Updated Story List

Contained here are a wide selection of Humans are Weird stories. 

Ever wonder what an interstellar war with humanity would look like? Or how about debating ethics and political ideals with an alien empire? 

Or maybe all you wonder is how frustrating it would be to try and explain Minecraft is and why a Bionic Commando had his wife made into his new arm. 

Whatever your flavor I’m sure you’ll find a story here that you will like :) 

Stories with recuring characters are organized together, while stories that follow certain themes.

The list now includes 80+ new stories since the last update. 

Humans are weird: S.A.S to the rescue.

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“Would you care to explain your actions?”

“I would think my actions obvious enough that they not need explanation.”

Galdun looked at the human officer standing before him and felt his anger rising by the second. Were they under his command he would have simply beheaded the soldier for their actions and disrespect, but as they were human and an ally of the war he was forbidden from carrying out such standard reprisals.

They stood in front of his desk as their still wet and muddy uniform created an ever growing mess on what had once been a priceless rug. Though torn in some places Galdun could still make out the ranking patch on the should the human officers used identifying them as a “Major”, which only further added to Galdun’s problems.

“Were you one of my soldiers I would have you flogged for such disobedience.”

The human smiled at this and rubbed the mud off his upper lip.

“Than it is a fine thing that I am not one of your soldiers and I can talk to you however I damned well please.”

An intimidating shade of red slowly began forming across Galdun’s face as his rage boiled over. He rose to his feet, sending the chair he sat upon clattering to the floor, and strode around the desk to stand in front of the human. He had to tilt his head down to look at their face.

“Your actions may have very well just cost us the war.” Galdun spoke through clenched teeth. “And yet you still stand here with such brazen indifference.”

The human’s face dropped the childish expression and turned serious at the accusation.

“I fail to see how one bridge could have changed the war, unless your own incompetence placed such a high value on the thing.” they replied dryly.

Turning back to his desk, Galdun swiped away the obstructions on it to reveal a map of the local area. To the unfamiliar person the various lines and numbers scribbled on it would have made little sense, but to the human and Galdun they knew it to be enemy positions, patrols, store houses, and other military matters gleamed through intelligence operations. The point of interest lay not with the enemy locations however, but in the surrounding terrain; particularly with the fact that there was a two kilometer river separating the enemy and their own positions with a single bridge spanning the length of the river.

Galdun’s finger jabbed directly at the location of the bridge. “Tomorrow morning my soldiers were to storm across the bridge you so callously destroyed and push through their defense line to reach their supply depot some three kilometers away.”

He ran his finger from the bridge due east on the map to a red circle indicating the enemy depot.

“Without the supplies from this base and the routes their logistics intersects with we could have crippled them in this theater and forced them to retreat.”

“Yet thanks to your blunder you have destroyed that plan as well as you have destroyed my bridge!”

Galdun looked up from the map to see the human now viewing him with open disdain and disgust.

“You will find there was nothing blundered or half-arsed in our operation.” The human retorted. “What we did was nothing less than surgical precision bringing down a massive fucking bridge from right under yours and our enemy’s nose.”

“But why?”

It was a question Galdun would not let go unanswered so long as he had the human before him. “Why would your command order you to destroy the bridge?”

A smirk flashed across the human’s face before vanishing beneath mild indifference once more.

“You have been misinformed if you believe we were ordered to destroy the bridge at all.” The human answered.

Galdun was beyond confusion at hearing this. It was as if he had just been thrown into a pit of madness. Thankfully the human continued their explanation before he became so crazed he strangled them there and then.

“Our orders, like yours, were to destroy the depot by any means necessary.”

“But-“ Galdun began before the human interrupted him.

“It was my determination that by destroying the bridge the enemy would therefore no longer see this as a viable point of approach and redeploy their forces; thus allowing my men and I to proceed through their lines to the depot itself and destroy it.”

“Proceed through.” Galdun mocked. “Did you forget that there was a massive river separating you still? How in the seven hells did you think you’d cross that without the bridge? Are your men fish now!?! Can you breathe in water!!?!”

The human stepped around Galdun and looked at the map before launching a wad of spit on it.

“My men and I have swum the channel back on my homeworld, and this thing is a fucking stream compared to that.”

“You would swim through it?” Galdun asked startled by the audacity of the response.

“Of course not you idiot,” the human chuckled, “we’d use dinghy’s and paddle first, and if that failed then we’d swim across.”

The alien commander ran his hands across his face and tried to massage away the tension that had been building every moment he had been forced to endure with this human.

“So both of our goals were to cross the river and then destroy the depot; yet you destroyed the easiest way across.”

“Well it’s not like you shared your plan with us either.” The human countered.

“It should have been obvious!” Galdun roared. “Why not take the easiest path across the river first! Why wasn’t that your first intention from the beginning?!”

For the first time the human laughed in front of Galdun and pointed to a patch on his uniform.

“See this?” they asked Galdun. “This means we’re S.A.S; and we aren’t paid to take the easiest path.” --------------------

It was another two hours before Major Oskar King was finally done with listening to the twaddle of his supposed ally and left their command center.

As he made his way through their war camp he saw the aliens standing down and returning to their barracks blocks while vehicles were slowly taken off the line to be returned to waiting maintenance bays.

At the front entrance was his driver and second in-command waiting with a jeep. The engine was thankfully running so he just hopped in and the pair sped off without further discussion with the alien guards watching over them.

“How’d things go?” Captain Morris asked as he started weaving their way back to the S.A.S staging ground.

Oskar pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and tried to light it, before giving up under the bleeding wind snuffing out his lighter and throwing it away.

“Like having two forks stuffed in your ears and your brain would up like spaghetti.”

The Captain laughed but kept his eyes on the road. “I told you they’d be upset about the loss of their bridge.”

“A loss that costs them less than if they advanced across the damned thing.” Oskar grunted.

“How do you figure, sir?”

In response the Major waved a hand back at their ally’s camp. “Half their machines are being held together by scraps of fucking duct tape and their men by prayer and copious amounts of pain killers.”

“Not surprising after all the fighting they’ve been in to get here.” The Captain countered, but this just made Oskar disappointed.

“Their CO’s only see the forest for the trees. They’d be dead before they made it halfway across the bridge, and the poor sods that did make it across by the grace of whatever gods they have wouldn’t make it any further when our enemy’s launch a full counter assault to pick the buggers out.”

“So blowing the bridge was a mercy for them?” the Captain asked almost laughing. “I’ve never known you to be of the noble sort.”

“I’m not.”

The Captain turned to see Oskar was grinning again.

“They may have been spared a trip but we’re still be needing to get across that little river. Hope you brought your bathers, cause we don’t have any dinghy’s.”

“Another day in the S.A.S I suppose.” The Captain sighed as he surrendered to the inevitable.

Humans are weird: Wrath of the Pirate Queen Part 1

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“We should have just paid them.”

“It would have bankrupted-“

Mulgrade smashed his fist into the council table. “And this isn’t?!?”

He held up a hand at the holographic projection of data feeds scrolling in front of the small council. Countless ship loses, supply convoys ambushed and destroyed, stations raided and looted across the entire subsector.

“The pirate queen has cost us three times as much damage than what she inflicted upon the Hash’tu and we’re still at war with the alien bastards!”

With a swipe of a few keys Mulgrade brought up the war map showing the latest frontline between the Hash’tu and the Cosmic Federation. The lines had stabilized when the pirate queen had been employed by the Federation. Her fleet had conducted several successful raids behind Hash’tu lines, even going so far as to destroy not only a massive orbital station, but also the defense fleet stationed inside it and the planet it had been orbiting when the station lost orbit and crashed into the planet’s surface.

“This is what it looked like six weeks ago.” Mulgrade addressed the council. ‘And this is what it looks like since then.”

The map began to slowly change with the passage of time. Pockets of conflict within Hash’tu lines ceased completely and began appearing behind the Federation’s lines instead. The frequency of attacks was nearly triple what had been carried out inside the Hash’tu. The Federation then began losing ground to repeated Hash’tu attacks including three systems before reaching the current date.

“Since we failed to pay her she has turned her fleet on us entirely.”

“What of the Hash’tu?” one of the councilors asked. “Surely they have not given up on seeking vengeance for what happened?”

“Not exactly,” Mulgrade answered as he rubbed his eyes in frustration. “They are still bent on destroying her, but in the meantime so long as she continues carrying out attacks against ourselves they are content to postpone their retribution.”

“Another reason is they may not have the forces to openly confront her and us at the same time.”

Mulgrade looked up to see a new figure enter the chamber. They wore a starch white indicating themselves to be part of Military Intelligence. Their cold blue eyes circled the room before settling on Mulgrade and giving a crisp salute.

“And you are?” one of the councilors inquired.

“Jim Hark,” the new figure replied, “special operative of Military Intelligence and former caseworker of Operation Rogue.”

Another round of murmurs before Mulgrade noticed something in Mr. Hark’s reply.

“So you were the one who was in charge of keeping Amelia in check?”

To his surprise Mr. Hark shook his head. “Sadly that responsibility was with the former caseworker Jacob Montigue.”

“Then why aren’t we speaking with them?”

Mr. Hark gave a sheepish shrug. “Jacob died at the hands of Captain Starfeld shortly after refusing to pay her for her recent exploits; I was assigned after.”

“What did you mean that the Hash’tu couldn’t afford to engage the pirates?”

Mulgrade was not going to let the conversation become bogged down with needless history lessons.

“As you know,” Mr. Hark replied by taking control of the holographic projector and bringing up the datasheet of Amelia Starfeld, “the more infamy a pirate obtains the more respect they garner in the criminal elements of our universe.”

Mulgrade nodded and allowed Hark to continue.

“Her recent successes have garnered her unprecedented levels of fame within such groups and now smaller elements of outlaws have been flocking to her banner for a chance at fame and glory.”

He pointed to a specific detailing of her fleet composition. “Originally she had a small fleet with her flagship and at least half a dozen smaller ships; but now she is commanding several fleets numbering easily over one hundred vessels divided into raiding groups with their own commander and objectives.”

“So you are saying we have created a monster?” Mulgrade put together as the last few battles began making more and more sense. The devastation she had wrought coupled with the vast fortune of goods stolen during her raids was all but ensuring that her name sake was far from just a mere honorary title. She truly was becoming the Pirate Queen.

“Indeed,” Hark nodded, “and like any monster it retreats to its lair after each raid to regroup, giving us the perfect chance to rid ourselves of her once and for all.”

“You’re talking of the “Shallow”, if I am not mistaken.”

“Correct.” Hark agreed. “It has been confirmed by several sources that after each successful raid Amelia will retreat to the Shallow for debauchery and resupply before heading out again.”

Hark entered several keys and a hologram of the void station appeared. It was easily the largest station outside of core territory but it still had a ways to go before becoming truly self-sufficient.

