Humanity Fuck Yeah!

Part2 / Part 4

/knock knock/

-Uh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

But the nightmare was yet to unfold.

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

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

But millions?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For fucks sake, they were just going home.

/Dhasso braced himself to contain a shudder/

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It all looked very grim.

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

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

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

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

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

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

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

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

-NO

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

Counselors from different religions stood up and agreed.

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

Flabergasted, the clergyman shouted to the voice:

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

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

-EMPTY THREATS DO NOT WORK ON US.

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

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

-WE DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORISTS.

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

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

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

The voice spoke again, a single, magic phrase.

-WE HAVE THE HIGH GROUND.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had happened?

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

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

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

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

Yes, they made improvised orbital impactors.

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

In short: mutual self assured destruction.

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

Anyhow this was the right moment and place for them.

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

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

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

STAND DOWN YOUR WEAPONS, GO HOME.

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

DO YOUR MATH.

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

YOU DECIDE.

Everyone held their breath.

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

Luckily for humans, that did not happen.

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

---

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

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

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

-Too bad, I loved it!.

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

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

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

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

Part 1 - Part 3

---

-Proffesor Dhasso?

-Yes?

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then the funny thing happened.

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

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

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

“TRY ME, FUCKERS!”

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

The story did not end there, however.

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

This is where the whole debacle began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 2

Sounds of screaming, people crying. The bloodthirsty marauders killing, looting, burning and raping. Led by a strong war magi , who blasted the guards with ease, letting his men roam the streets unhindered. No escape, everyone trapped. A Scraw-bear is pierced by magical spears, as it is rearing up on its hind legs, protecting a child…

It was the light and soft sounds of cooking that woke Deedra that morning from a bad dream, still utterly exhausted after the day before. The dream however quickly faded away into obscurity.

“Good morning my little sleeping blossom.” her mother said to her, noticing her stirring in her bed.

Deedra fought to get the sleep out of her head as she sat up. It took a couple of seconds before she remembered that she would be going to the market by herself.

“Am I late?!” she nearly yelled, worried that she would not get a good spot at the market, since she had to unload the dried flowers first.

“Do not fret,” her mother told her, smiling at her as she went about setting up the table for them all to eat “there is plenty of time for you to eat and get ready. Your father is setting up Ballock with the cart harness, so you can go once you have eaten.”

Deedra quickly went about getting dressed, made a loose braid of her long brown hair and then helped with the remaining things to get the breakfast ready.

Just as they were setting the cauldron of porridge on the table, her father came in, wiping his hands in an old rag.

“That main buckle is not in good condition anymore,” he said with brows furrowed in thoughtfulness “you have to get a bit of copper from the smith in town, so I can make a new one.”

“Will it be safe for her to travel alone then?” her mother asked, gesturing for them to sit down to eat.

“Yes, no doubt about it. The harness could make the trip ten times over with a much heavier load before I would become worried, but it needs to be mended nonetheless.” he reassured her, as he sat down on his chair and grabbed a piece of bread, leaving the dirty rag on the table. Her mother scowled at him, which he either did not notice or outright ignored, of which one Deedra could determine.

Her mother then cleared her throat, which got his attention.

“What?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“That rag, dear?” she said, giving him a stern smile.

He picked it up, holding it at his eye level and looked at it as if it was a tiny defenceless cub of some sort.

“You hear that, raggy? Old meany, weany Genna does not want you at the table. Guess you better be hidden in my pocket.” he said to it, while making big sorrow filled eyes at it.

At this, Deedra laughed so hard that the water she was just about to drink shot out of her nose, causing her to cough and laugh at the same time.

Even her mother could not hold back laughing at his utter stupid silliness.

It took them a while to calm down to be able to eat again, but the sheer happiness and love for one another filled the little home to the brim. Right now, this was the happiest place in the whole kingdom, if not the whole continent.

As they were finishing up, Deedra and her mother went over a list of items for her to buy, once she had sold what she could, adding on to it the copper for the buckle. In the meantime, Wrenrik was fastening Bullock to the cart, making sure everything was secure and working.

Once everything was in order and the list securely stored in her wandering sack, along with some food and drink, Deedra took her bow and quiver with two handfuls of arrows in it and heaved herself unto Ballock, the big Scraw-bear lending one of his legs for her to use as a stool.

Even though the roads were safe from other people, there was still the potential for critters of various kinds.

As she was making herself secure in the saddle on the big beast's back, her father came up to her, reached up and gave her a gentle squeeze on her thigh, saying “Tomorrow you’re turning 12, so you have my permission to spend a full silver coin at Mrs. Boon’s store.”

“A WHOLE silver coin?!” she exclamied in surprise.

Mrs. Boon made some of the best hard sweets and small cute pastries. And to get to spend a full silver coin would get her a stomachache of grand proportions, she knew.

“Be careful and make us and yourself proud” he said to her, as she set off with Ballock pulling the heavy cart with ease.

“And remember, if Master Fremdon tries to get out of giving you coins in hand at delivery…” Her father called out to her.

“I know, I know! Start to pack up and mention Master Blenberry.” She yelled back at them, giving them a final wave.

“What was that about?” Genna asked him, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Master Fremdon has been trying to drive the prices down and on more than one occasion tried to withhold payment upon delivery of goods. A couple of weeks ago, I learned that Master Blenberry, over in Gladston, was the former apprentice of Master Fremdon. And his famed tea-making skills are quickly growing.”

“Huh…” Genna said, thinking a bit “Small town slander and gossip?” she mused “Rivalry among the tea-makers. Would it be worth the trip at some point?” she asked him.

“I will bring him some samples, next time I have to make the trip and see what he would be willing to offer.”

Then, they stood there a while, looking at Deedra making her way to town, arms around each other.

“Listen, my blossom,” Wrenrik said to Genna after a short while “I have a few things I need to do, but how about we relax today and maybe we could open a bottle of blueberry wine…” he trailed off.

She pinched his buttcheek and looked up to him, answering “I would love that. I too, however, have a few things I need to get done, but come find me, when you are done with the things you need to do, I think I will be done before you are.”

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sauntered off toward the barn, the wind playing with her long black hair, the early morning making it gleam like polished onyx. Wrenrik just stood there, taking in every little detail.

“Get going, you big oaf!” she called out to him over her shoulder, laughing “I want to be in your embrace soon!”

