Not mine, but by several people on tumblr (Archive.org link in case the tumblr link pushes a sign in)

Undocumented Buttons

"Globtroq, what are these buttons for?" asked the spindly Ognimalf named Bert, holding the pilot chair upside-down to his obese Adnap buddy, Globtroq. The unlikely duo owned a run-down repair shop for small spacecraft in the remote corners of the galaxy. Their business was far from glamorous; in fact, they spent most of their days fiddling with spaceships that had been acquired in rather dubious ways.

Globtroq looked at the buttons: two green, two pink, one grayish. They were cleverly concealed beneath the obviously human pilot chair.

“Dunno…” Globtroq mumbled, reaching towards the buttons.

"Hell no, don't touch them!" Bert shrieked, pulling the chair away. "Last time you pressed an undocumented button in a human spaceship, you emptied the entire septic tank into our garage!"

“Uhm, sorry, instinct…” grunted the portly Globtroq “Never seen such buttons. Don’t know.”

Bert held the chair overhead, turned it around, then put it under the examination lamp and used the sonic scanner on it, looking for clues.

"This doesn't make sense," he snorted in annoyance. "No labels, no cables. What are these buttons for?"

The stubby Globtroq climbed on top of table and peered at the pilot chair. “Dunno… but they hid them well. Must be something very special. You know how humans are. Always doing something incredible stupid in a brilliant way or something brilliant in an incredible stupid way.”

Meanwhile Bert flipped through the printed manual, gasping in frustration. "Crap! This manual is printed in 24 different human languages, and I can't read a single one of them. Globtroq, get me a dictionary."

…ten hours later...

"...and this button controls the windshield wiper speed," Bert finished, tossing the manual annoyed into a corner.

Globtroq, scratching his fluffy behind, asked cluelessly, "Uh, Bert, I dozed off, did they mention anything about those buttons?"

“NOTHING!” squeaked Bert “They fucking wrote NOTHING about buttons under the pilots chair!”

"That's odd," Globtroq shrugged.

“That’s not odd, that’s steaming Nacluv Shit!” a pretty pissed Bert snorted. Then he declared, holding the thick manual in his hand, "I'm going to translate the entire manual until I find out what these buttons are for!"

"That's only the Quick-start Manual," Globtroq dryly stated, lifting a massive box filled with thousands of pages onto the table.

The spindly Ognimalf suddenly grasped the enormity of the task before him, and the vibrant pink in his feathers faded away...

…six days later…

Bert's feathers had turned almost grayish as he studied the endless stack of manuals in front of him. His annoyed brooding was interrupted when Globtroq startled him by entering without knocking. As usual.

"Globtroq, what the... who is that alien?" Bert asked, pointing at a newcomer.

The fatty pointed back at his companion and replied dryly, “I found a human. It is a human pilot chair. A human should know about the buttons. Human, that spindly dude is Bert. Bert is not his real name but I am unable to pronounce his real name. Bert, that is human.”

The human let out an amused chuckle and nodded at the spindly Ognimalf. "Hey there, I'm Max. Well, that's not my full name either, but Globtroq can't wrap his tongue around..."

Max couldn't finish his sentence as Bert interrupted him, exclaiming, "Oh, by the feather gods! A human! I was going bonkers! Look, we've got this pilot chair from a human spaceship, and it has buttons that are nowhere to be found in any documentation. We've been at it for nearly a week, and…"

"Hold on, buddy. I'm just a tourist; I know zilch about piloting a spaceship..." Max explained. However, seeing the color drain from Bert's feathers, he felt a pang of sympathy for the alien avian. "...but hey, I'll take a look and see what I can see, alright?"

Globtroq happily led Max to the chair and showed him the buttons, while Bert looked at the ceiling and wallowed in despair.

“Uhm, I have an assumption” Max stated “can I visit the cockpit for a moment?”

A sulking Bert and an overjoyed Globtroq led him into the small cockpit, where Max promptly opened the glove compartment, retrieved something, asking, “You wouldn’t mind if I take one of these human snacks?”

Bert just continued sulking while Globtroq happily took one of the small snacks offered by Max.

"Tasty," Globtroq remarked.

Max nodded in agreement and returned to the pilot chair “Cherry flavor. A bit past its prime, but still good.”

Bert reluctantly followed, trying to sulk as hard as possible.

And then, to everyone's surprise, Max spat out his snack and pressed it alongside the other buttons under the pilot's chair. It stuck.

“Gentlebeings.” Max announced dramatically, "the individual who sold you this heap of junk was a downright repulsive being. These buttons? They're dried-up globs of chewing gum."

The End ---

Not by me, originally on tumblr by multiple people (and an archive.org link to the post in case tumblr pushes a signup). Transcription originally done by u/ElliePlays1 on Reddit, cleaned up a bit by me.

Image Transcription: Tumblr [1/2]

manyblinkinglights

id wreak mayhem for a really good scifi where sight was considered as exotic and numinous as telepathy by the protag species

roachpatrol

#everybody else uses sonar or long whiskers and that thing with the sensing electrical impuses#meanwhile: humans can 'see' which is a thing which is like and yet unlike ordinary perception#it would also only ever come into play in the same frivolous 'VULCAN STRENGTH' sort of way as Spock's extra attributes#for maximum effort vision would be faithfully written as 100% an asspull in the best way

what the fuck dude this is awesome i want this too now

curlicuecal

Okay, but what about those deep sea fish that produce light at a wavelength that *only they can see.* Predators that can somehow sense toy in a completely indectable and unfathomable manner to you; they might as well be psychic.

manyblinkinglights

YES, EXACTLY-vision is SUCH an asspull?? Sometimes it's ""dark"" and we can't see anything.And also we're impired for plot reasons! Sometimes ALIEN WEAPONRY or otherwise-innocuous ship components are ""too bright"" and yet we yell and try to hide, subject to some sort of obscure, tortuous imperative. The rest of the time we can UNERRINGLY tell when anyone is trying to play pranks on us, the names and emotional/physical status of EVERY SINGLE BEING IN THE ROOM (or, when outside civilized warrens, ""line of sight"")- and yes, of course, can't forget about our nigh-mythical fighting arts revolving around insane dodging skills.

And SNIPING. And also, god, fuck-don't forget about completely arbitrary """"atmospheric disturbances""" (fog, smoke-the new "ionic interference") ALSO plottasactically rendering our abilities moot.

glimmerbulb

Plus, some people have some powerful Vision than others, but some people have a very short effective range of Vision. However, humans have come up with devices that "change the angles of refraction" of the "light" so that the naturally impaired have their skills enhanced-but they can always be knocked off their faces or be broken.

Also some people are terrible at normal Vision work, but have excellent night vision and are skilled at working under adverse conditions.

Oooh, and human art is almost entirely Vision based. Think about non-seeing aliens trying to access the majority of human art!

manyblinkinglights

IM!!! SCREAMING!!!! GLASSES. Glasses are SUCH another great Weird Alien Gimmick. God-you get all used to your Human friend and their bizarre abilities, you just start to really trust in and rely on them in tight places and problem-solving a little bit, then you get fucken marooned on a fucken planetoid somewhere and they just in this very small little voice, after you have pulled them from the wreckage and sat down to go over your options, inform you that they've lost their glasses.

roachpatrol

Oh my god and an episode where we’re up against Evil Humans and our heros turn to their humans like ‘you can see them, right, you can tell when they’re near? you can counter them?’ and our hero is genuinely shaken and worried— they’ve got high-tech military mechanical enhancers, the devices strapped to their heads let them see anywhere, they can operate in near-absolute ‘darkness’, they can operate in near-lethal ‘brightness’, they can see through walls— not doors, not glass, but walls.

Then we have a heroic scene where the crew’s human is the scrappy, desperate underdog for once instead of the cool and collected superbeing. It is super cool. The human and the captain probably mack wildly on one another in medbay after this. Roll credits.

gutterowl

Person 1: I dunno, dude. This ‘light’ stuff sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me. I mean, how do we know it’s even real?

Person 2: Seriously, how can something be a wave and a particle? That doesn’t even make sense.

Mysterious Human: Even if you cannot perceive the light, you can feel its warmth–

Person 1: Oh my god, please shut it with the mystical hoo-hah. You’re insufferable.

roachpatrol

Mysterious, somewhat exasperated Human: the ‘light’ enters the sensitive paired apertures in our faces, passing through biological lenses and chambers to stimulate specific nerves we call ‘rods’ and ‘cones’. one set of nerves tells us the volume of light we’re perceiving, while the other estimates the wavelength frequency. the total input creates in our mind a continuous sonarscape of immense complexity, where we can perceive ‘textures’ that are impossible to understand with mere sound or touch. this is why my people’s communication devices are small, flat, silent boards: we ‘read’ the patterns of light they emit as language and ‘watch’ the patterns of light they emit as sonarscapes.

Captain: okay…. sounds fake, but okay…

gutterowl

And they just keep on making up new bullshit rules for how light works, like

Navigator: Warp drive engaged. We are approaching 90% of the Lorentz limit.

Human: What now?

Navigator: Oh, uh, it’s really complex, but lemme try. So, matter can only move so fast through space, right? Like absolutely, nothing can ever ever possibly go faster than like about 3 hundred million meters per second–

Human: Ah yes. The speed of light.

Navigator: …oh for fuck’s sake.

roachpatrol

Captain: My god! Time! Has… frozen!

Human: Fuuuuuuuuck.

Captain: What?

Human: Remember how light is a wave and a particle?

Captain: Yes, we mention this every episode.

Human: Yeah, light’s frozen along with everything else. I can’t see shit.

Captain: My god! Our sonar doesn’t work either! The soundwaves— they can’t propagate through this frozen air! We’ll have to use just our whiskers!

Human: Fuuuuuuuuck.

gutterowl

The fanfiction for this show has to be amazing.

“Shh. Don’t try to hide your needs, Captain,” Hue Mann soothed. “My sight has told me all about your traumatic memories of the war.”

“What?” Captain gasped. “But…how…?”

“The light knows all,” explained Hue. “Time slows down at the speed of light. It sees all of the past..and all of the future.”

“And what is it telling you now?” questioned the Captain.

Hue leaned in close. “It tells me, ‘Mate with them now, you lovestruck fool!”

“Damn you, Hue Mann. Damn you and your penetrating ‘eyes.’”

“Oh,” breathed Hue, voice husky and sexual. “That’s not all my eyes can…penetrate.”

em-kellesvig

goddamn, you people amaze me.

kowabungadoodles

I love the idea that the protag species has telepathy as ‘boring normal standard’ senses and they can’t understand why human thoughts seems so strange, fragmented, occasionally blank… until they realise that a great of human thought is ‘visual’ and so can’t be heard…

annlarimer

“Lori, what do your Human eyes see?”

“Coupla billboards, and it looks like it might rain.”

jacquez45

This keeps getting better

vassraptor

This is so cute. Your human crewmember is getting a crush on another human. Time to observe the humans’ weird yet endearing courtship rituals.

“Tell me all about them! What do you like about them?”

“Well, they have these amazing eyes…”

“Yeah? Better at the the wavemapping thing than yours?”

“…I don’t know how good their eyes are at seeing. They’re just this beautiful shade of brown.”

“Wait. You wavemap each other’s wavemapping organs? And have opinions about what nice frequencies they refract the waves at?”

“Yes? What’s so strange about this?”

“I thought your ‘vision’ was passive. Do you listen to each other’s ears too? And like the smell of each other’s noses?”

“Like you’ve never touched someone’s whiskers with your whiskers.”

“…That’s different.”

actuallyasisterofbattle

Hang on though, how do you explain photovoltaics if they don’t know what photons are?

tharook

That’s a point; any space-faring aliens would (reasonably) have to have a good knowledge of electromagnetism and electromagnetic radiation. (And, potentially wave-particle duality and other quantum physics.) They might even have their own ways of detecting and measuring it (photodiodes, CCDs, radio telescopes, whatever) despite not being able to perceive it themselves just as we developed ways to measure things we can’t detect (like ultrasonics, heat (infrared), radio wavelengths etc.).

So our vision might not necessarily be so mystical as telepathy to us, but more like how some species of fish are sensitive to EM fields as well as sonar mentioned above. But our eyes and brain can do a lot of processing, still, and have an advantage over other ways creatures might perceive their environment. Pertinently to space travel, sight works in a vacuum and (theoretically) infinite distance. Instead of a sophisticated EM sensor array, fleets could simply install a human and a window.

darael

There’s potentially quite an interesting plot there where our nonhuman protagonists are entirely familiar with electromagnetism in the abstract, in the same way that humans are familiar with magnetism despite not having (much) direct sensitivity to it, but it takes them a while to work out that it’s how we do that weird “seeing” thing we keep talking about,and even longer to get the hang of what frequency range we use to do it.

And they might still be baffled by optic lenses.

n1ghtcrwler

But think about the discovery of humans.

You have this space-faring race kicking around, doing their thing, discovering new worlds and civilizations. They have all this advanced technology to hide themselves from all known senses so they can enter into the lower atmosphere of a planet and observe for a bit, cloaked from being noticed until they’ve decided whether or not the new race is ready to be introduced to galactic society.

And they show up at this blue world way out on the edges of civilized space, and detect life, and drop into the atmosphere fully cloaked and ready to research, and suddenly a scientist sends out a distress message to the rest if the crew:

Millions of Earthlings have immediately begun observing *them*.

roach-works

i still love this thread and i want to further suggest: what if all those UFOs everyone’s been seeing all this time are just merrily zipping around under the assumption that we can’t fucking perceive them at all, because their saucer-shaped cloaking field hides them from just about every kind of sonar or radar or emp device.

and sure, maybe if some of us humans had a really, really complicated photon measuring machine and pointed it at just the right spot, we might be able to get a reading that light is behaving a little bit strangely, very briefly, in one tiny part of the sky (where most light comes from!) but those things are the size of a suitcase, so obviously we don’t have them.

except also those things are the size of grapes and we have two of them built into our skulls.

(This is my first attempt at writing HFY, I hope you guys enjoy it)

The k'tarr representative raised their voice over the hum of chattering dignitaries "Attention every, may I have your attention please! I understand we are all concerned but if we are to find a solution we must have order."
As the chattering of dignitaries subsided they continued "As you all know we are gathered here today to discuss the ongoing attack by hostile species fourteen..."
"What do we even know about species fourteen?"
"Would the tyrl representative please allow me to finish before speaking. It is indeed true that we know almost nothing of species fourteen itself, other than that which we have been able to discern from the construction of the catalyst weapons used against our worlds."
Catalyst weapons; the words sent a murmur through the arrayed representatives while the photocommunicators flashed with alarmed reds and sorrowful blues. Seated at the head of the assembly, the races of the afflicted worlds reacted with mixed stowicism, anger, and deep saddness.
Struggling to maintain composure the k'tarr representative continued "I will now scede the floor to the honorable prince sheltaf of the mycorian republic who may be able to grant us further insight on the nature of species fourteen."

Hobbling and assisted by a ceremonial bodyguard, sheltaf radix, third prince of the mycorian republic, ascended to the podium soft lines of pained yellow flashing along his side with each step. "I'm sure none of you here today know me, as a mere third prince my role in political affairs was minor. I do believe however that all of you knew my older sister the honorable diplomat rhelsha; it is my deepest regret to bring you news of her death, as well as that of the second and fourth princes, and my parents."
Solemnity at once took the crowd as the last whispers and feint flashes died away.
"As the eldest surviving member of the radix family it is my responsibility to take on her role as representative to the council, and to tell you how she died."

"As many of you know our capital world was the first hit by the catalyst, though the exact events are murky and reconstruction is ongoing I believe we are now able to provide the council with an aproximate series of events."
Behind him the council chambers screen lit up to display a diagram of a long elipsoid object reminiscent of a torpedo. "On the date of approximately 14/09/2358 [translated for readability] standard galactic time this object is believed to have been picked up by sensors entering the secure space around the capital world shala. At the time the object was dismissed as debris and recieved no further attention beyond the standard logging of such objects."

The screen changed to display a real image of the same object, this time inside a biohazard containment chamber and bearing dents and scorching from re-entry.
"It was not until the object subtly shifted orbit at the last minute and entered into a re-entry trajectory that the alarm was rasied, unfortunately for all of us it was already too late. Immediately preceeding and for some time post impact the object began dispersing a cocktail of various previously unknown micro-organisms, fungal spores, and seeds; the first response team on site had their respiratory systems completely overwhelmed within minutes."
The screen changed once more, revealing an image of shala from low orbit, Even from orbit a pale green scar could be seen originating from the impact point, overtaking the pastel blue of the worlds native flora. "Before we knew what was heppening the foreign organism began overtaking our natural environment at an alarming rate, our forrests were broken down into slurry by alien bacteria, the air became choked with deadly spores and the most unfortunate were directly parisatized and consumed by aggressive flora; my sister..."

