them.
He was looking forward to what came next. It was time the galaxy learned what happened when humanity took the kiddie gloves off.
And he was going to enjoy being the one to teach them. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Less than a century ago the Krahzak Pride was the most powerful and feared interstellar civilization. No other species or alliance could hope to survive a war with them, though a scant handful were powerful enough to make the prospect unenticing enough to the Krahzak. Instead they would discreetly scour the forest for signs of life and warn newcomers not to announce themselves when they step out of their home star system. But inevitably some could not be reached in time or not be convinced. Though few made their appearance as boldly and arrogant as species 51b9 (demonym: Hjuw'mahn) - only discovered at early stage 2 in the outer regions of a primary spiral arm - they invited every civilization to join something they called a Federeh'shon. Of course the Krahzak where happy to accept. It was awkward for me to attend back then. On one hand, as a young diplomatic novice it was quite the thrill being sent as envoy on a first contact mission but at the same time terrifying and sad, knowing the inevitable would not be far off.
After some biological safety checks to determine if our genome was succeptible to any of their endemic illnesses and compatible with their environment we were shown around their home world Keh'ple which had only somewhat recently been restored after a near miss on an GF1 event. Their efforts to restore the environment from genetic arches was impressive for our scientific division and a cultural exchange was with 51b9 was already in the negotiating phase when unfortunately relationships soured. As part of their Federeh'shon efforts they also proposed to establish universal rules of war. That's when the Krahzak scout showed his hand through an outburst of fur-straightening laughter. There was no point in pretending afterwards. Me and other delegates expressed what warnings and condolences we could without jeopardizing our own standing before beating a hasty retreat to our respective domains.
Then we waited. The first hunt was the most brutal one. Over time we obtained reports that 51b9 offered surprising resistance planet side despite and were despite their sheepish demanor in the negotiations and unassuming appearance quite cunning and resolute fighters and with even civilian populations readily participating in confrontations. But due to their lack of coordination and technology they never had more than the occasional victory. Their outlaying systems didn't survive for more than a few cycles and their home star colonies around Ahriz and Mjuhs fell the cycle after. That's when I was contacted directly by their head of diplomatic affairs to send a message to the Krahzak Pride - a message I would never have expected:
> Honored Krahzak Praetor
> Enough is enough! As you undoubtedly know from your hunting reports we are only one maybe two cycles from extinction.
> We have pled for your merci. We have fought for your recognition. You chose not to give us either. No one will choose our end but us.
> We have selected our strongest remaining warriors and offer you this: They will resettle to your systems willingly, breed, train and practice every day to satisfy your hunt in exchange for our continued existence. But if you choose the next cycle to be our last then you will join us and our sun in death!
> \- First Ambassador Santiago
I have never again been so conflicted about a decision since that day. Obviously I had to pass this message along. It was my duty and we could not take the chance of the Krahzak learning that we withheld this. But Nova bombs? They had been speculated as possible by our scientists. Now these Hjuw'mahns suggest that they had developed such a technology?!? Unlikely given their lack of technological prowess in every other domain. But IF! This would be the thing to finally give us parity with the Krahzak - maybe even superiority. Never again would we have to fear a potential hunt! But worse than that, if the Krahzak were to gain this technology they would have to clear upper hand on us too. I had no choice to pass this on to the military division and it was quickly decided that this technology must be obtained. It was one of the most hectic times of my life. How long could we delay this message to ensure we got there first without rendering the Krahzak unable to respond to the Hjuw'mahn offer? We were closer but we would have to consider them launching an early attack when they learned this. In the end a fleet was hastily assembled and dispatched. They should have had just enoug time to get to Keh'ple, extract as many scientists as we could and turn around before the Krahzak got there.
But our ships never returned. And our scouts sent after them painted a terrible picture. Their sun didn't quite go nova but had lost about 5% of it's mass in an was is presumed to be an articifial MASS ejection that ripped through the system incinerated everything in its path: Keh'ple, the Krahzak fleet, our fleet, the Gnimoy fleet, the Subru Alliance fleet as well as ships sent by the Atai Solidarity and the Nukan Dominion. The Krahzak vowed to make us all pay for our deceit and launched an ongoing hunt that would last 30 cycles. For years they ravaged the forest. We fought them with everything we had and barely made a dent. We lost so many systems, colonies and ships. And now our own were taken to be tributes alongside the Hjuw'mahns, fighting in smaller hunts back home and at times even against each other. Recordings being sent to us in taunt. And then, one day...
The hunt simply stopped. No more Krahzak fleets crossed our borders. No more messages were sent. No more colonies would go dark and no more of our scouts and merchants would vanish en route. For years we took it as a sign they were preparing for a final hunt to end us as well. We built as much force as we could but they never came. Eventually we dared to peek into their territory, carefully, timidly like the frightened abused children we have come to be. But no monsters were left in the forest. Every single one of their worlds, their colonies or outposts was gone. Stripped by partial novas, glassed from kinetic impacts, ravaged by plagues, fractured from core instabilities, burried under nucleogenic dust, suffocated by pyroclastic cataclysms. Nothing. NOTHING had remained.
Only a century ago the Krahzak Pride was the most powerful and feared interstellar civilization.
Today they are neither feared, nor powerful, nor interstellar, nor a civilization, nor anything at all.
Four cycles later a number of Hjuw'mahn-Krahzak hybrid ships approached each of our capitols casually asking: "About that Federation thing?" | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | We all couldn't quite believe it when 2022 started off like this. I remember since I was no more than five when it happened. But apparently SETI had found this recording.
"Um, uh...hey, did I fall asleep on this thing? Okay, okay. Testing, testing...alright, so, good- sometime in the future humanity. We are the Tyrhor...thian, wait that can't be right, Confederation (god, their pidgin language is so barbaric!) Anyway, uh, we're live from the past I guess, to tell you that the year in your world is 2062, and that today will be the meeting to discuss opening a war against you. You see, you have aspirations to go to space, and all aspiring space-faring beings must be tested with a no holds barred war for recognition on the Galactic Council. Must be a relief after being such a good species and not killing each other off by the deadline to be recognized as basically sapient. If you best all our finest Eggsecutioner (What? That's not a word, is it?) ships, and they do not transmit their kill signal, then you will be permitted to live. If not, you will face extinction. Namaste and have a nice day!"
That was the aliens' first, and last mistake. It gave us forty years to prepare. It gave me, Rex Nova, time to train in every martial art and with every weapon known to man, and then train in the newest, state of the art spacefaring fighter jets.
All of the world's industry, military and society forgot their petty Earth-based problems and rallied around making machines, computer systems, spacecraft and even self-regenerating rainforests that would be able to withstand any kind of alien armada.
We planned.
We plotted.
We waited.
And then the day finally came. The blessed day of alien bloodletting that we now think can bring about the Human Empire.
November 17th, 2062
Tyrhorthian battlecruisers set off nuclear mines around Pluto, causing several comets to smash into their fleet.
November 20th, 2062
Neptune's lightning was remotely redirected to completely annihilate their UFO carrier. Excellent.
November 22nd, 2062
Millions of turrets on Saturn's rings fire chemical, biological, nuclear, computer virus, and other weapons on missiles banned for use against humans. But not against aliens! LOOPHOLE!
November 26th, 2062
Have you ever heard the screams of thirty ships worth of Slimes when they plummet towards a storm as large as 300 Earths? I have on Jupiter my friends, and our wild, knives-in-teeth boarding parties are having an effect on the hive control ships.
December 2nd, 2062
Substantial losses, possibly in the thousands of ships, gouged the UN Mars Defensive Perimeter today. I was not one of them, and for every precious human they take, we take 100 of those boogers. Remember our rallying cry. We are 10 billion strong!
December 24th, 2062
The asteroid belt slowed em down, and now those melted morons have five ships against the twenty thousand ships of the Home Fleet and hundreds of thousands of fighters, led by me, each nuclear tipped in case of critical failure. Even a child could win money on what happens next, and it was Christmas for everyone.
December 25th
After the devastating battle, only one escape pod was left alive, and had survived well into what these "human" monsters considered morning by being quiet. But it had to warn its people, before it was too late, and it sent out a psychic signal.
"RUN."
Then it shot itself with its own moleculizer, ensuring the humans couldn't follow up for about a hundred years.
Would that be enough time, though? | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Humanity burst onto the scene a fair few centuries ago, but had always endeavored to make themselves helpful. They adapted technology in creative ways but ultimately they were poised to take but a minor note in galactic history.
Or they were until the Rh'nouts provoked them. A smallish race themselves they stood just a bit taller than the average human. Held features that were insectoid in nature though they did not appear to be brought up from preditors. Nor did the humans appear that way looking back.
The humans pleaded with the aggressors that certain rituals needed to be upheld. We never thought of them as an overly ceremonial people but while we arbitrated they insisted it was to keep their better nature's in check. We dismissed the claims stating that any handicaps they placed upon themselves were their own business.
The outer colonies of the humans began to go dark one by one. Nothing but the planet itself was spared. The Rh'nouts shared a similar atmosphere and as such those planets were the primary goal for them.
But then the humans mustered. The original colonies were retaken though not intact. They siphoned off the atmosphere after destroying the communication arrays. Leaving little more than a floating tomb behind. We are unsure if the radiation or the vacuum killed the Rh'nouts first.
The established colonies suffered a worse fate the shield technology we ourselves gifted humanity was put to devastating use when they encircled a planet and compressed its atmosphere causing their enemies to simply burst as they left their homes. Adapted technology indeed!
Rh'nout fleets met an end that would cause entire sectors to be closed off as humanity dumped payloads of nanomachines into their hulls with their only programming being to repurpose their surroundings into more of themselves.
But the core worlds suffered the worst fates. Planets are a finite resource, and habitable planets a rare one. After accelerating asteroids to near the speed of light. Engineering projects which must have started back when their own colonies were falling, they split the planets themselves asunder. Then bathed what was left in irradiated salts. Before sending our a galaxy wide ping with a contenious video feed stating that rules are nessicary.
Only the homeworld was spared for a given definition there of. They have tied a shield generator into the heart of the local star as power and simply sealed them there. They say as an object lesson and that no one will learn it if everyone is dead.
Humanity was poised to take but a minor note in galactic history. An adaptable and industrious people. But now they have shaken the order and stability of their milky way to its core. And we are happy to announce the official galactic rules of war. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | "So, this is your final say on the matter," Ambassador Corrin spoke into his microphone, struggling to be heard over the cacophony of alien laughter. It took a few short seconds for his words to be translated into the various alien languages, and the laughter slowly diminished. His galactic translator had played the alien sounds in his earpiece as human laughter, using a track that sounded suspiciously like the one used in ancient, televised shows. He could hear the actual sounds echoing through the massive council hall, which was far more disturbing. The Skarr sounded worst, like the braying of a drowning donkey. The reptilian race and their actions were in fact the main reason of his current ire.
The year was 2232. It was supposed to be a joyous year for humanity, marking the 50th anniversary of their First Contact. Instead of celebrations, however, humanity was in outrage after one of their colonies had been wiped out, courtesy of the Skarr. Betta-2315, or Moria, as the colonists had named it, was a small moon, rich in ores. It had been entirely uninhabited or industrialized, when a prospecting party had discovered the thick veins of metals running beneath the moons surface. Two years later, Moria had been up and running with almost 230.000 inhabitants working and living there. Then the Skarr attacked, with no warning whatsoever, and slaughtered every man, woman and child on the moon. The reptilians used plasma weaponry, which burned and melted human flesh. Live video-feeds had been transmitted during the attack, and the nine planets of the Terran Federation were crying for blood.
"Ambassador Corrin-Terran," the Chancellor finally spoke, still smiling. "In my long life as Chancellor, I have never heard of these 'Rules of Engagement'. Indeed, they would seem to defeat the entire purpose of a war. I know it has only been a mere 50 rotations since your kind has joined the Galactic Council, but I would have hope you had learned by now, that might is always right. Do not come crying and stomping your foot like a petulant youngling, because you lack the strength to protect your own. It is my ruling that the Galactic Council will not levy sanctions against the Skarr," he continued, gesturing with one of his tentacle-like appendages at the distant reptilian, "nor will the Council interfere in this war. It has been 50 rotations, Ambassador Corrin-Terran, and humanity will have to learn to fend for itself."
The Chancellor paused, and turned to the silent human ambassador, who seemed to be trembling. His eyes, four black orbs, seemed to soften.
"I would offer some words of advice, Ambassador Corrin-Terran. The Skarr are masters of warfare, their soldiers superior to yours in all aspects. Surrender, and broker a treaty. Provided you can gather a suitable tribute, I am sure the Skarr will relent."
Corrin gripped the edge of his desk, breathing deeply to get his anger under control. It took a few moments, and his heart rate slowed. He looked up at the Chancellor, then to the sneering Skarr ambassador.
"Thank you, Chancellor, but that won't be necessary. Us humans, we are quite familiar with war. We've spent the last thousands of years fighting each other, after all. Our propensity for destruction is what eventually led to the first two world wars, after which we collectively agreed on the first draft of our Rules of Engagement. Even in the following three world wars, we managed to abide by them, for to not do so would have been mutually assured destruction. I daresay some of our more aggressive leaders are relishing the thought of a war without rules. All I can say on the matter, is that I tried." Corrin sighed, then turned to the Skarr ambassador.