With that as motivation, he started off to do the things he had planned to get done this fine morning.

First he wanted to take some measurements for Deedra’s room and mark it up, which should not take him very long. After that, he needed to go see, if that blundering ball of negative elegance, Ballock, had trampled through the firewood piles, he had spent quite some time building up.

Doing the measurements had not taken Wrenrik very long and with a little luck, it should not cost much more than 3 gold in total to build. Now he was sorting through the stacks of firewood, the freshly cut stack and the stack of dry firewood having been knocked over, as he suspected, by Ballock, most likely while chasing small vermin through the grass.

As he was squatting down and sorting the wood into two piles, his ears picked up the sound of snapping branches in the thick underbrush of the forest, some 60 feet away to his left.

Getting up and turning toward the sound, three men emerged, clad in mismatched armour, various pelts and dirty clothing. The one in the middle had a bow with an arrow already knocked on the string, while the other two had nasty jagged swords and small round shields.

By instinct, his hand went for where he would have had his sword, but it only found empty air. The only thing he had was his small axe and a log of wood.

“Oha farmer man,” one of the men with a sword called out to him “you live here alone so far out from a town?” as they all slowly started to advance toward him, dark intentions in the eyes of them all.

“Ay, that I do.” Wrenrik lied to them. ‘By the Gods, please run and hide my love’ he prayed within himself, as he slowly started to move toward them, evaluating their movements and which of them would be the biggest threat.

The fact that this simple farmer started to advance toward them and did not wet himself and run, as they had expected, made them pause. No matter, even though a hunt for scared prey is fun, nothing beats a fight, the one that had spoken, thought to himself.

In an instant, the man with the bow had let the arrow fly at him, Wrenrik just managing to twist out of its path in the last second, as it zipped past his chest within the width of a hair.

He could feel it. He had gotten old and slow. He had not physically trained since Deedra was born, only going over the movements in his mind. In his prime, these would-be robbers would not have presented a challenge for him. As things were right now, however, he was without sword, armour and practice. He would have to make due with what he had and win by outmanoeuvring them.

Using the momentum of the twist, he flung the log at the archer. A crunch from the archer's nose could be heard, as it connected with his face with great force, knocking him out cold.

The other two men were caught off guard, not expecting a simple farmer to stand up against them like that, but it only lasted a second. “Aw, this gonna be fun!” one of the men with a sword snarled, flashing a wicked smile at him, exposing his dirty teeth.

They charged headlong at him, savagery making up for the lack of discipline and skill, slashing at him, stabbing and lunging, but Wrenrik dodged the attacks, blocking them with his axe and getting them to block potential attacks by not allowing them to surround him. Wrenrik was straining himself to keep up with the much younger men and the wooden handle of the axe would not stand up to many blocks from their swords.

Using the head of the axe, he managed to get it to lock around the guard of the sword and with a strong twist and spin, he disarmed one of them. The surprised marauder did not perceive how the spin ended with the small axe buried in his skull, nearly cleaving it in two and the handle finally giving out after all the punishment, breaking in half.

The other man took a couple of steps back, not willing to re engage, giving Wrenrik time to pick up the sword and shield from the dead man.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now. And you picked the wrong farm to attack!” Wrenrik said to him, getting into a proper defensive stance and started toward the now worried would-be robber.

Wrenrik did not see other than a small streak of blue light out of the corner of his eye, as a vicious magical arrow came flying, tearing through his calf, ripping it halfway off.

Crying out in pain, he fell to one knee, unable to keep himself standing, the last man with a sword beginning to laugh at him

“You think it was just us three, you dull peasant? Look at the big bad man now!” he said, spitting at him. Wrenrik was still holding on to the sword, keeping it in a defensive position between himself and the swordsman.

The underbrush rustled, as some four dozen men stepped out from the forest underbrush, having watched the spectacle. Wrenrik’s heart sank deep and fast, a gaping pit forming in his gut.

“Enough of this!” The man in front, leading them, called out, clearly not pleased that this simple farmer could take down two of his men with such ease.

He was clad in fine maroon robes and wore light leather armour, an elegant rapier hung at his side and he held a staff with a glowing stone at the end of it in his right hand.

“Answer truthfully, and I will end you quickly. Lie to me, and I will slowly sear off your skin.” the leader of the group said, as he walked right up to Wrenrik, just out of reach from the sword.

“Do you know of someone named Gren? Or maybe Mallock? Might have moved to these parts 3 or 4 years ago, setting himself up to be a mayor or judge? A man of authority? Hm? Oh, and where do you keep your coins, if you have any? You owe me for a man or two…” he said, as he pointed the staff at Wrenriks head.

—

Genna had just finished milking the cows and was about to set them out to the pasture, when she heard what sounded like… fighting? No, that’s not right, she thought to herself. She stood still for a bit, just listening. Nothing. Must have been old nightmares playing tricks on her mind again, she thought to herself.

As she started to pour the last milk into a clay jug, she heard Wrenrik cry out in pain.

All of the world's fear set upon her in an instant. Letting the bucket fall, her legs felt like they were filled with lead, as she began to run. With every step, she tried to reason with herself, that he had just fallen and broken something or cut himself by accident, nothing serious, just…

It took her less than a minute, but it felt like hours, to reach the house, where she looked inside for him. Not here, she thought to herself and worried that he might not hear her, if she called out to him.

Just then, she heard an unfamiliar voice talking, dread gripping at her gut. She followed the sound of the voice, coming from somewhere behind their small home.

Peaking around the corner, her fear was replaced by vengeful fury. Without thinking, she started to walk toward them.

To Wrenriks great horror, he saw his beloved Genna come walking towards them, eyes glowing bright green, her hair flowing wide with the power within her.

“YOU FOOLS!” She screamed at them, voice cold and nearly ethereal “YOU HAVE JUST DELIVERED YOURSELF TO SLAUGHTER!”

The sudden appearance of her put many of the men on edge and even their leader took a couple of steps back, raising his staff toward her, ready to fend off an attack.

“NO! GENNA, PLEASE! DON’T BREAK THE PACT! THINK OF DEEDRA!” he yelled out with all his might, that he might break through to her.

The green light faded slightly from her eyes as he continued to plead to her.

“If you break the pact, not only will you die, but Deedra too. Both of your spirits…” he continued, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. He knew that there was no surviving this for the two of them, but at least Deedra was safe in town.