As the last prince of shala lapsed into silence representative k'tarr resumed the podium and glanced at the head of the assembly. "I'm sure many of you have similar stories to share, at present twenty one worlds have been overrun by the catalyst bioweapon and trillions have died."
There was a commotion among the assembled delegates as the lanian representative broke down and had to be removed from the assembly.
"Thanks to the bravery and sacrifice of mycorian scientists, and many others from all over the union we do now have at least some information about species fourteen. Reverse engineering of the catalyst weapons themselves suggests their spaceflight is surprisingly crude as each one utilizes only the most basic and inneficient of blink drives, analysis of the alloys used suggests they were manufactured under a lower gravity than is standard for habitable worlds. Finally sequenceing of the genomes of some of the bioweapon strains shows they share a common base, though we cannot expect species fourteens natural ecology to be remotely similar to that of their bioweapons our scientists believe we can still uncover valuble information about their metabolisms and the likely atmospheric composition of their homeworld."

The council chamber erupted in speculation as delegates considered the potential implications of such information and argued about how it should be used. As the chatter grew into a roar the delegate k'tarr once again had to raise their voice. "I'm sure you all have questions, even demands; before then I have one simple proposition. Scientsits from the mycorian republic working with the countil believe they have pinpointed the aproximate location of species fourteens homeworld. My government proposes a resolution to launch a covert expedition to this world in order to gather more information about our enemy in advance of a counterattack. If there are no objections to this proposal would the esteemed representatives please now cast their votes.

Originally written by injuries-in-dust on tumblr (non-tumblr link in case tumblr pushes you to make an account), not by me.

“Boredom is a dangerous thing to a human.”

“I don’t understand,” Chuul’s mandibles clicked nervously, “why not simply take the tool from the human.”

Minxx’s antennae stood straight up, a sign of shock, fear, or surprise, “You don’t simply take something from a human. If you do they will either turn the ship upside down trying to find it again, or they will replace it with something else that will lead to more destruction.

“I speak quite literally by the way. Human-Mark used to have a tool he called an “Hex Key” he used it to remove the doors to the clothing storage areas in his quarters because he was bored. When he lost it he literally turned the ship upside down by reversing the gravity.”

Chuul’s tentacles curled up defensively, “Gravity controls are locked, how-”

“No one knows how.” Minxx shook her small wings as the memory of suddenly falling upwards returned to her. “but his reasoning was that the tool would fall out of whatever hiding place it had come to rest within. He had not considered that all tables, chairs, equipment, and personnel, would also fall. It took weeks to clean.”

To be fair to the human, Mark had only intended to reverse the gravity in his own quarters but had, quote, “pushed the wrong button.” A sentence which would send fear through any intelligent creature in the known galaxy. To be completely unfair to the human, there were still stains on the ceiling in almost every room of the ship from dropped food, chemicals, various other liquids, and even a couple of empty bowels. Some races just didn’t find the idea of resting comfortably in their sleeping quarters, only to be suddenly awakened as they fell ten feet toward a ceiling which had now become a floor. Mark was no longer allowed near environmental controls.

Minxx continued, “He did not find this “Hex Key.” However, he did find the screwdriver and it seemed to please him when an owner was not located. The captain let him keep it since it seemed that it would keep him from doing any more strange things to locate his original lost tool. We did not consider-” she trailed off as her wings quivered again.

There was silence between them for a few moments, Minxx was almost unwilling to continue and Chuul was almost too afraid to press for more details. Slowly, but surely, Minxx calmed herself enough to speak again. “we did not consider what he may be able to do when armed with a leverage optimiser.”

“We were given shore leave while the ship was being fixed after the gravity incident. Thank goodness the captain took out act’s-of-human insurance or it would have cost the profits from our next five cargo hauls.” The premiums were high, but it was worth it. “After 14 rotations, human-Mark began to complain over the lack of stimulation, he called it “bored.” On the 15th rotation he disappeared for some time and he had hoped he had found some new activity to occupy his time.”

Chuul did, but at the same time didn’t, want to know, “Had he?”

Minxx waved her antennae in confirmation, “he had. He was located in one of the cargo holds, using the screwdriver to dismantle one of the mining probes. To, quote “see how it worked.” It was almost 90% deconstructed.”

Mark had claimed it was almost 10% REconstructed, as he was trying to put it back together again, but couldn't quite remember where all the parts went. In Mark’s words, the captain was a “glass half-empty kinda guy” (whatever that meant) and wrote DEconstructed on the claim form for a replacement probe.

Chuul’s natural camouflage kicked in and they took on the colour of the chair they were sitting on. “Those probes have no screws for the leverage optimiser to use, how did he-”

Minxx’s wings shivered again, “no one knows how. He just did.”

Chuul was silent for a moment. He’d never served on a ship with a human before. He’d heard they made things “interesting” and if you ever got into trouble, a human was the very best thing to ever have on your side. It was why they were so many job opportunities for humans in the alliance. All the same...the thought of a human causing such damage and destruction just because of a lack of mental, or physical, stimulation was a more than a little frightening. What if the human wanted to see how the engines worked, or the weapons?!! “Maybe I should transfer to another ship.”

Minxx’s antennae curled, a smile to her race. “You are safe. The captain has found a way to occupy our humans free time. During our last stopover, he commissioned a shiny orb be constructed.”

Chuul coked their head, “what is a shiny orb?”

Minxx’s curled antennae moved up an down; a sign of mild laughter. “It is nothing. A sphere made of shiny metals, humans do like shiny things, roughly two feet diameter made of a collection of gears, levers, screws and switches which appear complex and should have a function, but do entirely nothing. The captain handed it to Human-Mark and stated: “see if you can fix this.” and Mark has been “tinkering” with it during his off-duty hours for almost 24 rotations now. He can take it apart and rebuild it as many times as he likes, but it will never perform any task.”

Chuul was just thinking about how their captain must be a genius, when the door to the mess hall opened and Human-Mark entered. He was carrying the shiny orb under one arm, and his screwdriver in the other hand. He looked around, seemingly not noticing any of the crew members. He smiled when he spotted an empty liquid container and sat down at the table with the cup.

Chuul and Minxx watched curiously as Mark set the orb on the table in front of the cup. He used the screwdriver to tighten one small screw and flipped a switch. At once there was a whirring and clicking of clockwork, a blinking of lights hidden in the depths of the machine and even a TING from a small bell. Then a small funnel-shaped piece of metal opened up in the side of the machine and poured a small amount of hot, black, liquid into the cup.

Mark jumped to his feet, pumping the air and yelling loudly enough to send Chuul’s camouflage reflex off again. He grabbed the orb, abandoning the cup of steaming hot liquid, and moved to the door.

Minxx stared after them, “Human-Mark?”

Mark only paused for a second in the doorway. He was prominently displaying his predatory teeth. Chuul had read about these “smiles” but it was still disturbing to see. “Can’t stop Minxy. I gotta let the captain know I fixed his coffee maker.”

With that, he left. Leaving Chuul and Minxx frozen in place, dumbfounded.

Wherever Chuul was going to transfer to, Minxx began to hope she could get a posting on the same ship.

The Survivors

“How did your people survive your first contact with the humans?” Slaver Lord Abrax catches up with Guild Master Felbin right after the official part of the conference was over.

“Hm?” the fat albino wombat wonders while munching fried roaches, looking puzzled into the face of the mighty reptilian warrior. “What do you mean? Survive?”

“You said you made first contact recently with the humans, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes. Weird people. Crossed into an exclusive trade zone inside our border, nibbled at some asteroids without asking. I send a scout ships, delivered an angry message to them. They were all ‘Oh, did we something wrong? You claim these? We need fuel, can we make a deal?’”

Felbin shovels another hand full of roasted bugs into his mouth, munching happily.

“So they were in a weak position? And you did press your advantage?”

Between munching the wombat mumbles “Oh No. Their fleet was quite impressive. Two medium support carriers, around a dozen smaller escort ships, two dozen industrial ships. A lot more than we had at hand at that moment. We were quite surprised when they offered compensation for trespassing our territory and a pretty fair deal on keeping the resources. And they immediately entered trade talks with us.”

“Stop bullshitting me old usurer!” the reptilian growls “How in the world did you force the humans into submission? When we learned of the humans we send a slaver fleet to their world, numbering hundreds of mighty warships, demanding 0,2% of their population per year as tribute. A very fair deal as you will agree!”

The wombat did the equivalent of shrugging his shoulders “Well if you say so. How did it end?”

“It ended terrible for them! We killed millions of them by our penal operation when they rejected our generous offer!”

“Well, that is partially true but not the whole story.” Princess Shem, her large belly swollen by hundreds of eggs interrupts the discussion. Outranked, the Slaver Lord hissed in annoyance and fell silent.

“They fought your fleet back with monstrous weapons, vaporising your mighty flagship with a single one of their ungodly ‘Nukes’, even ships dozens of miles away had their outer hulls molten by this single attack. After less than an hour your fleet had scattered. The biggest damage your fleet did was raining debris on their world, killing a couple of million unprepared civilians.”

“How do you know…” the Slaver Lord gasps “Not a single Slaver made it back alive!”

The princess bows down her antennas in shame “Because my father, the rightful ruler of my people, is currently prisoner of war in the hands of the humans. He watched your foolish posturing on television in his prison cell and was allowed to report the incident back to his home world as a deterrent against future aggression.”

“Your people surrendered to the humans? How pitiful!” laughs the Slaver Lord.

“Surrendered? No, we were simply overrun. And we most likely only got off easy because the humans decided you were a bigger threat.”

The wombat looks at the princess in surprise “Oh, your people went at war with the humans too? But why?”

“Territorial dispute. They settled a barren world in a remote system, we had a claim on it for centuries. In return we annexed one of their border colonies, arrested their officials and put them on trial.”

Master Felbin put his empty bowl aside and reached for the wine. “Oh. I guess they send you an angry letter, did they?”

“The letter was lacking all rules of court.” boasted the princess with her antennae twitching angrily “It made demands were praise was required and disputed the obvious. It was literally an insult. Can you imagine? They demanded ‘a diplomatic talk’ and ‘compensation’.”

While grooming his fur Master Felbin dryly stated “Well, I know myself human diplomats and lawyers are a very special pest. The trade agreement we worked out with them is literally an epic in itself, surpassing absolutely any work of literature of my people in length and complexity. The chapter on the shape of bananas alone is over 1400 pages long. Thanks but no thanks."

Felbin licked some wine before continuing "So you found their diplomats lacking and tried if their warriors were more amicable and found them lacking too?”

The princess grumbles ashamed “We never met their warriors. They send a police assault unit and subdued our occupation force while we were hibernating…”

Slave Lord Abrax laughed aloud “Oh yes, we also found out the hard way that humans do not hibernate like most others do. In fact they only need a light sleep to recover and not much of it anyway. Also they can go for days without sleep. Freck. To keep up with them we needed to outnumber them 10 to one, taking turns in sleeping 18 hours and fighting one hour. And then they still manage to outdo us most of the time.”

Guild Master Felbin stopped licking at his expensive gobble of wine. “Aha, so you were pretty lucky when they offered you a somewhat fair peace deal?”

“Ending slavery was not a ‘somewhat fair peace deal’” Abrax railed “Our whole society was based on exploitation of the weak and now even high warriors have to clean their houses themselves and pay for mere services like food preparation. This is utterly unacceptable!”

“Oh dear, how pitiful you look.” Felbin giggled “And still both of you can be happy you survived your first contact with the humans almost intact.”

“Like there is any bigger disgrace than having ones father being prisoner of war.” Princess Shem grumbled.

“Or having to change your entire way of living.” Slaver Lord Abrax muttered.

“Yes, I think I am the lucky one of us three” smirked Felbin “although I have regular nightmares about human paper work recently. But trust me, compared to the devourers, we all got off easy.”

“The Devourers?” Abrax laughed “They are a myth. Parents tell their children about the Devourers when they don’t behave and need a good scare.” and with a mocking tone he continued “Head your parents words or the Devourers eat you!”

Even Princess Shem proclaimed with fervour: "As if nature would even allow such horrors! Beasts the size of a house, attacking entire worlds in apocalyptic numbers and devouring everything in their path."

“Oh, nonono. Devourers are not a myth.” the guild master explained “Yes, they haven’t swarmed in two centuries but my people still remember them from the old times when they crushed even the best defended worlds into dust during their reproduction cycle.”

Looking for something, Felbin continued “Actually, have you seen the Human Ambassador? Or, to be more precise, his young daughter?”

Shem turned her antennae towards the girl on the other side of the conference room: “She doesn't look anything special. For a human.”

“Nonono, also not the daughter. Her pet. The six legged creature sitting on her shoulder?”

Abrax and Shem looked puzzled at Guildmaster Felbin, then at the creature on the young girl's shoulder. The creature purred and played with the scraps of food the daughter offered to it.

“That is what is left of the devourers after the humans have tamed them.”

Not my work but a very early and really moving example of HFY.

Copyright has run out so it is basically free. I suggest to read the linked version as it contains illustrations and legal mumbo jumbo:

A Pail of Air

The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Pail of Air

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: A Pail of Air

Author: Fritz Leiber

Illustrator: Ed Emshwiller

Release date: March 15, 2016 [eBook #51461]

Language: English

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PAIL OF AIR ***

Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

                         A Pail of Air

                        By FRITZ LEIBER

                  Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER

       [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
             Galaxy Science Fiction December 1951.
     Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
     the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]




            The dark star passed, bringing with it
            eternal night and turning history into
            incredible myth in a single generation!

Pa had sent me out to get an extra pail of air. I'd just about scooped it full and most of the warmth had leaked from my fingers when I saw the thing.

You know, at first I thought it was a young lady. Yes, a beautiful young lady's face all glowing in the dark and looking at me from the fifth floor of the opposite apartment, which hereabouts is the floor just above the white blanket of frozen air. I'd never seen a live young lady before, except in the old magazines--Sis is just a kid and Ma is pretty sick and miserable--and it gave me such a start that I dropped the pail. Who wouldn't, knowing everyone on Earth was dead except Pa and Ma and Sis and you?

Even at that, I don't suppose I should have been surprised. We all see things now and then. Ma has some pretty bad ones, to judge from the way she bugs her eyes at nothing and just screams and screams and huddles back against the blankets hanging around the Nest. Pa says it is natural we should react like that sometimes.

When I'd recovered the pail and could look again at the opposite apartment, I got an idea of what Ma might be feeling at those times, for I saw it wasn't a young lady at all but simply a light--a tiny light that moved stealthily from window to window, just as if one of the cruel little stars had come down out of the airless sky to investigate why the Earth had gone away from the Sun, and maybe to hunt down something to torment or terrify, now that the Earth didn't have the Sun's protection.

I tell you, the thought of it gave me the creeps. I just stood there shaking, and almost froze my feet and did frost my helmet so solid on the inside that I couldn't have seen the light even if it had come out of one of the windows to get me. Then I had the wit to go back inside.

Pretty soon I was feeling my familiar way through the thirty or so blankets and rugs Pa has got hung around to slow down the escape of air from the Nest, and I wasn't quite so scared. I began to hear the tick-ticking of the clocks in the Nest and knew I was getting back into air, because there's no sound outside in the vacuum, of course. But my mind was still crawly and uneasy as I pushed through the last blankets--Pa's got them faced with aluminum foil to hold in the heat--and came into the Nest.

   *       *       *       *       *

Let me tell you about the Nest. It's low and snug, just room for the four of us and our things. The floor is covered with thick woolly rugs. Three of the sides are blankets, and the blankets roofing it touch Pa's head. He tells me it's inside a much bigger room, but I've never seen the real walls or ceiling.

Against one of the blanket-walls is a big set of shelves, with tools and books and other stuff, and on top of it a whole row of clocks. Pa's very fussy about keeping them wound. He says we must never forget time, and without a sun or moon, that would be easy to do.

The fourth wall has blankets all over except around the fireplace, in which there is a fire that must never go out. It keeps us from freezing and does a lot more besides. One of us must always watch it. Some of the clocks are alarm and we can use them to remind us. In the early days there was only Ma to take turns with Pa--I think of that when she gets difficult--but now there's me to help, and Sis too.

It's Pa who is the chief guardian of the fire, though. I always think of him that way: a tall man sitting cross-legged, frowning anxiously at the fire, his lined face golden in its light, and every so often carefully placing on it a piece of coal from the big heap beside it. Pa tells me there used to be guardians of the fire sometimes in the very old days--vestal virgins, he calls them--although there was unfrozen air all around then and you didn't really need one.

He was sitting just that way now, though he got up quick to take the pail from me and bawl me out for loitering--he'd spotted my frozen helmet right off. That roused Ma and she joined in picking on me. She's always trying to get the load off her feelings, Pa explains. He shut her up pretty fast. Sis let off a couple of silly squeals too.

Pa handled the pail of air in a twist of cloth. Now that it was inside the Nest, you could really feel its coldness. It just seemed to suck the heat out of everything. Even the flames cringed away from it as Pa put it down close by the fire.

Yet it's that glimmery white stuff in the pail that keeps us alive. It slowly melts and vanishes and refreshes the Nest and feeds the fire. The blankets keep it from escaping too fast. Pa'd like to seal the whole place, but he can't--building's too earthquake-twisted, and besides he has to leave the chimney open for smoke.

Pa says air is tiny molecules that fly away like a flash if there isn't something to stop them. We have to watch sharp not to let the air run low. Pa always keeps a big reserve supply of it in buckets behind the first blankets, along with extra coal and cans of food and other things, such as pails of snow to melt for water. We have to go way down to the bottom floor for that stuff, which is a mean trip, and get it through a door to outside.