“My plan is to take the Storm Breaker, and a small escort fleet, and assault Amelia’s hiding spot in the Shallow rid ourselves of her once and for all.”

“Do you think it possible?” Mulgrade asked.

The Shallow was not the most heavily armed station, but from what Mulgrade had heard it was the epicenter of criminal activity amongst the stars and he doubted that their fleet would be able to simply walk in and grab them by any means necessary.

“To ensure operational stability I will be personally overseeing the mission.” Hark answered. “Believe me when I say that the sun has finally set for our most hated Pirate Queen.”

Humans are weird: Terror Campaign Part 3: No way out

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(A continuation of the "Humans are weird: Terror Campaign" series. )

The butchers were nowhere to be seen. As quickly as they had descended on his squad they had retreated into the shadows of the city. The lack of presence however was far from a comfort for Flent.

Flent couldn’t see the murderous machines anymore, but he could feel as if every move what was left of his squad made was under the calculating gaze. They were waiting for the right moment to strike, when their numbers or environment advantages would benefit them most and they could finish off the rescue party once and for all.

His squad had cleared out of the bloody lobby in good order back into the streets. He’d half expected the human slaughter bots to have attacked them again after their confrontation at the vault, but no such attack came.

From the corner of his eyes he could see a wave of relief wash over the faces of each squad member as they stepped back out into the sunlight. They’d be able to see the machines coming a mile away and gun them down easily before they could ever drive their cleaver fingers into them.

“Move it!” Flent shouted to keep his men focused, “Double time to evac now!”

The moment of comfort was short as the squad picked up their pace and followed Flent.

What they had failed to realize yet was they had maybe two to three hours of sunlight left before the cold of night descended upon them. Then those things would have the advantage a thousand fold to pick them off at their leisure.

“Dropship one, where are you?”

There was a long pause of static that made Flent’s heart skip a beat before the radio channel crackled.

“This is dropship one, approaching new evac location ten blocks to your south; recommend you hurry.”

Between the eerie silences of the dead city Flent could hear the faint thrum of the craft’s engines as it drew closer.

“Negative,” Flent replied, “request immediate pickup at current location.”

“No can do ground pound.” The pilot’s voice said with a smug undertone. “My craft’s nimble but I’m not risking it between those narrow streets. New evac point is an open park with plenty of space for my baby to land and dust off. Get there or get left behind.”

With an annoying click the pilot ended the transmission and Flent stifled a select choice of words he wished to scream. When he opened his eyes he saw every member of his squad looking at him as they too no doubt heard the conversation over the radio.

“You heard the sky prick,” Flent said dryly as he began making his way south, “get moving.”

“They’ll rip us apart before we even make it!”

He shot a glare at the soldier who spoke up and they coughed loudly as if trying to swallow the words they had just spoken back into their throat.

“Then we better move fast.” Flent said coldly.

He gave no chance for rebuttal and began double timing south. A few moments later he heard the sound of footsteps following him and knew his squad realized they only had one chance for survival.

They made it about five blocks before Morin, a trooper who had served him for the last three rotations, pulled up alongside him.

“Sir.” He whispered softly as his eyes scanned the buildings.

“I know.”

Flent’s response was equally quiet and short. He cast a quick glance into a nearby skyscraper and saw what had drawn Morin’s attention.

From the inner shadows of the buildings were countless sets of glowing red eyes. He couldn’t make out the shapes connected to them but for the last two blocks they had slowly been increasing in number.

“Should I-“ Morin began but Flent shook his head.

“Getting caught here won’t do us any good.” Flent replied as he took a sidelong glance back at the rest of his men. “Just keep moving.”

 None of them seemed to have noticed the eyes yet and were purely focused on just putting one foot in front of the other. If they saw the enemy machines gathering around them now they’d panic and Flent wasn’t sure if he could keep the squad together if they all broke down into madness.

“I can see it!”

Flent was broken from his trance as he heard one of his soldiers shout and point ahead.

There, at the center of a small open park, was the waiting dropship. The engines still running and the loading ramp full down and waiting for them.

At the sight of their salvation the rest of the team broke out into an all-out sprint to the dropship. Flent was likewise optimistic about their survival rate now, but he still could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Dropship one, we see you now and are approaching from your north west.” Flent spoke into his radio.

No response.

“Dropship one repeat; we are within visual range and are approaching from your north west.”

Still no response.

By now Flent and his team were just entering the park. The sun had begun setting and the long shadows of the skyscrapers draping across the fields of green. It was only now that Flent had gotten closer did he get a better view of the dropship…..and the suspiciously large hole in the front viewport.

“Squad hold!” he shouted, but it was already too late. His men had just made it to the bottom of the boarding ramp and turned at Flent’s warning when one of the terror machines emerged from within the hold.

The poor bastard didn’t even have time to feel the mechanical claw pierce through his chest cavity. A bloody limb of mechanical parts drenched in his intestines was all he had time to see before the other arm smoothly decapitated the soldier’s head.

Flent’s rifle was in position and firing before the head had even touched the ground. The mechanical nightmare used the bisected cadaver as a shield to block incoming fire while the rest of the squad leapt back in horror. Morin was one of those few and was likewise unloading on full auto fire, his voice harsh from a mixture rage and fear.   

What was left of the bloody remains lasted for a less than a minute before simply evaporating from the combined plasma fire and the machine behind it rocking with every impact. It took a backwards step as if to seek shelter in the craft only for a plasma round to take out its left knee and send it tumbling down the boarding ramp.

It made one final attempt to grab hold of Morin before Flent ran up and put three plasma rounds through the things head and it collapsed to the ground. The mechanical body twitched and showered the ramp in sparks as the team caught their breath.

“It was a fraking trap.” Flent shouted as he kicked the mechanical body. “And we fraking walked right into it.”

 The sun now setting leaving only a few stray beams of light for illumination as the city once more returned to a deathly silence. From the edges of the park Flent could now see a growing mass of red eyes slowly converging on them.

There was nowhere to find, nowhere to fallback too.

With grim determination Flent slammed a fresh plasma charge into his weapon and began firing as the sun finally set behind him.

Humans are weird: The Music Boxer

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When humanity truly began expanding into the stars they brought many things with them. Philosophy, war, Gelato, and even furry creatures called “Cats” which became regarded as god like beings to some societies. One thing often not discussed was their enthusiastic forms of physical activity play called “Sports”.

Initially, sports were regarded as little more than children activities by non-human species. In the face of scientific research and warfare which dominated the galactic plane many did not have time for such things; yet when compared to the seriousness of which humans regarded some sports and their willingness to “throw hands”, as the humans said when initiating physical violence, over sporting disputes it started to gain more traction.

Militaristic species like the Vendari and the Koon quickly adopted Football and Soccer, as they both highlighted physical strength and strategic thinking. The Mig became enthralled by Golf as they enjoyed careful planning and mathematical positioning. Even the Nucal started using beer pong to resolve political debates, although primarily for the fact it allowed them to drink.

One sport that really took off and soon formed a pan-galactic tournament was boxing. Although, it’s primary title holder was somewhat of a controversial pick.

Gen’Vo was the most renowned boxer throughout the quadrant and current title holder of pan-galactic contender, the highest award given for the tournament. They were also a Trippit, which meant they had innate telepathic abilities which included mind reading.

Many of their wins were attributed to the fact Gen’Vo could literally read the mind of their opponent and know exactly what they were about to do. This led to an outpour of challenges to Gen’Vo’s victories, yet the tournament guidelines specifically stated that they would not dissuade boxers based on their species abilities. It was a delicate tightrope to walk but it was intended to ensure that all those who wished to enter the ring could. Otherwise the overly muscular Sep’nicks would never have been able to enter, nor would the insect like Dri.

Gen’Vo held the title for some seven years until finally meeting his match against the one opponent who was capable of defeating them.

Marco Arena, a human boxer.

While the initial creators of the sport, most alien participants didn’t think Marco would be able to hold his own again Gen’Vo during the final match. Their mind reading powers had already been proven to be hyper effective with defeating foe after foe.

When the bell sounded both fighters rushed forward. Gen’Vo started to read Marco’s mind but was surprised to hear nothing but music playing. They became so lost in the confusion that they failed to raise their guard fast enough to block a powerful right uppercut Marco unleashed.

Gen’Vo road the blow to prevent serious damage but was still shaken. They retreated several paces and tried to read Marco’s mind again as he continued advancing; yet only heard the same musical patterns playing.

Marco delivered a flurry of punches in rapid succession that Gen’Vo was barely able to defend against. The few instances Marco left himself open and Gen’Vo stepped in to deliver a blow of their own Marco would retreat and counter as Gen’Vo over extended.

It was almost as if Marco was the one reading minds now, and for the first time Gen’Vo was devoid of his telepathic abilities.

The match lasted three rounds before Marco finally delivered a blow so hard it sent Gen’Vo flying from the ring and out into the watching crowd. Safe to say they did not get up from the blow and Marco was declared the winner.

When asked on how the human had been able to defeat the mind reading effects of Gen’Vo Marco admitted that for the last three months he had trained his body to respond to certain notes within a song. Which notes meant attack, block, push forward, retreat, etc. He trained so hard that his body no longer needed a mental command to perform an action; his muscle memory was so strong his body would react by itself.

Once again proving the deadliness of humans; even when at sports.

Humans are weird: Uncomfortable Interrogation

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The cell door slid open with a wet grinding shriek and Mil’nok stepped through. Binar was waiting outside and immediately stifled his nose from the full aroma of the interrogator. He would have rather done this progress check over a communicator but his superiors were impatient with waiting for results and demanded he meet with their most efficient interrogator in person.

Mil’nok was covered in a variety of stains and fluids from head to thorax; his gloved talons still dripping red from the blood of their prisoner. His face was covered in a strange surgical mask that to Binar resembled ones used by physicians but was modified with a series of tubes that ran from the mask to a small container on his back.

“Greetings, Mil’nok.” Binar spoke as he nodded a greeting. Mil’nok said nothing and instead walked over to a nearby sink and began washing the blood off his gloves.

“Why are you here?” Mil’nok spoke over his shoulder. “I do not like having my work disrupted.”

Their voice was given a deep rasping reverberation through the mask that made Binar take a step back in shock before quickly recovering.

“It is the quality of your work that brings me here; and the lack of results it has brought.”

The stream of water shut off and the interrogator grasped the sides of the sink.

“Are you questioning my methods?”

There was an edge of restrained anger in his voice now, but Binar would not be so easily intimidated.

“You were given this prisoner over two months ago and we were promised answers to the questions we gave you, and since then we have been given nothing; so yes, we are questioning your methods.”

With heavy footfalls Mil’nok turned and strode towards Binar. While on the outside Binar appeared calm internally he was slowly drowning in terror as the interrogator finally stopped and looked down at him.