The green light flickered in her eyes, as she remembered the pact she had made and her beloved daughter. Never would she use magic again, in exchange for giving birth to a living child, made with the man she loved, the man that had saved her from her dark and lonely spiral of death.

All her thoughts left her, as two arrows, laced with poison, found their mark in her abdomen, bringing her to her knees.

“What are you?” the leader asked noone “Such power… and yet you hold back? What? Because of your child? Pathetic!” he said, his voice laced heavily with disdain. “Weak!”

He stood still a few seconds, contemplating the situation.

“No matter,” he continued, as he gestured for his men to pick them both up and bring them along “we will search your house and be on our way soon enough, once you have answered my questions.”

Wrenrik tried to fend them off, but they roped his arms and tied him up, making sure he could not pose a threat to them again.

Genna was numb in her entire body, unable to fight back, as they dragged her by one arm to the front of the house. Here they tossed onto Wrenriks woodwork table, which stood under a small canopy.

Several of the men started to rummage through the house, sounds of items being broken, things being torn apart, as they searched for anything of value. Their leader questioned Wrenrik about some man. Not knowing who he was talking about, the leader's frustration grew, as he kicked Wrenrik several times in the gut and face.

“Sir, look what we found…” one of the men came running out of the small home with something wrapped in cloth “it was hidden in the rafters.”

The leader removed the cloth to reveal a sword. Not just any sword, he quickly realised, but one given to soldiers that served in the Demagok war at Heraman, for their bravery. It was sleek and light, made of the finest steel, inlaid with silver along the spine and magically sharpened. On the hilt, the names of the survivors were etched and outlined with white gold and a family crest engraved in the pommel, a crest given to the survivors by the five kingdoms. Only 36 were made and given out, to the very few that survived the ordeal.

“Will you look at this?” Their leader said, smiling with delight, as he gripped the sword and gave it some practised swings. “Do we have ourselves the Great grandson of a war hero here?” He turned to face Wrenrick that lay bound on the ground “Or did you steal it?” he asked, smiling slyly at him.

“You are not worthy to hold, nay, even to gaze upon that sword!” Wrenrik spat at him, as he struggled against the ropes, blood dripping from his mouth.

“Oh, I will be more than just holding it.” he retorted, his eyes flashing with anger at the insolence of this peasant, as he quickly lifted the sword above his head, bringing it down in a swift motion.

One of the men walked over to Genna, where she lay on the table. He was huge, both in height and bulk. Half of his face was disfigured by fire, the eye having turned white from the damage.

Leaning in over her, he squeezed her breast hard, her eyes flashing murder at him.

“Mmm…” he said in a low growl, smiling darkly at her “Ripe.”

He flipped her over, the arrows boring deeper into her gut, as he tore apart her dress.

He then forced himself upon her, violently and without mercy, tears of pain running from her eyes, as she turned all of the thoughts to Deedra, focused on her beloved daughter, who would be safe in town at least.

Once he was done with her, he drew out a knife from his belt and let the cold steel glide over her cheek til it came up to her ear.

She didn’t even feel the pain of it, as he cut off her right ear, which he stroked gently between his bloodied fingers very shortly, before adding it to his collection in a pouch.

The giant man then let his fellow marauders have his leftovers.

They took turns violating her, the pain from the arrows not masking the hurt it brought, as they cheered each other on, laughing like madmen.

With what little strength she still had left in her body, she turned her head to look for her beloved husband, her Wrenrik, to seek comfort in his eyes.

She found them looking at her, unblinking and lifeless, the happiness, warmth and joy robbed from them by these filthy animals. She wanted nothing more than to release all of her power, in a last consuming firescape, ridding the world of these monsters.

But she could not. She could not bear the thought of her daughter's spirit being bound to a Grand Deamagok, bolstering its own powers, forever in torment.

Her lifeforce was ebbing out quickly, the wound of the arrows and the poison working quickly in tandem. She exhaled her last breath, cursing the men.

After tearing the small home apart and not finding much else of interest, except for a small chest with their coins and some trinkets, the leader released a torrent of fire from his staff as he sat the small home ablaze, before they moved on. ****___

What is HFY, HWTF, HASO and WC?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is a collection of short writing prompts of very different styles, organized as disorganized Transcripts during the Zombie Apocalypse from 2023. Some are funny, some serious, some insightful, some describe military operations. No Transcript is like another.

...

Transcript 06

[Video of several US flags at half-mast. A nation standing in silence in front of their flag, paying respect to its dead. Minister Janine Porter addressing the audience.]

When the zombie outbreak struck, America was caught off guard. Unprepared for an enemy that couldn't be deterred or reasoned with, panic spread as quickly as the infection. With society breaking down, the government called on civilians to take up arms against the undead menace. However, this only exacerbated the chaos.

Untrained and frenzied gun owners inflicted nearly as many accidental casualties as the zombies. Amateur militias sprang up, acting with negligence and hysteria. Tactics were brutal and haphazard. Innocents were gunned down alongside the infected, sometimes on mere suspicion of a bite.

This vigilante response undermined the coordinated military effort. Rogue groups operated outside the chain of command, disrupting transport and supplies for troops. Some militias even exploited the crisis for personal gain, seizing resources and territory like warlords.

These rebel factions hoarded food, weapons, and other necessities, which they traded at extortionate prices. Lacking proper training and discipline, such amateur forces often cracked under pressure, abandoning zones and civilians they had pledged to protect. Their actions exposed more lives to zombie attack.

Only the unified military succeeded in taking back cities in an organized fashion. They implemented strict rules of engagement to avoid needless loss of life. With rigour and precision, they swept infested areas street by street, balancing caution with swiftness.

Yet the military remained understaffed, with its mission complicated by the uncontrolled actions of vigilantes. Some rogue bands even exchanged fire with troops if they tried to enforce order, believing martial law was tyranny.

This resistance from within weakened America's defense when it needed unity most. While civilians armed with good intentions tried to fight the zombie hordes, the chaos they sowed too often ended in tragedy.

It was only after the fall of Chicago that several large militias started to cooperate fully integrated with the military-industrial complex. As support troops under military command militias often proved to become valuable partners, securing logistics and collecting local information. The retaking of Chicago would have not been possible with the same speed and decisiveness we came to witness along these fine men and women.