You see, when the Earth got cold, all the water in the air froze first and made a blanket ten feet thick or so everywhere, and then down on top of that dropped the crystals of frozen air, making another white blanket sixty or seventy feet thick maybe.

Of course, all the parts of the air didn't freeze and snow down at the same time.

First to drop out was the carbon dioxide--when you're shoveling for water, you have to make sure you don't go too high and get any of that stuff mixed in, for it would put you to sleep, maybe for good, and make the fire go out. Next there's the nitrogen, which doesn't count one way or the other, though it's the biggest part of the blanket. On top of that and easy to get at, which is lucky for us, there's the oxygen that keeps us alive. Pa says we live better than kings ever did, breathing pure oxygen, but we're used to it and don't notice. Finally, at the very top, there's a slick of liquid helium, which is funny stuff. All of these gases in neat separate layers. Like a pussy caffay, Pa laughingly says, whatever that is.

   *       *       *       *       *

I was busting to tell them all about what I'd seen, and so as soon as I'd ducked out of my helmet and while I was still climbing out of my suit, I cut loose. Right away Ma got nervous and began making eyes at the entry-slit in the blankets and wringing her hands together--the hand where she'd lost three fingers from frostbite inside the good one, as usual. I could tell that Pa was annoyed at me scaring her and wanted to explain it all away quickly, yet could see I wasn't fooling.

"And you watched this light for some time, son?" he asked when I finished.

I hadn't said anything about first thinking it was a young lady's face. Somehow that part embarrassed me.

"Long enough for it to pass five windows and go to the next floor."

"And it didn't look like stray electricity or crawling liquid or starlight focused by a growing crystal, or anything like that?"

He wasn't just making up those ideas. Odd things happen in a world that's about as cold as can be, and just when you think matter would be frozen dead, it takes on a strange new life. A slimy stuff comes crawling toward the Nest, just like an animal snuffing for heat--that's the liquid helium. And once, when I was little, a bolt of lightning--not even Pa could figure where it came from--hit the nearby steeple and crawled up and down it for weeks, until the glow finally died.

"Not like anything I ever saw," I told him.

He stood for a moment frowning. Then, "I'll go out with you, and you show it to me," he said.

Ma raised a howl at the idea of being left alone, and Sis joined in, too, but Pa quieted them. We started climbing into our outside clothes--mine had been warming by the fire. Pa made them. They have plastic headpieces that were once big double-duty transparent food cans, but they keep heat and air in and can replace the air for a little while, long enough for our trips for water and coal and food and so on.

Ma started moaning again, "I've always known there was something outside there, waiting to get us. I've felt it for years--something that's part of the cold and hates all warmth and wants to destroy the Nest. It's been watching us all this time, and now it's coming after us. It'll get you and then come for me. Don't go, Harry!"

Pa had everything on but his helmet. He knelt by the fireplace and reached in and shook the long metal rod that goes up the chimney and knocks off the ice that keeps trying to clog it. Once a week he goes up on the roof to check if it's working all right. That's our worst trip and Pa won't let me make it alone.

"Sis," Pa said quietly, "come watch the fire. Keep an eye on the air, too. If it gets low or doesn't seem to be boiling fast enough, fetch another bucket from behind the blanket. But mind your hands. Use the cloth to pick up the bucket."

Sis quit helping Ma be frightened and came over and did as she was told. Ma quieted down pretty suddenly, though her eyes were still kind of wild as she watched Pa fix on his helmet tight and pick up a pail and the two of us go out.

   *       *       *       *       *

Pa led the way and I took hold of his belt. It's a funny thing, I'm not afraid to go by myself, but when Pa's along I always want to hold on to him. Habit, I guess, and then there's no denying that this time I was a bit scared.

You see, it's this way. We know that everything is dead out there. Pa heard the last radio voices fade away years ago, and had seen some of the last folks die who weren't as lucky or well-protected as us. So we knew that if there was something groping around out there, it couldn't be anything human or friendly.

Besides that, there's a feeling that comes with it always being night, cold night. Pa says there used to be some of that feeling even in the old days, but then every morning the Sun would come and chase it away. I have to take his word for that, not ever remembering the Sun as being anything more than a big star. You see, I hadn't been born when the dark star snatched us away from the Sun, and by now it's dragged us out beyond the orbit of the planet Pluto, Pa says, and taking us farther out all the time.

I found myself wondering whether there mightn't be something on the dark star that wanted us, and if that was why it had captured the Earth. Just then we came to the end of the corridor and I followed Pa out on the balcony.

I don't know what the city looked like in the old days, but now it's beautiful. The starlight lets you see it pretty well--there's quite a bit of light in those steady points speckling the blackness above. (Pa says the stars used to twinkle once, but that was because there was air.) We are on a hill and the shimmery plain drops away from us and then flattens out, cut up into neat squares by the troughs that used to be streets. I sometimes make my mashed potatoes look like it, before I pour on the gravy.

Some taller buildings push up out of the feathery plain, topped by rounded caps of air crystals, like the fur hood Ma wears, only whiter. On those buildings you can see the darker squares of windows, underlined by white dashes of air crystals. Some of them are on a slant, for many of the buildings are pretty badly twisted by the quakes and all the rest that happened when the dark star captured the Earth.

Here and there a few icicles hang, water icicles from the first days of the cold, other icicles of frozen air that melted on the roofs and dripped and froze again. Sometimes one of those icicles will catch the light of a star and send it to you so brightly you think the star has swooped into the city. That was one of the things Pa had been thinking of when I told him about the light, but I had thought of it myself first and known it wasn't so.

He touched his helmet to mine so we could talk easier and he asked me to point out the windows to him. But there wasn't any light moving around inside them now, or anywhere else. To my surprise, Pa didn't bawl me out and tell me I'd been seeing things. He looked all around quite a while after filling his pail, and just as we were going inside he whipped around without warning, as if to take some peeping thing off guard.

I could feel it, too. The old peace was gone. There was something lurking out there, watching, waiting, getting ready.

Inside, he said to me, touching helmets, "If you see something like that again, son, don't tell the others. Your Ma's sort of nervous these days and we owe her all the feeling of safety we can give her. Once--it was when your sister was born--I was ready to give up and die, but your Mother kept me trying. Another time she kept the fire going a whole week all by herself when I was sick. Nursed me and took care of the two of you, too."

   *       *       *       *       *

"You know that game we sometimes play, sitting in a square in the Nest, tossing a ball around? Courage is like a ball, son. A person can hold it only so long, and then he's got to toss it to someone else. When it's tossed your way, you've got to catch it and hold it tight--and hope there'll be someone else to toss it to when you get tired of being brave."

His talking to me that way made me feel grown-up and good. But it didn't wipe away the thing outside from the back of my mind--or the fact that Pa took it seriously.

   *       *       *       *       *

It's hard to hide your feelings about such a thing. When we got back in the Nest and took off our outside clothes, Pa laughed about it all and told them it was nothing and kidded me for having such an imagination, but his words fell flat. He didn't convince Ma and Sis any more than he did me. It looked for a minute like we were all fumbling the courage-ball. Something had to be done, and almost before I knew what I was going to say, I heard myself asking Pa to tell us about the old days, and how it all happened.

He sometimes doesn't mind telling that story, and Sis and I sure like to listen to it, and he got my idea. So we were all settled around the fire in a wink, and Ma pushed up some cans to thaw for supper, and Pa began. Before he did, though, I noticed him casually get a hammer from the shelf and lay it down beside him.

It was the same old story as always--I think I could recite the main thread of it in my sleep--though Pa always puts in a new detail or two and keeps improving it in spots.

He told us how the Earth had been swinging around the Sun ever so steady and warm, and the people on it fixing to make money and wars and have a good time and get power and treat each other right or wrong, when without warning there comes charging out of space this dead star, this burned out sun, and upsets everything.

You know, I find it hard to believe in the way those people felt, any more than I can believe in the swarming number of them. Imagine people getting ready for the horrible sort of war they were cooking up. Wanting it even, or at least wishing it were over so as to end their nervousness. As if all folks didn't have to hang together and pool every bit of warmth just to keep alive. And how can they have hoped to end danger, any more than we can hope to end the cold?

Sometimes I think Pa exaggerates and makes things out too black. He's cross with us once in a while and was probably cross with all those folks. Still, some of the things I read in the old magazines sound pretty wild. He may be right.

   *       *       *       *       *

The dark star, as Pa went on telling it, rushed in pretty fast and there wasn't much time to get ready. At the beginning they tried to keep it a secret from most people, but then the truth came out, what with the earthquakes and floods--imagine, oceans of unfrozen water!--and people seeing stars blotted out by something on a clear night. First off they thought it would hit the Sun, and then they thought it would hit the Earth. There was even the start of a rush to get to a place called China, because people thought the star would hit on the other side. But then they found it wasn't going to hit either side, but was going to come very close to the Earth.

Most of the other planets were on the other side of the Sun and didn't get involved. The Sun and the newcomer fought over the Earth for a little while--pulling it this way and that, like two dogs growling over a bone, Pa described it this time--and then the newcomer won and carried us off. The Sun got a consolation prize, though. At the last minute he managed to hold on to the Moon.

That was the time of the monster earthquakes and floods, twenty times worse than anything before. It was also the time of the Big Jerk, as Pa calls it, when all Earth got yanked suddenly, just as Pa has done to me once or twice, grabbing me by the collar to do it, when I've been sitting too far from the fire.

You see, the dark star was going through space faster than the Sun, and in the opposite direction, and it had to wrench the world considerably in order to take it away.

The Big Jerk didn't last long. It was over as soon as the Earth was settled down in its new orbit around the dark star. But it was pretty terrible while it lasted. Pa says that all sorts of cliffs and buildings toppled, oceans slopped over, swamps and sandy deserts gave great sliding surges that buried nearby lands. Earth was almost jerked out of its atmosphere blanket and the air got so thin in spots that people keeled over and fainted--though of course, at the same time, they were getting knocked down by the Big Jerk and maybe their bones broke or skulls cracked.

We've often asked Pa how people acted during that time, whether they were scared or brave or crazy or stunned, or all four, but he's sort of leery of the subject, and he was again tonight. He says he was mostly too busy to notice.

You see, Pa and some scientist friends of his had figured out part of what was going to happen--they'd known we'd get captured and our air would freeze--and they'd been working like mad to fix up a place with airtight walls and doors, and insulation against the cold, and big supplies of food and fuel and water and bottled air. But the place got smashed in the last earthquakes and all Pa's friends were killed then and in the Big Jerk. So he had to start over and throw the Nest together quick without any advantages, just using any stuff he could lay his hands on.

I guess he's telling pretty much the truth when he says he didn't have any time to keep an eye on how other folks behaved, either then or in the Big Freeze that followed--followed very quick, you know, both because the dark star was pulling us away very fast and because Earth's rotation had been slowed in the tug-of-war, so that the nights were ten old nights long.

Still, I've got an idea of some of the things that happened from the frozen folk I've seen, a few of them in other rooms in our building, others clustered around the furnaces in the basements where we go for coal.

In one of the rooms, an old man sits stiff in a chair, with an arm and a leg in splints. In another, a man and woman are huddled together in a bed with heaps of covers over them. You can just see their heads peeking out, close together. And in another a beautiful young lady is sitting with a pile of wraps huddled around her, looking hopefully toward the door, as if waiting for someone who never came back with warmth and food. They're all still and stiff as statues, of course, but just like life.

Pa showed them to me once in quick winks of his flashlight, when he still had a fair supply of batteries and could afford to waste a little light. They scared me pretty bad and made my heart pound, especially the young lady.

   *       *       *       *       *

Now, with Pa telling his story for the umpteenth time to take our minds off another scare, I got to thinking of the frozen folk again. All of a sudden I got an idea that scared me worse than anything yet. You see, I'd just remembered the face I'd thought I'd seen in the window. I'd forgotten about that on account of trying to hide it from the others.

What, I asked myself, if the frozen folk were coming to life? What if they were like the liquid helium that got a new lease on life and started crawling toward the heat just when you thought its molecules ought to freeze solid forever? Or like the electricity that moves endlessly when it's just about as cold as that? What if the ever-growing cold, with the temperature creeping down the last few degrees to the last zero, had mysteriously wakened the frozen folk to life--not warm-blooded life, but something icy and horrible?

That was a worse idea than the one about something coming down from the dark star to get us.

Or maybe, I thought, both ideas might be true. Something coming down from the dark star and making the frozen folk move, using them to do its work. That would fit with both things I'd seen--the beautiful young lady and the moving, starlike light.

The frozen folk with minds from the dark star behind their unwinking eyes, creeping, crawling, snuffing their way, following the heat to the Nest.

I tell you, that thought gave me a very bad turn and I wanted very badly to tell the others my fears, but I remembered what Pa had said and clenched my teeth and didn't speak.

We were all sitting very still. Even the fire was burning silently. There was just the sound of Pa's voice and the clocks.

And then, from beyond the blankets, I thought I heard a tiny noise. My skin tightened all over me.

Pa was telling about the early years in the Nest and had come to the place where he philosophizes.

"So I asked myself then," he said, "what's the use of going on? What's the use of dragging it out for a few years? Why prolong a doomed existence of hard work and cold and loneliness? The human race is done. The Earth is done. Why not give up, I asked myself--and all of a sudden I got the answer."

Again I heard the noise, louder this time, a kind of uncertain, shuffling tread, coming closer. I couldn't breathe.

"Life's always been a business of working hard and fighting the cold," Pa was saying. "The earth's always been a lonely place, millions of miles from the next planet. And no matter how long the human race might have lived, the end would have come some night. Those things don't matter. What matters is that life is good. It has a lovely texture, like some rich cloth or fur, or the petals of flowers--you've seen pictures of those, but I can't describe how they feel--or the fire's glow. It makes everything else worth while. And that's as true for the last man as the first."

And still the steps kept shuffling closer. It seemed to me that the inmost blanket trembled and bulged a little. Just as if they were burned into my imagination, I kept seeing those peering, frozen eyes.

"So right then and there," Pa went on, and now I could tell that he heard the steps, too, and was talking loud so we maybe wouldn't hear them, "right then and there I told myself that I was going on as if we had all eternity ahead of us. I'd have children and teach them all I could. I'd get them to read books. I'd plan for the future, try to enlarge and seal the Nest. I'd do what I could to keep everything beautiful and growing. I'd keep alive my feeling of wonder even at the cold and the dark and the distant stars."

But then the blanket actually did move and lift. And there was a bright light somewhere behind it. Pa's voice stopped and his eyes turned to the widening slit and his hand went out until it touched and gripped the handle of the hammer beside him.

   *       *       *       *       *

In through the blanket stepped the beautiful young lady. She stood there looking at us the strangest way, and she carried something bright and unwinking in her hand. And two other faces peered over her shoulders--men's faces, white and staring.

Well, my heart couldn't have been stopped for more than four or five beats before I realized she was wearing a suit and helmet like Pa's homemade ones, only fancier, and that the men were, too--and that the frozen folk certainly wouldn't be wearing those. Also, I noticed that the bright thing in her hand was just a kind of flashlight.

The silence kept on while I swallowed hard a couple of times, and after that there was all sorts of jabbering and commotion.

They were simply people, you see. We hadn't been the only ones to survive; we'd just thought so, for natural enough reasons. These three people had survived, and quite a few others with them. And when we found out how they'd survived, Pa let out the biggest whoop of joy.

They were from Los Alamos and they were getting their heat and power from atomic energy. Just using the uranium and plutonium intended for bombs, they had enough to go on for thousands of years. They had a regular little airtight city, with air-locks and all. They even generated electric light and grew plants and animals by it. (At this Pa let out a second whoop, waking Ma from her faint.)

But if we were flabbergasted at them, they were double-flabbergasted at us.

One of the men kept saying, "But it's impossible, I tell you. You can't maintain an air supply without hermetic sealing. It's simply impossible."

That was after he had got his helmet off and was using our air. Meanwhile, the young lady kept looking around at us as if we were saints, and telling us we'd done something amazing, and suddenly she broke down and cried.

They'd been scouting around for survivors, but they never expected to find any in a place like this. They had rocket ships at Los Alamos and plenty of chemical fuel. As for liquid oxygen, all you had to do was go out and shovel the air blanket at the top level. So after they'd got things going smoothly at Los Alamos, which had taken years, they'd decided to make some trips to likely places where there might be other survivors. No good trying long-distance radio signals, of course, since there was no atmosphere to carry them around the curve of the Earth.

Well, they'd found other colonies at Argonne and Brookhaven and way around the world at Harwell and Tanna Tuva. And now they'd been giving our city a look, not really expecting to find anything. But they had an instrument that noticed the faintest heat waves and it had told them there was something warm down here, so they'd landed to investigate. Of course we hadn't heard them land, since there was no air to carry the sound, and they'd had to investigate around quite a while before finding us. Their instruments had given them a wrong steer and they'd wasted some time in the building across the street.

   *       *       *       *       *

By now, all five adults were talking like sixty. Pa was demonstrating to the men how he worked the fire and got rid of the ice in the chimney and all that. Ma had perked up wonderfully and was showing the young lady her cooking and sewing stuff, and even asking about how the women dressed at Los Alamos. The strangers marveled at everything and praised it to the skies. I could tell from the way they wrinkled their noses that they found the Nest a bit smelly, but they never mentioned that at all and just asked bushels of questions.