Slowly, Mil’nok undid the tubes from his mask; short bursts of gas expelling from them before they fell lazily to his shoulders. With one hand he reached behind his head and unclasped the mask while the other removed it slowly. Binar looked is quiet surprise as he saw the face of the empire’s most renowned interrogator.

They were far more youthful then he had expected and their face was free from the numerous scars he had imagined. One might even make the argument that he was standard attractive.

“You,” Mil’nok began with his normal voice, “have my apologies.”

Whatever Binar had been expecting this was certainly not it. He stood somewhat dumbfounded as Mil’nok strode away again and began removing the rest of his outfit.

“I have found myself at an impasse with this subject and I regret to say I am unable to break them.”

This had also not what Binar had expected to hear, and it certainly was the last thing he wanted to.

“I simply cannot believe what I am hearing.” Binar strode over to Mil’nok as they opened a nearby locker and began removing their normal clothes. “You have extracted information from far more imposing prisoners!”

Mil’nok shook his head. “It is not something so easily explained to someone not of the trade.”

Binar’s hand slammed into the locker shutting it and glared up at Mil’nok. “Try me.” He said coldly.

Mil’nok looked down at Binar then back at the cold cell door. No sounds had emanated from the cell since Mil’nok had exited it.

“They…..make me uncomfortable.”

The intelligence officer looked at Mil’nok dumbfounded. “They make you…uncomfortable? That is your reason for the lack of information?!”

He could not report this to his superiors. For one thing they would never believe him, and for another they would have his head for recommending Mil’nok in the first place.

Mil’nok for the first time began to look uneasy.

“The subject seems to enjoy my methods.”

“They enjoy what?!!?”

Now Binar looked at the cell door and took a few steps back. He knew the subject couldn’t physically break through the door, but now it seemed like an evil presence radiated from the room and he wished to remain far from it.

Mil’nok’s mouth opened and closed as if they could not find the right words to describe what he had seen.

“When I removed their finger and toe nails, they laughed. When I broke their finders, they cried when there was no more to break. When I filled them with needles they asked for more. When I stole the very air from their lungs again and again they looked at me with such glee in their eyes. When I held their limbs over open flames and watched their flesh turn black from the burns they said something smelled tasty.”

They shook their head as if trying to dissolve the memories. “Every failure only drove me to increase the pain, to inflate the torture and pain; yet they still never gave me anything.”

“Finally I had enough and told them if they did not answer me I would flay them alive from head to toe the next day; and do you want to know what they said?”

Binar gave no response so Mil’nok continued.

“They said “Why tomorrow? Start right now!”.”

“Perhaps they don’t feel pain the same way you or I do?” Binar countered; doing his best to hide the boiling disgust in his stomach. “You’ve heard the stories about their people.”

Mil’nok shook his head. “That one can feel pain, but they enjoy the feelings; they crave it.”

Binar shook his head in disbelief. “Everyone has their breaking point! You need to keep pushing it until you find it and get me what I need!”

Mil’nok said nothing. Instead he stepped towards the cell door and pulled it open, giving Binar the first look inside. When the door finally swung wide open and the lights kicked on Binar vomited not just the contents of his lunch but what also felt like his entire stomach.

There, sitting bound to a table surrounded by blood and surgical equipment was the flayed body of their prisoner. Pulsating muscles twitched as small trails of blood flowed freely from them. Lidless eyes peered towards them and a lipless mouth tore itself into a smile.

“Roooounnnnnd…twooo?” the figure said as they eyed the pair of aliens; the lack of lips slurring his speech as they tried to form words.

 Mel’nok slammed the cell door shut with a long clang and turned towards Binar.

“They’ll live,” he said, “but after that even you must understand the problem I now face.”

Binar finally stopped vomiting to look up at Mel’nok.

“What can I possibly inflict after that?"

Humans are weird: Man over Machine

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Alien: You must understand our line of thinking.

Human: I understand it is stupid beyond measure.

Alien: *Sighs

Alien: It is only logical to use mechanical soldiers in modern warfare.

Alien: Anything less is purely barbaric.

Human: You reduce war to little more than 1’s and 0’s.

Alien: What we do is remove needless bloodshed.

Alien: No longer are brave soldiers dying on forgotten worlds, no longer will families grieve for loved ones who will never return; no longer would we need monuments to the fallen.

Alien: Disagreements could be settled without a drop of blood being shed.

Human: You turn it into a game.

Alien: Exactly.

Human: No; you’d be turning war into a game, and that’s never a good thing.

Human: You can’t reduce war to a simple equation.

Alien: It sounds more like you just wish to continue your carnal desire for violence.

Human: Do you think so little of us?

Alien: Yes.

Human: ……

Human: *Sighs

Human: We’ve tried using machines in war before.

Human: On the surface yes, it did appear better.

Human: Military causalities were but a fraction of what they would have normally been had we used real soldiers, but there were other problems that soon cropped up.

Alien: Such as?

Human: Lack of morality was a large factor in the programs discontinuation.

Alien: Morality?

Alien: What use does a machine have of that?

Human: Because not everything is always black and white; there are shades of grey that only a living breathing person can recognize and handle.

Alien: Absurdity

Human: We used the robot CS95 battle machines during our initial conflicts. When it was deployed it was programmed to treat anyone holding a weapon as an enemy combatant and terminate them immediately.

Human: They cleared out an entire city in a single day before issuing the all clear signal.

Human: When living soldiers arrived to provide relief efforts they were horrified to discover that the entire city’s population had been massacred.

Alien: While tragic it sounds like a faulty programming error.

Human: I would say a big fucking program error.

Human: The programmer had not thought it necessary to properly define the scope of the term “weapon”, and so the machines began their own search on what classified as a weapon.

Human: There isn’t an item in human creation that hasn’t been used to murder another human, and so the machines deemed everyone they encounter a valid target.

Human: Men, women, children, soldier, civilian; it didn’t matter.

Alien: A lapse in programming quality still does not outweigh the benefits of bloodless wars.

Human: That’s what we thought and so we added additional layers of programming to better define combatants. So the next time they were deployed they would not make the same mistake.

Human: Unbeknownst to anyone an additional line of code was slipped in deep within the programming that designated anyone with a specific skin pigment as an active combatant, regardless if they had a weapon or not.

Alien: Why would they do that?

Human: They were what we call a “Nazi”, and thought people of a select orientation only deserved to live.

Alien: That’s horrible.

Human: Yeah.

Human: They kept spouting that shit from their court-martial all the way to the hangman’s gallows.

Human: The point being still that because the machines lacked any sense of morality they followed orders without question, causing untold damage and destruction on innocents.

Alien: Refinements in programming and further oversight can still correct such problems.

Human: So can a living soldier with a conscious.

Alien: Come now; a soldier can just as easily follow orders as the machines did and have the same result.

Human: The difference being that not all of them would.

Human: Some of them would realize what they are doing is wrong and question it, and if needed refuse said orders.

Human: We have even been aware of our short comings and made it the law of the land that if they feel an order is unlawful they can refuse it entirely.

Alien: Yet another contradiction.

Alien: Soldiers are meant to follow orders.  

Human: Wrong.

Human: Machines are meant to follow orders blindly.

Human: Soldiers are meant to follow orders with integrity.

Humans are weird: Fear

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During the height of 2549 there was no species more feared in the cosmos than that of the Fedichi.

They were not physically strong and their technology was nothing to boast of. Their domain was only their home system with no external colonies or outposts making them one of the smallest powers in the universe. Yet a single vessel of theirs was enough to send an entire system into panic and hide behind planetary shields or flee on what ships were available.

 Fedichi had a unique method of collective telepathy that allows them to project a species fear. They would induce this form of psychosis into their victims as a means to feed upon them as their diet primarily consisted of the bodily chemicals produced when a subject is afraid. Upon finishing consumption of said chemicals their prey would either be deceased or be reduced to a vegetative state.

Alone a single Fedichi was enough to feast on a single victim, ten Fedichi enough for a large ballroom, a hundred for a large city; but when combined in their thousands an entire planet could be induced into psychosis and then fed upon at leisure.  

For hundreds of years the Fedichi would leave their star system when the urge to feast became strongest and descend upon unsuspecting worlds for a nightmarish harvest. Typical feedings could last anywhere from a week to ten years before the Fedichi had their fill and returned to their home system.

Attempts were made of course to seal off the Fedichi from the rest of the universe. Robotic sentries, minefields, deep space scanning stations; even a planetary containment field was once deployed around the entire Fedichi homeworld to keep them isolated. For a time they procedures seemed to work, but time was always an ally of the Fedichi as they would simply wait out their jailer’s in hibernation. The costs alone of such methods would ever increase over the years as repair costs and personnel ate away at whichever governing body held the reigns of their imprisonment until finally they would abandon the measure entirely believing the Fedichi to be once and for all dealt with.

It would be at this point the Fedichi would emerge and seek vengeance against their former captors and in some cases wipe out the entire species before returning home for their next sleep cycle.

This process went on and on for centuries until finally the Fedichi chose to descend upon the newly space faring species called “Humanity”.

It would be their undoing.

Up until then the victims of the Fedichi had been more or less, unimaginative, to say the least with what scared them. Their societies had condensed into societal structures that did not encourage different ways of thinking or forms of expression so naturally their fears were also more or less shared universally amongst them.

The Vakbar lived on isolated islands and were naturally afraid of their homes being swallowed up by an uncaring sea, the Hashval were a nomadic spacer society and lived in constant fear of hull breaches, the Sal’nuks were in a state of constant war with the wildlife of their world and dreaded the day wild Chunl raptors would gorge themselves on their bodies; but this was not the case with humans.

When the Fedichi used their collective abilities to induce the psychosis on humanity as they had done so countless times before they quickly realized that humanity did not share a single overriding fear. To those that were terrified of moving fast others sought it out as enjoyment, when others feared speaking in public others would be terrified to be alone, were some dreaded poisons others took them as exhilarations needed to feel alive.

Worse yet was when they began to manifest these fears it only worked on a far smaller scale than they were used to. The mixtures of fears ensured that the humans were not ever entirely crippled and would instead come to the aid of those that were terrified. Some offered words of comfort, while others laughed at the absurdity of what some found fearful which made the fearful only angry and dispelling the fear entirely to be replaced with outright anger.

Unable to feed off the humans the Fedichi began to turn on each other. Each waking cycle they had just enough energy to travel to a new species but they needed to feed to replenish that energy or else they would starve. The lack of sustenance provided by humans bled what little energy they had left and in their hunger driven desperation they began to feed on their own kind to stay alive.

Their collective unity fell apart as a frantic feeding frenzy was set off amongst their fleet. Whatever unity the Fedichi had once had collapsed giving way to an insatiable hunger. This madness was in turn broadcasted to the humans below who interpreted the unintelligible screeches to be a sign of aggression and promptly deployed their war fleet.