As the situation dragged on our forces ran slowly out of supply. Thankfully many preppers had prepared well and while they often threatened to use violence to defend what they deemed “theirs” it was usually enough to aim a heavy auto cannon at their make-shift bunkers to make them comply. Only in rare cases they were blown up together with their bunkers from a safe distance to get access to their much needed supplies, which proved valuable to avert the supply crisis.

When most militias had aligned with the military the following mopping up of the undead became rather unspectacular. With nearly half of the surviving 280 million Americans armed and organized we managed to clean out whole cities in mere days where earlier the stalemate took months.

In the end, discipline and training proved decisive in beating back the undead tide. The armed forces and authorized law enforcement reclaimed civilization, block by block, though at a higher cost due to initial disorganization on the home front. Next time disaster strikes, we must work together in solidarity, and avoid the perils of fear-driven vigilantism.

...

Transcript 03

A video recording in bad quality, obviously from the webcam of a cheap notebook.

Farid: performing experiments on the tied body of a twitching zombie, then sighs and takes off bloody gloves I need a smoke, I can't keep doing this.

Gerhardt: Don't, you abstained for nearly 10 years!

Farid: lights cigarette anyway I know, I know. But cutting up these zombies, trying to find a cure...we're becoming Mengele's heirs if we continue.

Gerhardt: We have to keep going. The cure will save thousands, maybe millions of lives. The ends justify the means.

Farid: takes drag of cigarette, exhales smoke I hope you're right.

Gerhardt: examining a zombie specimen under microscope This is strange..look at this.

Farid: peers into microscope What am I seeing?

Gerhardt: The virus, it's no longer spreading in this one. The human cells don’t mutate any more.

Farid: eyes widening Are you thinking...

Gerhardt: stands up abruptly, knocking over stool Eureka! We've found it, the cure!

Farid: laughs triumphantly and high-fives Gerhardt All the work, the disgusting experiments, finally paid off! We did it! takes another drag of cigarette, smiling slyly It is better to ask for forgiveness than for permission, what do you say?

Gerhardt: We'll be remembered as the scientists who ended the zombie plague. That's all that matters.

...

Transcript 07

[John de Vries reporting in front of court house, with cuts to prisoners in orange outfits locked into glass cubes]

Justice has finally been served against the violent vigilantism that plagued America's fight against the undead. Yesterday, a federal court convicted members of the notorious "Reaper Brigade" on charges of murder, assault, racketeering, and unlawful seizure of property.

This militia group rose to prominence in the early days of the zombie outbreak, when they took over the city of Red Oak and declared martial law. Brandishing weapons and improvised uniforms, they ruthlessly patrolled streets for both zombies and "law-breakers." Their harsh brand of order was enforced through coercion and public executions.

As the Reaper Brigade's territory grew, so did their abuses of power. They detained citizens without cause, ransacked homes for supplies, and killed dozens accused of hiding zombie bites or failing to comply with their decrees. Residents lived in fear as ruthless brigands posing as protectors.

When military forces moved to retake Red Oak, the militia violently resisted. They attacked troops and convoys, hampering zombie eradication efforts across the region. Even after their ousting, the Reapers continued guerrilla strikes and terror tactics. They left a trail of bodies, living and undead alike.

Yesterday's landmark convictions provide justice for the Reaper Brigade's victims, though it comes too late for the hundreds killed by their hands. The court sentenced the militia's leadership to death for their war crimes, with lesser figures receiving life in prison. Authorities also seized the group's stockpiles of ill-gotten resources.

While independent militias sought to aid the zombie war effort, the Reaper Brigade case stands as a stark warning of the havoc caused by unchecked vigilantism. As we rebuild our country, we must reject so-called protectors who exploit crisis for power. Their actions in the name of survival shook the foundations of our civilization when it was most fragile. This time, we ensured the rule of legitimate law for a secure future.

...

Transcript 08

[Excerpt from ‘CBS Evening News’, recorded and reported at site by Catherine Blinken]

In the wake of tragedy, a heart-warming act of compassion has divided public opinion. Maryanne Callow, a widowed farmer in Iowa, has taken into her home over a dozen children orphaned by the zombie outbreak. While many praise her generosity, others argue the war's survivors must fend for themselves.

Maryanne lost her husband Jonas to a zombie attack while trying to protect their town. She herself narrowly survived, escaping the horde that descended upon her farmhouse. In the aftermath, with no family left, Maryanne found purpose in sheltering those who suffered similar fates.

Having converted her barn into a makeshift dormitory, she spends her days tending fields and caring for the children. Though money is scarce, she generously shares what little food and milk her cows provide. Moved by selfless care from a total stranger, the orphans have embraced Maryanne as a surrogate mother.

Many in the community call Maryanne a saint taking on such a burden amidst her own grief. Her charity has inspired donations from Neighbors, grateful for her compassion. "She gave those kids a home when nobody else could," said local teacher Alice Huang.

However, not all reactions have been supportive. Some argue that with resources still scarce, individuals should provide for themselves and their own families first. They call Maryanne's actions foolhardy.

Outspoken rancher Wade Forrester criticized what he called "misplaced charity that enables the weak." He argued that taking in strangers' children may breed dependency in turbulent times.

Others have even crueller words for Maryanne, believing she harbours the orphans only for the extra farm hands. "The woman just wants free labour," claimed Randy Knox, whose own sons work his fields.

Maryanne pays no mind to the critics. "I have enough love for every child," she said, "And enough room in my heart and home, if others will not provide it." Her selfless devotion continues to nurture youths scarred by unimaginable horrors, giving them hope for the future.

...

Transcript 09

[Demonetised YouTube Video by notorious right wing conspiracy theorist Rush Sharapova]

The Official Story is a Lie! New Evidence Shows Zombie Outbreak Was Man-Made!

The government wants you to think the zombie epidemic was a freak natural occurrence – some mutated rabies strain or a virus that jumped species. But the truth is far more sinister.

New evidence reveals the undead pandemic was intentionally engineered and unleashed upon the public! This was no accident – it was a deliberate act of mass murder by power-hungry elites.

I have obtained secret documents that expose a covert CIA program called "Project Lazarus." For years they worked to develop weaponized diseases at a remote base in the Nevada desert. Their goal? To create infectious super-soldiers that could be controlled while unleashing chaos on enemies.

But the Frankenstein-like experiments got out of hand. An experimental zombie virus mutated into an uncontrollable plague. Rather than own up to their crimes, the CIA purposely released the contagion in major cities to cover their tracks. Their disregard for human life is staggering!