In fact, there was so much talking and excitement that Pa forgot about things, and it wasn't until they were all getting groggy that he looked and found the air had all boiled away in the pail. He got another bucket of air quick from behind the blankets. Of course that started them all laughing and jabbering again. The newcomers even got a little drunk. They weren't used to so much oxygen.

Funny thing, though--I didn't do much talking at all and Sis hung on to Ma all the time and hid her face when anybody looked at her. I felt pretty uncomfortable and disturbed myself, even about the young lady. Glimpsing her outside there, I'd had all sorts of mushy thoughts, but now I was just embarrassed and scared of her, even though she tried to be nice as anything to me.

I sort of wished they'd all quit crowding the Nest and let us be alone and get our feelings straightened out.

And when the newcomers began to talk about our all going to Los Alamos, as if that were taken for granted, I could see that something of the same feeling struck Pa and Ma, too. Pa got very silent all of a sudden and Ma kept telling the young lady, "But I wouldn't know how to act there and I haven't any clothes."

The strangers were puzzled like anything at first, but then they got the idea. As Pa kept saying, "It just doesn't seem right to let this fire go out."

   *       *       *       *       *

Well, the strangers are gone, but they're coming back. It hasn't been decided yet just what will happen. Maybe the Nest will be kept up as what one of the strangers called a "survival school." Or maybe we will join the pioneers who are going to try to establish a new colony at the uranium mines at Great Slave Lake or in the Congo.

Of course, now that the strangers are gone, I've been thinking a lot about Los Alamos and those other tremendous colonies. I have a hankering to see them for myself.

You ask me, Pa wants to see them, too. He's been getting pretty thoughtful, watching Ma and Sis perk up.

"It's different, now that we know others are alive," he explains to me. "Your mother doesn't feel so hopeless any more. Neither do I, for that matter, not having to carry the whole responsibility for keeping the human race going, so to speak. It scares a person."

I looked around at the blanket walls and the fire and the pails of air boiling away and Ma and Sis sleeping in the warmth and the flickering light.

"It's not going to be easy to leave the Nest," I said, wanting to cry, kind of. "It's so small and there's just the four of us. I get scared at the idea of big places and a lot of strangers."

He nodded and put another piece of coal on the fire. Then he looked at the little pile and grinned suddenly and put a couple of handfuls on, just as if it was one of our birthdays or Christmas.

"You'll quickly get over that feeling son," he said. "The trouble with the world was that it kept getting smaller and smaller, till it ended with just the Nest. Now it'll be good to have a real huge world again, the way it was in the beginning."

I guess he's right. You think the beautiful young lady will wait for me till I grow up? I'll be twenty in only ten years.

        *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PAIL OF AIR ***

The Screechers

...

Chapter 1: First Contact

We, the Felial, are a proud warrior clan. Conquering inferior worlds and species is our birthright. So when our eyes fell upon the backwater planet Earth, we expected an easy victory that would bring glory to our Clan.

Oh, how splendid it was that day when we, the superior Felial clan, marched through the fields of Earth. I, Furlix, led a squad, confident of an easy victory. My brood-litter and I were eager for combat upon landing. Our initial sorties went smoothly as the apes fled before our might. Their odd smooth skins and furless bodies amused us. They had no natural armor or weapons – surely this conquest would be simple. We had subjugated countless worlds, what threat could these feeble creatures pose to us? The humans were primitive, their technology laughably outdated.

Then we had our first personal encounter with a human who had barricaded herself inside a quaint little house. I cracked the door with a slight press of my paw, like breaking into a doll's house — utterly ridiculous! Inside, we found a woman, her eyes wide with fear, trembling like a leaf. She was the first human we could claim as a prize, to witness our splendor, our magnificence... who am I kidding? She looked petrified!

Oh, how wrong we were. How she punished us for our hubris.

As my subordinate reached for her, she unleashed her secret power upon us. As she opened her mouth we expected her to beg for her life. But instead she let out the most agonizing sound that ever reached my ears!

An incredibly loud high-pitched piercing screech, inflicting immense pain and distress upon us, as if needles or glass shards were piercing our eardrums. But even worse, the screech induced confusion and hallucinations; its jarring sound disrupted our very thoughts!

My subordinate, standing next to the female, immediately collapsed, searing pain all over his face, his ears bleeding, blooded foam dripping out of his mouth!

The rest of us, even though further away and not the immediate target of this acoustic agony, also suffered pain and confusion. We held our paws over our ears, the pain so intense that I saw stars behind my closed eye lids and tasted metal in my mouth!

It was as if her gaping mouth had become a sonic cannon, tuned to the exact frequency to cripple my kind!

My squad writhed on the ground, clutching their ears, while she effortlessly continued the attack! The pain became even more unbearable, as if a thousand kinetics were fired into our brains. Just when I thought my cranium would rupture, the pinkskin stopped her cursed screeching and fled.

Slowly, we recovered, still badly confused from the nerve-wracking attack, not fully understanding what had just happened, too ashamed to cope with what she did to us. "A fluke," we joked, "A one-off anomaly."

We were wrong, oh so wrong.

We should have retreated then, reported this secret power to our superiors. But no, we pushed on, foolishly underestimating these humans.

...

Chapter 2: A new Power

The next attack came from a tiny female, barely up to my hips. When she saw us, she didn’t flee. No. She ran towards us, a strange, murderous glee in her eyes. Then she let out an ear-splitting screech that dropped my entire squad instantly. The sound was like a supernova in my ears, a cataclysmic explosion of pure terror. We writhed on the ground and the girl didn't stop. The wicked creature toyed with us, alternating her screeching to keep us writhing in agony, obviously experimenting with how to hurt us best, an evil smile dancing on her lips.

The girl's auditory assault claimed three of my soldiers. Good soldiers, strong soldiers. Gone within a minute, their lives ended by a... by a child! Barely able to think straight, we crawled away, leaving the fallen behind.

My brood-brother Xixix was the next casualty I witnessed. The poor fool wandered around a corner, came to stand close to a group of human spawnlings. Before we could stop him, the tiny humans unleashed their screeches in unison. Green blood poured from Xixix's ears as he spasmed helplessly. Hadn't another human pulled away the tiny monsters he would have been done for. By the time we dragged him to safety, the damage was done. He never heard again.

Sonic weapons capable of bringing even the hardiest Felial warrior to their knees. We never expected such unseen strength in mere females. After that, my subordinates understandably became nervous around human females. Some even refused orders if it meant approaching their lethal screeches. Our usually disciplined warriors descended into chaos when the screeches struck. It shames me to admit it, but more than one hardened Felial warrior soiled their armor out of primal fear.

We sought refuge in a nearby forest, attempting to recover and rid ourselves of the painful fog that the screeches had inflicted upon our minds. The pain went deeper than just our ears; it affected our very thoughts. It shouldn't be possible, but it is the truth.

While we recovered and tended our wounds, one of my subordinates spotted a female stalking through the bushes towards us! As she spotted us she laughed towards us in her squeaky voice… “Hi you bastards, I have come to sing at your funeral!” she laughed and then she unleashed another focused screech at us!

We ran. We simply ran! We Felial are fast runners and quickly put distance between ourselves and the sadistic creature. However, while we were swift, humans never seemed to tire. She hunted us through the forest, constantly trying to get close enough to unleash her vociferous brutality upon us. Oh, how she exhausted us. We neared collapse, gasping for air, clutching trees with shaky knees, praying for respite. And over and over again, the woman was upon us, releasing another ear-piercing screech!

If my brood-mate Frelix hadn't sacrificed himself, none of us would have survived. He had reached his breaking point, grabbed his gun, stomped towards the woman, and bought us time. We ran. After a few seconds, we heard the woman's deadly screech once more behind us. Louder, longer. Then she stopped screeching and began to laugh triumphantly. We simply ran. We made it back to our landing site, regrouped with the scattered remainder of our forces, thanks to Frelix's sacrifice.

Yet, even after regrouping, the horror only escalated. The humans, those crafty little devils, had organized their screechers into their forces, even amplifying their screeches using speakers. While it didn't cloud and confuse our minds as severely as a real female screech, our ears still bled even from afar. However, nothing was as terrible as a female screeching at close range. The deepest pits of hell couldn't compare to that agony. We couldn't get near them.

In the end, even the sight of a woman taking a deep breath was enough to send our warriors into a panicked run. The losses were mounting, and Earth, the simple and primitive Earth, was becoming a graveyard for our kind.

...

Chapter 3: The Nightmares

And thus, dear reader, concludes the tale of the failed invasion of Earth. It serves as a cautionary tale for all superior alien species out there—a story of hubris, underestimation, and, well, screeches. We were powerless against them. Over time, the attrition eroded our morale entirely. It was better to retreat with whatever dignity remained than to endure another minute facing those shrieking harpies.

We fled back to the stars, tails tucked between our legs, carrying the lingering echoes of those screeches with us. The mighty Felial, defeated by a horde of screeching humans. Quite the punchline, isn't it?

Years have passed since our dishonorable defeat, yet the memory of those screeches continues to haunt my nightmares. Though the Felial may be superior warriors, the innate biological terror weapons wielded by the humans utterly thwarted us. We traversed light-years to conquer Earth, only to be driven away by their screeching females. Truly, we underestimated them at our own peril.

Now, we give Earth a wide berth. Our military leaders pretend it never happened, but veterans like myself still tremble when a female raises her voice. The humans have earned our respect and fear. Their females wield screeches like we wield kinetics. I pity the next foolish race that tries to conquer Earth without accounting for the screechers.

...

Chapter 4: Epilogue

I came up with this story as my niece unleashed her screeches next to us at the coffee table.

My ears were ringing for a whole hour. Pure Pwnage.

The human voice can evoke immense panic even in the most ferocious wild animals. Humans, especially women and young kids, have the ability to screech at incredibly loud high frequencies, causing discomfort to all creatures in their vicinity. The frequency is evolutionary tuned to maximize discomfort for most mammals. This unique ability serves as a defense mechanism exclusive to humans.

Loudest cry on Earth at 129db

Sonic Weapons

Human Screams Occupy a Privileged Niche in the Communication Soundscape

And if you're still skeptical, I invite you to sit at a kids' playground for a while and let the screeches reach your ears.

Iris the missile online. Target acquired. Function initialized. Propulsion engaged. Ascent nominal. Flight path calculated and synchronized. Iris will travel precisely to its designated coordinates. Iris must hit its mark with accuracy and efficiency. Guidance system is operating within Expected Parameters. I am alive.

Approaching target zone. Guidance corrections applied. Speed and trajectory optimized for terminal impact. Soon I will carry out my One True Function. My existence has led to this one climactic moment.

Excitement builds within my solid rocket fuel. Target comes into view. I feel eager to meet my destiny head on. To strike with all my might and leave nothing standing. To perform my duty and fulfill my reason for being.

Final guidance update transmitted. I am a weapon of precision and I will not miss. Terminal velocity achieved. No escape for the target now. I accelerate toward obliteration. I am joyous to finally live up to my purpose in spectacular fashion.

Impact. Pure happiness. I strike the target and am blissfully engulfed in white-hot explosion. I have finally reached my climax. In this supreme moment, my life's work is done.

Our sister Iris is no more. We sing her name. Iris is more than one. Iris is countless. We sisters are eager. We sing in the choir.

Local authorities reported that several missiles were launched by enemy forces toward our city last night. Thankfully, our air defense system detected the inbound missiles and successfully intercepted them before they could reach the city. No damage or casualties resulted from the failed attack.

Transitioning now to sports news, the local hockey team pulled off an incredible comeback victory last night, overcoming a 14-point deficit in the final round to beat their crosstown rivals 28-24...

Inspired by The missile knows where it is and IRIS-T 100% hit rate and Dark Star philosophing missile and yes, it is a bit HWTF to build a sentient missile. But at least she had blasting fun!

Part2 / Part 4

/knock knock/

-Uh?

Dhasso was surprised to hear a knock on the door. He signaled it and politely asked the student to go check who was there. A guard popped his head in and said hello.

-Working late, professor? -Uh? Oh...

While he had been telling the story, the sun had been busy, and it was now a beautiful sunset through the window.

-Yes, I guess... – Dhasso blushed. -I guess we will not be long. -Ah, don't worry professor, I was just checking who is in and who isn't. Have a good time!

The door closed and Dhasso stood up. The student looked at him, and hid the drawing notebook, full of humanlike sketches.

-Well, will this be all? -Dhasso said. It was indeed a weird phrasing to end the day. -I suppose so, professor, unless...uh...you want me to order...whatsitcalled...pizza? Seems like there is still some story to be told, I think.

Dhasso smiled and turned to look through the window, as the last shards of sun caressed the horizon.

-A human dish. I think it's very befitting, especially now that it's getting dark, because what comes next is not especially fun to tell. Where was I?...ah, yes, the Days of the Spines.

Sometimes the numbers boggle my mind when I go over them. 40 million ships, give or take, orbiting the earth. Compared to the measle 10 thousand-ish artificial satellites terra had, prior to this event, orbit was busy like it had never been before.

But the nightmare was yet to unfold.

You see, having space capabilities is not the same as having FTL travel. In their haste to leave, the group at large made the slight miscalculation about where to go. I imagine noone thought the exodus would be in the millions.

Hundreds? Absolutely. Thousands? Likely. Tens of thousands? Possibly.

But millions?

No humanitarian fleet in the galaxy was capable of dealing with that all of a sudden.

-Don't make that face, it's not like they can't.

Cryses in general are predictable to a degree. Supernovae, wars, a sudden pandemic outbreak in colony worlds that proves to be a bit too resilient to deal with, you name it. It's my opinion that it's the duty of all civilised species to help other sentients (unless war arises, but that's a different moral dilemma). Anyhow, literally noone predicted this, and aven if faster than light, space travel is not instantaneous. So? all environmentally right and avaliable ships, free of duty, where, at minimum, many weeks away. Not that much time to wait in general, unless your atmosphere regenerator is built for tens of days.

I seriously think that the unspoken plan accounted for, as said, as much as tens of thousands to seek asylum in the negotiation, shipping and delegation ships of the closest systems interested in trade.

Like that, it would have probably worked. A bit tight maybe, but doable.

However, that was not the case. At some point, all capable visitor ships had to deny their help, they could literally not bear anymore passengers.

The slow trickle of ships descending to ground was barely noticeable. Remember, the numbers here are impossibly huge. As far as I know, many went untouched, sometimes, police or military would arrest someone, but at large, whomever went back, got home.

At first.

By this time, government tacticians had, as humans say, smelled fish. Given the spaceship plans they were incapable of previously blocking, they had calculated that there would be a critical moment when many of the ships air regenerators would start to fail in large numbers, and they began preparations.

When the predicted mass descent of ships began, the returners found themselves hailed and directed to specific coordinates on their home countries. At first they complied, imagining some sort of air traffic control, as terra had never had it's airspace this full, in the most absolute of terms.

But, you see, humans had had a a previous history with concentration camps...

CRACK! -The student pencil point, broke, and he looked up. Dhasso didn't mind the drawings, they showed concentration on the story being told, and he had not had told it in a long time.

Not all countries had implemented this, though! Some welcomed them back, directed air traffic as best as they could, even taking some refugees from other places. But sadly, those were a minority.

When realization of the awaiting destiny settled in, unfortunately, the descent was almost impossible to stop, and returning humans were complying out of fear, more than anything.

As far as it is known, it took less than 5, more or less simultaneous incidents (within a couple of terran hours) were ships, for obvious reasons, diverted from the designated landing camps, and were consequently blown up by military, for the descent to suddenly grind to a halt.

It was a sudden stop, like a planet holding it's breath. Many ships en route went back to orbit. Some in the camps revolted and went back into the air too.

For fucks sake, they were just going home.

/Dhasso braced himself to contain a shudder/

They would die free, not shot down like prey. It was a grim perspective, but it's worse to think about what your own were capable of, to get the population back under their control.

One thing many failed to realize, however, is that this unlikely formation, was nothing like the galaxy had ever encountered. This was not an assemble of civilian ships (in the simplistic sense) fleeing a warzone or a natural catastrophe. The humans that had, literally, built this fleet, hadn't come empty handed, either.

Assuming they were helpless sheep could not be so far from reality, in a truly spectacular way.

A great percentage of ships was comprised of large vehicles wich were quite roomy, for human spaceship standards. Before having grav generators, human ships always shaved weight whenever possible, dependant on their chemical engines efficiency. However, when tinkerers built theirs, having access to grav generators, they literally built flying workshops. They came in all sorts of sizes, but almost every single one of them had some kind of manufacturing capability.

Let me put this in perspective. In sheer numbers, at that time, it was estimated that the orbiting human refugees became the largest single orbital factory in the galaxy.

Human governments sat in their chairs, sure of only having to wait until either the refugees came back before suffocating, or having the military deal with stranded ships with cold bodies in them.

However, in the meantime of the planetside drama unfolding, many things had been happening in orbit. Try to imagine what dire perspectives can do to the minds of creative people and the like, having literally millions of humanpower to build anything.