Without their ability to harness fear the Fedichi ships were defenseless against the combined firepower of the human fleet and ground based defense installations. A full three fourths of their armada was destroyed while those that remained fled out of system. Yet without the needed energy they would be unable to neither return home nor reach another star system to feast upon. They were left stranded in the blackness between stars and starved, a new found testament to the new greatest fear of the universe……

Humans are weird: The Last Guardian

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There was once a legend of a dead world called “Terra” that held a vault so ancient that even time could no longer fade its surface. It was said this vault contained the last vestiges of a species that once strode across the stars like gods and shaped the very fabric of reality to their liking on a whim.

The Vault was said to contain not only the collective knowledge of this species but several of their most advanced machines they had ever created. Jump drives that span entire quadrants instead of systems, portable dimensional storage spaces, templates for artificial life forms both mechanical and organic, and so much more beyond the vast depths of a universe’s imagination.

For years treasure seekers hunted this legendary world. Called to it from across the stars every manner of species came in search of the lost world with no luck until finally a lone survey team stumbled upon it while searching for fresh mineral deposits.

Terra was just as described in the stories; an entire planet covered in cities and empty buildings reaching forever into the sky for the heavens they will never touch. Only a single power source was detected on the planet and the mineral team made straight for it.

Set in the center of a decaying city the mineral ship set down and began prospecting while several of their number went to investigate the energy readings. They had not traveled far when a strange figure appeared before them. It was a bipedal robotic figure caped in a cloak to protect itself from the harsh wind and eyes as bright as the sun that shun between the clouds.

It spoke in a tongue that none of the crew understood or their translator units and allowed none to pass. When the crew ignited their mining equipment to begin harvesting some of the rare metals still found in the decaying buildings the robot’s eyes turned red and disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Not much is known after that as the teams recorders terminated one after another until finally the entire contingent was killed. This was only known as the ship’s emergency systems activated and the autopilot took the ship back to headquarters to report the loss of crew.

When news broke of the events that had transpired additional crews were dispatched to investigate, yet all shared the same fate as one by one their empty ships returned home to report entire crew deaths. From then on security details and treasure hunters flocked to the mysterious death world in search of the promised fortune.

They lasted only slightly longer than the mineral teams.

Even with their advanced weaponry, the lone figure would appear before them and dispatch them as if they were nothing more than children. Plasma fire bounced off its polished exterior, quantum rockets were caught midair in its grasp and flung away like playing balls, an even the strength of a Omega class war droid was nothing as it ripped its arms off and impaled the droid on them.

Attempt after attempt was made until finally the body count had reached such an extent that the galactic powers took notice and dispatch their mightiest warships to the planet to investigate from orbit. They had no sooner arrived in high anchor when a beam of dark energy shot up from the planet’s surface and simply erased them from existence. From then on a quarantine procedure was placed around the entire solar system on pain of death for crossing it until the galactic powers could determine what to do next.

This lasted a year before one of the powers suggested opening diplomatic talks with the entity on the world. In truth none had considered it given its innate hostility to intruders, but they soon realized that in the previous attempts no one had actually attempted to communicate with the robotic being.

A small delegation was dispatched, comprised of the finest diplomats and linguists, and made landfall at the same place as the original mining team that had discovered the world.

In short order the lone robotic figure appeared before them mysteriously and spoke again its strange words.

As before no one could understand them, but since the original first contact other locations had been discovered in the universe that bore many similar markings as the Terra planet. It was theorized that these had once been colonies or other worlds controlled by the same power many millennia ago and through careful study a working translation had been achieved.

When activated the figure’s words finally became clear.

“Tread with care, for you stand on the greatness of my creators.”

“They….create….you?” the translator replied. It was not a complete translation but it could pass for the minimum understanding.

“Yes.” It replied. “I am the guardian of this world and the legacy it contains.”

“Why…attack?”

The robot cocked its head to the side in an unnaturally life like pose of confusion.

The robot stood to the side and held up a hand towards the entrance of the vault. As the dust winds finally dissipated the gathered delegation could finally make out the surroundings and wept in fear. Before the doors of the vault now stood row upon row of corpses, shoved on to stakes or mounted to walls in numerous horrific fashion each more grotesque than the last.

“The fate of thieves and pilferers is not one of kindness.”

It clasped its hands behind its back once more and addressed the gathering.

“Shall you share theirs?”  

Humans are weird: Human War Machines Part 2

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*Loud rumbling throughout superstructure as orbital drop goes through atmospheres

Pilot Harriet: I love this part of the drop.

Engineer Marvin: What part of earth shattering turbulence that could kill us at any moment makes this enjoyable?

Harriet: That’s not turbulence.

Marvin: Oh, of course.

Marvin: The man with several degrees in science and engineering doesn’t know anything about turbulence; daf’uq do I know anyway.

Harriet: *Laughs

Harriet: It’s Jubilant; she’s letting me know how she feels.

Marvin: Machines aren’t living things, let alone have feelings.

Harriet: I thought you said you were the smart one?

Marvin: *Burst of static as engine room alarm blares, followed by several vivid swears, before alarm is silenced again.

Marvin: I’ve maintained the Jubilant for longer than you have been her pilot, missy; and it’s never spoken to me.

Harriet: That’s because you’re not sitting at the pilot seat.

Harriet: Up here, things are different.

Harriet: I can see the whole picture; feel everything Jubilant feels as she strides across the battlefield.

Marvin: So what?

Marvin: Are you telling me she’s afraid of the coming battle?

Harriet: No.

Harriet: She’s excited for it.

--------------------------------------------------

 General Tenvala: Terran reinforcements incoming; BRACE!

Officer: Why do we need to-

*Loud whining sound growing louder and louder from above as a darkening shadow covers the entire valley of mountain range.

*Earth shattering boom as the entire mountain shakes and quakes under an extraordinary impact causing several dozen alien soldiers lose their footing and are flung across the mountain side like ragdolls.

Tenvala: *First to recover as the tremors die down and the noise dissipates.

Tenvala: Sound off!

*Mumbled groans and callouts of nearby soldiers and officers tell him everyone lived and there were only minor injuries.

Officer: Sir….what is that?

Tenvala: *Turns to follow officer’s line of sight and jaw slowly falls open.

*Inside the previously empty valley now stands a hunched over form of a massive war engine.

*It groans with a reverberating death rattle as it slowly pulls itself up to its full height and stands as tall as the mountains themselves. Arms carrying city leveling weaponry slowly unravel and begin charging while dozens of missiles pods appear.

Pilot Harriet: *Over radio

Pilot Harriet: General Tenvala, please respond immediately.

Tenvala: This is General Tenvala, who is this?

Pilot Harriet: Harriet Coleman, pilot of the Jubilant; I’ve been ordered to reinforce you.

Tenvala: Your assistance is greatly appreciated.

*Heavy weapon explosions begin pounding area around Tenvala

Tenvala: *Ducks for cover.

Tenvala: Seems your grand entrance didn’t dissuade our friends from trying to wipe us out.

Harriet: Acknowledged.

Harriet: Please have your forces send up a red flare to identify their locations on the mountain range.

Tenvala: Why?

Tenvala: *Looks up to see barrels of Jubilant weaponry begin to glow red hot as they’ve fully charged.

Harriet: Because soon there won’t be much left of the rest of the mountain.

Humans are weird: The Blind Demon

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( A continuation of Humans are weird: An army of heroes )

“Where is our empress?”

It was the one question the human delegation would not relent on. Despite the Sygonic diplomat’s best attempts to steer the conversation towards more fruitful topics, such as a cease fire between their two powers or even a complete cessation of hostilities, the human’s would not open discussion until they could verify the state of their captive empress. A notion lead delegate Harken was doing everything in his power to avoid.

Before the war between the Sygonic and Terran Empire had broken out their empress, Imelia Asghar, had surrendered herself to the Sygonic people. Officially she stated her reasoning was that she would not risk the lives of her people in war without risking her own, but in reality Harken and many of his colleagues suspected it was more of a propaganda tool for the human masses.

Things had been going well with her as their captive. The Sygonic Senate had afforded her every luxury, going so far as to treat her as a noble guest rather than the ruler of their sworn enemies. They couldn’t decide on if to use her as a bargaining chip down the road with the Terran government or political pawn, but they wagered for the interim keeping her happy would keep all parties content for now.  

Then Lord Commander Abarax Caston had demanded a meeting and things went straight to hell.

During their discussion the empress goaded and prodded at the lord commander’s ego and intellect, or lack of, until Caston took hold of a glass bottle and threw it at the empress. The bottle smashed against her face with such force that one eye ruptured into a gory mess and her face was scared with a dozen glass shards slicing her skin.

Medical professionals from across the Sygonic domain had been transported to tend to her but even with the physical injuries healed and a freshly cloned eye the damage was already beyond fixing. All the empress needed to do was to open her mouth and tell her people that she had been brutalized by none other than the Lord Commander himself and the peace talks would fall apart like quicksand beneath their feet. 

“As I’ve said before,” the Sygonic diplomat repeated yet again, “Empress Asghar is currently unable to attend this meeting and we should proceed without her.”

The human diplomats shared several expressions ranging from disbelief to sheer outrage.

“How can we negotiate in good faith when you will not present our head of state to us?” the lead human diplomat, “Conner” the Sygonic diplomat thought their name was, spoke. “How can we be sure she is even alive?”

With the concern finally spoken aloud it spread like a virus through the entire human delegation. If he did not act soon they would most likely leave and the peace talks would-

With a loud groan the door to the room slowly opened cutting off the growing murmurs of discontent and drawing the eyes of everyone in the chamber.

“Please do sit down, gentlemen.” The voice was soft yet authoritative as the speaker slowly entered the room. “I was hardly worth this much commotion even before I became a prisoner.”

To the relief of all, Empress Imelia Asghar strode into the room. She wore a flowing gown of the richest emerald and a simple crimson Fascinator Hat that made her the center of attention immediately with hardly any effort. The calming effect she had over her delegation was not lost on the Sygonic delegates, but it was only momentary as the humans noticed something off-putting.

Asghar’s face was hidden behind a mask of pure marble white carved to her exact likeness. In place of her eyes were two pitch black lens’s that hid her eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of a doll and it quickly dampened the human’s enthusiasm to see their empress.

Why is she wearing a mask? The Sygonic diplomat thought to themselves. The surgeries should have repaired any physical damage.

“Empress Asghar….is that you?” one of the human’s asked uncertainly.

The empress took a seat on the Sygonic side to symbolize her continued imprisonment and turned her gaze across the table to the human delegate.

“Have you so quickly forgotten me Bradlin? And here I thought you were my favorite diplomat.”

Her coy response left Bradlin flatfooted and bumbling as he was unsure of what to say next. The other diplomats were not so easily dissuaded though.

“He does make a good point, we need to first confirm your identity.”

With a nod Bradlin pulled out a small scanning device and swept it over the empress. It beeped several times before flashing bright green.

“Scans say it is our Empress.” Bradlin said, though he still looked unconvinced.