Meanwhile, the puppet President maintains his charade, pretending to "fight the outbreak" while enforcing martial law. But his tyrannical lockdowns have nothing to do with public safety or containment. It's only an excuse to increase surveillance, confiscate guns, and destroy civil liberties!

Who benefits most from this manufactured crisis? The New World Order, of course! It was a plot to cripple and subjugate the nation through fear. Now the globalists can reshape society to their twisted agenda with minimal resistance.

As you can all understand I can not disclose my proof as it would put my valuable life into danger but trust me, I know what I am doing!

Wake up, America! We have been betrayed by our own government – they are the true enemy. The corporate media continues the cover-up, but here at Truth Bearer Network, we won't rest until the guilty are exposed. The masses deserve to know how this evil was inflicted upon them. We must rise up against the liars and killers who orchestrated the zombie holocaust!

...

Transcript 10

[Excerpt from an ARMA3 discord channel]

PV2 Cheese: Did you see the latest conspiracy theory saying the government manufactured the zombie virus?

Specialist Pumpkin-Pie: Oh yeah, because the government is always cooking up bioweapons that conveniently get released on the public!

PV2 Cheese: Exactly! I'm sure they planned for the zombies to devour taxpayers and cripple the economy. That's governance 101.

Specialist Pumpkin-Pie: Of course! The lizard overlords in the CIA obviously wanted society to collapse so they could control the survivors. Duh!

PV2 Cheese: It all makes perfect sense if you don't think about it at all! No way it could just be a freak natural outbreak. That would be too plausible.

Specialist Pumpkin-Pie: Natural origin? Boring! It must be a sinister plot to take away our guns and freedoms under cover of martial law.

PV2 Cheese: Yeah, instigating the zombie apocalypse is definitely the most reasonable path to gun control and public obedience. Flawless logic.

Specialist Pumpkin-Pie: The government is famous for releasing dangerous diseases against their own people! Happens every Tuesday.

PV2 Cheese: Exactly, unleashing uncontrollable zombies is Political Science 101. I don't know why we're even questioning this, the truth is so obvious!

Specialist Pumpkin-Pie: Of course! I can't believe we ever doubted that the pandemic was engineered by shadowy forces to advance their evil agenda. Silly us!

PV2 Cheese: Yep, next time an unexplained disaster happens, we'll know right away it's a covert attack to expand the lizard people's power. Case closed!

...

Transcript 11

[Transcript from a Baltic telegram chat]

Can Deposit: Ugh, I'm so tired of the zombie apocalypse.

Skywalker1996: Tell me about it. I'm dead on my feet over here.

Can Deposit: The zombies keep barging in unannounced. So inconsiderate.

Skywalker1996: I know, they never RSVP! A little notice would be nice before they come over trying to eat our brains.

Can Deposit: How's your day going?

Skywalker1996: Oh you know, just casually getting attacked by the undead. Hbu?

Can Deposit: Same old, same old. Dodging zombies, boarding up windows, running out of avocado toast.

Skywalker1996: Ugh I miss avocado toast so much! Do you think the zombies would wait while I quickly make some?

Can Deposit: Doubtful. The only thing on their minds is devouring human flesh. No patience for brunch.

Skywalker1996: Rude! I bet if they just tried avocado toast they'd give up this whole brain eating thing.

Can Deposit: Worth a shot! Let's lure them in with artisanal toast and see what happens.

Skywalker1996: Omg please make that the next movie plot. Avocado Toast Zombie Whisperer. I'd watch it.

Can Deposit: Ha-ha deal. We'll get Brad Pitt on board and make millions!

Skywalker1996 [last online 14 days ago]

Can Deposit: Dude, you are still alive?

[...nothing...]

Can Deposit: Well, shit...

...

Transcript 12

Anti-Vax: I'm telling you, I'm not putting that vaccine in my body! There's a chance it could turn me into a zombie. I read online that it has a 1 in 1 million chance of causing zombification.

Brother: You're being ridiculous. That rumour has been debunked. There have been over 2 billion doses given worldwide with no issues.

Anti-Vax: Big Pharma is covering it up. They don't want to admit their mistakes. I'm not taking that risk.

Brother: You're already at risk! The zombie virus is already inside everyone. The vaccine just prepares your immune system to fight it off. If you don't get vaccinated, you'll likely turn into a zombie within 6 months anyway.

Anti-Vax: That's just a scare tactic. I feel fine, I'm not going to become a zombie.

Brother: You might feel fine now, but the virus has a long incubation period. By the time you show symptoms, it'll be too late. The vaccine is the only way to prevent people from turning once the virus becomes active.

Anti-Vax: You're believing all the media hype. I don't trust those so-called "experts." I'll take my chances without the vaccine.

Brother: This isn't about beliefs or opinions. It's about facts and science. The researchers have shown that the vaccine is safe and effective at stopping this virus. You're putting your life at risk by not getting vaccinated.

Anti-Vax: I'm not going to change my mind. I won't be turning into a mindless zombie for Big Pharma! This is about freedom and personal choice.

Brother: sigh Okay, it's your funeral. But don’t make Mum cry when you're walking around eating people's brains in a few months.

...

Transcript 01

This transcript is approved for public use.

This transcript summarizes the analysis and recommendations of the German Council of Economic Experts, colloquial known as the “Five Sages”, regarding the current status of the zombie outbreak and its implications for Germany and our European and international allies.

As you know, three months ago this country and the world faced an unprecedented crisis as a sudden, aggressive zombie plague erupted across the globe. Within weeks, much of humanity was overrun by relentless hordes of infected zombies. Governments were overwhelmed trying to contain the outbreak as zombies smashed through defences and overran cities. Society itself teetered on the brink of collapse.

Fortunately, NATO and the EU had already played out such disasters in simulation games. The four-year ‘Rise of the Dead’ war game in cooperation with the Vienna Military University proved to be extremely helpful in acting quickly and decisively.

Here in Germany we managed to withstand the initial zombie onslaught, despite being completely surprised and unprepared for such an unconventional attack. Thanks to our full disclose policy the public at first reacted with reluctance and disbelief, but quickly adopted and supported the often drastic measures. Our police and health authorities effectively took initial countermeasures, highly trained and disciplined, our forces held the line through the first days and held back the zombie hordes through courage, innovation and self-sacrifice when defeat seemed imminent.