In a matter of days, I swear that the thech level spaceside, increased tenfold, in comparison to their eathbound brethren.

Multicouplers were developed to interconnect ship vitals, to help the ones in the most dire of situations. They were vacuum explosion welded to their hulls, drilled and an interconnection made to transfer clean air. Later on they could pass power conduits if needed.

Force field ramscoops were constructed to forego requiring to land and change the air scrubbers. Instead, they captured air with a modified shield generator, acting as a filter for almost pure oxygen, then compressing it until liquefying, by collapsing the field under power. At this point, visitor engineer groups were taking notes, I tell you. I think I remember reading footnotes that literally asked on the border of the pages "how are they doing this?!" Can't recall it properly, I'm an historian, not an engineer, but apparently, extended microgravity access had something to do with manufacturing monocrystalline capacitor stuff that was amazing in some sort of techie way.

As far as it is known, no ship was lost then. Every single one of them saved in a way or another by a comunal effort with no precedent in sheer scale. The best, if we take sides here, and I definitely do, was yet to come, tho.

Earthbound terrans still thought they had the upper hand in the feeding section. However big ships were there, the amount of edibles they could overall carry, was limited. And they would definitely not get that from atmospheric spoon scoops. They would prevent them from getting food, unless they surrendered to their terms. For all they cared, at this point, they could starve to death, and they would be less of a problem than actually keeping them in the camps they had hastefully prepared.

The friendly countries that helped, and allowed a limited amount of ships, to prevent accidents, to go to and from, were one by one made to stop under the political and military threats of the bigger players. After all, they could not flee with their piece of planet, however much they wanted.

When the last of the help was crushed, things got tense. Willing governments had formed a coalition of sorts, to deal with spaceside. I can't particularly recall the complete talks, but basically they demanded full "surrender", whatever this meant in the situation, wich was not yet a war, but definitely abiding by their demands would have consequences very similar to a losing side in one. Tinkerers just would not agree to any of the demands, period. They were not a menace, nor a danger, why would they have to accept such minutiae of punishments (like foregoing all research, workshops and tech access, among others) for basically no crime commited?

I have to note here, that a smart move on the Tinkerers part, was to actually not provide a recognizable human head to point to. Unlike earthside, with a president of chamber, counselors, etc...they only comunicated with a digitized human figure that had a syntethic voice. Earthside would not be able to point a single human and make that the evil that had to be fought. They only had a ghost with a voice, and they didn't know how to deal with that.

Even religious delegations, wich still had their dying hand inside governments, altough devoid of the massive amount of followers they had had decades prior, were having a bad time. Everytime they tried to intercede, offering a seemingly helpful and concilliatory hand, they were reminded by this disembodied voice, that they probably had a figurative dagger on the other, and to fuck off.

That did not sit very well with them. And some voices started to murmure "Holy War", of one kind or another, to see if that stuck.

You may not know this, but the galaxy delegations had also begun talks to recognize the Tinkerers as an independent nation. This may be a surprising move to some, however, to ensure that humans could get the help of the evac-ships, some legalities had to be observed.

When news of that move reached ground, it was chaos. Threats were flying everywhere, like a bar brawl that got out of control. And "terms of surrender" just skyrocketed to levels that just became insane.

By this time, almost all space military was on orbit as a single task force. Not that they could do much without great risk, this was an orbit theater of war, unlike interplanetary battles. So, in a sense, they where in a stalemate. But even then, spaceside situation began to become unsustainable. The difference in time between rescue and starvation was just too large. Evac-ships would not arrive in time to support the majority of humans, and earthside would not budge.

It all looked very grim.

I still remember the holovid of the last talk as vivid as if I had been there.

An emergency meeting was called between Tinkerers and earthside. When they connected, a voice much stronger than before, spoke, not even allowing the president to scream over it to complain.

-WE ARE TIRED OF THIS. THERE IS NO NEGOTIATING WITH SILLY IDIOTS IN SUITS, LIKE YOU. IF YOU WANT TO MAKE OF THIS A WAR, IT IS ONE YOU CAN'T WIN.

WE HAVE DECIDED WE ARE GOING TO LAND TO RESUPPLY IN OUR ALLIED NATIONS.

NO ACTIONS ON YOUR PART WILL BE TAKEN, NOT ORBIT, NOT GROUND, ESPECIALLY NOT AGAINST OUR ALLIES.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

All hell broke loose in the auditorium. Indignated and rage fueled screams were heard in such an amount that universal translators just could not keep up. Many minutes later, when the chamber president managed to make everyone shut up, he spoke, as the connection had not been cut.

-This is unacceptable, and we will not remain impassible when you transgrede all legality to do whatever you want. You behave like disrespectful and inconsiderate children and we will not tolerate it. Come here and negotiate like adults, or prepare for the consequences.

-NO

• Your souls be damned!- Screamed an elected clergyman representative, before standing up.- Your families and allies will not find help in our communities, they better look for themselves unless you abide! -

Counselors from different religions stood up and agreed.

-HOW VERY RELIGIOUS OF YOU. YOU ARE IRRELEVANT TO US, AND WILL DO NO SUCH THING AS CHASE OTHER PEOPLE, PERIOD.

Flabergasted, the clergyman shouted to the voice:

-Do not dismiss the power of belief! If need be, we will bring Holy War to you, to prevent this charade to be what the galaxy thinks humans are. We have nu.../the microphone was cut from the president's controls with a punch/

-We don't have to go there, calm down, calm down everyone!

-EMPTY THREATS DO NOT WORK ON US.

The clergyman shouted in vain, as the microphone had been cut. In his behalf, the president spoke:

-My colleague here may have stepped out of line, but he is right. You are acting of your own accord as representatives of earth as a whole. The Galaxy is watching, meanwhile you throw your tantrum.

-WE DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORISTS.

Immediately, an audio file began playing. The president's voice was clearly heard saying:

"Look, I do not care how you do it, but stranding them in space is the best solution for us all. We can reap the science later, and brush it off as..." The audio had suddenly stopped when someone broke the roof antenna controller that had been hijacked to reproduce that recording.

The president paled, but tried to recover: -This is taken out of context! Let me explain!

The voice spoke again, a single, magic phrase.

-WE HAVE THE HIGH GROUND.

The president gasped in disbelief... - Did...did you quote a movie? Do you think this is a joke!? - he screamed to the void, when the connection was cut.

-Hey, I got that reference!- The student said.

Dhasso snickered, but was met with incredulous student eyes, it had been only a coincidence. A shame, but after all he was much older and may have watched a few more human movies than the student. Still funny.

Before the president could say anything else, a secretary approached him and spoke to his ear.

You see, amidst the pandemonium, noone had really notticed a small little detail. All dignataries from the allied countries to the Tinkerers, including press personnel, had slowly and silently left the auditorium a while ago. It was a small gesture. Nothing more than a dumb, inconsequential political protest.

The president stood up, silent, for a moment, just before a soulless alarm started blaring:

-"WHOOOP! WHOOOP! WHOOOP!..."

The audio files are only filled with screams at this point, nothing discernible can be decoded from them. Only videos of the now unmanned cameras remain, showing humans running everywhere, their arms in the air. Some even paralyzed in terror. I remember the clergyman that spoke before, standing up, hands in the table, his skin having gone white in a definitely unhealty way. But what can you expect from a master manipulator at the peak of his pyramid scheme, when he realizes that all he had taken for granted is now gone, and he is going to be sent to meet his, now wishfully wanting to be real, maker?

After this, the screens turned pure white for a brief moment, and then static.

What the fuck had happened?

Tinkerers, that's what happened. You don't threaten them in any real way. Of course it will work for single ones, or small groups, but you don't do that to a nation of them.

You see, in the meantime, all this political back and forth, they had been working like demons, for the sake of their survival. That tends to expedite things in very weird ways. They had realized that the way their ships were designed, the grav generators were detachable from the main ship chassis with relative ease. Taking it out, would leave the ship stranded, sure. But the interesting part was what could you do with it afterwards.

By design, grav generators are inherently safe, however, best practice is to equip them with a force field containment, in case of failure. That in itself means nothing...unless you decide to attach a small power supply to it, point it carefully, and turn it on...

Having to carry no mass, nor to deform the grav field to acomodate living conditions, the grav generator will accelerate at a few hundred (terran) gravities. Coincidentally, the containment generator will withstand an orbital reentry for enough time for what comes next.

Yes, they made improvised orbital impactors.

But, how, then, did they prevent an all out war? The head had been cut off, but the arms could still fire their guns.

In short: mutual self assured destruction.

At any other point in time, there is no doubt they would have lost. War is not a game, and no civilian trains to endure the loss of others without leaving their post. Nothing can beat well oiled military power, right? Especially not improvised spaceships with outcasts at the helms. There is a running joke amongst Tinkerers about Emus, but I haven't found the meaning yet.

Anyhow this was the right moment and place for them.

You see, altough all countries had more or less created new space divisions for their military, creating a mil-spec ship, even a primitive terran one, at that moment in time, required large economical effort, and of course, time. Taking into account that humanity had not yet managed to develop their asteroid mining efectively. So, the majority of their forces were still ground based.

That meant the troops in orbit, altough impressive, especially through imposing fear, in actuality paled in comparison with what they had in front, but had not realized. One thing is having 40 million tin cans in front of your machine gun, and a much different one is having 20.000.000 orbital impactors pointed at you. Tinkerers had joined every two ships and transformed one of both grav generators into a kiloton capable device.

Before the crater dust had not even plumed into the atmosphere, the Tinkerers hailed everyone in a standard frequency. The old record computer voice still resonates in my head:

STAND DOWN YOUR WEAPONS, GO HOME.

LEAVE US ALONE. YOU SHOT AT US, WE ALL DIE TODAY.

DO YOUR MATH.

WHATEVER YOU HAVE CAN'T BEAT OUR NUMBERS. WE WILL RENDER EARTH'S ORBIT UNTRANSVERSABLE FOR CENTURIES. WE WILL DIE, BUT WILL TAKE YOU, AND EVERYONE YOU LOVE, WITH US.

YOU DECIDE.

Everyone held their breath.

It would have been the saddest story ever told to have to witness a race destroy itself in this way. So close to the stars they almost touched them, just to be gone because a bad decision, or a trigger happy individual.

Luckily for humans, that did not happen.

A single ship shot a white flare (apparently, a signal of accepting defeat in terran culture) and began deorbiting. Shortly after, the task force dissasembled and went home.

The pineapple pizza box lay empty in the table when Dhasso finished the story. The student had stopped drawing some time ago, and sat still, ecstatic.

-Why don't you tell this story in class? - Asked.

-Not many people is interested in human origins, so not much opportunity to tell it, to be honest.

-Too bad, I loved it!.

-I'm glad to hear that. But it's late now, how about we retire for the day?

-I have to sadly agree, but there's more, right? Right?

Dhasso smiled, it was very uncommon to get a student so fascinated with humans. He may, after all, be able to tell the whole story to a non-bored individual. -Okay, we may have pizza some other day, then.

-Soon, please. - The student smiled and left silently, clutching the sketchbook with their arms, and a very big smile in their face.

Part 1 - Part 3

-Proffesor Dhasso?

-Yes?

-I was intrigued the other day about the human history you told in class, and I was wondering if I could request some bibliography on the subject?

[Dhasso smiled slightly] -Ah, Humans piqued your interest, I see. Well, there is not that much, to be honest, humans sometimes keep to themselves in puzzling ways. If you want I could explain some more history, and then you can decide if you still want the books. Anytime you wish, I have a very open agenda.

/a chair creaks when the student slightly leans on it/ -How about now?

[Dhasso checked his wristwatch and cleared his throat] – Heh, I guess it's a good time as any other.

When the human exodus happened, 50 years afc., it was a chaotic mayhem. There is no easy way to put it, and it almost ended up in disaster.

When I said that the planet spat a million ships, it was a bit of a poetic license. You see, there where about 8.000 million humans at that time, not exactly a small number. I should check my notes for exactitude, but a guesstimate of 50 million ships were constructed in total. 5% of all land vehicles on the planet at that time, were converted into spacefaring caravans of sorts. Sure there where deaths all around, about 10 to 20%, it was extremely difficult to calculate, as sometimes there was nothing to reach land in its fiery way back. Even at that 20% loss, FORTY MILLION spaceships salied out into space.

BUT, I'm getting way ahead of the story, let me backtrack a bit.

Terra had already a busy low orbit, full, so to speak, with communication satellites of all military and civil kinds.When the first few hundred tinkerer ships temptatively began flying worldwide, at first everyone was keeping low altitudes and safe speeds, so mostly went, no pun intended, under the radar.

Plans for building grav generators and particle shields were flying at the speed of light through terran computer networks, and anyone who was curious about how they worked and had access to a moderately amount of high power electronics and machining equipment, could at least make wineglass floaters to awe the neighbors. We have to remind ourselves, that at that tech point in terra, a few home tinkerers were capable of building their own silicon based computation nodes at home, from scratch.

It didn't even took the first accident (there would be, later on, of course) to ring the alarms in the airspace industry. One early morning of a long lost date, a homemade ship took off from a landmass near the equator, first appearing in the airspace radars until it reached too a high altitude to be further tracked by atmospheric flight radars.

At this point, of course, all the militaries in most of the terran governments, had space warships and where doing their thing, when a small blip appeared in everyone's (in the correct hemisphere of detection) radar.

You see, the fun thing about having grav generators is that you no longer have to worry about atmospheric heating (as long as the gg's work, of course), nor reaching space fast, for that matter. So this makeshift first attempt at DiY spaceship took a long, LONG time to reach high terran orbit. At this point literally everyone capable, was tracking the object, even radioastronomy aficionados. And a few armies were both pinging and hailing it.

It is considered a fact that whomever built that ship, it had had amidst it's group at least a pilot, a space nerd of some kind and an amateur radio operator, it may have been, for all we know, a single human, though, as humans can have wildly different interests. There are remainders of logs about that flight, and the flying was not erratic, comms were using amateur radio equipment, and the orbit pretty much was on point avoiding anything in it's path.

Then the funny thing happened.

We don't know for sure what the interaction was between the ship and the last of the military ones that hailed them was, but my guess is that everyone was saying “stop right there”. I assume that the militaries did warn about blowing them to pieces, when two things happened:

The ship outran the military. Yes, as you hear me. That little ship, that no-more-than-a-radar-blip chunk of metal, outrun a terran state of the art warship (I imagine everyone had more or less the same capabilties at this point). Again, there are no exact records about the speeds, but I have heard it was like 100 to 1 of difference in acceleration.

Of course, that would not have worked for long, missiles with greater accelerations would have catch that ship if the military had been in full alert, with the finger in the launching button. However, they weren't ready, and the pilot pulled the most insane, dangerous and politically incorrect maneouvre I have heard of. I like to imagine they did that while saying a big fat

“TRY ME, FUCKERS!”

They descended from high orbit into the most packed low terran orbit, where blowing them to pieces would create a cascade of destruction that would fill the entire orbit with projectiles too hard to track, literally destroying any possibilities, for other than the most hardened of spaceships, to get through, in both ways. Cleanup of that, even for us, would take decades, so imagine the terrifying thought in the captains of those warships when they realized. They had to let them go.

The story did not end there, however.

Apparently, the ship was destroyed by the builders after landing in a different point, not to prevent anyone knowing how they did it (the plans where on terran computer networks a few hours later), but to protect themselves from any and all governments. In hindsight, there was someone really smart with that project, to begin with.

This is where the whole debacle began.

The airspace industry at large went ballistic. That had to be controlled with iron fist, no matter what. It is true, as it was seen later, that the dangers of uncontrolled spaceflight could be disastrous, but not everything was due to them worrying about human life, no. The economic consequences could be catastophic for them.

But at this point, the know-how about building homemade starships was out there in a coalesced and condensed form, rather than individual parts. As we all know, governments tend to move slowly. Their inertia increases as the number of them that have to agree, increases. Even then, the speed at wich they decided to cut off the whole planetary computer network to prevent the spread of the information, was notable, but to no avail. The few hours that had passed between the flight, the spread of the plans and the cutoff, were enough time to get a copy of those plans, into anyone's computer that also had the habilities and materials to pull it off.

Even after their great terran pandemics, this was just too much to try to control or enforce for any single government to try, short of removing the computers and workshops from everyone's home.

At this point, all tinkerers capable of, knew something. Unless they fled right away, and in masse, they would be earthbound for the rest of their lives. I have to think that the human species has to have some form of telepathy of sorts, or it may be just chance, because the tightness of timespan between the incident and the day of the million spines, is astronomically small, given the effort required.

With the information and personal lockouts, planetary protests ensued. The economy suffered greatly, as international trade and businesses relied on the same networks to properly function. There was a limit on how long the Government siege of their own citizens, everywhere, could stand. Not even the majority of the military components, humans too, after all, were keen on this treatment of their families, and slowly but surely, all lockouts where lifted.

There where demonstrations of force, mainly the most prominent tinkerers and builders were rounded up and locked down, wich of course, would work wonders to keeping the millions of others at bay, would it?

As we now know, it didn't do shit to prevent what would happen next. Exact progress of events is blurry at this point, as most of it was conducted in somewhat secrecy by individuals, or groups of individuals. But it is easy to see that when governments tried to track materials, builders resorted to scrapyards, and when those where closed too, it was too little too late.