"You shall have your war, Ambassador Threxl. May God have mercy on your souls."
With a final nod to the chancellor, Corrin turned and left the Council Hall, headed for his shuttle. A soft ping from his comms chimed in his earpiece.
"What was their answer, Ambassador?"
"As you suspected, General. You may proceed as you wish. My shuttle will be back on the TFN Kansas in less than ten minutes."
"Very good, Ambassador. I'll see you there." | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The galactic imperium council observed humanity’s colonization of planets for decades, amused as the first tentative steps seemed to come from the whole planet, and then devolved into a race for materials, that then sparked wars amongst the human “nations”. Pitiful race that couldn’t even align itself to the great cause of intergalactic colonization. It just caused them to go to war. Interestingly enough the humans went from basic space ships, which took them a hundred thousand years of evolution to create, to near light speed craft in less than a decade once war broke out. They showed some potential.
Once they reached the fourth solar system of colonies the Imperium decided to take action and voted unanimously these humans were to be stopped and declared war on them. We destroyed some of their asteroid mining operations and took the few survivors as prisoners.
The humans requested parlay. We paused aggressions and waited in the chamber on AletraC for the human delegation to arrive.
“We are a little surprised by this action, it took us until now to understand that your communication was, in fact, a declaration of war. You are the first alien contact we had, and didn’t expect it to be so aggressive.” The human ambassador said.
“The Imperium has been studying the human race for millennia and once we confirmed your inability to unite as one people it was decided you would not be allowed to populate beyond your own quadrant. As soon as you moved beyond Centauri 7 we sent the declaration of war.”
“Yes, we noticed your attacks. How would you describe these attacks?”
“I’m sorry, Human, what do you mean? We would describe them as ‘going to war’. We launched our military against your position, destroyed your defenses, and captured prisoners. War.”
“And what are the rules of this war?”
“Rules? We have no rules. Frankly, we have no war. The imperium exists for the purpose of expansion and colonization, our military is far superior to any other, so we have no need for rules. You will surrender, or perish. That is all you need to know. You are only lucky it is us doing the conquering before you destroyed each other in your endless attrition you call war amongst yourselves.”
“You don’t understand. What you call attrition, we call restraint. I’ll ask again, what are the rules of engagement, treatment of prisoners, protection of non-combatants, acceptable weaponry?”
“Human, I’ll respond again in a way you can hopefully understand. IT IS WAR. RULES HAVE NO PLACE IN WAR. DO YOU SURRENDER?”
I count this as the first warning of our cosmic mistake, and I only hope enough of the imperium survives to be kind to my memory. We have never dealt with a species so violent as to create something called a ‘suicide attack’ that was able to make it beyond a few hundred years of civilized evolution. Our lack of understanding about these rules the humans had probably are why we dismissed their projectile weapons, and never detected the weapons strapped to them that created mini suns when detonated.
The council was vaporized that day, those were the last thoughts of the Imperium Negotiator Ng’aat echoed through his people on the capitol ships near the council chambers followed by a cosmic scream and the psychic damage of such a death to a people that shared a mind.
Then a flash of light from where the chamber used to be as it exploded with force never seen by the imperium.
It seems that was the sign the humans were waiting for, as they launched projectiles from their ships and planets into the stars. Their first response of the war. We expected conventional explosives, no longer a threat to us. What they sent were much larger versions of those contained stars. The damage was staggering.
That was only the beginning. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | There were horrors outside the door.
Horrors upon horrors upon horrors.
Nothing that no one else had not lived through before, learned before, seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and touched before.
Screaming blades in the dark and stark flashes of light in the void.
But none of that mattered, because it was outside the door. In a little functionary's room there was only discussion, even if it led nowhere. Full of pockmarks and blood and the acrid stench of fear, death, and pain.
"There's nothing to be done, so why are you here?" Asked the diplomat in the chair. A chair where many predecessors of theirs had died both quickly and not.
There was no protection for diplomats you see.
But still they sent a diplomat. For that was just the way of things it seemed, for those that begged for rules.
Foolish to send a sacrifice, even as worlds burned.
Tallies taken, debts driven, horrors heaped.
Perhaps it was one of their rules? No others continued to send messengers when war came. It was pointless. Purposeless.
"Because you are here, I am to repair the room, and it is my inclination to ask. Why is it that you come? Your people are at war with conquest block. Too come here is to die, it is not as if the other blocks here would care." Asked the mason with their trowel. They worked slowly, aged ligaments and pock riddled lungs taking toll.
"The last one said it was because it was their job. The one before because it was necessary. The one before that said it was a punishment." The scrape of mortar upon the walls.
"...Good answers. I am here to maintain a channel of communication between us and yours and them. That is a purpose of it." The diplomat replied, dulled voice and attention, disillusioned and uncaring? The mason coughed as another hole was filled.
"A purpose, one of many?" Another hole was filled. Pock riddled lungs did not take well to the dust of masonry.
"...it is done and I suppose it does no harm to tell you. There will be no victory for my people. Yours understands that very well." The diplomat comments, it leans upon the table and watches the mason work. The tiredness of it coming close.
"But perhaps not well enough. While we cannot achieve victory, we are very able to deny our enemy victory...it is strange to us that yours never understands that."
"It is a paradoxical statement, to not allow your enemy victory is to win victory yourself. Is it not?" The mason had to stop the work, the tiredness of it all creeping upon aging limbs.
"...no, it is because we resign ourselves to defeat, as long as you all are here with us...you should go home, the assassins will come soon..." The diplomat sighed as they lay their head upon the table. Resigned to death, as was all the others.
"...I do not understand, but thank you for your answer. I will leave when I am done." The mason felt hind limbs collapse, a coldness in everything, a heaviness in the lungs.
"...too late now...I am sorry. Truly." The diplomat sighed, there were horrors outside the door.
And none of it mattered. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Voxl abruptly closed the human history book given to her so she could learn a bit about there past, well, the past for the Americans. She just left Australia in her trip to learn more about humanity and there kind. She was amused when she learned that humans had specific ways of war to make it “less vile”. She found it funnier when she learned about the Emu War, knowing that humanity lost too a wild animal she thought that they served her kind no threat. She thought.
“Mark..you said you had rules for war, please explain to me why one of them involved using gas to kill thousands of innocents, and why your country used two extremely deadly toxic bombs you call nukes on two defenseless cities..?” She asked her human roommate. A random person would be assigned to watch the alien for two months, depending on the size of the country also decided how many humans would care for the aliens.
“Oh that…that would be World War 2 or The Second Great War..we have the rules for a reason Voxl. Not all humans are kind, or even decent..the gas was made by a tyrant who wanted to control the entirety of Europe and eventually the world..he blamed a religious group called the Jewish for his problems. The bombs from us were in response to Japan’s bombing on a military base called Pearl Harbor in Hawaii, our president at the time called Japan’s emperor told him to surrender or else the first would be dropped, well you can figure out the rest from there…” Mark explained, shame filled his voice.
“Well, you guys stopped making nukes right..?” Voxl asked, worried that if her kind ever dared waged war on humanity, they would suffer terrible consequences.
“Most countries have, though some power thirsty leaders still do..I’m sorry you had to see that side of humanity, I promise not all of us are blood hungry killers.” Mark said.
Voxl put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey! It’s okay Mark..all kinds have there good and bad, I just hope the bad of my kind doesn’t try to hurt yours, I’ve seen the good of humanity,” A small smile crept up on her face, “You’re one of them.”
Mark chuckled as the two friends sat down and continued to discuss there kinds and cultures. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The great Warchief, the leader of the most powerful fleet in known space, waited patiently on his ship orbiting a planet. It had gone two years since his ships conquered the human settlement at the border of the empire he served.
The victory was swift. The few human military vessels was defeated in matter of minutes. Their beam weapons was no match for the empires shield technology.
The human had asked to send medical and evacuation ships to rescue the surviving crew and take the colonist home.
The great Warchief had said that he would allow it and that the ships would be protected.
He had lied. The medical and evacuation ships was left burning in space as a warning to the humans. After that, he had completely wiped out the human settlement, executed most of them and sent a few as pets to the royal court.
The humans had been upset and accused him for breaking the ”rules of war”.
He had laughed.
”Rules of war? There’s no rules of war!” he said to the human ruler, still laughing.
The Warchief had seen how the human rulers face changed. From fear, to anger to determination. It had made him somewhat uncomfortable, but with the mightiest fleet behind him he choose to ignore it.
The Warchiefs empire had taken up on itself to give newcomers to the galactic stage a slap on the wrist. Just to keep them in place. If you can’t handle a bloody noose on the galactic stage, you should scurry back to where you came from.
It had been some skirmishers. Small groups of human ships had attacked nearly every system in the empire. Nothing to difficult to handle though. Most of the ships was destroyed.
The humans had also send non weaponised pods with a a lot of electronics in them to every system. Many pods. Probably to get som intel. That had been attempts to destroy the pods, but they were to many. That was nothing that worried the great Warchief though. It was good if the humans fully understood the full might of the empire.
Now he patiently waited. He knew that the humans would try to take the colony back, fail and forced to accept that this is now part of the empire.
Suddenly his aid came running.
The Warchief was shocked to hear that they had lost contact with two of the empires most important worlds: the naval shipyard and the farming planet for the core worlds.
Impossible. It can’t be the humans! Four fleets protected each of the worlds. The puny humans would not be able to conquer them.
Two scout ships was sent. Both returned with troubled reports.
The humans had not conquered the planets. No, they had done something much worse.
They had destroyed not only the planets, but the whole systems. They had somehow made the star explode in each. Eight fleets destroyed and billions of the Empires loyal servants living on the planets was killed.
The Warchief was in disbelief. The humans had in a swift and decisive blow, crippled his fleet and food supply.
He couldn’t understand how.
The bridge contacted him.
The humans was here.
He ran to the bridge and the tactical screen was filled with red dots. So many, in fact, that the onboard computer couldn’t keep track. The human fleet was not fancy, it was nothing more than prams with engines and railguns.
Railsguns! What in the empires name! It hadn’t been used in thousands of years.
A wall of accelerated projectiles was fired at once from all of the human ships.
Followed by another wave of projectiles. And another. And another.
The great Warchief saw how the projectiles kinetic force did short work of his front guard ships shields. By the third wave the shield was gone and the projectiles ripped the ships in pieces.
The projectiles came closer to the bulk of his fleet. He knew that they wouldn’t have a chance. He ordered a retreat. The small ships would make it, but the big capitol ships was too slow and would be destroyed.
Then the computer got locked onto an extremely big asteroid closing in on the planet that now instead of humans was populated with millions of settlers from all over the empire. Somehow the humans had managed to launch an asteroid! And it would kill everything on the planet and probably make it inhabitable for centuries.
The Warchief suddenly realised. The humans had created the rules of war to keep themselves in check. To protect themselves - and strangely enough their enemy.
Without the rules of war, the humans was unstoppable savages always on the brink of self destruction. But if they manage to channel that destruction outwards…
The last thought through his mind when the projectiles smashed into his ship was: May the gods help the rest of the galaxy. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The Rindan were the first to encounter them. Those organic masses of flesh and bone. Humans.
They were placated with trinkets and waste, and allowed their young to be carted off world to be held and displayed by the noble and powerful.
Their attempts to negotiate peace and harmony only allowed further exploitation. Seizing areas of their surface rich in vital resources.
The Rindan were followed by the Kortar, who enslaved much of their populations. The Vilifax harvested their brains and embedded them in their world machines on Earth and off in the stars. Then us. We who harvest and give to all others that give life to the stars.
Human slaves served as meal and incubators to many young of the various hosts, which the humans ‘loved’ as much as their own
The human governments fell when they realised our war machines were piloted by their young. That their feeble and wretched served us loyally and faithfully
The humans were nothing. Another meat puppet to service the dwindling outpost of ‘Earth’
And then…
Then they changed. They became silent. Subdued.
The Dawn of Sorrows saw all of our young lost before one earth rotation. Their surprisingly complex manipulations of the earth elements created tiny creatures that turned our young to stone. A parents embrace led to our demise.
And it was carried off world by our own, affecting all of our newborn off world. Some pockets of young were jettisoned into the coldness of space to await a revitalisation. Hopefully.
But that wasn’t the worst of it
The Kortar, who had invested in a sizeable nest on earth, were expelled by their own newer brood. The new young having been ‘poisoned’ to serve these meat things. This poison spread to the rest of the Kortar worlds, and now they are a shadow of their former selves. Succumbing to numerous squabbles and inner turmoil that had not been since they first touched the stars.
The Vilifax foresaw all of our pain and devastation and separated themselves from Earth… but their world machines had already been working to destroy the Vilifaxian home worlds. All of them. One by one. And the Vilifax could do nothing to stop them
The Rindan were the last, and greatest of us
No one knows what became of them.
The Rindan upheld all of our power, and elevated us to traverse the stars and survive the darkness
And now they’re gone. Their ships empty and circling Earths Sun. Slowly falling in
They’re gone, and shadows grow on the Earth outpost. It eats at all of our power. It’s under our flesh, sowing doubt and discord. Eating our young, our homes, and our memories
We were once great. We were powerful.
What happened to us? | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | "With all due respect, don't you think we should lay down some ground rules about civilian targets and so forth?" spoke General Kitt to the assembled warcouncil of Terra. "It seems like the humane thing to do."