But only the clearance of the military to operate within our own borders and the permission to neutralize infected citizens allowed us to get the initiative again. Bundeswehr Operations Command (EinsFüKdoBw) Potsdam had to evacuate towards camp Beelitz and re-established contact with Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE) shortly after. The spearhead force of the Very High Readiness Joint Task Force (VJTF) as well as the Initial Follow On Forces Group (IFFG) reacted with outstanding performance but lack of material and disruption in transport slowed the deployment of the Response Forces Pool (RFP) to a crawl. In total, less than 120,000 of 300,000 NATO Response Force (NRF) ground troops were operational, spread across much of Europe. From these around 23.000 were in position to support local police. In addition (EinsFüKdoBw) managed to rally 76 additional local companies but isolated from higher command structures and plagued by lacklustre supply and equipment. These often formed ad hoc structures with reservists, civilian gun shops, shooting ranges, rescue services, forming makeshift battalions.

In hindsight we must point out the support of local businesses and municipal services in the relocation of EinsFüKdoBw with civilian vehicles. This saved precious hours and saved thousands of lives.

Our call for volunteers did not yield the desired forces, so the government declared a national state of emergency and conscripted citizens to maintain public order, health and basic services. This made it possible for the police, military, reservists and volunteer corps to focus on capture, hold and control operations.

As these actions included several formal violation of the constitution, we strongly suggest an amnesty of the government by the parliament through a legislative bill due to apocalyptic circumstances. Another problem is the use of infected victims for medical experiments. Although it is controversial if these are still sentient human beings, we must urgently advise a review, also in view of similar experiments in our shameful Nazi past.

Casualties were high, but Germany fared better than many allies who descended into chaos, especially nations already dealing with disorder or conflict. Desperate survivors fled to bordering countries perceived as safe, often bringing the same plague with them they tried to run from. This placed intense pressure on Germany to sealing borders, despite humanitarian concerns. Again, the numerous dead from denying refuge must be reviewed in the near future.

Things looked grim as SHAPE lost contact to CENTCOM. The United States, the most important ally of the European Union, lost the chain of command for a couple of days as internal vigilantism unleashed unexpected chaos among US citizens. Thankfully cool heads prevailed and restructured command and troops and made contact to SHAPE after nine days again.

Now, three months later, the zombie outbreak appears contained here and across most of Europe, thanks to the bravery and persistence of our forces. Pockets of zombie resistance persist, but 98% of infected humans are estimated neutralized. Vigilance remains necessary, but Europe seems to have survived humanity's greatest existential trial since the Second World War.

For Germany in particular, we judge the zombie crisis to be sufficiently managed at present for cautious stand-down of crisis emergency measures. Our borders can soon partially reopen to allow controlled refugee processing and essential trade. Domestic security restrictions can phase to lower alert levels as well. The nation must transition focus to economic, political and societal recovery.

Internationally, Europe must also now shift priorities from immediate zombie containment to addressing broader upheaval caused by the outbreak. Three priority areas are evident:

1. Strengthening European unity and cohesion after a crisis that sorely tested it.

2. Assisting fragile states elsewhere, especially in the developing world, whose collapse would further destabilize the global order.

3. Asserting Atlantic leadership during a power vacuum created by the breakdown of rules, cooperation and institutions.

Regarding European unity, scepticism toward EU institutions and fellow members undermined early coordinated response when it was needed most. Countries reflexively closed borders, hoarded resources, and pursued unilateral strategies that left allies feeling abandoned. We must learn from this failure and improve mechanisms for collective crisis response.

Germany should support this reform effort by calling for an emergency EU summit to develop legal frameworks for expedited joint-military operations, shared resource allocation, and centralized strategic decision-making during severe cross-border crises. The goal must be empowering collective institutions to make and enforce rules protecting the entire bloc, even over objections from individual members.

Secondly, state collapse in developing regions creates immense humanitarian tragedy and strategic risk. We must urgently provide aid and support to fragile states ravaged by the zombie onslaught and lacking resources for recovery. This includes deployment of military forces for security, public health assistance, and infrastructure reconstruction. Participation in these stabilization efforts will serve our values and national interests.

Looking beyond Europe, the global power vacuum is extremely concerning. As major powers focused internally, traditional geopolitical constraints evaporated. Conflict erupted in the Middle East, Asia, and Africa absent international mediation. Stockpiles of weapons and resources were raided by malicious opportunistic actors. Weak states fell, creating massive outbreaks of zombiefication. Several developing nations and most of their population must be considered completely lost.

Germany should press for emergency sessions of NATO, EU, and UN Security Council to coordinate restoring order. We must reassert our alliances and defend the principles of territorial sovereignty, human rights, and rule of law while adversaries attempt to impose authoritarian models and whole civilizations are literally consumed by Zombies. This will require collective security commitments between trusted allies.

In conclusion, Germany has gotten away with a black eye while surviving the zombie scourge. But new complex challenges have arisen from the ashes that require urgent attention. This briefing outlines recommendations on seizing this historic moment to strengthen European bonds, assist vulnerable allies, and reinforce the resilient democratic values that saved us from annihilation. With sufficient vision and leadership, Germany can help to rebuild international order and contain the dangers still lurking in shadowy corners, as we beat back the zombies from our cities and villages. We must stay vigilant, but hope remains in our hearts.

...

Transcript 02

TOP SECRET/OPERATIONAL ORDER

To: All NATO Forces

From: NATO SHAPE Headquarters, Mons, Belgium

Subject: Operation "RECLAIM ANTWERPEN"

SITUATION:

Antwerpen has been overrun by large hordes of zombies. Critical infrastructure and supply lines through the port have been disrupted. NATO must retake Antwerpen to reopen this vital port and transportation hub.

Multi-national NATO forces are still recovering and reassessing personnel and equipment losses from earlier zombie engagements. Participating NATO countries have volunteered forces to retake Antwerpen as follows:

• Belgium: 1st Battalion Paracommando Brigade staging in Brussels

• France: 3rd Marine Infantry Parachute Regiment staging in Lille

• France: Escadron de Chasse 2/30, staging in Colmar-Meyenheim

• France: 9th Battery, 40th Artillery Regiment, staging in Dunkerque

• Germany: 5th Battery, 131st Artillery Regiment staging in Aachen

• Germany: 291st Jäger Battalion staging in Eindhoven

• Netherlands: 11th Airmobile Brigade staging in Eindhoven

• US: 2nd Cavalry Regiment, Stryker Brigade staging in Chièvres Air Base

MISSION:

NATO will conduct offensive operations beginning on [RETRACTED] to retake Antwerpen from zombie forces.