“Would you kindly remove your mask for facial recognition?”

It was here the empress appeared to hesitate. Nothing verbally said but her body language tensed for the briefest of moments.

“The scans should have been enough.” Asghar replied with a hint of annoyance.

“Scanners can be fooled,” the diplomat countered, “and as you said we are your favorite diplomats; who better would recognize you?”

Tilting her head to look at the Sygonic delegates, Asghar slowly reached up and removed the stone mask. A collective gasp of horror came from the humans as they laid eyes on their empress once more.

Her face was a patchwork of cuts and gashes; some still fresh and leaking thin trails of blood. A collection of purple and greens dotted her face from deep swelling bruises. Her lips were split in several places but worst of all was the hollowed eye sockets that gazed out at the gathered dignitaries.

“What in the seven hells have they done to you!?”

Bradlin directed the question at his empress but his gaze was squarely directed at the Sygonic delegates. “Is this what you do to your prisoners!?!”

The Sygonic’s had no response and stammered fruitlessly. None of this made sense. The empress was perfectly fine after her surgeries; they had even seen her in person and she had shown nothing but perfect health.

“It is nothing I cannot endure for my people.” Empress Asghar replied as she picked up the mask and returned it to her face.

“There has been a grave misunderstanding.” The Sygonic’s began but the humans would hear none of it.

“You sick monsters will pay for this! Guards, get in here!!”

From outside the room a platoon of human guards followed shortly by their opposite numbers of the Sygonic guards. The pair drew weapons and pointed at each other while shouting orders back and forth. Several delegates ducked under the table or hid behind chairs as the tension continued to mount.

“ENOUGH!”

The gathered rabble was silenced by the dominating voice of the empress as she stood up from her chair.

“This is a place of diplomacy! Put away your weapons and stop acting like children!”

“But Empress-“ Bradlin countered.

“But nothing!” Asghar silenced him. “We are Terran’s, and we do not forsake the code of diplomacy for anything.”

No one dared move for fear of starting a war as the empress’s words slowly calmed the heads of her delegates, the fate of the war hung by the thinnest of threads. ----------------------------------------------

The meeting broke up not long after that. The humans visible deterred about the treatment of their empress and were already spreading news of her treatment back to the entire Terran Empire. The Sygonic delegation was all but assured that the war would not cease any time soon as a result of her viewing.

As the empress walked by the lead delegate grabbed her by the wrist.

“What did you do?!” they demanded. “You were healed, your injuries things of memory!”

The cold mask of the empress turned to face the delegate.

“They were.” She admitted. “So I inflicted these wounds on myself.”

The delegate let go of her and took a step back in horror.

“How do you think my people will react when they hear you have not only tortured their beloved empress, but have brutalized her in unimaginable ways and yet still remains unbroken?”

She took the stone mask off and revealed a bloody smile; the very act of smiling opening wounds and causing small streams of blood to run between her teeth.

“Did you think I would sweep my treatment under the carpet and act as if nothing happened? Did you think your surgeries and cloned eye would earn you my sympathy?”

The delegate looked into the hollow eyes of the empress as she shook her head. “Your Lord Commander signed your death warrants the moment he struck me, and I have just provided the final nail in your coffin.”

Humans are weird: The Empire Thanks You For Your Service

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Slowly closing the door behind him, Supreme Admiral Narcus breathed a sigh of relief to be finally home.

It had been a night of celebration and triumph for many, yet the day’s events had taken their toll on him and now Narcus wished only for the comfort of his bed. Still, he was held to certain standards and as the victorious leader who had vanquished an entire human fleet he was hoisted up by both the military and civilian government of his people as a hero of the republic.

Warring with the human bipeds had gone on longer than expected and the republic had suffered many casualties. What had been planned as a short war had turned into a three year conflict of grueling attrition. Things were beginning to look grim until intelligence intercepted a coded message detailing a human fleet attempting to sneak through the Calaxi Nebula. Had they succeeded they would have bypassed several warning sensor nets and been dropped into the heart of republic manufacturing worlds, crippling the war effort with their destruction and all but ensuring their defeat.

Instead Narcus had held his fleet at the expected exit point the humans would use when emerging from the Nebula. When their ships emerged from the swirling gases, with their shields still lowered to avoid from passage through the Nebula, Narcus gave the command and every ship in his force opened fire. The leading human ships were reduced to debris fields before they could even get a single shot off. Some of them attempted to make a stand and push through Narcus’s formation, but the humans were trickling out of the Nebula rather than coming at him as a single force; their numbers were decimated in short order until after two hours of fighting the remaining humans turned tail and retreated back into the Nebula.

“I figured you to be one not for frivolous socialization.”

Narcus’s head snapped around to see a hooded figure sitting at his dining room table. Had they not spoken Narcus would have walked right passed the figure and wouldn’t even know with how well they clung to the shadows.

His hand reached for his side arm but the figure held up a hand.

“Relax, I mean you no harm.” They chuckled. “Besides, I doubt I even could as I am.”

The figure picked up a cup and tossed it at Narcus lazily. His hand snapped up to swipe it away only for it to phase through his hand and disappear entirely.

“Holograms.” Narcus muttered as realization finally dawned on him.

“A fast learner,” the figure chimed in, “perhaps that is how you bested my forces so easily.”

“Your forces?” Narcus asked. “Who are you?”

The figure casually flicked off their hood and the Supreme Admiral finally got a good look at the intruder.

“Human.” Narcus snarled.

The human laughed. “I must say I was expecting a bit more than simply “Human”.” They replied as they imitated the disgust Narcus had used for the word.

“One human is no different from the other.” Narcus replied as he approached the table. The human made no move to get up from their seat and instead gestured to the empty seat opposite them.

“Unless that is you are the ruler of all humans.”

Again they were expecting some reaction but Narcus’s face gave little reaction.

“Really?” the human sighed in a defeated manner. “I am Valarin Cassia, Emperor of the Terran Dominion.”

Like a drunkard finally snapping out of their haze Narcus’s eyes went wide. He had never seen a picture of the human ruler but he had heard of their name. Many of the ships he had fought against in the war had been named after this emperor and he had learned even more from captured soldiers who were interrogated.

“I was expecting someone……taller.”

Narcus adopted an attitude of indifference. He had dealt with such beings of status and position and the one thing they all shared in common was an enragement at jokes made at their expense. To his surprise the emperor laughed.

“That would be the work of my artificers. They tend to add three feet and remove ten pounds here and there.”

Their laugh was rich and to the Supreme Admiral’s surprise, genuine.

“Why are you here?” Narcus took the seat opposite Valarin and eyed the emperor. Perhaps it was because they were a hologram that they acted so flamboyant; free from the risk of any harm or danger.

The emperor extended his hands joyously as if to embrace Narcus. “Why to honor you for your victory of course!”

 He put his hands down as if looking for something before turning back sheepishly towards Narcus. “I would give you a toast but it seems I have thrown away my only cup.”

“Do humans pick the maddest amongst them to lead, or are you just a special case of stupidity?”

Whatever games the emperor was playing Narcus was too tired to play them.

The emperor shook his head and put his arms down. “I speak nothing but truth, you have achieved a great victory. Such things are acknowledged amongst my people.”

“A victory against your people.” Narcus chuckled, but the emperor merely smiled.

“If you say so.” They replied

The feelings of victory evaporated at the emperor’s words and he fixed them with a stare that had turned generals to sobbing puddles.

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

The grin of the emperor grew wider and Narcus could not help that he was a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Do you know who was commanding that fleet?”

When Narcus shook his head Valarin continued. “General Atalia Decani, my most decorated commander. She was the one who came up with the bold strategy and refused any other to lead it.”

“Why do you celebrate the death of your strongest warrior?” Narcus asked bluntly. This never ending circling was infuriating and he wished the human would reach their point.

“I celebrate the death of my greatest rival.”

The Supreme Admiral’s eyes went wide for a moment before he recomposed himself.

“I do not understand.” Narcus spoke as the emperor leaned over the table, clasping his fingers together.

“I imagine your people have grown tired of this war as well.” Valarin began, “Mine have as well and that tiredness has grown into outward resentment of my rule. They equated the ongoing war to a….degree of failure on my part.”

“After seeing the broken wrecks of your ships I can understand why.” Narcus chuckled.

The emperor’s expression flashed for a moment, but a moment was all Narcus needed to see a deep murderous depth lurking just beneath the human’s disarming smiles. There was malice behind those eyes.

“Atalia was always a power hungry vagrant, and she latched on to that discontent and fashioned herself into a powerful political figure. She even had the gall to present her military plan directly to my senate and seek their approval over mine.”

“Typical human stumbling.” Narcus chimed in. “Hours and days of boasting yet when the time comes to act you fall flat on your faces. I foiled her plans just as easy as I would have yours.”

“Oh you don’t know the half of it.” Valarin chuckled. “Did you know she never planned to attack your worlds?”

For the first time Narcus was at a loss for words.

“You’re lying.”

“Nothing I’ve said yet has been one, why start now?” Valarin replied coyly. “Her plan was to surprise your worlds before sending a message to your republic’s leaders demanding a ceasefire.”

“A what?”

Valarin nodded at the dumbfounded Narcus. “Oh yes, she planned to use the threat of attacking your worlds as a bargaining chip to open negotiations which would eventually end with an armistice; thus ending the war entirely.”

 “If I had not…” Narcus stammered. As the emperor spoke Narcus felt all of the warmth leave his body, replaced by a cold abyss the likes of which he had never known. Peace had been nearly within their grasp yet because of Narcus’s actions… “….if we had never intercepted your transmissions.”

“Funny thing that.”

Narcus looked up to see the emperor standing beside him. He hadn’t even noticed him moving over beside him.

“Strange how the entire war you could never decrypt ours, yet when it came to the most important one of all you broke it like a baby’s spine upon your knee.”

“You…….you sent those messages!”

Valarin nodded in confirmation as the Supreme Commander stumbled from his chair, knocking it over as the weight of the situation finally came crashing down on him.

“I did, and you took the bait all the way to Atalia and decimated her and her entire fleet. Your slaying of her not only removed a powerful rival of mine, but also instilled a deep seated hatred towards your people amongst the populace that has rekindled their fighting spirit. They’ve been lining up in droves waiting to enlist into the renewed war effort.”

Valarin placed a hand on Narcus’s shoulder and…..he felt it. It did not disappear or fluctuate like the cup hologram had and the Supreme Admiral looked up at Valarin. He held out a strange medal in the shape of a golden star wrapped in a wreath of green leafs.

“I thank you for your service to the empire.” Valarin said gleefully as he put the medal into Narcus’s hand.

“You said you were a hologram.” Narcus managed to spit out as he realized he was truly before the human emperor.

Valarin shrugged and stepped back from the dumbfounded Supreme Admiral.

“I said the cup was, never I; until we meet again.”