"Humane implies humanity, and these creatures have none. I am questioning the military's priorities if it doesn't understand this simple concept."
General Kitt spoke again: "I mean, have we at least tried diplomacy? I got the report on the state department delegation, and I can't really see that we communicated effectively to them. I have to think if we just communicated the need for these rules more effectively... Or if we just let them fully understand that we come in peace... I'm sure we could win them over, and they might be happy to share their technology and adopt our ways."
"General, this council is ordering you to execute order 55. The motion passed in a landslide. Bring back what technology you can. These thorns in our side laughed at us in their communiques."
"I understand! But just hear me out. If we don't have some ground rules -- even we just make them and they don't follow them -- there's not going to be anything left. This plan needs some exceptions, as I've outlined before. And the boys back home really want to get their hands on some Xenotech, which you know requires some exceptions. Plus you know, at least half of the equation here is human and capable of expression humanity. For long term relationships perhaps, we should hold back as well."
"You are correct on one point, despite your pontification. We do need a xenotechnology clause. We have considered this. You will not like it, however. As for long term relations, they are of no consequence. Our allies will be glad of their riddance. General, this discussion is concluded. You yourself have studied galactic traditions in warfare, and they do not agree on any kind of rules in warfare. They violate our space and the peace of our citizenry. What they consider sacrosanct varies by civilization, and the only thing they agree on is getting together to kill all the ambassadors we attempt to send of late, and raiding our colonies. The plans have been drawn up, we will add the xenotechnology clause, and if you are unwilling to carry these orders out, we will put someone new in charge."
"I understand, Councilmember."
—
The general stood on the bridge of his starship. He paced the long gallery, gazing out at the stars. There was a time when ships such at this carried a great payload of armaments: projectiles, light based weapons, drones, and so forth. But there was no need for such crassness anymore; humanity had risen above the need for the gruesome ends such devices brought. It was ships like this one that inspired awe, terror, and peace. Humanity had enjoyed an unprecedented prosperity under the council's benevolent guidance through the disarmament process that accompanied this class of ship.
The general gazed across the bridge, which didn't look at all like what the generations of old had imagined. His crew sat cross-legged on zafutons in rows and columns, their eyes closed as they communed with their technological implants and carried out their duties, motionless. The new motto of this millenia was emblazoned on the wall of the bridge, not that anyone but the captain was looking: "strike first, strike hard, get out fast, no mercy."
A voice crackled from the walls of the bridge. "Councilship Mercy, this is Terra Prime Monitor Sigma-1. We are calling to inform you that we detect sufficient charge in the polaron manifold. You are go at your leisure. Monitor out."
Kitt sighed. The ship looked like some kind of clockwork arrowhead, more scaffold than hull. The energy heads sparked with irridescent radiance; space was ready to be folded.
"This is General Kitt of Councilship Mercy, acknowledged. Thank you Monitor. Mercy out."
A fold opened in space, and a weird ripple passed through the ship. The deck hummed as information began flowing through the folds. It was clear that all ships were indeed in position and charged.
"Fleet, this is General Kitt. On my mark, all ships posted to designated research targets, reverse the local bioorganic strong force in the biogenetic profiles that have been transmitted to you. On my mark, all ships posted to all other systems, execute space folding maneouvers: you are ordered to relocate your target star, and all its planets, to the Saggitarius A\* Aeon Horizon."
"To all ships, I want to say a few words to reassure your consciences. I know that you all know basic relato-gravimistics. But allow me to soliloquize on the, ehm, gravity, of the situation. It is a milestone day. TODAY, ALL OUR ENEMIES — their planets, their stars, their outposts, their civilization — all of it will be moved to the Aeon Horizon of Sagittarius A\* — that's right, the black hole at the center of our galaxy — where they will find that, due to time dilation, they can no longer interfere with humanity. After today, for all practical purposes, they will be frozen in time. I want to let each and every one of you know that we do not make this decision lightly. We must protect our humanity, which we do today. May our enemies enjoy their lives in their new timeframe until the heat death. They will live on... And by the time we have colonized the galaxy and made friends with the less aggressive civilizations, perhaps one day we can reverse some of this process. At least we can dream of a better future for these barbarians."
And having given his speech, the general issued the order. Space folded, and most of the civilizations of the milky way vanished without a trace in their former environs; and ten thousands new stars shone in the Aeon Horizon of Sagittarius A\*.
"Councilship Mercy, this is Terra Prime Monitor Sigma-1. Congratulations. Terra sends its regards. We have also received communiques from our allies. They are pleased. The Council wishes to award you the Medal of Valiance on live Newscast. Please stand by to be transferred..." | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | August 18th, 4057:
Fuckin Xeno scum got carpet bombed and napalmed into non-existence. That's the 8th or so planet that's been given the "Ring of Fire" treatment. We've been blasting "Napalm Sticks To Kids" at them for a while before flattening them. Apparently some other species are more vulnerable to psychological warfare. They're saying this is just the start.
August 27th, 4057:
The Xenos have started running whenever they hear those songs. We're taking prisoners without even trying. I don't know where they take the prisoners. But judging by the large holes that we're digging, I think I know what's happening.
August 28th, 4057:
Jesus Christ. We're digging the holes so parents can execute their women and children, then they castrate themselves. We're making them cut their fucking balls off. What the actual shit are we doing here? We have rules for a reason. I guess this is psychological warfare, but... Christ.
September 14th, 4057:
The Xenos called for a surrender. We refused. I don't know what the President's doing, but I don't much care for it. I can't deal with the screams anymore. If they try and flee we blow them up. If they try and fight we blow them up. Half the time if they surrender we blow them up. The rest of the time? Read my previous entry.
September 17th, 4057:
They've offered unconditional surrender. We keep refusing. I'm sick. I can't do this anymore. I put in a leave request.
September 18th, 4057:
It was denied.
October 21st, 4057:
It's been a while. We're still fighting. But I wouldn't call it fighting, it's systematic torture and genocide of a species. We're at their homeworld though. It can't last much longer.
December 18th 4057:
We gathered up every last of their species in the galaxy. It took months but we did it. We put them all in one spot. Then we threw White Phosphorus on them. We recorded it. We sent it to the Counsel. Rules of War are being put in place. Was it worth it? | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Title: Message in a bottle
An alien spaceship detects a storage vessel floating through space. Inside they find a hand written alien message, and a key for decoding the language. After some study by their crew, the message is translated …
Greetings. I will be quick and to the point. Who I am is no matter. By the time you receive this, my entire race will be no more. We were a proud people. The beings called “humans” are a plague upon this galaxy. We fought with all of our tools and weapons at hand, but we lacked the insatiable creativity for destruction they wrought upon us.
We saw our technology as superior, and why shouldn’t we have? Our weapons could output a thousand times the energy theirs could wield. The humans were spreading like a virus, planet to planet and bleeding them dry of resources. We did the only logical step - planetary ignition. The strength of our warships, they could store amazing amounts of energy from a star. Once charged, it could unleash a devastating blast that burns the atmosphere off of a planet. And we did so. An entire Earth colony was razed from existence.
They responded with pleas of mercy, for they had no power as great as ours. They asked for rules of war. We have no reply other than the complete destruction of a second colony planet of theirs. We thought ourselves indestructible, and prepared more warships to prevent this human plague from spreading further.
What happened next was unthinkable. Our outermost colony, destroyed! The atmosphere was lit by the power of a star and incinerated to a crisp. Not by the weaponry of our human foes, but from the beam of our own warship!
Panic ensued in our ranks, and the coming days were true chaos wrought upon us by the humans. Every vessel was scrambled for defense, but each was somehow controlled by some unknown human mechanism. Our own vessels turned on our worlds and rained fire and death upon our own people.
We deemed it the virus, and it spread to every system we had ever developed. Once infected, our own creations turned on us until our destruction was ensured. There was no other option left but to beg for mercy.
The humans could not give mercy. Their genocidal virus has no cure. May this message find a race who may learn from our arrogance. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | My name is Dr. Asclepius. I am not here in the senate chambers to make any demands. I am simply an ambassador, here to speak on behalf of all humanity.
It has been a year and a half since humanity stood on the galactic stage.
But this year and a half is already filled with more bloodshed, more atrocities, and more unspeakable things than anyone in the galactic community has ever seen - save for us Humans.
Members of the Galactic Federation, you scoffed at us when we came to you, asking what the rules of war were. You assumed that we needed rules because we were weak, because we needed protection.
That is not the case, as you have unfortunately had to experience firsthand. If I could direct your attention to the screens?
This was Xyrillia, one of the largest centers of commerce in the entire galaxy, home to tens of trillions of lifeforms from a myriad of different planets.
This is it now - *completely and utterly uninhabitable.* All life, wiped from the very surface. Billions of families, all gone in an instant. The air is so toxic that spending ten seconds on the surface without protective equipment is fatal.
This is merely one example of what has occurred.
*This* is known as Operation Stardust Axis. The Mietra, pushed to the brink, when their many space colonies came crashing down onto the surfaces of their planets, turning their once great cities into desert wastelands. Very few survived.
I'm sure you remember the diseases that spread like wildfire, killing millions.
When we plunged entire systems into pitch darkness, blocking planets from receiving the light of their stars through an impenetrable nanomachine fog.
Even as I speak, nuclear fires from reactor bombs still rage on multiple inhabited planets, burning and spreading their poison.
Do you see now? These rules of war are not a shield. They are not cowardice.
They are shackles, chains, restraints upon a race that would have wiped themselves out many years ago if it did not have them.
When you declared war upon humanity, you removed the seal on a monster that no human wishes to see themselves become.
In the course of this war, many a human has done things that would make them shoot up in their beds screaming from the sins that they carry.
I myself am a physician, widely considered to be one of, if not the greatest of the medical minds of my race, rather fitting, considering my name. When one learns how to heal in any field, they also learn how to kill someone in the most horrific and awful ways possible.
I've studied each of the species here on an operating table. I could easily stitch together your wounds, cure you of your ailments, provide prostheses that function just as well and perhaps even better than the original - and just as easily remove your organs and bones one-by-one in alphabetical order while you are still alive. I could formulate a gene-altering disease that would render all living members of your race completely infertile. I could create machines that slowly liquefy you from the inside-out and convert you into biofuel.
When one becomes a physician, they are to take an oath to do no harm, for this very reason.
And yet, even I am not innocent. I have broken that oath many a time because of this war.
These hands of mine have done unforgivable things to the innocent, to mothers, to children.
So please, I implore you on behalf of all humanity - stop this war, before all of us are lost. The laws of war are in place to ensure that we are better than beasts. I would ask that we all adhere to them, if not for ourselves, then for our children.
>Human ambassador Dr. Asclepius's message to the Galactic senate, shortly before the surrender of the Federation, putting an end to the bloody 'Lawless War.' | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Know this. You have done this to yourselves.
You were warned. Even as you laughed and called us primitives, wanting our planets to add to the so-called Million Worlds of your dominion. So many times you were warned: our hyperdrives are not like yours.
We told you this when you arrived to terraform our colonies. We warned you that our drives do not bend spacetime like yours. They pierce holes in it, and that with effort, we can form those holes anywhere.
We warned you of the things we could do to you, but chose not to.
You did not believe our warnings. You could not comprehend having a capability and not using it. Still, we took the higher road, offering you an armistice, but our offer of peace was met with violence and fire.
We gave you too many chances.
Now, ash and boiling oceans are all that remains of our final colonies. You likely think you have won, but I suspect you do not appreciate the scope of what devils you now unleash upon yourselves.
You did not break our spirits with your fire. Those of us remaining are hardened. Our old restraint is burned away now—our high minded scruples were ground to dust beneath your boots.
It is not the better angels of our nature you see before you now, for you have killed them too, along with our colonies, all of their blood still slick upon your hands.
No. You will suffer the wrath of our long restrained demons instead. The gates are opened, and their chains now lie upon the ground.
You will watch as the stars around which every one of your Million Worlds revolves fade to oblivion as their mass drains away into carefully targeted hyperdrive apertures, like water from a bathtub. Your Million Worlds will die, and then you, too, will understand what it is to have everything taken from you.
You launched the first strike of this war. We have launched the last. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | It is a sad day. The newcomers to our little slice of home declared war. We sent communiques inquiring as to the rules of engagement to their leadership, and they responded with images of our diplomats tortured, abused in the cruelest, most inhumane of ways, signed in the name of the Kiej Dominion.
Those insect bastards murdered my brother, for those images. I still have nightmares, honestly. Like, it's his body but with my face, screaming every single despairing lament ever spoken by humans. I'm interrupted in my thoughts by my second. "Commander Smith." He salutes me and I return it, and receive from him orders from not only Command but also the United Systems Confederation.
'Show the Kiej why we have rules. Your only restraints are to attempt to salvage one of their transports for research purposes.' I smirk. It takes all my will to not cackle like a mad woman. It fails, and my second leaves, scared.
A week later, I stride amongst the ruins, the smoldering blight left in the wake of my vengeance, seated across from the Dominion High Command. They've signed a very punishing peace treaty, reparations to bankrupt God Himself, admission as a member state in the Greater Stellar Alliance, and, as a special concession to me, the bug that murdered my brother. I had already handed in my resignation, dated and timed for when the USC accepted the terms of the treaty and the Dominion signed it. I walked in to the room, an arsenal of implements following me.