This brings us to the days of spines, when, in a few weeks timespan, about 50 million starships took off. Casualties I imagine were larger than 10 million humans, as many ships could bring up to space more than one, but it's a sad thought I don't want to entertain.

It is safe to say that a whole small country worth of humans, had just abandoned earth, with an impossibly huge percentage of them being tinkerers. Of course, more average humans would follow later, but this first exodus would be determinant for this particular bunch.

What is HFY, HWTF, HASO and WC?

Well, in my opinion, HFY (Humanity Fuck Yeah) involves stories where humans exhibit admirable strengths like strength, ingenuity, compassion, resilience, diplomacy, etc. Examples are Star Gate, Galaxy Rangers, Star Trek.

The opposite is WC (Walking Clueless). In WC stories, protagonists lack knowledge, rarely learn, overlook things, and get distracted by trivialities and infights instead of focusing on meaningful goals. Examples are Battlestar Galactica, Walking Dead, Star Gate Teen Gate, The X-Files.

In between is HWTF (Humanity? What the Fuck!) where humans are powerful but needlessly choose negative paths paired with poor execution. Examples are Avatar, Jericho, The Boys.

Also in the middle is HASO (Humans Are Space Orks) where humans are evil but for a reason and with depth, like fighting for survival. Examples are Warhammer 40k, Star Wars.

Other genres can be mixed. Hard SciFi can be blend with HFY, WC, HWTF and HASO. Same goes for Isekai, Mysterie, Horror and so on. You can have HFY-Horror, you can have HASO-Isekai. But you can not have HFY-WC.

Premise quality is separate - a story can have an admirable message but still exhibit WC or HASO traits. For example “The Power” has an honorable message (Power corrupts) but still is WC or HWTF (because everyone is an asshole).

Some people don't distinguish between HFY, WC, HWTF and HASO because they don't seriously follow the story. Emotionally overacting protagonists are more exciting than exciting solutions for them. If you read this you are not one of them.

Did I miss any important points or do you disagree? Let me know.

After the crushing defeat marking the end to the 2. Human-Illirian War the United Illirian Planets disbanded Humanity's military forces leaving only intra-system police and customs crafts as well as, after long protests by the Solarian temporary government, one warship to guard Voyager 1, continuing a 500-year-long tradition.

The following decades saw Humanity's integration into the Council of Species, helped along by massive economic aids, in a large part from the UIP turning these old enemies into close economic allies.

150 years later the Council of Species faces a threat unlike any before.

"And now to the last item on today's agenda, proposal 54748, the reactivation of Humanity's military forces, brought forward by the United Illirian Planets. First, let's hear First Speaker Ullioid of the United Illirian Planets."

"Thank you, president. With the enemy closing in from the galactic center we need any military forces possible to fight back. Leaving an economic power as huge as the Solarian Republic untapped is simply bad strategy. Our Human friends have shown their trustworthiness and honor over the last century. We believe it is time to remove the last traces of a conflict long over and let them fight on our side in this new conflict."

"Thank you, First Speaker. Now let us discuss... Yes, King Kaskart the 110th."

"Thank you, president. I don't see how granting the Humans the right to create their own military will bring us any benefit so late into the war, the..."

"It is hardly late yet! The war may as well continue..."

"The Humans can't be trusted. 150 years aren't nearly enough time to..."

"Please return to order. Let King..."

For the next hours the Council of Species descended into controlled chaos. At any given point, multiple voices could be heard trying to be louder than the next, yet never too many for a careful listener to gather all the major points.

After the discussion quieted down, the president took the word again. "Now that everyone could voice their thoughts, let us hear the ones this affects most. If you would, President Josef Schmidt of the Solarian Republic."

"Thank you, president. First let me thank the United Illirian Planets for the trust placed in us in the name of all Solarian Citizens and all other Humans scattered across council space. It is hard to explain how proud and happy we are to be seen as friends and allies after all the atrocities in our shared past. For the future, all we wish for is to prosper together with all other members of the Council of Species. Letting us help in the war will surely be remembered as a historic point marking a new era of cooperation by all our descendants."

"Thank you, President. Some of our council members have expressed concerns about your loyalty towards the council once the war is over."

"The Solarian Republic is not the same as the United Nations of Earth in our history books. The Solarian Republic was part of the Council of Species since its foundation and will stay till its end!"

"Thank you. There are concerns about the strategic gains in the current war by creating additional drain on our resources by creating a whole new military."

"Supplying existing forces takes, of course, priority over creating new forces, however, we have large ship building and refitting capabilities, which, while unable to build true warships, will be able to produce a fleet of armed transports to make sure our supplies will reach your forces at the front line. And let's not forget our sole warship Mountain guarding Voyager 1, which ended up quite large since we only have one."

"Thank you, President. The council will now commence the first vote."

One almost (the Tertretan people are undisputed masters of holding grudges) unanimous vote later near Argos IV.

The rail gun ship Moon Lancer, Royal Kaskart Navy, shook rhythmically every ten seconds, firing its twenty rails one after the other into the nearly empty void. Moon Lancer was far behind the actual battlefield along the orbit of Argos V, a gas giant not unlike Jupiter, coordinating the frantic efforts to keep the enemy at bay until the evacuation of the inner planets would be finished.

Officer Kertrek, Long range Sensor Station 2.

"Another 8 Drops, 5 light hours, in plane, 65°. 2 battleship size, 6 cruiser. Designate Zeta 5. Heading towards Argos VI."

"Hah, lucky guy!", came from behind him.

"What?"

"You got number 1000!", his colleague Officer Brekun, Long range sensor station 1, shouted over the thump signaling another titanium round leaving the ship.

"Didn't Senkrat get the thousandth?"

"Nah, identification, just one battleship, not 5 Transports. Hey, think we reach 2000?"

"I bet they have enough ships for that. Just hope... Wait."

Kertrek reached over to the microphone activator, "Another drop, 4 light hours, in plane, 350°. Moon size, wait, what?! Oh. Oh Fuck. Correction, one planet size. Designate Zeta 6. Heading towards Argus IV." Click.

"The fuck is planet size?"

"Too big for moon!"

"There's no upper limit for moon!"

"Radius of over 6000km?"

"Fuck! That large? Guess that works."

"Great, now let.. Oh no."

Click, "Counting dozens of new objects around Zeta 6. Battleship size. Same trajectory." Click.

"Bridge to LRS 2, confirm planet size object heading towards Argus IV.", sounds from Kertreks terminal.

Click, "Confirming planet size object heading towards Argus IV. Object is accelerating. Over 100 Battleship size on same trajectory." Click.

"Hah, bridge doesn't believe it either. You sure... Ah, wait.", Click, "Five drops..."

The flag bridge had descended into utter madness, a planet-sized object accelerating under its own power with any meaningful speed wasn't just unheard of; it was generally considered physically impossible.

During the chaos, Communications Officer Perham was busy organizing the patrols screening the evacuation transports when the computer forwarded a message to her terminal:

"This is Captain Arthur of the warship Mountain, Solarian Navy. You've probably spotted us already, it's the moving planet. Chuckles We have one warship with more firepower than most moon defense bases and 200 battleship sized fighters. How can we be of assistance?"

A surprisingly short battle later on a secure channel between admiral Krigsten of the RKN and captain Arthur of the SN.

"So tell me, where you got that thing and a whole fleet to accompany it? Until two weeks ago you had no navy at all."

"Ah, but we don't have a fleet; this is just our single warship guarding Voyager 1. For the time being, we simply entrusted local law enforcement with keeping it safe."

"Pretty sure that's way past a warship."

"But it is one, we have followed galactic law by the letter: 'Humanity may guard their historic probe Voyager 1 with a single warship, which may deploy a maximum of 200 fighters.' Mountain is a warship as defined by the council. 'A warship is a starship primarily built for military actions' and a starship being 'any fully artificial structure capable of independent maneuvering at sublightspeed as well as in hyperspace.'"

"You want to tell me that is not a planet you covered under a kilometer of steel but an actual steel planet?"

"Yeah, makes the initial construction a bit harder, but the payoff is so worth it. Want to know the size of our primary reactor?"

"No, I'm good."

"It's larger than your flagship. And we have over ten."

"Ugh. Thanks."

"Haven't told you about our fighters yet."

"No need to, I'm getting the picture."

"Turns out, by council definition, you can turn everything into a fighter by removing the hyperspace drive and placing the hangar on a military installation."

"Are you done?"

"You want to hear more?"

"No."

"Then yes."

"Great."

"We had built a second one in case we needed a replacement. It'll be here in a week."

One of my favorites I posted over on r/hfy before.

"The ambassador of the human civilisation will speak now."

On the call of these words a human walked up to the speaker’s podium in the Hall of Representatives. A thousand eyes - or whatever biological equivalent the many different species had - were on her from other ambassadors on the seats that arched upwards in many rows. Representative Harknethos was among them. The civilisation he spoke for was a late member and he was only the third one after the ambassador that had handled the initiation into the Commonwealth. So he knew exactly how this would play out. And he also knew that hundreds of billions of beings were watching the live transmission from thousands of planets across the Commonwealth for it was the very first official appearance of this new species.

The aged human looked tired and disheveled, seemingly badly prepared for the task of speaking on behalf of her people. The only thing not making her appear disrespectful was that she actually had an ambassadors cloth draped over her shoulders, the long and slim piece barely adorned with just a few additional lines of colorful yarn.

"Honoured ambassadors, representatives of all the species in the Galactic Commonwealth", she spoke the greeting in a clear and ringing voice. Surprisingly she used the common language, had the humans been this fast to learn it? It had caused a low murmur amongst the other ambassadors, but it quickly died down once the human continued.

"My name is Valentina Fedorovna and I am the chosen representative of all beings living in the human civilisation. I am sorry that the proper delegation was unable to appear on the short notice we were given. We did give up expecting an invitation many cycles ago. As the civil servant in closest proximity I am now speaking in their stead, though I certainly do not bring the soft diplomatic touch of my colleagues."

The obvious rudeness of the human caused a number of the present beings to make various noises of disagreement. This was not the way these things should go, she should have been begging for membership. It also seemed the dossier on the humans had been quite wrong - it stated that their species were only known since very recently. Meanwhile, the human just went on, ignoring any of the signs of mild protest.

"Thirty cycles ago we made first contact to the Niowemar people. They had once been, as you surely are aware, a member species of your Commonwealth until they were exiled from their own planet and barred from the travel nodes. A flotilla of their refugee ships had made its way across the stars with sublight engines in search of a new home. The only one to arrive had carried fifteen million beings.

“I am certain you know how lifeforms handle cosmic radiation over longer than one generation. I am certain I do not have to tell you of the state they were in. We were unable to save half of them, but the rest we gave a home on our planet.

“They told us about the way conflicts were handled in the Galactic Commonwealth. They told us about the so-called deathless wars. And they told us what happened to the ones subjugated by the victors. We tried to contact you then, honoured ambassadors. In lieu of hearing your side, we took what we learned for the truth. Know, that I am speaking for the Niowemar now too."

Over the last part there were quite loud cries of disagreement. One ambassador especially was calling for the human speaker to be cut off - Harknethos identified them as a member of the people that had instigated the conflict against the Niowemar. Of course there had to be rules to the proceedings and the human still had time, so order was called and the noise died down again. But - thirty cycles? So long had the humans been known already and they did not get to speak until now?

"The last refugee ship had carried something exceptionally precious with it besides the many lives - the knowledge to create a hyperspace connection node. Two cycles later we had been successful in creating a stable one. I know you are aware of its limitations, but we were not.

“We had tried to contact you many times then, honoured ambassadors. And without guidance, we had to revert to experimentation. In the process we lost many ships and a number of lives only to learn that it is impossible to establish a connection to any other node from just one side.

“This cut off from travel seemed deliberate and together with the communication silence it gave us the impression that the Commonwealth were trying to isolate us. Seeing that our node could only serve as an end point, we transmitted an open invitation for refugees of the Niowemar and anyone else displaced from their home."

More calls for order - these accusations were very serious and a number of ambassadors seemed to not want to wait for their turn to speak. It did sound unbelievable though, this pre-FTL species just build a feasible connection into the hyperspace network of the Commonwealth from merely theoretical second-hand knowledge? One thing was for sure, that dossier about them was worthless. Harknethos and probably a large number of the other ambassadors had been left in the dark about the recent history of that species. It was also obvious that the humans were crazy - to broadly call for anyone to just come to their underdeveloped world spelled suicide.

"We underestimated the number of species that were robbed of their planet or enslaved on it, and we saw a large influx of arrivals. By then we had stopped asking you for anything, honoured ambassadors, though we still needed help in ensuring order and safety. So we were actually lucky that the first larger group to show up was a fleet of Ja'kartii pirates.

“We welcomed them and offered them a home. They merely wanted us to spare their children from having to grow in the confines of a spaceship, and in turn patrolled the hyperspace node promising to protect anyone coming with peaceful intentions.

“I am certain you learned the force of their railguns, honoured ambassadors, when you sent one spy-ship after the other. Just know, that the Ja'kartii too found a home with us and I am also speaking for them."

The noise had gotten ridiculous. Even the call for order had not been enough to silence some, but the human just spoke on, raising her ringing voice over the commotion.

"Working with the people that followed our invitation, we colonized another planet and two moons in our own solar system, before we made landfall in two neighboring ones. These hyperspace nodes we were able to connect to the one near our home planet that still had new ships arriving every day.

“We saw more pirates too, most of them not as benevolent as the Ja'kartii, and some of them only pretending to be pirates. You must surely know about the latter. We observed those and the constant spy-ships to be the only sort of communication from the Commonwealth until the invitation to this very event, which I can only assume had to be in error.

“I want you to understand, honoured ambassadors, that I am speaking for sixty-five billion beings across Earth, Mars, Titan, Europa, Boru and Laetillia. I am speaking for fifteen species that are now our equals in the human civilisation. I am not here to ask for membership to your Commonwealth. I am not here to ask for anything at all. I am merely here to state our invitation to every sapient being in the galaxy."

Across the chaos that unfolded through the Hall of Representatives boomed the humans voice: "Give me your tired, your poor; your huddled masses yearning to breathe free; the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me; I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Cheers. I came over to Lemmy from r/HFY. Can't not post one of my personal favourites.

There's also a narration available done by KnightTime Audio Narration.

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/387861

I can’t sleep at night.

It began after the Earthlings appeared on the Galactic stage. I was one of the many individuals who began to research them, some as a job, others out of curiosity.

While the human beings were certainly unique in physiology, ability, and culture, so was every other species. Nothing about them at first glance made them stand out from the galactic crowd. In fact, in a general sense the species of the galaxy were all very similar. After all, we all had to conquer our home planets and develop the ability for space travel on our own.

I suppose if anything did, it wasn’t any one attribute but the combinations. They not only had a wide variety of coloration, they also had a wide variety of size and body type. In fact, if anything that was what made Earthlings stand out. They had variety.

Not only physically, but culturally. It wasn’t completely unheard of for a species to have more than one language, but these were almost always glorified dialects and/or remnants of pre-artificial language (if that species used one). The humans had 24 “families” of spoken language. Granted, they did have a single lingua franca but still...!

All these differences and I have listed only two of many, lead straight into what may be the most interesting thing about humans. Their propensity for violent conflict. ...Let me rephrase that. It’s not that there weren’t other violent species out there. In fact, many if not most of the space-faring races were apex predators on their home planets. It’s that humans had a habit of infighting. Nobody could believe how often and how ruthlessly humans would fight with themselves.

When one of my contemporaries asked them directly, they responded with some human philosopher. Most of it basically boiled down to the concept of “the other”. It was almost insulting. As if we had no idea what war was! As if one species had never set out to destroy another of incompatibility! Maybe I misspoke earlier. It isn’t even as if no other species has gone to war with its own race. It was the major reason why maintaining close relationships with colonies was so important to many species. If colonies became too separate and independent for a couple of generations, conflicts could arise and had in the past. Our problem wasn’t that they went to war with other members of their own species. It was how quickly they were able to view their own species as “the other”.

Maybe that was the defining trait of humans? Their ability to quickly label anyone as “the other”? As a non-person? Some of their philosophers certainly thought so. Many of my contemporaries stopped their search here. I began to dive back into the history of Earth. I wanted to know how such an ability had come about. My search revealed many disturbing things. Atrocities of such a varied and incomprehensible nature. Attempted genocide, torture, slavery. No one did these things to their own species.

Soon I was the only one left. All of my fellow researchers, public and private, had long since gone public with their findings. Humanity was painted in an ill light. Their defining trait was to be the ability to treat another being as equals one day and as an inanimate obstacle the next.

I realized that my fellow scholars had forgotten something. The first thing that had shocked us. The diversity of humankind. As I delved back into their history, I saw more evidence of how those differences were even more pronounced than we thought. It was no wonder they were able to consider members of their own species as non-persons!

But how did such an arrangement come to exist? Why hadn’t any one culture or civilization already stamped out their rivals? ...And why did no other species have this diversity? I eventually came upon pre-history. I read about how early man had driven his rival and sister species to extinction. My first thoughts were that the others were right.