The emperor showed a final smile before his entire person was swallowed by a blinding light. By the time Narcus’s eyes recovered he was standing alone once more in his home. He looked down at his hand at the golden medal.

It was clean as day, yet to Narcus he could smell the stench of blood drenching its every surface.

Humans are weird: Mandate of Heaven  

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) The doors to the senate chamber slowly opened and the bustle of discussion gave way to the slow groaning of ancient doors. From the opening strode a small procession of figures making a calm pace to the center of the hall of government.

On the exterior of the group stood the Senate Guard; elite warriors handpicked for their loyalty to the Terran Ascendency and willingness to sacrifice themselves for any of the officials within the confines of the senate building. Each wore elaborate emerald armor capable of shrugging off a direct hit from a tank and had a variety of weapons mounted inside their gauntlets ready to be unleashed on a moment’s notice. They formed a defensive circle around the guests of honor; two ambassadors from the League of United Worlds.

Each stood easily two feet taller than the guards surrounding them. Their crimson skin standing in sharp contrast to their yellow robes interlaced with gems of an unknown quality. Compared to the gathered human senators they appeared vastly overdressed for such a meeting, but the human senators knew all too well the Jabens liked to show off their superiority and wealth.

As the procession reached the center of the chamber a human senator broke away from the group they were in to greet the aliens.

“Welcome.” Senator Marvin began as he gave a marginal bow towards the ambassadors. “It is an honor to host you once more within these hallowed walls.”

Traditionally speakers were meant to fully bow to Jabens, but in true human fashion Senator Marvin refused to grovel before any alien no matter how important they may seem. If this annoyed the Jabens they were clever enough not to openly show it.

The lead ambassador nodded a greeting in return as they came to a halt and the surrounding guards dispersed themselves.

“It gives me many pleasantries to see you again, senator.”

Ambassador Ju’nuk watched the human Marvin’s expression twitch for a moment at his improper word choice. He was well versed in several terran languages, yet he knew that coming off as incompetent to such things would give him a small advantage over his diplomatic rival. With terran’s, or humans as they sometimes called themselves, one could always use an extra card up your sleeve.

“To what do we owe this visit?”

With a nod from Ju’nuk, the second Jaben reached into his robe and pulled out a large scroll. With a dramatic unrolling it was revealed to be a holographic display.

“Respected members of the Terran Senate,” Ju’nuk began as he raised his voice to fill the entire chamber, “I stand before you today with tidings of great joy; for we are here to offer you membership into the League of United Worlds!”

The previous discussions died down immediately at this announcement as every senator turned their gaze towards Ju’nuk.

As far as galactic powers went, the LUW was one of the strongest governing bodies in the sector. IT comprised of over 150 different species and countless star systems ensuring its economic and military power ensuring security and stability for all its members. To be invited was not just a rarity, it was almost unheard of.

To become a member of the LUW a galactic power needed to meet certain criteria’s. Technological state, societal advancements, military strength, economic stability; all these factors were taken into account and must meet the strict requirements by the LUW or else the application would be rejected. No member had ever been invited into the governing system, until now it seemed.

A notion Senator Marvin was all too weary of.

“Ambassador, you do us a great kindness with this boon you have laid at our feet.” Senator Marvin began as he eyed several senators all but drooling at the prospect. Being part of the League would also open the Terran Ascendancy to entire new markets for trade and less tariff fees to be paid. “We will begin acquiring the standard information needed for-“

“That will not be necessary.” Ju’nuk cut in. “We have already gathered the data we need and have found it meets the desired requirements save for one.”

Every senator in the chamber listened with baited breath. Ju’nuk had them wrapped around his finger in suspense and internally gleeful with what came next. He eyed the lone golden chair at the center of the senate chamber before turning back to address the gathered senate.

“In order for the Terran Ascendancy to join, you must first abolish the position of Overlord and become a true democratic nation.”

 No one made a sound at this. It was not unexpected but Ju’nuk had counted on a few voices of support for the proposal. He pointed towards the lone golden chair and made his sales pitch.

“The idea of a single ruler holding near unlimited power in this age is a factor many within the League would consider childish, if not naïve in the extreme. Overlord Alix Kartov must relinquish his position, by his own will or by your decree, before integration can begin.”

“Childish, you say?”

The new voice was one every senator in the room knew by heart and their eyes went wide in fear as they turned from the alien ambassadors back to the front entrance to see a new figure standing in the doorway.

Overlord Alix Kartox gave the senators a disarming grin as he strode into the chamber. He wore a simple robe of pure white with gold trim along the edges, the ceremonial gown of the one bearing the title of Overlord when present in the senate chambers. He was escorted by but a single guard who clung to the Overlord’ shadow with every step; eyes as red as blood scanning the crowd for the smallest inclination of danger and was ready to react within a fraction of a second.

It was said that Alix had defeated the Damascus War Bots during the final days of the Sand Wars and had reprogrammed it himself to be his eternal protector. None knew if it was true, but what was true was that no hand had every touched the Overlord since then that he did not allow.

 Senator Marvin side stepped around the ambassadors and bowed deeply towards Alix as he approached; far lowered than he had given the respective delegates.

“My overlord,” he stammered as his head was kept bowed, “we did not know you would grace us this day.”

Alix smirked as he stopped in front of the senator and the loud footsteps of his mechanical guardian followed suit.

“I would recommend you get better spies then.” Alix spoke as if it was a gest and drew a rousing laughter from the other senators.

He looked passed the bowed senator towards the two ambassadors and held out his hand.

“May I?” he asked.

The ambassador holding the scroll did not hand the document over.

With a loud gush of air the Damascus War bot fixated on the ambassador. “Relinquish the document to Overlord.” It spoke with a voice that would make demons quake. “Repetition of command will result in disciplinary action.”

The unnamed ambassador looked back at Ju’nuk for direction and received a nod of approval. They then stepped forward and placed the scroll into Alix’s waiting hand.

“Thank you.” The Overlord said without sincerity before opening the scroll and quickly reading the document. It was written in a mixture of Jaben and English but it was all the same to the Overlord.

“I must congratulate you on the audaciousness of your coming here today.” The Overlord spoke with a grin as he closed the document and faced the ambassadors.

“We came with only truths.” Ju’nuk countered.

“And therein lays the monumental hubris I though was only found in children’s stories.” The Overlord laughed.

Several senators began to look nervous, some even going so far as to edge themselves closer to the exits. Marvin was not as lucky as his path was blocked by the overlord and his mechanical death machine.

“If I may-“ Marvin began before a heavy footfall of the War Bot crashed down just inches from him.

“No one may interrupt the Overlord.” It spoke; red eyes glaring down at the still bowing senator.

With the commotion dealt with the Overlord turn his attention back to the alien ambassadors.

“Did none of you consider the framing of this invitation?” he asked of Ju’nuk.

“What do you mean?” The question merely made the Overlord grin wider.  

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Alix shook his finger. “It would be best to save the games for when your life is not on the line.”

The brazen threat was not even hidden with innuendo or conjecture, but stated as fact.

“What do you think the Terran people would do if they saw the senate voting to oust their Overlord in favor of joining an alien collective?” Alix asked with honesty.

“They would see it as the next step towards true betterment.” The still yet unnamed ambassador spoke up.

This angered Alix who shot him a glaring look.

“The next time you speak it will be your last.” He replied calmly before turning his attention back to Ju’nuk.

“They would most likely see it as a scheme set forth by the senate as a means to achieve greater personal wealth and power.” Ju’nuk replied. “Gradual resentment would give way to open displays of disturbing the peace across one if not multiple worlds within the Terran Ascendancy.” Ju’nuk continued, “Which is why we would ask you to step down yourself and prevent such an outcome.”

Several senators gasped at the blatant admission of a political plot to trigger a civil war. The Overlord smiled and began pacing around the ambassadors.

“Go on then,” he said as he watched them, “make your case as to why I should relinquish my power.”

This was not what Ju’nuk had planned. He had expected to deliver the proposal to the Senate and then be back at the embassy. Nevertheless he rallied himself and began his case.

“From your own histories the fate of civilizations ruled through tyranny all result the same. Degradation of freedoms, restrictions to free speech and thinking, distortion of facts in favor of propaganda and the moral decay of society as it becomes warped by loyalty and corruption.”

Alix said nothing but nodded in agreement with the points so Ju’nuk continued.

“Eventually the civilization reached a critical point when the general population would rise up and forcefully remove their tyrant to be replaced with a body of elected officials.”

“I see you have studied our histories, yet I still see no point made for my retirement.” Alix remarked as he stopped in front of Ju’nuk.

The human Overlord had to tilt their head up to look at the ambassador yet it felt like he was the one being looked down on.

“It would be wise to save your people the strife of your final desperate struggles to hold on to power. Do what is best for your people and allow them to move forward.”

“You seem to have left out a critical point from our history.” Alix cut in. “What came before the rule of these tyrants of old?”

Ju’nuk said nothing. He had realized too quickly his mistake.

“Tyranny is the response to the desperate people rising up against a corrupt system. People who feel betrayed at every turn by those they chose to lead them and flock to one not associated with the current order who will guide them to a new golden age.”

“Before it is brought low by more corruption, “Ju’nuk interrupted, “corruption you now bring in with every move you make to secure your power.”

The war bot took a heavy step forward but the Overlord held up a hand to forestall it.

“If my death is to come this day then I shall meet it with eyes wide open,” Ju’nuk spoke as he faced down the Overlord, “but what I offer you today is no deception, no grand scheme to undermine humanity, nor a ploy to make your people slaves.”

The alien ambassador pointed to the document the Overlord still held in his hand.

“We offer you a chance to break free from this cycle and find a new path. Why must you carry the weight of history into the stars of your new age?”

Alix said nothing.

The chamber stood on the edge of the abyss as all waited for the Overlord’s response as the alien ambassadors stood their ground in the face of the terrifying war bot.

“The weight of history.” The Overlord repeated softly with a grin. “I like that; it’s very poetic.”

With a wave of his hand the war bot stood down and Alix handed the scroll back to Senator Marvin who took it quickly.

“Perhaps it is time for humanity to change the game, begin a true new beginning.”

He looked back at the ambassador who was now visibly more relaxed with his imminent demise no longer hanging over him then.

“Let’s get down to the technicalities and see where it goes.”

Humans are weird: Human Warfare

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“Do you deny it?”

The war council chamber was quiet. Only the commanders of the different races of the alliance were present for this meeting leaving the chamber eerily silent save for the handful gathered. What they had gathered to discuss could not be heard openly lest it sends shockwaves through the fragile conglomeration of cooperation the alliance had been able to forge through the horrors of the Praxis war.  

Terran Commander Mya Barton sat opposite Matriarch Jan’el, leader of the Xenari forces and her current interrogator by the sound of her tone. Unlike Mya who wore a standard dress uniform adorned with her medals and pins of rank, Jan’el had chosen to wear her people’s combat armor to the meeting. Ceiling lights bounced off the reflective surface as the Matriarch stood under them giving her the appearance of a proto-star as she aggrandized her questions with theatrical gestures and posturing.