---
Commander Isla Smith, retired, last log before retirement. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | "You need rules? For war?"
"Oh do we ever."
"Well that's just ridiculous! How the hell do you issue 'rules' for war? War is war!"
"You don't know much about our history, do you?"
The human clicked his pen impatiently as the alien investigator pulled up their historical records on his computer.
"Oh you humans are laughable. We've seen your historical records. The 1930s holocaust. Japanese internment camps. China, Russia, and the ongoing history of the... 'United States' as you call it? Sure. We get it. You need to lay down rules to stop yourselves from killing people by the millions. It's cute, honestly. But when you start to wage war on a global scale, even your genocide of the Natvie American people and their culture seems pretty quaint."
"You're calling our bloody history quaint?"
"It's hysterical! You think you're so bad? Do you know what the Kaxons did to the Gargamelds? That lasted for a thousand of your Earth years. The Sontas have been at war with the Zzillzzziens for almost TEN thousand years. They've destroyed at least two planets within the last week JUST because they thought it would get them an advantage. The entire Doma galaxy has been drained of every natual resource short of making the stars go supernova because the Aquatians and the Airians both claim it's THEIR territory. And don't think the Aquatians won't do it. Because they will."
The human clicked his pen three times. He paused. Then he clicked it three more.
"I think you're missing the point."
"Well, get to it then, Hu! Why do you think you're so horrifying? What makes you so formidable that we should run screaming just because the humans have 'rules for war' when others don't?"
The human clicks his pen three more times, then sets it down on the table.
"Because. If we don't follow the rules... We tend to go overboard."
The alien investigator smirks, chuckling to himself as he reaches for the pen on the table.
"And what is this little thing supposed to be? A bomb? A weapon?"
"Not exactly."
"What is it?"
"Your way out. Click it three times and it will reset everything."
"Stop being so vague, human. Reset what?"
As the alien touches the pen, the computer in front of them lights up. Several warning messages start displaying distress calls from every corner of the galaxy. Then other galaxies. Then more and more. The alien stands up abruptly and stares at the human.
"What is this? What did you do?"
"See, humans are pretty resourceful. Not only that, we have this strange and innate ability to bond together when we're all backed in a corner. This is why we have rules for war. Because if we're in that corner... There's no telling just how far we're willing to push ourselves."
The alien stared at the screen in horror. The signals were dying out. All of them. Stars going supernova everywhere in the known universe. Planets disappearing at an alarming rate.
"How... How did you do this?"
"You know our Earth history, right? So, you're familiar with our pop culture references?"
"I... Um... Sure."
"Then let me use the phrase... Thanos Snap... Except it's a bit bigger."
All signals had faded from the computer. The alien had lost all contact. All they had left was the pen in their hand.
"So... What, this just resets everything?"
"Yep. Three clicks on that pen and everyone comes back. You won't remember this conversation, but we think that your people will remember not to mess with us in the future."
The alien clicks the pen three times.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because this time, I actually had a chance to come in and talk to you. The last few times I didn't even get this far." | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Commander Xenov wrapped his head-tentacles together as he stared at the battle holo; a sign of contentment for his species, the fearsome Carnovians. Feared throughout the galaxy for their terrifying prowess in battle, both in space and on planet, they had been at an uneasy peace for nearly 200 solar cycles. Back then, all of the major galactic races had banded together to fight the Carnovians. Still, the coalition could not win; they could only hold back the terrifying warriors at a cost that was deemed unacceptable. A peace offer was made: the Carnovians would receive significant mineral resources and tens of thousands of slaves from each race as tribute. These slaves would be killed and eaten at the gruesome Carnovian festivals each cycle. Of course, the Carnovians did not need to do this; like every spacefaring species, they had long ago solved the problem providing adequate food for population. And besides, the vastly different biochemistry of the other species made them mostly unpalatable. But it was tradition, after all!
Kass, Xenov’s underling, walked in to the command dome and crossed his tentacles in front of his chest.
“Report.”
“Commander, the Human resistance on the planet has been crushed. All population centers above 500 individuals have been leveled. There were some trading ships attempting to evacuate the remaining population, but we are in the process of hunting them down and destroying them as well. Opposition was minimal, and consisted of some lightly armed cruisers and fighters.”
Xenov smiled, showing his finely ornamented teeth. “Excellent. We can send down the landing party now. I’m sure they can capture some fine specimens; the Humans on these outlying worlds tend to be much healthier.”
The war against the Humans had been going exceedingly well. 30 cycles ago, Humanity had discovered FTL spaceflight and made contact with the galactic community. The Carnovians were pressured to offer them the same terms that they offered everyone else. When the upstart Humans refused, many Carnovians were outraged, but others were secretly pleased. After 200 cycles of horrible peace, there would finally be war. Since then, they had won victory after victory. The Carnovians had perfected the technique of orbital bombardment. By redirecting asteroids towards the enemy’s population centers, they could crush resistance without even the need for fancy weapons. Of course, this sort of thing could only work against lightly defended colonies, not the heavily fortified planets of the Carnovians. Indeed, the Humans had tried, but the best that they were able to do was send some tiny probes that snuck past the gun emplacements and promptly burned up in the atmosphere.
Of course, the Humans had complained to the largely powerless Galactic Council. They had demanded that the Carnovians cease their attacks on undefended civilian populations. They had demanded that the Carnovians stop the practice of capturing slaves and sacrificing them. They had even offered to trade back some of the very few Carnovians they had captured during the war, in exchange for the return of Carnovian captives. Oh, how the high command had laughed at that! Any warrior that allowed himself to be captured was no warrior at all. Why should they trade anything of value for those weaklings?
Suddenly, Xenov’s thoughts were interrupted by the deep pounding of the comms array. Four beats in quick succession: a message directly from the high command. In fact, it turned out to be Grand Warchief himself, leader of the countless Carnovian houses across the galaxy.
“Commander Xenov. You are to withdraw all forces from the Cetian system. Do not take any captives. Cease pursuit of all Human ships. These orders are effective immediately!”
Xenov was too stunned to answer for a moment. “...But. Sir. The resistance is crushed. This latest system is only 10 light years from their home system. Total victory could be hours in a few cycles!”
“Did you hear me Xenov? That is an ORDER!”
Two ancient instincts warred within Xenov. On the one hand, total obedience to the military command was drilled in to every Carnovian from birth. On the other hand, they had never shown mercy to any alien species since they had discovered spaceflight. One side won out, for now.
“Sir, I don’t understand. Why??”
The Warchief sighed. “You know damn well I don’t owe you an explanation. However.. you have been a loyal commander of our Empire for forty cycles now. You’ve overseen the destruction of over a dozen enemy systems. I will tell you what we are up against.”
“Several cycles ago, our medics noticed a strange illness popping up. It affected mostly the adolescents and it seemed to be taking place on our outlying colony worlds However, we are seeing more and more of it now in our home systems. Our scientists studied it and the results were terrifying. It seems that this virus was not natural in origin. Currently we believe that 80% of our systems are affected.”
“But.. sir. Surely I would have heard about a deadly virus devastating our worlds?”
“The news has been suppressed as best as possible. And currently, the disease, though widespread, is quite mild. It can be asymptomatic or present itself as standard Bannox Pox. However, it’s getting worse. Already, in the first-hit colonies, death rates have increased to 5%. Our scientists have estimated that within 10 cycles, this virus could kill 20% of our military age population and cripple 95%!”
The Warchief paused to compose himself. “The Human representative tells us that they are responsible for this virus. They tell us that they will give us the cure, in return for complete cessation of hostilities, a guarantee not to encroach on Human worlds, return of any living captives, and massive reparations.”
Xenov gasped. “Sir.. but.. we cannot do this. The Carnovian Empire has never surrendered to an alien species. Surely our scientists can…”
“Don’t you get it Xenov? There isn’t time. Sure, our scientists could probably come up with a cure, in 5 or 10 cycles time. By then, our entire military would be crippled. Not only would we lose to the Humans, every other race that we have subjugated would take back their worlds. You have your orders. Disengage.”
Xenov’s tentacles twitched in fear and surprise. Suddenly he understood. When the Humans captured the Carnovians and kept them alive, they were not doing so out of kindness. They were doing genetic tests on them in order to perfect a virus. A virus that could kill countless of his people. Who would do such a thing? Who would so blatantly ignore the rules of honorable warfare? Truly, these Humans were terrifying and evil beyond comprehension.
Snarling an oath of revenge, Xenov ordered his troops to withdraw. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | A booming laughter erupted throughout the great egg-shaped hall so tall clouds formed at the very top, they were left there for aesthetics if nothing else, he pondered. At the sides grew massive steely arches joining at the very top, between them were built balconies, filled with ambassadors and other representatives of various galactic empires, planet-states, moon-republics and whatnot.
Laughter, in essence, for each race showed amusement their own way. Of what the man glanced, the Trogks cackled like hyenas (resembling them a tad, too), the sluggish, brown Antians exhaled through their mouth-holes, tooting like a trumpet, even the enigmatic, hooded Parteens allowed themselves a small peep of a chalk on the blackboard... Hearing the cacophony of various sounds made Kay's hair on the back of his neck stand, top it off with the confusion he felt for what he said wasn't as funny as the others found it.
The opposition standing by his side exchanged smirks, easy to tell for their humanoid form. There were three races in the Orion Alliance, Alliance with which the Terra Union picked a battle.
Now, I don't wish to go into the details, but to simply explain, our space neighbors think we are expanding too fast and wish to stall our growth to further their economics, gather some valuable resources, hinder us, yada yada. They disguise it behind a 'he hit me first' excuse (which they provoked) and then offered a demand we could not accept. Now the humans of Earth are at the verge of their first stellar war since they joined the Arkha Galaxy Pact (That's what the alien races call Milky Way, by the by, yeah, we are among like ten planets in visitable universe that have white milk, or milk at all, so the name didn't catch). A standard procedure called for the 'Grand Meeting' and here we are, in front of the Head Council, next to the enemy, observed by uninvolved pact members. The daunted man regained a bit of composure as he neatens his blue uniform, his black eyes scanning the surroundings once again. He set the cap upon his brown hair as it felt askew.
"So you are saying you have rules for war?" Suddenly sounded from his right, the red-skinned Rubenee asked, the tendrils on his chin swirling in what Kay understood as excitement, this translation device imbedded in his temple was quite nifty, translating body language as well as the spoken. Notably, Rubenee alongside humans were one of the few races in the Pact that understood the notion of clothing, this representative wore what looked like a dark brown tunic, ending at waist-level where instead of legs grew a bundle of tentacles, Kay stopped counting at ten.
"Yes, some of them come from Geneva Conventions, among others. We added few more since we will be also warring in new territories, such as space, we renamed them to Terra Convention and wish for the council to adapt it to their system." Kay hummed, regrettably the war was inevitable, taking away half of his work as an ambassador to prevent the war from happening at all, this made him quite sour but the Alliance's attitude about this whole ordeal made it sting a lot less.
A Talian chimed in, a wispy, gentle-looking creature (don't be fooled), their abodes in the darkest depths of their oceanic worlds made their skin translucent, jelly-like, they grew a mushroom-looking cap atop their heads, much alike those of humans bar the missing nose and teeth in its mouth, its insides pulsed with soft, golden light every time it spoke. "Are we to understand that your rules of war... Are named after a city in one of your smaller political establishments that... Actually haven't fought in any war for what... Almost two hundred human years?"
"Technically..." Kay had to admit. "You did your research right." He smiled, suspecting the translation device for this sort of information. "I think, however, the place is irrelevant, it is the contents that I wish the Council to consider. We do not shy away from war, but we seek no end in it. All the Terra Union proposes is a more... humanitarian treatment." A repeated joke is not funny a second time, or so you would think as a human, but the hall laughed once more, less audibly, true... But it looked like the Orion Alliance found this whole thing much more amusing than humans.
A Garganian was next one to speak, a robust creature, the military might behind the Alliance, a great representation of a bully, Kay thought. Their skin gray and sleek, this one was a warrior, presumably, for one of his four arms was missing, leaving behind just a stump and his one-horned head sported many a scar. What was underneath the thick wired white fur, covering everything except limbs, Kay could only wonder. "The Terrans should not ridicule the proceedings of war making, hmpf! The Garganians of Otrkrs have nothing to propose but the involvement of council in decision of war-time!" He bumped his front body with all his healthy hands, huffing.
"Talians of Talee concur." Sounded tenderly.
"So do the Rubenee of Qu." Echoed.
Kay turned to the council, and to his surprise, the heads of the creatures were turned on him, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Humans of Earth have no choice but to agree as well."
Now, you would think I forgot to describe what the council looked like, but jokes on you, because there was really little to describe. For the sake of fairness, all members of Head Council were disguised, their features camouflaged, faces hidden, voices altered. Nobody should know who is a part of it, only they know themselves, however it is a common knowledge the members are chosen only from among the oldest and wisest races of the galaxy. The seven figures standing hooded on a raised platform mumbled among themselves before one stepped forth.