EXECUTION:

Manoeuvre: Belgian forces will attack north seizing zombie-held areas around the port. Dutch forces will attack east to isolate the city. German forces will attack south to block potential zombie movements. US cavalry Regiment will provide QRF, targeting large zombie formations. French ground and air reserves are on standby.

Fire support: French and German artillery units will fire precision strikes against zombie strong-points. Naval gunfire from Royal Navy ships off the coast will provide additional fire support.

Protection: All forces will maintain disciplinary fire to avoid friendly casualties. US Stryker brigade will act as quick reaction force to counterattack zombie breakthroughs. Engineers will repair bridges and roads to maintain mobility.

Sustainment: Each country will provide national-level logistics support. Medical support will be coordinated by Belgian forces in Brussels.

COMMAND/SIGNAL: Headquarters SHAPE will command overall operation with national contingents retaining tactical control. Communications will utilize NATO classified channels.

Godspeed, soldiers.

---

Addendum 1:

Local civilian informants played a crucial role in scouting the area around Antwerpen prior to the military operation. By gathering intelligence on zombie movements and numbers, as well as identifying potential survivor holdouts, these brave informants provided critical insights that allowed forces to avoid dangerous areas and rescue trapped civilians. Their efforts scoping the battlefield proved invaluable.

Addendum 2:

A resourceful local farmer aided coalition forces using an ingeniously modified combined harvester. By outfitting the vehicle with a harvester header, the farmer was able to mow down scores of zombies with ease. His modified harvester enabled rapid clearance of hordes, paving the way for coalition troops to retake Antwerpen. The farmer's clever innovation and bravery were key factors in the operation's success and should be looked into by NATO Allied Command Transformation (ACT). If I may say so, beware of farmers with tractors, they are subtle and quick to anger.

...

Transcript 04

A video, most likely filmed from the perspective of a hidden camera attached to Putin’s FSB body guard.

Putin is sitting in his office in the Kremlin with Shoigu. Suddenly Putin turns to Shoigu with glassy, unfocused eyes.

Putin (zombie voice): I need brains. Must eat brains.

Putin lunges at Shoigu and bites into his head. Shoigu collapses to the ground.

Several Agents and Kremlin officials rush in.

Official 1 (scared): President Putin has become a zombie!

Official 2 (angry): This is an outrage! Putin can no longer lead Russia in this state.

FSB Agent (arrogant): How dare you criticize the President! He is still our supreme leader. You are under arrest!

Putin shambles around the room, blood dripping from his mouth.

Putin (zombie voice): I am leader of all zombies. Give me brains!

The officials argue about who should donate his brain next while Putin devours one after the other. When no one is left the FSB agent defects to the west and sells the recording to CNN.

The troll factories of St. Petersburg are trying to spin the story that Putin did not become a zombie, that this is a lie from the decadent West, that their beloved leader instead just wants to fully savour the minds of his people.

---

Meanwhile near Bakhmut, Zelenskyy is watching footage of the Kremlin scene on his phone.

Zelenskyy (ice cold, grim voice): I'm not even surprised.

Zelenskyy puts on his earbuds, listening to ‘Judas Priest Painkiller’, grabs a chainsaw and starts fighting off Russian zombies alongside Ash Williams, Alice Abernathy, Daryl Dixon, Tallahassee and Cherry Darling, defending the hills over Bakhmut.

...

Transcript 05

Excerpt from r/jokes and r/ukraine:

Why did nobody realize Putin was a zombie? Because he had been dead inside for years.

Why did Putin's speeches start sounding more disjointed and zombie-like?

Because he was trying to appeal to his undead base.

Why did Putin suddenly start wearing sunglasses all the time?

Because his eyes were now permanently bloodshot from all the brain-eating.

Why did Putin's enemies stop calling him a dictator?

Because they thought he was now just a "dead-tator".

Why did Putin get kicked out of the zombie club? Because he kept trying to annex their territories.

Why did Putin's zombie followers start to lose faith in him?

Because he kept insisting on a "one brain, one vote" policy.

Why did Putin's doctor never realize he was a zombie?

Because he always had a pulse...on his political opponents.

Why did Putin's chef never realize Putin became a zombie?

Because he always has asked for his steak "rare and bloody".

Why did Putin's zombie meet with Zelenskyy? To ask if Ukraine had a brains-for-oil program.

Why did Putin's zombie meet with Zelenskyy?

To suggest a new horror movie plot: "Zombie President vs. Comedian-in-Chief".

Why did Putin's zombie meet with Lukaschenka?

To discuss the possibility of a joint invasion of "Brainland".

Why did Putin become a zombie?

Because he thought it would be a great way to "reanimate" his political career.

Why did Putin become a zombie?

Because he realized that he could finally eat his opponents' brains legally.

Why did Putin become a zombie?

To prove that he's not afraid to "sink his teeth" into the tough issues facing Russia.

...

Transcript 13

The evening News from TaiwanTV with Yeh Chou!

China's brave scientists are working day and night to find an antidote to the zombie virus that is threatening to overrun the mainland. Two million Chinese citizens turn into zombies every day, but China's leaders refuse to use the proven German antidote.

According to government officials, the German solution developed by those arrogant long-noses would be a loss of face for China. Instead, Chinese scientists are experimenting with traditional herbal remedies and acupuncture to stop the zombie plague. So far there have been no reports of success.

Meanwhile here in Taiwan, we have rolled out a massive and efficient vaccination program using the German antidote. Thanks to well-organized distribution and lines that move quickly, Taiwanese citizens have showed their patriotism by lining up en masse to get the zombie shot.

Experts forecast that at this rapid pace, the entire Taiwanese population may be immune to the zombie virus within two months! Our economy has not suffered any major disruptions due to zombie outbreaks and civil unrest. Life goes on as normal here in Taiwan.

It seems China's pride may cost them dearly as the zombie outbreak rages on unchecked. Perhaps they should swallow their national ego and get the proven vaccine before most of their citizens become the walking dead! Only time will tell if China's ancient herbal cures can compete with modern science in the fight against this zombie apocalypse. Stay tuned to TaiwanTV for further humorous commentary on China's noble but potentially disastrous zombie experiment!