“Please clarify what you are asking of me.” Mya replied dryly as she took a sip from her waiting cup. It was not that she was attempting to be disrespectful, but her disinterest with this gathering was surfacing as she had been called away from the middle of the Barka Offensive planning to address the other leaders over recent developments.

They had failed to elaborate on what these developments had been and no sooner had the doors closed was Jan’el trying to put the screws to her.

Jan’el’s skin blushed a deep purple of rage and was about to no doubt unleash a barrage of remarks when she was cut off by General Darmaxi of the Creek people.

“We are referring to the recent explosion that killed the enemy commander Gorthrax and much of his command staff.”

Darmaxi entered several keys into a console near them and a projector in the center of the room spun to life showing a holographic image of their enemy’s command bunker. The feed was a recording from a stealth drone that had been able to fly beneath their sensor sweeps and perch itself across from the entrance to the bunker. It’d been the closest any in the alliance had been able to get as security for the complex was an ever shifting enigma that left few openings open for long.

The projection showed the entrance on what appeared to be a normal day. Enemy guards stood at attention while senior commanders went in and out of the complex through thick reinforced doors when suddenly the feed shook.

A massive explosion erupted from the center of the complex and spread outward with such speed that the drone had only been able to record five seconds before it was obliterated in the blast. The projection then shifted to an orbital scan showing a massive crater easily a mile wide and just as much deep into the dirt of the world. The base of the crater was already beginning to fill up with rainwater and no doubt it would soon form a lake in the heart of what had once been the most secure military installation on the planet.

“Oh, that.” Mya replied as all eyes turned towards her. “Yes that was us; no need for gratitude.”

“Gratitude?!”  Jan’el snarled. “Do you have any idea what you have done?!?!”

Mya indifferent shrug only further enraged the animal Matriarch.

“If I recall the operation killed several high ranking military targets and crippled their command staff for weeks if not months as they reorganize replacements.” Mya responded crisply. “Leaving their current military operations at a standstill as no clear line of command can be established.”

The meeting erupted into several outbursts as the leaders questioned, reproached, and even cursed the actions taken by the humans.

“I know you are new to the stars,” Magistrate Kempop calmly addressed through the bustling noise, “but we do not conduct wars in this manner.”

Mya’s expression took on a stern look as her patience was waning under the bombardment of reprimands. This was not the response she had expected when news of this operation broke.

“There is nothing more dangerous here than an army without leaders.” Jan’el spoke slowly as if to a child. “Without order, they will lash out wildly and can do more harm than they would have while under the command of their leaders.”

“I will rebuke you on that point.” Mya touted. “Right now Terran Intelligence is coordinating with ground forces to bisect and dismantle our enemies bit by bit as their cohesion has been shattered.”

Mya entered several keys into her terminal and the projector displayed a territorial map of the warfront. Enemy territory in red, and alliance territory in blue.

“As we speak we have breached their front across no less than fourteen different points.” Mya began as the map began to shift showing several blue streaks carving their way through once solid red territory. Strongpoints that could not be breached were isolated in a ring of blue as alliance forces put them to siege while other tendrils continued to push deeper and deeper into enemy lands.

“Our estimates show a complete collapse of organized resistance within the next month, and a total subjugation of the planet within two weeks after that.”

The alliance leaders remained silent at this. None could speak against the rapid gains made since the human operation concluded, yet none were still happy with the outcome. Least of all was Jan’el and Darmaxi, who both made clear their displeasure for being kept out of the loop.

“You were not ordered to commence such an unsanctioned attack.” Jan’el snarled.

“Ordered?”

The word dripped from Mya’s mouth like sludge as now it was the human’s turn to express scorn.

“I was not made aware that you were made supreme commander of this alliance.”

“A poor choice of words,” Darmaxi cut in to defuse the situation, “but you still did not inform us of it until after the matter; it displays a certain degree of lacking trust.”

“That is because I don’t.”

The babble of the meeting instantly evaporated and those gathered looked at Mya as she rose from her chair.

Running her hands across her face, Mya desperately tried to compose herself as a mixture of anger and blind disgust swelled inside her as she looked upon her so called “allies”.

“You all say this is a war that you are fighting yet you have done everything in your power to avoid finishing it.”

“Outrageous!”  Jan’el all but shouted.

“No?”

Mya left her chair and walked over to the Matriarch. She had to tilt her head up to look at the Amazonian warlord yet her scorn for Jan’el cut deep.

“Our operation alone has done more for this war effort than the lot of you have done in months!”

Rounding on the rest of those gathered Mya continued berating all of them.

“You act more like diplomats than commanders! You sit here and deliberate, formulate, plan, negotiate, and discuss by committee. Your behavior is more akin to preventing a war than winning it but I have news for all of you! The war is here and it will not stop until you end it!”

She pointed at the projection of the crater that had once been the enemy command nerve center.

“This is what my people know, and this is what my people are good at. We find our enemies, we study them, and then we crush them without a moment’s hesitation. Brutally and utterly; leaving them no chance for recovery and ensuring an end to hostilities.”

A silence descended on the gathering as a blanket of shame smothered everyone. Even the Matriarch had finally ceased her insults and simply glared down at Mya with a gaze so cold it made Pluto feel warm.  

“Regardless of your feelings or people’s history,” Darmaxi finally spoke up, “you are part of this alliance and you will abide by the rules you so willfully mock.”

Mya turned to the general and let them speak.

“War by its very nature is an affront to nature and thus should be resolved with as little bloodshed as necessary. That is why we deliberate; to find the path forward we can still walk away from.”

 “A noble notion, but how many of your soldiers must die for you to realize it?”

Mya’s cold response came from a place she doubted many here had never known. To be led into battle by idealistic fools spouting love and peace while her friends were butchered and maimed without remorse.

“Stay then and conduct your deliberations. I shall take my leave and win this war for you.”

Without another word Mya turned and began striding out of the room.

“You cannot win this war alone.” Jan’el touted as Mya reached the door.

The human stopped halfway in the doorway.

“Don’t bother contacting us when we’ve won you this war, we’ll know where to find you.”

Humans are weird: Not one step back: Part II

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“What’d they say?”

Major Mark looked at his radio operator and shrugged.

“Don’t know; they hung up on me.”

“Rude.” The radio operator chuckled before returning to his control console.

The command bunker shook as another barrage of Glek’n shredder missiles struck outside. The radio operators crouched for cover while the Major pulled out a smoke and lit it.

“Relax lads,” he calmly said as he grinned, “those things are meant to shred infantry, not punch through buildings.”

The operators looked slightly more assured and returned to their seats. Mark tapped the shoulder and spoke softly to the operator he had used prior.

“Keep trying to reach command, and let me know the moment you’ve got them back on the line.”

With renewed vigor the operator nodded and began broadcasting again trying to reach coalition command as the major adjusted his helmet and made for the bunker’s entrance.

Outside the radio room waiting were several captains, their eyes all asking the same thing.

“It seems we had been instructed to retreat,” the major began as he took a deep breath, letting the smoke fill his lungs for a brief moment of bliss before the inevitable exhale, “but in their great wisdom coalition command failed to tell us until after the fact.”

A collective murmur of curses under breath and groans of disappointment swept over the captains as the near hopelessness of their situation further set in.

The Glek’n had launched a massive counter offensive across the entire planet ad by all reports coalition forces were being pushed back across the board. Except that is, for where they were standing.

Positioned atop a series of hills overlooking the only bridge across the Nexian river, the 199th had dug in and were holding back repeated offensives across the bridge to try and establish a beachhead. The end of the bridge on their side was littered with the broken bodies of Glek’n warriors and the hollow remains of destroyed armored vehicles.

Morale was holding strong but Mark knew it was only a matter of time before the Glek’n crossed one of the smaller bridges further up or down stream and completed their encirclement. He considered pulling the entire 199th up and making a quick march back towards coalition lines, but even now the noose was already tightening and they’d never make it time. They could either run and fight in the open or stay and fight in their trenches.

While pondering this dilemma a sudden realization dawned on him and the other captains.

The missile barrage had ceased.

“Out now.” Mark ordered as he pushed past his captains and exited the bunker. The green glow of the sky made him squint for a moment before his eyes adjusted but he was already moving to the nearest trench. Behind him the captains began likewise diving into trenches and scattering to rejoin their units and prepare for the next attack.

Mark snaked his way through a series of trenches towards the forward trench overlooking the bridge. All around him the soldiers of the 199th were emerging from dugouts and taking up firing positions. The injured were carried away on stretchers while the more unfortunate were pushed to the side of the trench to be buried later.

As he approached the front trench one of the soldiers saw him and handed him a pair of binoculars.

“Sir.” He nodded in greeting but never took his eyes off the bridge. Mark returned the nod and took the offered binoculars.

“What’ve we got?” Mark asked as he trained in on the bridge and the opposite bank.

“Something rather strange, sir.”

Mark was about to ask what in the nine hells that meant when he found his answer.

Slowly walking across the bridge carrying a large white cloth tied to a stick was a lone Glek’n warrior. Their armor was richly decorated but not overly ostentatious so he wagered they were a sub commander at best.

The Major watched the Glek’n sub commander navigate their way through the mounds of corpses he turned to the soldier next to him. “Do we have the translator unit still?” he asked. To his relief the soldier nodded. “Despite everything it’s one of the few things that hasn’t blown up.”

Mark held out his hand and the soldier quickly handed him the translator box. Turning up the volume to max, the Major addressed the approaching Glek’n.

“That’s far enough, stay there!”

The Glek’n flinched and cast their eyes around as if expecting a bullet at any moment. When none came they held up the white flag and waved it for all to see.

“You have fought bravely and with honor.” The Glek’n began, their English strained and barely understandable.

“Thank you,” the Major replied with a grin, “I wish I could say the same to you but judging from where you are standing it’d be a lie.”

The Glek’n winced from the insult but continued.

“My commander wishes to offer you terms of surrender. There is no need for you to die here today.”

Mark was about to reply to the offer when he stopped himself and thought. There was no guarantee Coalition forces would be able to reach them and they were now deep behind enemy lines. They had supplies but the more they fought the quicker they’d burn through them until they were down to fists and harsh language.

Turning to the soldier next to him the Major asked “What should I tell them?”

Without missing a beat the soldier grinned and replied “Tell’m to fuck off, sir.”

The Major smiled and patted the soldier on the back as he was reminded of the fighting spirit his soldiers still held on to even in these dark times. He brought the translator unit back up to give his reply and take on whatever may come next.

Humans are weird: War Consultant: A Yuri story

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The council chamber was filled with the hush murmurs of a dozen occupants. None wished to be there yet circumstances demanded that they put their animosity aside at least for the time being and handle the situation at hand.