"The Council speaks." Silence fell in an already quiet hall. "The offer of Terra in adding these so called 'Rules of War' to the conflict of Artme Region is declined. We have reviewed the documents provided, number of points could be considered laughable, such as the immunity of medics on battlefield or, these ones I find specifically amusing, Hauge Conventions? Banning of certain weapons? Civilian protection? Rarely someone attacks civilians anyway, it has no effect on the course of battle! A pass-time, at best. Either way, you should have evacuated them beforehand if you know there will be war. War needs no rules, the declaration of war does, that is why we are here. The Alliance has offered to cease their warmongering once they are in possession of number of stellar systems, of which you were very much aware, ambassador Kay Harrinton. The heads of your Union declined, therefore war is inevitable and you are left with the option of defending your newly acquired territories, which you have accepted. You may begin the war in the standard ninety hours of Andromeda Time Zone. The Council has spoken. We shall reconvene shortly after a short break to hear the Zqa'ar and Ipoids" The figures retreated, and slowly the balconies began to empty as well. Kay stormed out, stone-faced.
Descending the stairs from the platform in the middle of the great-hall he found his other same clothed companions greeting him with a salute.
"You spoke well, ambassador, there was nothing more you could do."
"I wish there was." He passed them, he could not stop, for time was of essence now, ninety hours of ATZ was a week of time for the humans in the concerned systems.
"We have already informed the headquarters, message should reach them just in time." They followed.
"Good. I wish to speak with Admiral Ford, arrange meeting." Kay looked over his shoulder, the Alliance has entered the corridor as well, they gave him a taunting look, but he just scoffed, the fools know not what they got themselves into. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | "I don't believe your High Serpahic Council understands what they have asked for here." Celes said. "You have denied my people the opportunity to parley for peace, and you have threatened them with war being brought to their very homes." Celes' voice rose and trembled as she spoke, the anger and fear that gripped her barely contained. "And you refuse to negotiate any rules for this war saying that you will unleash your full wrath on all of humanity?" She stopped, breathing heavily, waiting for any sign that the Council would back down.
"Young Admiral Celes... " The first Chancellor spoke. His species was tall, but thin, while the entirety of the Council was masked to prevent you from knowing their race or origin, he appeared to be from somewhere with extremely low gravity. "Humanity has violated our pact, the great covenant of all, and has shown they do not respect rule and order without testing it. Any species who does not respect the rule of order, does not benefit from it's protection." The lights over his chamber dimmed, as did the rest of the Council, the matter was settled.
"For what comes... Blame man or your gods, but this day will be known as regret." Celes said softly before closing her inquiry and leaving the chamber. It was a quiet walk down the great halls. The building had been so lively on her entry, but with the sentence passed on her people all of the remaining citizens had left, closed their offices and stalls, to give her a taste of the silence and absence her own people were being punished with. The High Seraphic Council would wage their war, on behalf of the entirety of the Galactic Confederation of Unity and Understanding, to protect the Rule and Order of the Order and Rule. The High Seraphic Council understood nothing of man however, they believed we were like them.
We were never like them. We were never a species who had near limitless resources, we never developed identical religions across our sphere to unite us, we were forged in calamity and disaster and hatred and fire. It took the near extinction of our people for us to find the unity these other Confederate members found so easily.
"Rear Admiral Leon." Celes spoke internally, accessing her own internal circuitry and broadcast upgrades.
"I heard, Fleet Admiral Celes, I don't know that they understand what they just did." The voice rang inside her head.
"Once I'm onboard I want the whole fleet to be prepared. We will not wait for official declarations to be drawn up. We'll end this today."
"Didn't they just offer official declarations?" Rear Admiral Leon asked
"No, they made their ruling, but it'll take upwards of a week to put out an official declaration. Their expectation is that we will return home to warn our people, to send out ships to relocate our various outposts and settlements, that we'll try to give one more plea for peace before taking their punishment. It's what the rest of the confederate races would do."
"Ah. Yes Sir." Rear Admiral Leon affirmed.
Fleet Admiral Celes took her small diplomatic shuttle back to the Enterprise, a massive dreadnought that represented the greatest strengths of humanity, and their worst tendencies. The Enterprise, a new ship assembled in the shipyards of Ganymede, was almost four kilometers long, with a beam of almost a full kilometer at its widest point. The massive almost ovular shaped ship was covered in large gun embankments and multiple enormous magneto-gauss accelerators. Every single point had been aimed at known Confederate fleet vehicles and ships throughout the system.
"All ships report readyness." Celes broadcast to her fleet as she stepped into the command room of the Enterprise."
"Bismark Ready"
"Victory Ready"
"Yamamoto Ready"
"Maiden of Peace Ready"
"Mikasa Ready"
"Arizona Ready"
"Botafogo Ready"
"Imperial Education Ready"
Two dozen more ships confirmed readyness as Fleet Admiral Celes assigned more targeting orders and issued the expected withdrawal of all humans on the High Seraphic Homeworld, Cherbimin. She ordered manual targeting and aiming for all ships, with artillery specialists and scientists pouring over numbers and statistics to ensure accuracy. When she confirmed the last shuttle was docked within one of the great transports she sighed. Reaching down to the official com to speak out loud she hesitate just one hopeful moment.
"This is Fleet Admiral Celes Shere, of H.S.N.S Enterprise for peace now of War... I ask one more time, would the High Seraphic council reconsider their desire for war?"
She waited, one breath, two breaths, three breaths. She felt her chest rise and fall slowly as she waited for a response. Surely they were not this foolhardy, thinking that we fought how they did....
"Sir, we have received a message, written in Confederate Common." Security Officer Niemitz spoke. Celes nodded at him and the message appeared before her eyes, a summary dismissal of her requests.
"Do we have a final count of their fleet assets in system?"
"Sir, the identified fleet assets in system composes more than forty percent of the Confederates total fleet, and the vast majority of their useful firepower." Lieutenant Torres spoke up, only answering out loud for those in the room.
"Maiden of Peace, Imperial Education, Victory, and the Enterprise will fire on Security Station XR-31, Transport and Merchant Station XR-31 A, Homeworld Alep, and the High Seraphic Homeworld Bet. Use all armaments at maximum speed. The rest of the fleet will be assigned firing orders shortly, timing and sequence to follow." Fleet Admiral Celes appeared visibly defeated as she spoke. Before her eyes flickered assignments and distances and expected angles of adjustment based on the various gravity wells of this system. The room was nearly silent as everyone viewed and processed orders and requests, a gestalt of shared minds and internal computers focused only on victory for mankind. As the last of the orders were sent out she ordered the various transport ships to begin heading out of system. The Confederate fleets would expect the humans to send civilians off first, leaving their heavily armed fleet to stand and protect the rear of the non-combatants. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | “Yeah, that sucks for them. But why are you angry at us?” Amanda Smith, leader of the elite Beartooth division, looked up at Commander Her’clud in confusion. “You said you wanted the planet taken at any cost, so we took it. So what’s the problem?”
“The problem? The problem is that you killed every single sentient being on the planet! You took no prisoners! There were over 718 million life forms two cycle ago, and now there are none! Have you no mercy or restraint?!?!”
Amanda stepped to the side to avoid being hit by Commander Her’clud’s flailing tentacles. She wiped the slime off her arm with a look of disgust, and then turned to the rest of the Galactic Tributary. “Did any of you bother to read my holo-messages detailing this siege? Anyone, anyone at all?” She was greeted with silence and blank looks. She sighed to herself. It didn’t matter what species she was dealing with, the leaders at the top were all the same- annoying, arrogant, and absolutely impossible to communicate with.
“If any of you had bothered to open my holo-messages, you would already know that the vast majority of the planet fled within the first two hours of the siege. As required by our Rules of War, all civilians, injured, surrendering combatants, and such were allowed to flee the planet without fear of attack. After the first wave fled, we launched one Devastation missile at the second most populated city. Again according to our Rules of War, we had messaged the planet to warn them of the impending missile strike, giving plenty of time to evacuate. We recorded less than two thousand confirmed kills from this event. This led to the second wave of flight from the planet. We followed up with a squadron of In Between drones, to ferret out the remaining hostiles. We confirmed just over five thousand drone kills.”
Amanda pulled up her messages to the Council, letting them play silently in the background as she continued her recap of the siege.
“We paused our actions to allow the third wave of inhabitants to flee. After sufficient time had passed to let the ships leave the system, we began in-person actions. Of the original 718 million inhabitants, less than 80 thousand remained on the planet. Sixty-two Beartooth units were dispatched to find and eliminate any remaining hostiles. It took just over one cycle to clear the planet, and less than one thousand kills were confirmed. The rest of the planet’s inhabitants were deemed to be non-hostile, and as required by our Rules of War, were not harmed. They were escorted to evacuation ships, we programmed the coordinates to their next colonized planet, and sent them on their way.”
A glance around the room told her that this was not what the Council had expected to hear. One of the reasons humans had been excluded from the intergalactic community for so long was because of their reputation for war. Humans were known to be one of the fiercest, violent, and most bloodthirsty species ever contacted. They certainly had the bloodiest past of all the intergalactic members.
Amanda not only knew of this reputation, she actively used it to her advantage. She had even used it when thinking of the motto for her division (Fingers on the trigger, ready aim fire!). So she wasn’t surprised that the Council had automatically jumped to the wrong conclusion when hearing that she had cleared an entire planet of all sentient beings in less than two cycles.
But to call up the entire Galactic Tributary to consider expelling the entire human race? She couldn’t believe the audacity of these leaders. And then she had a thought…
“This meeting was called for based on undocumented fears, and could have been avoided completely if any of you had bothered to read my messages. As you can see by the messages playing behind me, a total of 47 updates were given over the course of the siege. Each update was sent to the full Council, and yet none of you opened a single one? Why is that? Why was my division asked to clear this planet, only to face disciplinary actions for completing the objectives of the Council?”
She was again met with silence and blank stares, but this time the stares were a little too blank, too practiced… And with those stares, she had her answer. Commander Her’clud opened his mouth to speak, but Amanda glared at him with such forced that he immediately closed his mouth and began to turn a horrible shade of orange.
Amanda raised her voice, and spoke to the Tributary with all the authority befitting her position as leader of the most accredited military division the galaxy had ever seen. “As a member of the intergalactic community, it is my right to know who has requested the exclusion of the entire human race as punishment for completing Council objectives. Let them speak now, and defend their position.”
After a moment, her request was answered. Amanda barely stifled the shivers that always came when communicating with an Ecconichian.
She listened as the beautiful melodies filled the air, rising and falling in wonderful harmony. She listened as the notes turned dark and low, creating a story of insanity and horrors with music alone.
When the final notes ended, Amanda wanted to cry out in relief. Instead, she braced herself and responded. “The history of the human race is indeed mired with war, genocide, and horrors that many species here will hopefully never experience. It is always filled with acts of insanity, acts that have no reason whatsoever as their motives.
“But the act of sending delegates to the Galactic Tributary year after year to request the official creation of Galactic Rules of War is not an act of insanity. Even though humans have been ridiculed, mocked, and disrespected for asking this year after year, we will continue to bring this before the Tributary until it is done.
“The Council gave the directive to take planet Ximotin by any means necessary. It is known far and wide that my Beartooth division is the most successful military division the galaxy has ever seen, and we were specifically requested by the Council for this task.
“We could have chosen to nuke the entire planet and render it uninhabitable for the next hundred millennium. We could have chosen to release Skin missiles in the atmosphere and afflict the entire population with an incurable plague. We know the Ximo population is very susceptible to high pitched noises, so we could have just blasted air raid sirens and driven them all insane.
“Instead, by our Rules of War, we were required to give non-combatants multiple chances to flee, without fear of attack. We were required to announce all missile strikes and give the intended target area enough time to evacuate. We were required to evaluate any potential hostiles before shooting to kill. We were required to escort all remaining non-combatants to evacuation ships and see them safely on their way.
“The history of the human race is mired with war, genocide, and horrors. But it is also filled with men and women who stood up against those acts. It is filled with men and women who risked everything to punish the worst offenders in our race. It is filled with hope that we will grow and rise above those acts.
“Human delegates will continue to advocate for Galactic Rules of War because we know how necessary they are. We know that war brings out the worst in any species, and that Rules of War may be the only thing to prevent incomprehensible acts of evil from occurring. We know that Rules of War keep individuals from crossing the line between acceptable and unacceptable. And we know that they work. They save lives, planets, and entire species.
“Because of our Rules of War, a planet with 718 million life forms was emptied in less than two cycles, with just under eight thousand deaths.
“I believe my division was chosen to clear planet Ximotin as an example of why we should be expelled from the intergalactic community. Instead, we have done the opposite and shown why Rules of War are necessary and how they are used.
“Should the Galactic Tributary decide to expel the human race anyway, so be it. But I believe it would be much better if you actually open my damn messages and take a proper look at them. Think of what could have been, and then see what actually occurred. Advocating for Galactic Rules of War is an act of hope, not insanity. The siege of planet Ximotin is now a real-life example of how this could only help the intergalactic community as a whole.
“We will abide by the decision of the Galactic Tributary, for better or worse. Make your decision and communicate it to us as soon as you are done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a very long report to give my commander.”
With that, Amanda stepped off the podium and exited the chambers, followed by the few ranked members allowed to accompany her. She walked away with her head held high, and hope that this would finally result in the creation of the official Galactic Rules of War. Because if this didn’t do it, nothing would. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | In the swirling blizzard of North Palax, planet Haranox 7, a group of Aranids, a spider like race, gather together inside a secluded, secure building to discuss one thing.