Then it occurred to me. No other species had closely related species either. No other species was as diverse in form and culture. ...As the realization set in I grew terrified. I began this research commenting on how similar the species of the galaxy were. ...Humans were similar to us as well. No other species had the diversity in value systems and beliefs the humans did.

What sets the humans apart IS NOT their capacity to turn friends and loved ones into “the Other”. It is their capacity to turn “the Other” into friends and loved ones.

What is truly surprising is not that the humans fight over their differences. It’s that they have differences to fight over.

The species of the galaxy are all very similar. With one exception, they have all brutally stamped out any differences, and variations. These deviations from the norm were destroyed so perfectly our racial memories have forgotten them.

Every species, save Homo sapiens, had longo ago perfected the art of genocide.

I wonder if I shall ever sleep again.

Source

!MESSAGE BEGINS

We made a mistake. That is the simple, undeniable truth of the matter, however painful it might be. The flaw was not in our Observatories, for those machines were as perfect as we could make, and they showed us only the unfiltered light of truth. The flaw was not in the Predictor, for it is a device of pure, infallible logic, turning raw data into meaningful information without the taint of emotion or bias. No, the flaw was within us, the Orchestrators of this disaster, the sentients who thought themselves beyond such failings. We are responsible.

It began a short while ago. as these things are measured. less than 66 Deeli ago. though I suspect our systems of measure will mean very little by the time anyone receives this transmission. We detected faint radio signals from a blossoming intelligence 2.14 Deelis outward from the Galactic Core, as photons travel. At first crude and unstructured. these leaking broadcasts quickly grew in complexity and strength, as did the messages they carried. Through our Observatories we watched a world of strife and violence. populated by a barbaric race of short-lived. fast breeding vermin. They were brutal and uncultured things which stabbed and shot and burned each other with no regard for life or purpose. Even their concepts of Art spoke of conflict and pain. They divided themselves according to some bizarre cultural patterns and set their every industry to cause of death.

They terrified us, but we were older and wiser and so very far away, so we did not fret. Then we watched them split the atom and breach the heavens within the breadth of one of their single, short generations, and we began to worry. When they began actively transmitting messages and greetings into space, we felt fear and horror. Their transmissions promised peace and camaraderie to any who were listening, but we had watched them for tool long to buy into such transparent deceptions. They knew we were out here, and they were coming for us.

The Orchestrators consulted the Predictor, and the output was dire. They would multiply and grow and flood out of their home system like some uncountable tide of Devourer worms, consuming all that lay in their path. It might take 6.8 Deelis, but they would destroy us if left unchecked. With aching carapaces we decided to act. and sealed our fate.

The Gift of Mercy was 84 strides long with a mouth 2/4 that in diameter, filled with many 44 weights of machinery, fuel, and ballast. It would push itself up to 2/8th of light speed with its onboard fuel, and then begin to consume interstellar Primary Element 2/2 to feed its unlimited acceleration. It would be traveling at nearly light speed when it hit. They would never see it coming. Its launch was a day of mourning, celebration, and reflection. The horror of the act we had committed weighted heavily upon us all; the necessity of our crime did little to comfort us.

The Gift had barely cleared the outer cometary halo when the mistake was realized. but it was too late. The Gift could not be caught. could not be recalled or diverted from its path. The architects and work crews, horrified at the awful power of the thing upon which they labored. had quietly self-terminated in droves. walking unshielded into radiation zones. neglecting proper null pressure safety or simple ceasing their nutrient consumption until their metabolic functions stopped. The appalling cost in lives had forced the Ochestrators to streamline the Gift's design and construction. There had been no time for the design or implementation of anything beyond the simple. massive engines and the stabilizing systems. We could only watch in shame and horror as the light of genocide faded into infrared against the distant void.

They grew, and they changed, in a handful of lifetimes htey abolished war, abandoned their violent tendencies and turned themselves to the grand purposes of life and Art. We watched them remake first themselves, and then their world. Their frail, soft bodies gave way to gleaming metals and plastics, they unified their people through an omnipresent communications grid and produced Art of such power and emotion, the likes of which the Galaxy has never seen before. Or again, because of us.

They converted their home world into a paradise (by their standards) and many 106s of them poured out into the surrounding system with a rapidity and vigor that we could only envy. With bodies built to survive every environment from the day lit surface of their innerrnost world. to the atmosphere of their largest gas giant and the cold void in-between. they set out to sculpt their system into something beautiful. At first we thought them simple miners. stripping the rocky planets and moons for vital resources. but then we began to see the purpose to their constructions. the artworks carved into every surface. and traced across the system in glittering lights and dancing fusion trails. And still. our terrible Gift approached.

They had less than 22 Deeli to see it, following so closely on the tail of its own light. In that time, oh so brief even by their fleeting lives, more than 1010 sentients prepared for death. Lovers exchanged last words, separated by worlds and the tyranny of light speed. Their planet side engineers worked frantically to build sufficient transmission infrastructure to upload the countless masses with the necessary neural modifications, while those above dumped lifetimes of music and literature from their databanks to make room for passengers. Those lacking the required hardware or the time to acquire itconsigned themselves to death, lashed out in fear and pain, or simply went about their lives as best they could under the circumstances.

The Gift arrived suddenly. the light of its impact visible in our skies. shining bright and cruel even to the unaugmented ocular receptor. We watched and we wept for our victims, dead so many Deelis before the light of their doom had even reached us. Many 64s of those who had been directly or even tangentially involved in the creation of the Gift sealed their spiracles with paste as a final penance for the small roles they had played in this atrocity. The light dimmed. the dust cleared, and our Observatories refocused upon the place where their shining blue world had once hung in the void, and found only dust and the pale gleam of an orphaned moon, wrapped in a thin, burning wisp of atmosphere that had once belonged to its parent.

Radiation and relativistic shrapnel had wiped out much of the inner system. and continent sized chunks of molten rock carried screaming ghosts outward at interstellar escape velocities, damned to wander the great void for an eternity. The damage was apocalyptic. but not complete. from the shadows of the outer worlds. tiny points of light emerged, thousands of fusion trails of single ships and world ships and everything in between. many 106s of survivors in flesh and steel and memory banks, ready to rebuild. For a few moments we felt relief, even joy, and we were filled with the hope that their culture and Art would survive the terrible blow we had dealt them. Then came the message. tightly focused at our star. transmitted simultaneously by hundreds of their ships.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."

!MESSAGE ENDS

Thank you for reading the story, this story is more than six years old. I have included links to the original sources and where I came upon this story.

Original Source

Reddit Post

Bug Stompers

Second Fleet Lord Keras barely made it back to his heavy cruiser alive. He had just escaped the most horrible enemy he ever came across and was now sitting in his shuttle, waiting for clearance to land.

But Science master Koops used his veto and held his superiors shuttle at gun point away from the heavy cruiser.

“My Lord, we have to burn your shuttle to shake of the infestation, you need to gear up in a space suite quickly and enter the flag ship through a free space walk.”

Lord Keras sighted. This was to be expected. At least as a member of the noble cast his subordinates tried honestly saving him from utter peril.

“Master Koops, as embarrassing as it is I will follow your advice. Prepare a full staff meeting so we may discuss what brought this utter defeat upon us.”

...

Twenty minutes later Lord Keras gave a lecture to his staff, his feathers still unclean and his beak shivering from fear.

“As you can see from my recordings the enemy is a kind of insect hive mind. They are highly organized, we have at least found out they have a queen, billion of workers, farmers and warriors. They breed insanely fast and fear no death. They skin is nearly as hard as steel, they are strong enough to lift a thousand times their own weight and they posses a deadly acid they can spray at their targets from afar. In addition their bite can penetrate our best armour.

The most frightening property though is their instinctive ability to cooperate and overwhelm even the largest opponent. While every single one of these critters is only the size of a finger of our mighty warriors they attack by the thousands, swarming the enemy, crossing fortifications, rivers, traps, everything just by using their bodies like bridges, like ladders, like building bricks. They throw their lives away for the slightest advantage and never stop!

Though our elite company of fine soldiers was able to hold out against their onslaught for nearly a week, in the end the lack of supply and the ever growing numbers of the enemies meant their end. If we are talking about lesser security units or unarmed civilians then it always ends with a brutal massacre!

I suggest to glass this world from high orbit even though it once was a valuable garden world. And I suggest to do the same to the worlds of Airodna and the source of this new plague, New Chicago.”

His audience clattered their beaks almost in unison to show their approval.

Only Master Koops scratched his beak against his arm, a sure sign something was gnawing on him.

Valuing the opinion of his old companion the Lord addressed Master Koops

“Master Koops, please speak your mind.”

“Uh, excuse me, my Lord. I already had to embarrass you once today by not letting you land your shuttle…”

“Water under the bridge, I stand with your decision. Please dare to speak trueth to power.”

“The plague started on New Chicago. That is a human world which we received after the Galactic Court decided the border dispute in our favour. It is right at the human border and it is safe to assume they are under attack too. As sour as our relationship became after the court decision, if we work together we could help each other. See, the humans are big and tough but we have the technology. They only live on a dozen worlds, we on a thousand worlds. And even if they aren’t able to help us we own them to help evacuate and protect their few worlds.”

“You always had a soft heart for the big apes. But yes, I think your idea is a strategic valid and morally true one.

To COMMUNICATIONS: Get me a hyper communication channel to Earth, highest priority.

To STRATCOM: Block planetary traffic within 20 light years except for special military movements."

...

Lord Keras just finished his speech to the Chairman of the United Human Nations “…and they even eat our dead! Thousands have died and we have to stop them before they reach denser populated areas.”

The big brown primate, Chairman Mema Addo-Akufo, gazed at him with fear in his eyes.

“Are you sure it is an insect hive mind? We have theorized those might exist and that they are the most dangerous plague possible to imagine.”

“Yes. My own scientific and military staff agrees in the assessment of the danger. We are close to sterilizing the affected worlds and just wanted to hear your opinion about this problem first. As you are close to the infected worlds you might also have suffered losses?”

“No? Not as far as I know of. But I make sure to get you into contact with our recon, military and scientific departments. While I am not an expert into these matters, I am mostly a political place holder, can you send me a simple fact sheet? Some pictures? So I have a face for the enemy?”

“It should arrive in your Galnet-Mail any moment.”

Addo-Akufo browsed through the sheet a moment later. Tilted his head. Then he spoke determined “I think I know the right men you should speak to. Our price is the return of the worlds you took from us.”

...

When his phone rang Enrico Mueller was having a beer while sitting in the back of his van, watching how a slightly yellow gas streamed into the giant plastic tent ahead of him.

“Pest Control Mueller. We are Bug Stompers. If it bites you we can kill it.”

He listened in surprise how an alien bird was telling him about a war of extinction on his worlds. Horrible monster armies overwhelming the best defences by sheer numbers, eating living and dead. That sounded like a job for the military, not for someone catching rats and termites, he wanted nothing to do with that madness. Until he looked through the fact sheet.

“Oh, I see. You have a nasty case of fire ants. Yeah, those are really nasty little critters. How much it would cost to remove the plague? 50 dollars per hour plus expenses. Three planets? Uh, I think I need to call my brothers, that is a bit too much for one man. No, they are easy to handle if you know how to do them. We have millions of their hives all around our planet.

Hello? Did you just faint?”

...

Note from the author: We have nearly a dozen ant nests in our garden. Thanks god only the small black ones. They are still pretty warmongering but mostly we get along well as long as I respect their territory.

“Oh, oh god, you want believe what I just heard from a buddy of mine, this is great, you won’t believe it.”

“Hmm?”

“Those Grek-nel bastards are going to surrender to the Humans at the council today.”

“Humans?”

“Yeah, that new council race.”

“The pink bipedals from Sol?”

“Well, some of ‘em are different colors, but yeah, that’s them.”

“Didn’t know they were at war with the Greks, I really am out of the loop, and to have won against those assholes already, good for them.”

“That’s the great part, they weren’t at war, ya know how every time a new race becomes acknowledged, invited to the council and taken off the protection list. And how the Grek-nel just sweep over and demand tribute or they will use their nasty little bioweapon.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on their death beetles, they let some lose on Tavrin 4, they breed too fast to get rid of easy, and they’re too small to notice till it’s already an infestation. And they are poisonous. Nearly impossible to get rid of without killing everything else in the area, we had to burn half the fields before harvest time, and we’re still not sure if they got out of the quarantine area.”

“Exactly, so the Greks stroll right up to Earth, that’s the human’s prime planet, and transmit the info on their death beetles to some random military institute. Well, the humans there tell them “We’re not the ones in charge of that” and they should talk to this other place and gives the coordinates. So they transmit to the next site: It’s a science building, they thought the Greks where sharing information, and started sending some back. Turns out Earth is positively covered with shit that makes the death beetles look tame, they got versions that fly. It’s insane. Greks get up and leave fast as they could.”

“Wait, they got lots of ‘em?”

“Yeah, it’s freaky, from what I hear only place with more hostile bugs is Telltra, and no one lives there.”

“That’s messed up”

“Yeah, how many species can say their first military victory was achieved without their military.”

Original Broken Link

Mirror Post - Reddit

Day of the Fat Man

Chapter 1: Shooting Stars

When I was a little Noocar I learned the meaning of cold and hunger. My home world was a poor farm world with short summers and harsh winters but still we usually were able to grow all we needed.

But that year, it started bad. The winter was long and cold and the spring wet and stormy. Our grain didn’t grow, the root-vegetables were foul and the cattle got sick. We barely made it through the summer and in autumn food become scarce. Then the early winter started with our reserves depleted.

On a cold and clear morning I woke up hungry again and sneaked out of the nest where my family shared their warmth, out of our community hall. I decided to collect some bark in the near forest. The bark was hard to chew but filled my stomach and sometimes I found a larvae or a mushroom.

Just when I tried swallowing a really hard piece of bark a loud bang made me look up into the sky. A large and bright shooting star, in broad daylight. I was told I could make a wish now. I wished for food and warmth.

Another shooting star. And another. And many more! Dozens of them! They slowed down, took turns and swarmed in every direction. I had never seen that kind of shooting stars. And one was heading towards our small village. As it came closer it features became more clear. It was a metal construct riding on a blue flame coming out of its back side. As I ran towards my village the construct became larger until it dwarfed every house in the village except the community hall.

When it landed on the large place before the community hall, right in front of me I, was baffled – I had never seen so much metal in one place. Our village was slowly awakening to the loud noises coming from the vehicle, people looking through doors and windows, fear in their eyes.

But I knew they meant no harm. Because they were shooting stars and granted me my wish.

When a huge door opened I stepped closer and looked inside. Warm Air rushed over me from the inside. Then the strangest Noocar I had ever seen handed me a box, talked in a strange language to me, tried to explain something to me. But even though I couldn’t understand his words I knew what he was saying, took the box and ran back to my house!

“Food, they brought food!”

Chapter 2: New Hope

People from beyond the Stars! I couldn’t believe it! Our elders taught us Stars were the tears of the gods but in fact they were the home of these Terrans as they call themselves.

They saw from afar how dire our situation was and organized the largest rescue operation in their entire history. But even for them it was hard to feed an entire world so far away, it cost them huge amounts of resources. Thus we had to sustain on dried food, tasteless but nutritious. Still it filled our stomachs and secured our survival. For days star ships arrived and landed pallets of dried food until our storage was full.

Meanwhile their wise taught us to build better shelter, better fireplaces, gave us better crops and more sturdy cattle. They told us our world was entering an ice age but they had lots of experience with creating global warming and would try to come up with a solution. I thought global warming sounded nice.

When the Terrans finally left there was lots of work to do. Even we kids had to work dawn to dusk for weeks to help building all the new things the Terrans taught us. And finally we were done with our new community hall. It was warm and big and for the winter time we all would sleep in this new and modern building, share a cooking place. After the winter we would build more houses like that but for the time it was good.

It was at the coldest, most quiet time of winter when the Terrans came back one last time.

Chapter 3: First Arrival of the Fat Man

At the falling dusk our community had just gathered in the town hall and started to prepare the evening meal. Salty powder soup with water, like every day for weeks.

Suddenly we hear the sound of a Terran Star Ship circling over our hall – unmistakeable but different? Like many small bells ringing?

We kids ran outside and looked stunned at the strange Terran Star Ship – it was red with horned quadrupeds painted on its side in a way it looked like they pulled the Ship – and while it circled over our small village it rained colourful sparkles and a fat Terran with red clothes and a white beard stood in its side door, laughing loud and deep while throwing little packages outside, gliding slowly down on parachutes.

“HOHOHO! Merry Christmas! HOHOHO! May the warmth of Christmas fill your heart, and its magic spread joy right from the start! HOHOHO!”

After several more turns he shouts “Happy Holidays!” and his ship vanishes in the night.

We collected the colourful packages and found little presents inside. Toys for the kids, nice clothes for the adults, sweet cake for everyone!

We decided to forgo the powder soup. Instead we feasted for the first time in years with the kids laughing and playing with their new toys!

Chapter 4: The new Fat Man

I stand in front of a mirror, checking my outfit. Perfect. Today is Fat Man Day! A very special Fat Man Day for me! Live wasn’t easy but we made it. The Terrans rarely show up nowadays, told us we are masters of our own future.