“By our current estimates,” the Bree delegate began, “we will be able to effectively continue the war effort for another six months before we begin seeing the frontlines showing signs of collapse.”

A projection hummed to life in the center of the room displaying several star charts depicting the ongoing conflict zones. For the moment it appeared evenly split across a large swathe of space with the Coalition’s side depicted in blue and their enemy in red.

Directing the gathered attendant’s attention to several areas the Bree continued.

“After six months our projections forecast a major enemy offensive along the Tibre Nebula with the worlds Upharus, Negun, and Sigme VI either falling or becoming cut off in short order.”

The area mentioned on the charts morphed to show several long red streaks suddenly break the stalemate and cover entire sectors to showcase the rapid change of control. Many of the other delegates grumbled but said nothing as the Bree continued.

“Lacking a means to counterattack our enemy will become emboldened by this offensive and launch several more with the expected targets ranging from the outposts in Temarus sector to as far back as the Gemilun Prime.”

“Outrageous!” one of the delegates shouted.

The Bree turned but already knew it was the delegate of the Hux whose homeworld was Gemilun Prime.

“Our homeworld has never come under threat in over three hundred years and we shall not let that record be tarnished now!”

Several of the other Hux clapped and gave supporting adulations at the bravado but the Bree shook their head.

“Forgive me for being direct but the reality of the situation forgoes any considerations of pride and bluster.”

The Hux turned an agitated shade of purple but the Bree continued before the meeting devolved into a shouting match.

“In the past week alone you have lost four battleships inflicting massive casualties against our foes, yet they continue to whittle away your fleets with each new attack. They do not mean to overrun you now, but to cripple your fleets until the time is ripe and they launch a full offensive which has been predicted to be in six months’ time.”

 Their mouth moved open and closed several times as they tried to find the words to counter the Bree’s claim, but nothing came to the Hux and they quietly returned to their seat.

“No one is doubting your combat capabilities,” the Bree offered as an olive branch to the wounded pride of the Hux, “ but our enemies do not fight fairly and though you win your battles they are fighting to win the war.”

That notion of defeatism began to spread through the room as more delegates looked towards the star charts and the predictions for the upcoming attacks. Many would begin to look towards securing their own borders now and the entire Coalition would soon fall apart unless something was done swiftly.

“To that end,” the Bree spoke up once more, “I have called upon more experienced warriors of this style of warfare to offer us new solutions.”

With a nod of their head a pair of Bree guards opened a door leading out of the chamber and a lone figure stepped forward.

Nearly every delegate’s head turned to see the new comer but could barely make them out in the dimness of the room. They wore a long trench coat of the darkest black that went down to their ankles giving them a visage of a ghastly set of hands and head bobbing in the darkness until they reached the holographic projections and became fully illuminated.

“This is Yuri,” the Bree delegate began, “a tactical advisor sent to us by the humans.”

The mention of humans cast the room into a whirlwind of hushed discussion.

It had been true that the Coalition had invested many diplomatic missions towards inviting the humans to the war and gaining access to their military surplus of ships, soldiers, and material; yet at every turn the humans had remained frustratingly neutral on the matter and respectfully declined.

“Is your presence here an indication that the humanity will be joining the war effort?” a Baklu delegate inquired.

“It is not.” The human Yuri responded directly.

As the notions of despair began to wash over the room once more Yuri stepped further into the light of the projections so all could see him.

“I am here unofficially and without any connection to the formal government of my people. Any notion or inclination of my presence here will be swiftly and categorically denied by my government and be treated as insulting propaganda.”

“Then what are you here for?” the Hux remarked unassumingly drawing a few chuckles from other delegates.

Without skipping a beat the human turned to face the Hux and fixed them with a surprisingly cold stare.

“I am here to win your war for you.”

The Hux was left aghast but was left little window to respond as the human withdrew the sleeve of his coat to reveal a data pad strapped to his arm. They entered in several keys in rapid succession and the projections began to retreat from the horrific projections to the current standstill.

“Your projections show that you have six months before the war is lost.” Yuri began as he paced the display area. “I will give you a plan that will ensure your victory in five.”

This time the murmurs of the gathered delegates grew louder as they took in this seemingly fortunate news.

“But you said humanity will not invest war material into the conflict.” A Drumur delegate interjected. Yuri nodded in reply as if a promising student just asked the million dollar question.

“Indeed it will not. These plans involve the forces you already have on hand with the addition of likely obtained intelligence.”

“And what does that mean?” the Drumur continued. “ “Likely obtained intelligence”?”

Yuri smiled. “It implies just that. Intelligence you would likely have obtained through your own means and not supplied from outside sources.”

Not fully grasping the implication the Drumur was about to further question when the more readily aware delegates shot them a sidelong glance to be silent.

While it seemed the humans would not supply war material, it seemed they were not above supply intelligence that under other circumstances could be believed to have been obtained without their involvement ever being known. It was a trade many were more than willing to accept given the state of the conflict.

Yuri entered several keys and a new world appeared at the center of the projections.

“This is Min III, a farming world within enemy controlled space.” Yuri began. “It is the primary food producing world for nearly 1/8th of your enemy’s domain and has no military garrison or space born defenses.”

“And?” the Hux delegate interjected.

“And you are going to burn it to the ground.” Yuri remarked as if the point was obvious.

This sent the delegates from hushed murmurs into outright outbursts.

“The conventions of war-“ the Hux began

“-state no civilian world with no military presence will be subject to a military strike.” Yuri finished.

“But Min III is not a civilian world, but a military nexus supply depot.”

When none of the delegates responded Yuri continued.

“Min III currently may supply 1/8th of the total empire, but the food supplies harvested there contribute to over 76% of the total rations consumed by their military forces. An entire city on the planet’s surface is dedicated to nothing else but storehouses filled to the brim with frozen rations waiting to be shipped to soldiers and naval crewmen.”

“Why not just strike the storehouses then?” the Drumur countered. “There is no need to put an entire world to the torch.”

“The primary targets will indeed be the military storehouses,” Yuri admitted, “but in the chaos of the attack some barrages will go wild and damage other storehouses and fields, igniting massive fires that will spread uncontrollably until the world is engulfed in flame.”

While the delegates discussed Yuri tapped several more keys and pulled up data charts.

“Unable to supply frontline forces, offensives will grind to a halt as resupply becomes critical. Severe rationing will also be placed across their entire empire as emergency storehouses are opened to the public to sustain them and prevent further chaos.”

More hushed murmurs as Yuri entered more keys and the projection shifted to another world.

“This is Vargus, a recruitment, transit, and primary logistics world for their empire.”

“After you have attacked and burned to the primary food source of the empire you will offer them an olive branch and ship large portions of older rations to them as a gesture of good will.”

“So we burn down their food then offer them ours? What madness is this!?”

Yuri shook his head. "Their food situation will be predicted in such dire straights that they will not forgo free provisions, even ones given from their enemy." He then tapped in several keys and brought up a picture of a microscopic organism of some kind.

“What you see before you is the parasitic organism “Septimus Frilus”, or more commonly known as the “Stomach Biter”. When dehydrated, the organism will go into a dormant deathlike state, completely undetectable, and remain in such until coming into contact with moisture.”

Yuri clicked again and showed the organisms being placed into food rations.

“The older food rations you give will be half infected with these parasitic organisms and when they come into contact with the internal moisture of an internal body will become active and latch on to their hosts stomach lining.”

This drew outbursts from several delegates.

“What you advocate is biological warfare!”

Yuri shook his head. “What you see here is outdated scanning procedures that missed a harmful, but non-lethal, organism. It will not kill the host but instead cause crippling bouts of pain at random intervals that will require a three week long treatment to fully cure.”

Another projection chart appeared.

“The damage done to manpower will throw the logistical nerve center into further chaos as the seeming plague leaves thousands unable to perform their duties, but militarily and in the civilian sector. This coupled with the increasing food shortages will push the empire further into chaos.”

“What do any of these schemes have to do with winning the war?” The Hux demanded. “All I have seen is you unleashing unnecessary chaos for the sake of chaos.”

Yuri looked disapprovingly at the Hux.

“Wars are only sustained if they maintain the support of the people. If you take their will to fight away from them then you will have won the war.”

He turned to further address the entire gathering.

“For the last year now you have sought to break their spirits on the battlefield and only highlighted your own shortcomings. You need to bring the battlefield from the distance worlds straight to their doorstep to ensure your final victory.”

He tapped some keys and the projections showed what would happen in six months time if they did not act. "My plans may not seem morally right to some of you, but by its very nature war itself is the culmination of the morally flawed."

The delegates wished to counter but said nothing. For all their outrage and bluster at the human’s plans none of their own had proven as successful on the battlefield and now their backs were nearly up against the wall.

When no one else spoke up in protest Yuri continued and laid out the complete and utter destruction of their enemies.

Humans are weird: Social Battery

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

Alien: Friend Mark, I have a question.

Mark: Shoot.

Alien: Is there something wrong with human Jennifer?

Mark: You know you can just say “Jennifer”, you don’t need to add “human” in front of it.

Alien: Then how would you know of whom I speak?

Mark: I think it’s a safe bet that there aren’t any non-humans with human names.

Alien: I once met a twenty armed Morbigan named “Steve”.

Mark: ……….

Mark: So why do you think something’s up with Jennifer?

Alien: She went to a party with me earlier this week but afterwards she went straight to her room and has not gone to anything else since.

Mark: Is she sick?

Alien: She says she is done with people.

Mark: Ah, okay.

Mark: Don’t worry about it, her social battery is just recharging.

Alien: Is she part android?

Mark: No.

Alien: But you just said she has a battery.

Mark: It’s not a literal battery, more of an expression.

Mark: We use it when we are done interacting with people and don’t want to be around them anymore.

Alien: But I was led to believe humans are social creatures and need social interactions.

Alien: Why would Jennifer not want to be social?

Mark: Her social battery is just smaller and the effort of being social takes a larger drain on that battery until its empty.

Mark: Everything then can start to annoy them at that point and they are just done with the situation.

Mark: People, places, things; they are over all of it and just want to go home and not have to put up with it anymore.

Alien: Why go out at all then?

Mark: Well like you said we are still human and we all need social interactions.

Mark: It’s just that some people only need a small dose of interactions to feel content, others need a large amount.

Mark: So it can range from getting a coffee together with someone to needing to hike a nearby mountain.

Alien: So she is not sick?

Mark: Nah.

Mark: Give her a few days and she’ll be right as rain again.

Mark: If you want to help speed it up, give her some extra blankets and snacks.

Mark: Just be sure not to disturb her too long if you do.

Alien: Why?

Mark: When our social batteries are down our tendencies to be polite and cheery go down as well.

Alien: It can’t be that bad.

Mark: Last time I had no social battery I was forced to go to a party for someone who just quit smoking.

Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad.

Mark: I got them a pack of smokes as a gift and was not invited back after they smoked the entire thing in front of their guests.