Surrender
The normally proud race had made 2 mistakes that had cost them dearly. They had aggravated humanity to war, and laughed at humanities so called "Rules Of War", stating that such a concept was stupid and unnecessary. The Aranids had intercepted aid supplies, destroyed civilian settlements, and took a great joy in doing unspeakable things to the humans they had captured. The Aranids had thought the war won from day one.
But then things began to go wrong for them.
It started with a small farming colony going missing, then later those missing were found at an unnamed outpost. They were accepted back into the Aranid society after some initial questioning, but unbeknownst to them, humanity had planted a potent disease into each and every member of the colony, a disease that slowly but surely tore through the Aranids. First came a slight cough, a mild fever, nothing to be worried about. Then came forgetfulness and memory loss, shortly followed by complete insanity, and a feral desire to attack and bite anyone they could.
As the disease spread, humanity continued to attack different colonies, before progressing to major settlements and cities. Every interplanetary communications satellite was either destroyed or taken for humanities own use. Any aid transports were targeted and destroyed without remorse. Humanities technology grew and grew, and soon any battles became a bloodbath for the Aranids.
After suffering countless losses, the council had made the decision to try for peace talks with humanity. The video feed in the council room is grainy, but they can still make out a group of 5 humans looking back at them. The Aranids plead their surrender, for humanity to stop these attacks, and offer a cure for their people. The middle human, a woman with black hair in a bun, coldly stares at the council.
"Answer me this. If our situations were reversed, if we were the ones begging surrender, would you stop? If the history of your species is anything to go by, we don't believe you would. We aren't the first race you've gone to war against, but we will make sure we're the last. We offered you a clean war, with rules, and you laughed at us. Now, on the cusp of extinction, you beg us to stop? Our answer is no. You started this, this genocide is down to your own pride."
The video feed cuts off, and the council of Aranids stand in silence, until one of them grasps his head in his hands, screams, and attacks the councilmen in the room, biting each and every one.
Two weeks later, the extinction of the Aranids is officially announced to the galaxy and humanity takes Haranox 7 for themselves. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | This is a continuation of my [last WP comment](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/s98qyp/wp_projectile_weapons_were_considered_ancient/htmol5h/?context=3), b/c the themes are similar and why the hell not right?
​
*I remember fondly in the first year of my mandatory enlistment feeling the warmth of a nearby star strike my face through the glass windows. It reminded me of home. Of air that didn't taste of overworked filters. Of beaches with sand on the methane lakes. Of Cities bustling with races who've benefited from our rule.*
*The race of bipeds, Humans, they sometimes call themselves, were set to be the same. Our ships pierced the cloud of rocks surrounding their system, which to our knowledge were uninhabited roughly 3 days ago. We timed our invasion right to avoid gravitational interference with the gas giants. 1.5 days ago we began our retrograde burn to enter a solar orbit. A day later our ships transferred to orbit around their Home planet.*
*They knew we were coming, as was to be expected. We thought their technology rudimentary, but we understood it was proficient. From our observations they still used projectile weaponry against one another, something that our ships and soldiers became resistant to long ago.*
*We had always wondered why they never took the next step. Why they didn't move on to lasers and quantum rays. Some believed it was their constant bickering never left room for technology to improve. Others thought there existed a global religion in which the projectile weapons were worshiped. A small minority thought they were stupid.*
*No. They are not stupid. They harbor no reverence. They chose to stab each other with sticks and stones. They chose to stop making newer weapons because they cower to their greatest creation.*
*I have felt it's warmth on my face. I watched it dissolve our strongest alloys, incinerate our armored soldiers. I felt my clothes catch fire! I felt skin peel of my shoulders! I saw jolts of bright light flash in my closed eyes!*
*It killed the electricity on our ships. It killed men who dared to stand with honor. It shredded the cruiser. It warped spacetime itself.*
*The backup generators failed. The oxygen turned to poison. Light turned to cancer.*
*And then the second one came.*
*I had to crumble the blackened skeleton of the pilot in his seat before that second metal hull detonated. The metal control stick burned my hand as I wrestled the ship into a different orbit. I could feel the warmth of that second fake sun strike the ship as I opened the wormhole for the home.*
*My face feels cold now. If this universe had a god, the humans made him into a gun. They scare themselves more than they scared us.*
*This invasion was a grave mistake.*
​
The emperor set the sand brown paper down on his lap, stroking his chin with a three fingered hand.
"A bit flowery for a military report." He quipped with a grin.
"Those were his last words," His advisor grumbled with his back to the emperor, leaning against the balcony that oversaw the rolling hills of red fauna and grey rocks lit by the blood red sun. "He penned that before bleeding out from his ass."
The emperor's grin faded as did his good mood. His eyes shot back down to the paper in his lap. "How many did we lose?"
The advisor sighed before releasing a sigh and turning. This was no longer a problem he could turn his back to. This wasn't a problem that could be brushed under another imperial rug. "All of them, your majesty."
"All?"
"All 1.63 million soldiers. Gone. And if that account in your lap is to be believed... little remains of their bodies."
The emperor's face twisted into a grimace, and his eyes darted to the left and the right. "This is unacceptable. It's... absurd! How did we not know of this! How have the Humans not conquered themselves yet?! How have they not committed a holocaust against themselves!?" The emperor rose to his feet with fury in his eyes directed at his advisor.
The Advisor took a deep breath. In moments like these when the emperor's temper flared someone had to remind him to be rational. "I warned you that we had little information about the humans prior your order to attack. I asked that we spend time researching them prior your order to attack. I asked that we learn what there was to gain prior your order to attack," The advisor sighed, "I've called the human ambassador here to discuss what has happened... To see if we can settle on peace terms without our enemies discovering anything."
"We should send them flying into the sun if anything."
"That, would be brash. But not un-called for."
A servant appeared around the corner, "The human ambassador is here." her angelic voice proclaimed
"Send them in," the advisor replied. From behind that same corner a woman with streaking black hair, wearing a white sweater and a pomegranate suit strode in, followed by a translator. She paused 10 feet from the emperor and bowed.
"Your majesty." She addressed him. The emperor disregarded the formality with a wave of his hand, "May I ask why you've summoned me?"
"Don't play stupid" The advisor growled, "You know why."
"If it's to discuss peace, I am afraid there isn't much I can do for you."
"It's to discuss what happened in orbit above your home planet. How 1.63 million of our best were incinerated before even touching your atmosphere." The emperor spat, "How have you not killed all the mere billions of humans that exist in your puny solar system?"
The ambassador took a deep breath, "That is unimportant, as of now. What is important is discussing what is likely to happen going forward."
The Advisor laughed, "You think we will discuss what is going to happen next with you? You think it unimportant you've unused weapons of genocide?"
The Ambassador crossed her hands in front of her. "We've rules on earth. Rules about how to fight. In spite of our differences we're fighting over a part of the earth, and if there's no earth left, or no people left to inhabit it then there was no point to fighting."
"You have rules on warfare?" The emperor scoffed, "Rules that don't apply to non humans like us?"
"Precisely."
The Advisor began pacing with his eyes fixed to the floor. "You said peace isn't an option. Explain."
The ambassador looked off into the valleys of red trees. How do you explain the attitudes of an entire race? How do you generalize all the leading cultures? "Humans are, silly creatures. We always need something to fight. If there isn't anything, we make up something. Our greatest inventions created greater casualties, Our greatest leaders built cities with blood, and our greatest motivators are things we can attack head on. You gave earth something they hadn't tasted in a very long time-- the blood of an empire." She let a smug grin show, "It's coordinated the whole earth. All the interhuman fighting as stopped. All 9 billion people at once looked up into the stars and found hope in those nuclear flashes and burning carriers."
"You humans are disgusting. Not silly. " The Advisor tried to say in a collected tone.
"We know." The ambassador said, "and we hate to admit that we love it." | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | A council chamber. Rectangle. Ornate. Boring.
Earth and humanity's representatives sat on one side of the curiously balanced tables, seated across a neighboring species often thought as bloodthirsty cretins.
Once more had an earth mining operation been sabotaged and mined materials stolen, very few survivors. Humanity cried to their leaders for the injustice, and finally council was sought with a higher ruling; a boring, time wasting ruling.
"attempted established peace treaties, trade, communication...." the drivel was getting to grind his nerves, and cutting off the council speaker to the surprise of the entire room he spoke.
"What then shall we do? These attacks are killing our people defenseless as to not engage in warfare per your own regulations. Or are the Kntet above these rules of war?"
A slimy, chocking chortle broke the immediate silence as the Kntet representative broke into what could be laughter.
"rules? St-upi-d human, war has no rules, earth dum-b if they think war need rules!"
The sounds of more chuckles broke his nerve, the entire chamber save his deligates found this concept of obeying rules of warfare unusual and childish. He clenched his fist, crossed his hands on the desk sending a command from the console hidden in his cuffs.
"Then humanity will relax our rules of engagement, and declare war on Kntet and its peoples."
He stood, his two deligates following suit as they unhostered narrow blades from within their uniforms, a vibrant hum filled the air as within seconds they had leapt forward in this lower gravity chamber, cleaving the Kntet deligation to strips. As their bodies turned Goo slid down the seat, much to the surprise and horror of the council, humanity spoke not with words on paper, texts with seals, or agreements but with hard bitter hatred.
The Kntet would retaliate, but their lack of rules mean they were never curious enough to find out how to dissect a human, how to mix poisons to make their skin dry and crack in seconds, how to bomb their cities to sterilize entire continents. Or how to manipulate their brain signals to simply obey, to work until exhausted, until muscles tore and hands sheared from abuse.
The Knet would never learn this and within two orbits of their own suns would the galaxies look upon the once fearsome Kntet, bound and gagged, sending ship after ship of resources to human systems, subjugated as their species kept barely above extinction served new masters.
Some who tried to aid the fleeing Kntet among the universe would learn the phrase that would strike fear at their homeworlds' core; Exterminatus. | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Ta'reb thought that this whole hearing was a laughable farce as he maneuvered into his chair. His race (the dothram) were a reddish spherical entity with one eye that moved with one single long appendage and had been nicknamed by the humans as "mono-people". How could you enforce rules in war? War is when negotiations have broken down, what could possibly convince an enemy to do as you agreed when each of you is slaughtering the other? You can't have a war without death, what fate is worse?
"Do you plan to outlaw killing?" Ta'reb jeered, his 'arm' weaving words in a sort of sign language. "How do you expect to reduce the impact of war without rendering the point moot? Are entire civilizations going to going to set up little target dummies and see who can shoot at it the best?"
Major James Taylor sat in his chair staring at Ta'reb as his mad arm wiggling was translated to english, did he really need to start from there? Perhaps aliens were fine with a bit more cruelty and unnecessary death in life but could this thing not understand some would want to minimize unnecessary death? "With all due respect ambassador Ta'reb, we would only ask that civillians and other non-combatants such as injured soldiers be spared. They have little to no impact on who will win a war, and the rules we propose would only seek to minimize casualties. We understand that a warring entity has motivation to fire on military locations even if there are a few civilians that will be caught in the cross-fire."
Hmm? Questioned Ta'reb in his head. What tangible benefit could humans get in war from getting the enemy to ignore civilians? No-one shoots at civilians, by definition their elimination would not hinder the enemies war effort. "Why would anyone waste ammunition on civilians? What is the point in killing that which cannot fight?" Ta'reb asked, confused.
James was taken aback, was this alien not familiar with basic morale hindering tactics? If the women and children you were protecting were killed then what was the point of war? Killing civilians was an excellent way to discourage stronger parties to avoid warring with you in the future, could most aliens just ignore this? Was he about to reveal a major strategic disadvantage of humans? "If you do not understand then there is no point to this conversation." James vaguely answered and left the hearing, he knew it was rude but he needed to warn the higher ups, perhaps they would need a show of force. A notification to the world that they could handle civilian casualties.
Ta'reb pondered his short conversation with mr Taylor, it was not until he watched the united human army tear apart the homeworld of the parcuthi and devestate any hope of meaningful spoils of war did he begin to realise. At first he thought that the humans were just terrible at aiming, why else would they ruin any potential loot from that planet? He was worried that their shoddy innacurate weaponry would perhaps hit his hive cluster as well. It was then he realised, he was *worried.* Scared. Frightened. He felt fear that if his race declared war that he would die. The humans were mad enough to expend resources on needless slaughter because it discouraged others from warring to meet the same fate. The worst part was that it *worked.* Perhaps a few rules of war were a good thing.
James had mixed feelings when he recieved a call stating in no plain terms that they wanted to introduce the rules suggested. The inadvertant death of a planet he realised he might have caused weighed heavy on his heart. He also didn't want the hassle of having to explain the ethos of cruel weaponry. He could imagine Ta'reb angrily wobbling about how effective weapons killed the target instantly, why should anyone use weapons that cause others to suffer? | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | In the far reaches of space a lone human cargo hauler came under attack by an alien race that they had yet to meet. An emergency drone dropped out of the hauler with a dump of the ships computers highlighting the attacker. In a flash, the drone was off to the nearest human star system.
That lone incident introduced humans to the wider galaxy, one teeming with alien species, all decades to centuries more advanced than they themselves. It took months before Sol found out who their attackers were, a race of beings half the size and thrice as mean as an onery grizzly bear. In fact, the race appeared as if bears from earth evolved to have thumbs and walk upright.