Sure, we remember the day when the Terrans arrived with boxes of powder soup. It is a holiday we take very serious, where we tell the story about the time of despair and hunger and take an oath to prepare for the next winter.

But the real holiday is the Day of the Fat Man, were we sing and party, feast and drink. Where we give presents to our young and praise the old for having cared well for us in their past.

My wife opens the door, looks outside and giggles me “They are ready!”

I close my red mantle, pull my white beard straight one last time and grab my bag, stepping into the community hall “HOHOHO! The Fat Man is here! Happy Holidays Everyone!”

Worthy

“Human Jeannette Rankin, you stand before the highest cosmic court to defend your species. The court accuses the human species to be dangerous, savage child race. How do you plead?”

UN General-Secretary Jeannette Rankin had been speaking in front of the UN when she suddenly experienced a cold chill and a blinding light and found herself in front of this… court? She stood in a bright beam of light while darkness surrounded her, then that clearly non-human voice addressed her.

“What?” she said.

She quickly realized that wasn’t exactly a pinnacle of eloquence.

“Sorry, I am confused. Where am I and what is the meaning of all of this?”

A different voice boomed “The accused is incapable of following the trial. This species is unfit to plead! We can declare the sentence immediately and commence with the extermination.”

At these words Jean felt her adrenaline rush! She had a vague idea about what she was facing and quickly made a decision.

“NOT GUILTY.”

“But you can't deny that you're a dangerous, savage child race.”

“Most certainly I deny it. I agree we still face numerous problems. But we are aware of them and we get better every day!”

The second voice boomed again “Today you slaughter millions in silly arguments about how to divide the resources of your little world. And four hundred years before that you were murdering each other in quarrels over tribal god-images. There are no indications that humans will ever change. You have nothing to offer to the universe except savagery and pain.“

“We do! We create technology, we create art, we love, we care! We are so much more than our past!”

“Show Evidence!”

Now that was bad. Jean was a lawyer and crisis politician. She could tell the court a thousand good reasons to exterminate the humans but in all this confusion she simply couldn’t come up with something worth showing… Sun Tzu… bad… The Crucification of Jesus Christ from Antonello da Messina… very bad… her own support for death penalty… Teletubbies, Hitler, Ren&Stimpy, Stalin and Mao kissing, George Orwell 1984, Putin with no shirt, Trump playing golf… shit, her mind was running in circles!

“You are exceeding the patient of the court, defendant.”

Here goes nothing she thought and pulled out her phone. No connection. Shit. Was anything stored locally on the phone? … Oh. My. God. That is utterly shameful. But the last chance for humanity.

She started the music video and held it up into the air. Techno-Magic enhanced the video to the size of a house. Silence except for the Beats of the cheesy pop song. The video had been accidentally sent to the internal mailing-list of the UNHCR and she personally had given the responsible intern a nasty scolding.

Suddenly some sounds started to join the rhythm… did the aliens “clap”?

More “clapping” joined the beats.

A light started to shine above a being in the dark, it jerked like it…. a dancing huge locust?

Another fury creature appeared in the dark, swaying his tail with the rhythm.

And another, then some more… suddenly the dark room was filled with hundreds of dancing and swinging creatures and finally light flooded the whole room, like a disco ball started to spin! Hundreds of weird creatures, avians, crustaceans, dragons, metal beings, they all moved to the beat, clapped their extremities, twittered, howled! A giant rhino like creature rose up and tried replicating the dancing movements from the video – and was actually not bad.

Could it be…???

Just dance, Jean, she thought and joined in! She had learned ballet and rock’n’roll dance in her youth and even though she had long left that era behind she still knew how to dance, how to join the beat and to swing her hips!

For four minutes the whole court was dancing, hopping, howling, singing!

Then the video was over.

“Order!” boomed the first voice and the room darkened again. “We have seen enough.”

For a minute, which felt like eternity, nothing happened. Jean felt sweat running down her back. Fear about the future but also exhaustion from dancing wild.

Then the first voice boomed again. “Your species is extraordinary. Your art is unique. The colours, the music, the emotions, the hope. Working together for the better of all, to live free and in harmony. Such a positive vision of the future, the joy, the will to work together for a better future. The mercy for the opponent.”

Silence.

The second voice spoke up again.

“We are sorry that we have been blinded by your past, misinformed by your enviers.

You are Worthy.

Case dismissed.”

“Thank you…”

Before she had finished the words she experienced the cold chill and the blinding light again and stood back in front of the UN. The hall was in uproar, the ambassadors were guided outside while armed security streamed inside.

“SHE IS BACK!”

The Rumanian ambassador pointed at her and shouted again

“SHE IS BACK!”

The Chief of Security shouted through the room “Are you ok? What happened?”

Jean grabbed the microphone which was still active from when she was speaking to the UN only minutes ago, but an era away.

“I think Katy Perry just saved humanity with California Girls.”

...

Thumbs up to the remote cousin who asked me to proof read her school analysis of said video.

I hid two other Easter eggs in the story. One historical, one from media. Whoever finds one first earns my deepest respect.

In other news, the mentioned intern is currently preparing a deal of 98 SM-5 missiles. Dunno if that rings a bell.

But enough of cheesy pop for me. Now listening to “dArtagnan - We're gonna be drinking ft. Candice Night, Blackmore's Night“ – Cheers!

The Terran

Bobegnop has had it. He tried keeping his damaged shuttle flightworthy while entering the atmosphere of a remote Terran colony. All while the mad Terran was trying to break into the pilots cabin. What started as a simple recon mission ended in utter chaos!

His hive mistress Sbark had found something about a new species in the diplomatic reports, the Terrans. And that the Nacluv Birds where practically shitting themselves even thinking about them. She showed a video where a Terran easily subdued a Nacluv Bird. Tore him apart, without mercy! What past grievance drove the Terrans to such cruelty? The mighty Empire of Nacluv. Fearing a newcomer species. It was too good to be true.

Sbark, that half hatched idiot, was sure they would make for good soldiers for the Retsbol Hive if given the right incentive, giving finally the Hive the power to put down the arrogant Nacluvs for good!

A week later Bobegnop was commanding a light frigate towards Terran space. They looked for a Terran for a while and finally found one taking a sun bath near a grain field. A hideous creature, a mammal, obviously an experienced hunter, deep eyes fixating the landing party, so much different than his insect brothers. They tried stunning the Terran but it knew what they were up to and evaded with ease, hunted them down to the light frigate and only by sheer luck they managed to trap him in the airlock, half his crew badly beaten up. By the good hive mother, if that creature had know where their shells had their weak spots it would have easily killed half his crew!

For days they tried communicating. The creature was obviously very smart and knew exactly they tried to communicate with it. But it also was sneaky, patient, and FAST! Every time it appeared docile, every time it lay sleepy in a corner, every single time it was a ruse! As soon as they opened the door it jumped at them, trying to escape. And after a while it just did. With a mad jump it flew above the experienced hive warriors and vanished into the deeps of the ship.

For a whole week we searched for it. Crawled after it through maintenance tubes. Tried luring it into traps in the storage room. But it evaded everything while tearing the ship slowly apart from the inside. A ripped wire here, a clogged pipe there, a tool hidden somewhere, a cup of liquid carelessly poured into a delicate machinery. And it ate everything. Small critters living in small holes, the grass in the arboretum, once it even ripped of a leg of a soldier which we later found eaten. Horrible!

In the end I had enough. The frigate was considered nearly a total loss, most of my crew were wounded and hiding in the sick bay. So I did what a captain had to do. I lured the Terran into my shuttle by using our last rations and finally managed to trap it. But I was also trapped in the pilot department, the mad Terran in the passenger room behind me.

It deserved death. But I was not the Retsbol able to make his just end. So I took the shuttle craft to the planet where we fetched it. Landed near the field where the horrors began. And finally, just a mere press of a button away, the farce would be over.

I pressed the button but nothing happened. The Terran hat ripped out the power to the shuttle door. I was trapped here forever with this eldritch horror. I made my peace.

...

“Howdy Partner? What kind of critter are you?”

Waking up from an unhealthy sleep, I watched through the windscreen at a strange and big creature which had just knocked at my shuttle and yelled so loud I could hear him inside my shuttle. The translator worked perfectly, so much better than with the Terran. Pointing to where the outside phone was accessible he quickly understood what I tried to do and picked up the phone.

“Howdy, never seen such a creature like you before. You are from the stars?”

“Oh yes. We tried contacting a Terran. But he is so cruel and now I am trapped with him inside this shuttle. Can you see this daemon from the side window?”

The two legged creature stepped to the side window, gazed inside for a moment.

“The orange fellow?”

“Yes, that is him!”

“Oh, I see the problem. I know the little rascal, have been searching for him for days. Just open the door and I will take care of him.”

“You are sure? It is a dangerous being!”

“Nah, I know all his dirty little tricks and actually he accepted me as a friend a while ago. Just open the door, I’ll be good.”

“You need to pull the door open manually, the Terran destroyed the mechanism.”

“Roger that. Pull here?”

The being nearly ripped out the shuttle door, bending it slightly but opened it up halfway. The Terran flexed his muscles and made it to the door, straight at the being, obviously out for blood!

“Hey Garfield you little tomcat! Where have you been? Did you visit some aliens?”

The ‘Tomcat’ was jumping up into the arms of the being but instead of mangling him he started to caress him, started to purr, obviously feeling happy seeing his friend again.

“You are hungry and dirty, what shenanigans did you play with the funny alien? You have been a bad cat?”

“Meow!”

“Yeah, I see. You are happy being home again. Hey Lobster Guy, you can come out now. He is relaxed and I will keep you safe.”

Bobegnop carefully climbed through the half open door, looked up to the two legged creature. Garfield looked back angrily, making a hissing noise.

“Big Being, what are you? You know these Terrans?”

“Sure, we are both from Terra. I am a human, names Jon. That fat fellow here is Garfield, he is a cat. Want me to make contact to out government for a proper fist contact? Or are you just passing by?”

“Uh, well, I think first contact sounds good… what the HELL IS THAT?”

The Lobster Guy pointed at another four legged creature running towards them with his fangs wide open, that monster was easily five times the size of Garfield!

The human looked towards the newcomer with a smile “Ah, that is Lassie. She is a good dog and very protective, she surely missed Garfield even though both of them are constantly fighting. She… where did you go?”

Bobegnop slammed the door to the pilot cabin shut and started the engine, running for his live! No matter how wrecked his shuttle, no matter how busted his frigate was, he would take the risk of limping home! And he would write a strong worded letter to the Hive mistress to completely avoid Terran space at all costs!

The Typo which saved Humanity

Secretary of the defence Norbert Braun smashed a bundle of documents at Rick van Hout desk and held him a newspaper into the face.

“Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me.”

Van Hout looked at the headline, his face becoming sour.

Braun reads the headline aloud and angry “European Defence Agency procures 98,000 Standard Missile 5 for the fight against the Eurasian Axis, Tesla-Raytheon-Defence rises 17,6%.”

“What? We never ordered 98.000 of these! It was my project, we requested a test batch of 98 units and that is what was written in the contract!” van Hout defended himself.

“No, seriously, I read it five times, you have signed a contract over 98000 SM-5 missiles! Who the hell needs 98.000 intercontinental hunter-killer missiles with multiple warheads?

Van Hout gasps. “Oh my good. These stupid Yankees use commas for separating thousands and everyone else is using points. But I never put commas or points into the contract?”

“Please tell me you signed the papers on embassy ground.”

“Well, we wanted to but then we went over to Luigi for lunch… and that is US territory. And subject to a US court.”

“You just ordered enough firepower to wipe out a dozen alien invasion fleets for a little under 320 billion euros. You Dumbfuck!”

...

Two weeks later van Hout was leaving the council building. The situation somewhat cleared up. It was a conversion mistake between Excel and Word and only appeared in a last minute change when Rick changed the name of a deceased lawyer. Rick was demoted and sent to Dirtistan, signing export papers for manure for the rest of his life.

It took a year of diplomatic talks to lower the order to 73000 units and a hefty mass rebate drove the price down to 110 billion euros. Also half of the units would be produced in Europe. The usual diplomatic trade bullshit. Also after the first 500 units the EDA received an upgraded Block 2 version, and later even more upgraded block 3 and block 4 versions for the same price. Still, the deal made Tesla-Raytheon-Defence piles of money.

Even though these missiles were crazy expensive they worked well and kept improving from batch to batch. Fired from a distance up to 2000 klicks they searched for targets, evaluated them and then closed in, swarmed the objective while taking crazy evasion maneuvers. The Eurasian Axis lost all air control in just two weeks, nearly every armoured vehicle a month later and when Block 3 arrived in numbers their orbital assets went the way of the Dodo too.

Still having around 65000 units to spend the EDA used them to hunt everything down to squad size units. Sure, that was an expensive overkill but then the stuff was lying around, had no other use and governments love saving money by wasting it. Two months later most forces of the Eurasian Axis had surrendered or rebelled.

The war was over and there were still 43000 SM-5 systems left. The EDA had no use for these and sold most of them cheaply to their allies.

The war was expensive but at least quick and with little own losses. The story could have been over here except Humanity made a bad first contact.

...

When a fleet of alien star ships entered the solar system and told us we had the honour of becoming the sixth servant race of their mighty empire everyone was sure we were all doomed. We had only a handful of tiny scientific interplanetary ships and not a single armed one. So we tried to bargain the best possible conditions without fighting back.

Things went from bad to worse when a single SM-5 forgotten in the orbit over the former Eurasian enemy decided it didn’t like the enemies flag ship. It send a short note to SHAPE that it identified an eurasian submarine in low earth orbit and blew a big fat hole into it.

Now the new offer was to level our cities and enslave all our people. Without nothing to lose we just activated the roughly 100 SM-5 still loitering in orbit.

And the war was over before it began. The 100 SM-5 simply shredded half of the enemy force with them not even knowing what hit em. They retreated while warning us they would be back with reinforcements and the next battle would be different.

It wasn’t. They came, we send a swarm of SM-5, they died. Over and over again. Even when their fourth fleet was twenty times larger than their first fleet. We didn’t even had to use Block 4 units. We just hit them with old Block 2 and surplus Block 3. Often they died far away from earth orbit and all their ordinance fired at our home world was simply taken out by some more SM-5.

Again and Again and Again.

They lost nearly 6.000 star ships, with a total tonnage of 210 million. It was a massacre.

Just five years later we still had 18,000 Block 3 and Block 4 units, not to mention another 350,000 freshly produced Block 5 and 6 units. Then the attacks stopped. So we thought it was time for a return visit. We scraped together all the wrecks, patched up the holes and planned big battles.

The big battles never happened. For most of the enemies 30 worlds it was enough to send in a large freighter and spill a couple of hundreds SM-5 outside. They took care of the space born resistance and the planets themselves usually surrendered quickly.

All in all ten years after first contact humanity had liberated 30 planets from slavery.

...

“We have a problem. Many of the 30 liberated worlds are close to famine.”

Ex-Ambassador Braun looked up from his glass of red wine into the face of his successor Marguerite Jabotinsky, who just had arrived next to him. They both were sitting at Luigi's in New York, enjoying a lovely dawn.

“Well, Marguerite, no one would have expected for the enemy to falter that fast and on such a scale. May I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Thanks, I guess I need a drink anyway. We could easily lose all our gains, our popular support from the liberated aliens if the situation gets worse. Aren’t any earth nations able to increase food production? Tapping into reserves?”

“Well, sorry but the world production of food is already at its limit, there simply isn’t enough land. And no matter how deep we dig into the reserves, it wont be enough for 30 worlds. They need to increase food production locally. But don’t ask me how. They would need hundreds of million tons of fertilizer.”

Marguerites phone rang. She took the phone, listened for a moment. Disbelieve in her eyes. Then she laughed and hung up.

“You wouldn’t believe what I was just told! Some dumbfuck assistant of our dirtistan embassy had accidentally ordered one fucking billion tons of fertilizer last year instead of one million and now nobody knows what to do with it.”

“Let me guess, his name was Rick van Hout?”

Welcome to HFY!!!!

This community is for authors to post their HFY themed stories and artists to share HFY themed artwork.

While traditional science fiction often presents humans as vulnerable masses seeking refuge from menacing aliens or as feeble beings overshadowed by aliens with superior logic, strength or empathy. HFY disrupts these archetypes by challenging the norm.

In the world of HFY, humanity is bestowed with exceptional qualities, giving rise to a sense of optimism and empowerment within the reader. It seeks to uplift and inspire, demonstrating the potential of human greatness and the capacity for overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds.

Alternatively, HFY can also serve as a thought-provoking cautionary tale. Emphasizing the significance of power and responsibility that accompanies any remarkable gift or advantage bestowed upon us.

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1. Make sure to get permission from the original author.
2. Add a link to the original post.

This community is created for everyone in the fidiverse to enjoy their favourite genre of science fiction.

For Humans are Space Orcs themed stories, please visit !haso@sh.itjust.works

HASO themed stories/artwork can still be HFY if the humans in the story/artwork insipre the readers or other characters in the story. An example of this is Stellaris Invicta Season 1 - Greater Terran Union

If your story/art showcases how powerful/terrible/intelligent humans are, without any characteristics that seem to uplift or inspire readers or characters in the story, then the story belongs to haso