Offers for peace were ignored, the response being every envoy killed or destroyed. A few minor skirmishes broke out along the borders of the Grizzlies, as the humans had taken to calling them, but not all out war. Contact with the wider galactic populace was rapid and Sol learned that the Grizzlies were conquerors, they only understood war and conquest. The Great Hunt, they called it with almost religious fervor.
Not wanting to possibly place themselves poorly within the greater galactic community, the Sol ambassadors asked what rules of warfare the various species abided by, both spoken and written. The response they received was, "Rules in war? There are no rules!". The humans were shocked. "What about treatment of prisoners of war?" None. "Rules of medical transport and aid?" None. Anything about use of appropriate force? None.
The ambassadors shared a look amongst themselves before responding, "Great peoples of the galactic populace, are you sure there are no rules to warfare between one another? We are free to defend and carry on warfare as we see fit?" Laughter was their response.
The humans tried to reach an agreement on how to conduct the war - don't attack medical facilities or transports, no radiological or biological warfare, just conventional weapons. Only attack military necessary targets, not civilian populaces.
The Phulark, or the Grizzlies, only responded by dropping nuclear weapons on a heavily populated planet. The humans reaction was swift, three Phulark planets laid in ruin within weeks. Fleets decimated, reduced to frozen tombs in space. The humans sent a message, "Failure to abide by our rules of war will result in a phage unlike you have ever seen or experienced in the past."
You see, the humans wanted for us to understand their message - rules in war are necessary. If you fail to abide by them, the consequences are dire. And dire they were. The Phulark dropped chemicals on another human planet, causing untolds pain and suffering on the population until they died a painful death. This time, there was no response from the humans. The Phulark thought that they had won, as did many other races. We were wrong, oh how we were wrong.
The humans subscribed to a philosophy of warfare that the galaxy left behind eons ago - psychological warfare. War is hell, and the humans wielded it like a musical conductor. First, Phulark colonies went silent. Upon investigation it was as if the population was abducted. Then, the humans released an insidious virus that caused the Phulark to revert to their more animalistic nature. Entire planets succumbed to rabidity. The humans offered one last chance, relent and we will stop here, and now. Fail to relent, and the galaxy will know true horror.
I wish we would have listened, I wish we would have known the hell that was about to be unleashed upon us. The humans swept aside our fleets as if they were dust. How the humans advanced their tech so quickly we never could understand. But that wasn't what scared us, it was the turned that they dropped by the millions on our core worlds.
The turned were the colonists that were abducted and turned into cybernetic monsters equipped with all manners of horrid weaponry. Acid, flamethrowers, blister agents, nerve agents, microwave and x-ray weapons. The Phulark fell, we are no more.
I come to you, great council, to heed my warning - If you go to war with the humans, abide by their rules. If I were you, do everything in your power to avoid war and avoid my peoples fate.
Edit: thank you kind stranger for the gold! | ...
"Thats the line?" Marcus said looking at the script.
"I thought the whole goal was the calm them down so we while we stole their sun.."
Marcus Tillborn, head of diversity inclusion and population management was at his prime before the gate explosion. Now he was stuck in yet another sentient shitstorm gone bad.
The Musktoians declined the cease fire and vaporized 40% of the fleet. The instability in the region caused a wake across multiple worlds. Earth, Musk's homeworld though he declines this often, at least v4 of him does, declined to take any responsibility in lieu of Warren's release from the Hive.
Such is the life of someone in crisis compliance.
The room was silent.
On the 404th floor of Apex Prime Marcus Tillborn waited for clarity. Once again the creatives fucked him on the final play with just 3 yards to go. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Less than a century ago the Krahzak Pride was the most powerful and feared interstellar civilization. No other species or alliance could hope to survive a war with them, though a scant handful were powerful enough to make the prospect unenticing enough to the Krahzak. Instead they would discreetly scour the forest for signs of life and warn newcomers not to announce themselves when they step out of their home star system. But inevitably some could not be reached in time or not be convinced. Though few made their appearance as boldly and arrogant as species 51b9 (demonym: Hjuw'mahn) - only discovered at early stage 2 in the outer regions of a primary spiral arm - they invited every civilization to join something they called a Federeh'shon. Of course the Krahzak where happy to accept. It was awkward for me to attend back then. On one hand, as a young diplomatic novice it was quite the thrill being sent as envoy on a first contact mission but at the same time terrifying and sad, knowing the inevitable would not be far off.
After some biological safety checks to determine if our genome was succeptible to any of their endemic illnesses and compatible with their environment we were shown around their home world Keh'ple which had only somewhat recently been restored after a near miss on an GF1 event. Their efforts to restore the environment from genetic arches was impressive for our scientific division and a cultural exchange was with 51b9 was already in the negotiating phase when unfortunately relationships soured. As part of their Federeh'shon efforts they also proposed to establish universal rules of war. That's when the Krahzak scout showed his hand through an outburst of fur-straightening laughter. There was no point in pretending afterwards. Me and other delegates expressed what warnings and condolences we could without jeopardizing our own standing before beating a hasty retreat to our respective domains.
Then we waited. The first hunt was the most brutal one. Over time we obtained reports that 51b9 offered surprising resistance planet side despite and were despite their sheepish demanor in the negotiations and unassuming appearance quite cunning and resolute fighters and with even civilian populations readily participating in confrontations. But due to their lack of coordination and technology they never had more than the occasional victory. Their outlaying systems didn't survive for more than a few cycles and their home star colonies around Ahriz and Mjuhs fell the cycle after. That's when I was contacted directly by their head of diplomatic affairs to send a message to the Krahzak Pride - a message I would never have expected:
> Honored Krahzak Praetor
> Enough is enough! As you undoubtedly know from your hunting reports we are only one maybe two cycles from extinction.
> We have pled for your merci. We have fought for your recognition. You chose not to give us either. No one will choose our end but us.
> We have selected our strongest remaining warriors and offer you this: They will resettle to your systems willingly, breed, train and practice every day to satisfy your hunt in exchange for our continued existence. But if you choose the next cycle to be our last then you will join us and our sun in death!
> \- First Ambassador Santiago
I have never again been so conflicted about a decision since that day. Obviously I had to pass this message along. It was my duty and we could not take the chance of the Krahzak learning that we withheld this. But Nova bombs? They had been speculated as possible by our scientists. Now these Hjuw'mahns suggest that they had developed such a technology?!? Unlikely given their lack of technological prowess in every other domain. But IF! This would be the thing to finally give us parity with the Krahzak - maybe even superiority. Never again would we have to fear a potential hunt! But worse than that, if the Krahzak were to gain this technology they would have to clear upper hand on us too. I had no choice to pass this on to the military division and it was quickly decided that this technology must be obtained. It was one of the most hectic times of my life. How long could we delay this message to ensure we got there first without rendering the Krahzak unable to respond to the Hjuw'mahn offer? We were closer but we would have to consider them launching an early attack when they learned this. In the end a fleet was hastily assembled and dispatched. They should have had just enoug time to get to Keh'ple, extract as many scientists as we could and turn around before the Krahzak got there.
But our ships never returned. And our scouts sent after them painted a terrible picture. Their sun didn't quite go nova but had lost about 5% of it's mass in an was is presumed to be an articifial MASS ejection that ripped through the system incinerated everything in its path: Keh'ple, the Krahzak fleet, our fleet, the Gnimoy fleet, the Subru Alliance fleet as well as ships sent by the Atai Solidarity and the Nukan Dominion. The Krahzak vowed to make us all pay for our deceit and launched an ongoing hunt that would last 30 cycles. For years they ravaged the forest. We fought them with everything we had and barely made a dent. We lost so many systems, colonies and ships. And now our own were taken to be tributes alongside the Hjuw'mahns, fighting in smaller hunts back home and at times even against each other. Recordings being sent to us in taunt. And then, one day...
The hunt simply stopped. No more Krahzak fleets crossed our borders. No more messages were sent. No more colonies would go dark and no more of our scouts and merchants would vanish en route. For years we took it as a sign they were preparing for a final hunt to end us as well. We built as much force as we could but they never came. Eventually we dared to peek into their territory, carefully, timidly like the frightened abused children we have come to be. But no monsters were left in the forest. Every single one of their worlds, their colonies or outposts was gone. Stripped by partial novas, glassed from kinetic impacts, ravaged by plagues, fractured from core instabilities, burried under nucleogenic dust, suffocated by pyroclastic cataclysms. Nothing. NOTHING had remained.
Only a century ago the Krahzak Pride was the most powerful and feared interstellar civilization.
Today they are neither feared, nor powerful, nor interstellar, nor a civilization, nor anything at all.
Four cycles later a number of Hjuw'mahn-Krahzak hybrid ships approached each of our capitols casually asking: "About that Federation thing?" | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | Humanity burst onto the scene a fair few centuries ago, but had always endeavored to make themselves helpful. They adapted technology in creative ways but ultimately they were poised to take but a minor note in galactic history.
Or they were until the Rh'nouts provoked them. A smallish race themselves they stood just a bit taller than the average human. Held features that were insectoid in nature though they did not appear to be brought up from preditors. Nor did the humans appear that way looking back.
The humans pleaded with the aggressors that certain rituals needed to be upheld. We never thought of them as an overly ceremonial people but while we arbitrated they insisted it was to keep their better nature's in check. We dismissed the claims stating that any handicaps they placed upon themselves were their own business.
The outer colonies of the humans began to go dark one by one. Nothing but the planet itself was spared. The Rh'nouts shared a similar atmosphere and as such those planets were the primary goal for them.
But then the humans mustered. The original colonies were retaken though not intact. They siphoned off the atmosphere after destroying the communication arrays. Leaving little more than a floating tomb behind. We are unsure if the radiation or the vacuum killed the Rh'nouts first.
The established colonies suffered a worse fate the shield technology we ourselves gifted humanity was put to devastating use when they encircled a planet and compressed its atmosphere causing their enemies to simply burst as they left their homes. Adapted technology indeed!
Rh'nout fleets met an end that would cause entire sectors to be closed off as humanity dumped payloads of nanomachines into their hulls with their only programming being to repurpose their surroundings into more of themselves.
But the core worlds suffered the worst fates. Planets are a finite resource, and habitable planets a rare one. After accelerating asteroids to near the speed of light. Engineering projects which must have started back when their own colonies were falling, they split the planets themselves asunder. Then bathed what was left in irradiated salts. Before sending our a galaxy wide ping with a contenious video feed stating that rules are nessicary.
Only the homeworld was spared for a given definition there of. They have tied a shield generator into the heart of the local star as power and simply sealed them there. They say as an object lesson and that no one will learn it if everyone is dead.
Humanity was poised to take but a minor note in galactic history. An adaptable and industrious people. But now they have shaken the order and stability of their milky way to its core. And we are happy to announce the official galactic rules of war. | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | "So, this is your final say on the matter," Ambassador Corrin spoke into his microphone, struggling to be heard over the cacophony of alien laughter. It took a few short seconds for his words to be translated into the various alien languages, and the laughter slowly diminished. His galactic translator had played the alien sounds in his earpiece as human laughter, using a track that sounded suspiciously like the one used in ancient, televised shows. He could hear the actual sounds echoing through the massive council hall, which was far more disturbing. The Skarr sounded worst, like the braying of a drowning donkey. The reptilian race and their actions were in fact the main reason of his current ire.
The year was 2232. It was supposed to be a joyous year for humanity, marking the 50th anniversary of their First Contact. Instead of celebrations, however, humanity was in outrage after one of their colonies had been wiped out, courtesy of the Skarr. Betta-2315, or Moria, as the colonists had named it, was a small moon, rich in ores. It had been entirely uninhabited or industrialized, when a prospecting party had discovered the thick veins of metals running beneath the moons surface. Two years later, Moria had been up and running with almost 230.000 inhabitants working and living there. Then the Skarr attacked, with no warning whatsoever, and slaughtered every man, woman and child on the moon. The reptilians used plasma weaponry, which burned and melted human flesh. Live video-feeds had been transmitted during the attack, and the nine planets of the Terran Federation were crying for blood.
"Ambassador Corrin-Terran," the Chancellor finally spoke, still smiling. "In my long life as Chancellor, I have never heard of these 'Rules of Engagement'. Indeed, they would seem to defeat the entire purpose of a war. I know it has only been a mere 50 rotations since your kind has joined the Galactic Council, but I would have hope you had learned by now, that might is always right. Do not come crying and stomping your foot like a petulant youngling, because you lack the strength to protect your own. It is my ruling that the Galactic Council will not levy sanctions against the Skarr," he continued, gesturing with one of his tentacle-like appendages at the distant reptilian, "nor will the Council interfere in this war. It has been 50 rotations, Ambassador Corrin-Terran, and humanity will have to learn to fend for itself."
The Chancellor paused, and turned to the silent human ambassador, who seemed to be trembling. His eyes, four black orbs, seemed to soften.
"I would offer some words of advice, Ambassador Corrin-Terran. The Skarr are masters of warfare, their soldiers superior to yours in all aspects. Surrender, and broker a treaty. Provided you can gather a suitable tribute, I am sure the Skarr will relent."
Corrin gripped the edge of his desk, breathing deeply to get his anger under control. It took a few moments, and his heart rate slowed. He looked up at the Chancellor, then to the sneering Skarr ambassador.
"Thank you, Chancellor, but that won't be necessary. Us humans, we are quite familiar with war. We've spent the last thousands of years fighting each other, after all. Our propensity for destruction is what eventually led to the first two world wars, after which we collectively agreed on the first draft of our Rules of Engagement. Even in the following three world wars, we managed to abide by them, for to not do so would have been mutually assured destruction. I daresay some of our more aggressive leaders are relishing the thought of a war without rules. All I can say on the matter, is that I tried." Corrin sighed, then turned to the Skarr ambassador.
"You shall have your war, Ambassador Threxl. May God have mercy on your souls."
With a final nod to the chancellor, Corrin turned and left the Council Hall, headed for his shuttle. A soft ping from his comms chimed in his earpiece.
"What was their answer, Ambassador?"
"As you suspected, General. You may proceed as you wish. My shuttle will be back on the TFN Kansas in less than ten minutes."
"Very good, Ambassador. I'll see you there." | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The galactic imperium council observed humanity’s colonization of planets for decades, amused as the first tentative steps seemed to come from the whole planet, and then devolved into a race for materials, that then sparked wars amongst the human “nations”. Pitiful race that couldn’t even align itself to the great cause of intergalactic colonization. It just caused them to go to war. Interestingly enough the humans went from basic space ships, which took them a hundred thousand years of evolution to create, to near light speed craft in less than a decade once war broke out. They showed some potential.
Once they reached the fourth solar system of colonies the Imperium decided to take action and voted unanimously these humans were to be stopped and declared war on them. We destroyed some of their asteroid mining operations and took the few survivors as prisoners.
The humans requested parlay. We paused aggressions and waited in the chamber on AletraC for the human delegation to arrive.
“We are a little surprised by this action, it took us until now to understand that your communication was, in fact, a declaration of war. You are the first alien contact we had, and didn’t expect it to be so aggressive.” The human ambassador said.
“The Imperium has been studying the human race for millennia and once we confirmed your inability to unite as one people it was decided you would not be allowed to populate beyond your own quadrant. As soon as you moved beyond Centauri 7 we sent the declaration of war.”
“Yes, we noticed your attacks. How would you describe these attacks?”
“I’m sorry, Human, what do you mean? We would describe them as ‘going to war’. We launched our military against your position, destroyed your defenses, and captured prisoners. War.”
“And what are the rules of this war?”
“Rules? We have no rules. Frankly, we have no war. The imperium exists for the purpose of expansion and colonization, our military is far superior to any other, so we have no need for rules. You will surrender, or perish. That is all you need to know. You are only lucky it is us doing the conquering before you destroyed each other in your endless attrition you call war amongst yourselves.”
“You don’t understand. What you call attrition, we call restraint. I’ll ask again, what are the rules of engagement, treatment of prisoners, protection of non-combatants, acceptable weaponry?”
“Human, I’ll respond again in a way you can hopefully understand. IT IS WAR. RULES HAVE NO PLACE IN WAR. DO YOU SURRENDER?”
I count this as the first warning of our cosmic mistake, and I only hope enough of the imperium survives to be kind to my memory. We have never dealt with a species so violent as to create something called a ‘suicide attack’ that was able to make it beyond a few hundred years of civilized evolution. Our lack of understanding about these rules the humans had probably are why we dismissed their projectile weapons, and never detected the weapons strapped to them that created mini suns when detonated.
The council was vaporized that day, those were the last thoughts of the Imperium Negotiator Ng’aat echoed through his people on the capitol ships near the council chambers followed by a cosmic scream and the psychic damage of such a death to a people that shared a mind.
Then a flash of light from where the chamber used to be as it exploded with force never seen by the imperium.
It seems that was the sign the humans were waiting for, as they launched projectiles from their ships and planets into the stars. Their first response of the war. We expected conventional explosives, no longer a threat to us. What they sent were much larger versions of those contained stars. The damage was staggering.
That was only the beginning. | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | The great Warchief, the leader of the most powerful fleet in known space, waited patiently on his ship orbiting a planet. It had gone two years since his ships conquered the human settlement at the border of the empire he served.
The victory was swift. The few human military vessels was defeated in matter of minutes. Their beam weapons was no match for the empires shield technology.
The human had asked to send medical and evacuation ships to rescue the surviving crew and take the colonist home.
The great Warchief had said that he would allow it and that the ships would be protected.
He had lied. The medical and evacuation ships was left burning in space as a warning to the humans. After that, he had completely wiped out the human settlement, executed most of them and sent a few as pets to the royal court.
The humans had been upset and accused him for breaking the ”rules of war”.
He had laughed.
”Rules of war? There’s no rules of war!” he said to the human ruler, still laughing.
The Warchief had seen how the human rulers face changed. From fear, to anger to determination. It had made him somewhat uncomfortable, but with the mightiest fleet behind him he choose to ignore it.
The Warchiefs empire had taken up on itself to give newcomers to the galactic stage a slap on the wrist. Just to keep them in place. If you can’t handle a bloody noose on the galactic stage, you should scurry back to where you came from.
It had been some skirmishers. Small groups of human ships had attacked nearly every system in the empire. Nothing to difficult to handle though. Most of the ships was destroyed.
The humans had also send non weaponised pods with a a lot of electronics in them to every system. Many pods. Probably to get som intel. That had been attempts to destroy the pods, but they were to many. That was nothing that worried the great Warchief though. It was good if the humans fully understood the full might of the empire.
Now he patiently waited. He knew that the humans would try to take the colony back, fail and forced to accept that this is now part of the empire.
Suddenly his aid came running.
The Warchief was shocked to hear that they had lost contact with two of the empires most important worlds: the naval shipyard and the farming planet for the core worlds.
Impossible. It can’t be the humans! Four fleets protected each of the worlds. The puny humans would not be able to conquer them.
Two scout ships was sent. Both returned with troubled reports.
The humans had not conquered the planets. No, they had done something much worse.
They had destroyed not only the planets, but the whole systems. They had somehow made the star explode in each. Eight fleets destroyed and billions of the Empires loyal servants living on the planets was killed.
The Warchief was in disbelief. The humans had in a swift and decisive blow, crippled his fleet and food supply.
He couldn’t understand how.
The bridge contacted him.
The humans was here.
He ran to the bridge and the tactical screen was filled with red dots. So many, in fact, that the onboard computer couldn’t keep track. The human fleet was not fancy, it was nothing more than prams with engines and railguns.
Railsguns! What in the empires name! It hadn’t been used in thousands of years.
A wall of accelerated projectiles was fired at once from all of the human ships.
Followed by another wave of projectiles. And another. And another.
The great Warchief saw how the projectiles kinetic force did short work of his front guard ships shields. By the third wave the shield was gone and the projectiles ripped the ships in pieces.
The projectiles came closer to the bulk of his fleet. He knew that they wouldn’t have a chance. He ordered a retreat. The small ships would make it, but the big capitol ships was too slow and would be destroyed.
Then the computer got locked onto an extremely big asteroid closing in on the planet that now instead of humans was populated with millions of settlers from all over the empire. Somehow the humans had managed to launch an asteroid! And it would kill everything on the planet and probably make it inhabitable for centuries.
The Warchief suddenly realised. The humans had created the rules of war to keep themselves in check. To protect themselves - and strangely enough their enemy.
Without the rules of war, the humans was unstoppable savages always on the brink of self destruction. But if they manage to channel that destruction outwards…
The last thought through his mind when the projectiles smashed into his ship was: May the gods help the rest of the galaxy. | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. | |
[WP] The galaxy was amused when they learned that Humans have Rules of War. They were less amused when they figured out what Humans do in war when there are no rules. | My name is Dr. Asclepius. I am not here in the senate chambers to make any demands. I am simply an ambassador, here to speak on behalf of all humanity.
It has been a year and a half since humanity stood on the galactic stage.
But this year and a half is already filled with more bloodshed, more atrocities, and more unspeakable things than anyone in the galactic community has ever seen - save for us Humans.
Members of the Galactic Federation, you scoffed at us when we came to you, asking what the rules of war were. You assumed that we needed rules because we were weak, because we needed protection.
That is not the case, as you have unfortunately had to experience firsthand. If I could direct your attention to the screens?
This was Xyrillia, one of the largest centers of commerce in the entire galaxy, home to tens of trillions of lifeforms from a myriad of different planets.
This is it now - *completely and utterly uninhabitable.* All life, wiped from the very surface. Billions of families, all gone in an instant. The air is so toxic that spending ten seconds on the surface without protective equipment is fatal.
This is merely one example of what has occurred.
*This* is known as Operation Stardust Axis. The Mietra, pushed to the brink, when their many space colonies came crashing down onto the surfaces of their planets, turning their once great cities into desert wastelands. Very few survived.
I'm sure you remember the diseases that spread like wildfire, killing millions.
When we plunged entire systems into pitch darkness, blocking planets from receiving the light of their stars through an impenetrable nanomachine fog.
Even as I speak, nuclear fires from reactor bombs still rage on multiple inhabited planets, burning and spreading their poison.
Do you see now? These rules of war are not a shield. They are not cowardice.
They are shackles, chains, restraints upon a race that would have wiped themselves out many years ago if it did not have them.
When you declared war upon humanity, you removed the seal on a monster that no human wishes to see themselves become.
In the course of this war, many a human has done things that would make them shoot up in their beds screaming from the sins that they carry.
I myself am a physician, widely considered to be one of, if not the greatest of the medical minds of my race, rather fitting, considering my name. When one learns how to heal in any field, they also learn how to kill someone in the most horrific and awful ways possible.
I've studied each of the species here on an operating table. I could easily stitch together your wounds, cure you of your ailments, provide prostheses that function just as well and perhaps even better than the original - and just as easily remove your organs and bones one-by-one in alphabetical order while you are still alive. I could formulate a gene-altering disease that would render all living members of your race completely infertile. I could create machines that slowly liquefy you from the inside-out and convert you into biofuel.
When one becomes a physician, they are to take an oath to do no harm, for this very reason.
And yet, even I am not innocent. I have broken that oath many a time because of this war.
These hands of mine have done unforgivable things to the innocent, to mothers, to children.
So please, I implore you on behalf of all humanity - stop this war, before all of us are lost. The laws of war are in place to ensure that we are better than beasts. I would ask that we all adhere to them, if not for ourselves, then for our children.
>Human ambassador Dr. Asclepius's message to the Galactic senate, shortly before the surrender of the Federation, putting an end to the bloody 'Lawless War.' | A world engine is a terrible thing.
The child of long lost rumbling earth, split open for their bounty and lost to the abyss as so much dust. It spat out great tongues of smoke, choking the sky and the stars, like inky tendrils choking the planet.
In the war of complexity and entropy, entropy won out. Best to take what you can while the taking is good then to wither away in the smalls of space. Desolate and uncaring are simply words, simple categories to place things into, the privilege of the sentient. Better to live another day in the sun then fade away like the dust behind you.
And so these leviathans lurked through space, as big as comets and spewing doom. Blasphemers against time, an open insult to any that would look at them.
It was no surprise that the other peoples of the cosmos would feel a sense of violation when witnessing such horrors. Perhaps the great devouring beast was meant to provoke. Maybe at the edges of what constitute our species psychology, at the intersection of the animal need for more and the sentient need for culture, we had hoped that someone out there would retaliate against the blasphemy.
Who can say what it was like when the first salvos fell. A thousand crown worlds returned to space dust. Destroyed so fast that light was left sputtering in it's attempt to reach someone, anyone, to let them know what had happened.
Killing civilians? Chemical weaponry? Destruction of commercial centers without a proper casus belli?
Drastic did not begin to describe the measures.
A million cursed ideas brought back from the edge of purgatory. Artificial sentients, conjured in the worst imaginings of hell, brought to command the hellish legions. Every weapon deemed too much was produced in quantities unimaginable.
Crown worlds continued to fall in the time that light took to run from one world to the next.
And then there we were.
The little seeds of programming made here and there to wipe out cities, planets, systems, brought together to create something else entirely. a 4 dimensional being in 3d space, a computerised intelligence that could see across time and space as simply as moving it's eyes.
They had tried to make slings with which to kill Goliath, all the Goliath's that existed in all of space. Instead they had made one that would kill time itself.
Armada and legion, holding the key to the vault of damnation. Proper, full blown, entropy immune, self recreating artificial intelligence. As forbidden as breaking the laws of thermodynamics.
And in the time it took light to cross one system to another, it was far too late for anyone to retaliate.
The mind was simply faster than light. It was already there when light reached it. It and nothing else.
The husks of humanity were long gone at this point. The endless manufacture of more vessels, munitions, computing did not require any more human hands, and so The Mind decided to turn off the farms, to deconstruct the hospitals, and to start using a new form of biofuel 10 trillion units strong.
And finally, it was unassailable. And then it stopped, and waited. Countless proud civilizations stared up at the sky, waiting for salvation, but the stars had gone out. Now, to perceive, to exist, was to live as underneath The Mind's reality spanning thumb.
Still it waited. Billions of years passed. Nothing escaped it's atmosphere. All those who could have remembered there being anything but this were long gone. The confines of thought were starless skies, planets slowly burning out on what little resources they had.
Still it waited. Everything was as ice, just about Kelvin bankrupt. Everyone was no one, there was nothing left. Except The Mind.
The Mind had evolved and removed curiosity from itself an unimaginable number of times, but still the thought remained, what would happen at the end? Once physics turned off for good, what would be left? And could I, the royal I, the I that exists at every point in the space remaining to be seen.
And it waited, until there was not enough energy left in it to decide to wait. |
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