...

Transcript 14

COSMIC TOP SECRET/STRATEGIC OVERVIEW

To: NATO Council

From: NATO Military Committee

Subject: Strategic Overview of the world wide zombie outbreak

SITUATION:

The global zombie outbreak continues to spread but some regions have managed to contain the situation.

North America, Western Europe, Australia and New Zealand have implemented successful defences through vaccination and military operations.

Japan and South Korea, with assistance from U.S. and Taiwanese forces, have pushed back large numbers of North Korean zombies apparently deployed deliberately by the Kim regime.

Columbia remains the last organized holdout in South America withstanding zombie hordes from the southern parts of the continent with support incoming from Canada, Mexico and the US by the hour.

Africa has been completely overrun, with zombie numbers in the hundreds of millions ravaging the continent. EU and Arab coalition forces have established strongholds at the narrow land bridge to the Arabian subcontinent.

The situation in Asia is deteriorating rapidly. Only pockets of resistance remain as zombie numbers climb.

Ukraine, Belarus, and the Kaliningrad region have joined the NATO council and are helping Russian separatist forces to defend St. Petersburg from millions of zombies moving from Central Asia toward NATO borders. Russian President Putin still appears to be in power in much of Russia, even though rumours suggest that he got some weird appetite while his health is visibly deteriorating.

Africa has experienced a total breakdown of civilization and must be considered a lost cause beyond any hope of recovery due to the sheer size of zombie populations.

The use of nuclear weapons is no longer rejected given the hundreds of millions of zombies posing an existential threat. Precision strategic strikes may be necessary to neutralize zombie hordes in key locations.

In summary, the global situation remains dire. While some regions have stabilized through vaccination and military force, zombie numbers continue to climb in Parts of Asia, most of South America and Africa. Containment will require an international coalition effort utilizing all means necessary.

While some progress has been made containing the initial zombie outbreak, we must recognize this crisis is far from over and likely to escalate further in the coming months. We have only a limited time to prepare for the worst.

MISSION:

We demand a massive increase in wartime industrial production to supply our military forces. Makeshift militias must be incorporated into regular support units and mandatory conscription of all able-bodied adults up to two years is strongly recommended.

A coordinated international effort must urgently ramp up scientific research and technology development to fight the zombie virus at its source. This includes more effective vaccines, antiviral treatments, and detection methods.

The construction of additional crematoriums and disposal facilities is critical to destroy the bodies of neutralized zombies and eliminate the risk of further infection.

No country has been spared from this plague. We have already suffered millions of casualties worldwide:

• No reliable Numbers for China and Russia due to complete news blackout.

• At least one billion dead in Africa, possibly a complete extinction event.

• 300 million dead in Asia, possibly much higher, large pocket resistance holding out

• 100 million dead in South America, possibly much higher, disorganized resistance holding out

• 45 million dead in North America

• 35 million dead in Europa outside Russia

• less than 100,000 dead in Australia, New Zealand, Taiwan, Japan.

These numbers will continue to climb exponentially without drastic and coordinated global action. We are in a race against time. Nations must come together, putting aside differences, to mount a full scale war effort against the zombie horde threatening to consume humanity.

We at NATO pledge to work with all allies willing to do whatever is necessary to defend life and civilization itself. The hardest days lie ahead, but with unity of purpose and relentless resolve, we can prevail.

Now is the time for mankind to look danger in the eye, stand as one, and fight for our very survival as a species. The alternative is too horrific to contemplate. The fate of humanity rests upon our collective response in the coming months. We must rise to this challenge with courage, conviction and unrelenting will.

EXECUTION:

• Coordinate shipments of industrial materials and supplies between member nations to avoid bottlenecks and shortages. Joint Support Enabling Command (JSEC) can identify which countries have surplus production capacity of key materials and match them with countries that need those materials.

• Provide funding and incentives for businesses to rapidly expand production lines for critical military equipment like armoured vehicles, body armour, weapons, ammunition, communication devices, and medical supplies. Allied Command Acquisition (ACA) can identify which companies have the ability to scale up fastest and prioritize contracts.

• National temporarily relax regulations around work hours, shift lengths, and hiring to allow businesses to operate at maximum output. The pro-Western allies can also coordinate the sharing of skilled labour between countries.

• Invest in automation and modernization of production facilities to maximize output. The allies can share and optimize research and development funds to provide grants for businesses to upgrade factories and incorporate things like robotics and 3D printing.

• Provide grants and funding for scientific research related to understanding and combating the zombie virus. This includes research into the virus's origin, spread, genetic makeup, and potential cures or treatments. The WHO can coordinate a consortium of scientists and researchers from member nations.

• Organize collaboration between pharmaceutical companies, biotech startups, government research agencies and universities to accelerate development of antiviral drugs, vaccines and diagnostic tests. The WHO can facilitate sharing of data, resources and intellectual property.

• Construct new research laboratories, provide additional funding and expedite approvals/permits for research projects with potential to combat the outbreak. The WHO leadership must make combating the virus the top scientific priority.

...

Transcript 15

The sweltering African sun beat down unforgivingly as Kudzo and Akosua walked, hand in hand, along the dusty road. Kudzo looked at Akosua with a smile as they spotted the border to the Arabian Peninsula, the towering fortifications already visible in the distance, a feeling of hope in the air.

Akosua returned the smile but suddenly she caught a glims of movement!

"Kudzo, over there!"

Dozens of rotting, cadaverous figures were staggering behind them, flesh hanging in decaying tatters from their bones.

"Run for your life!" Kudzo cried as the young couple took flight towards the towering fortifications in the distance.

As they fled, the horde of zombies grew inevitably, becoming hundreds, then thousands, maybe millions, filling the horizon like a swarm of pestilence liquid flesh. Akosua was already exhausted from the arduous journey, close to breaking down, dragged along by Kudzo.

Reaching the fortress walls, they begged the soldiers above to let them in, the horde closing in fast. For precious seconds nothing happened, most soldiers just turned away, avoiding their pledge. But finally an officer saw their youth and ordered for the gates to be opened, violating standing orders.

Only a moment before the couple was overrun by the rotten horde the soldiers unleashed a storm of bullets from their fortifications, cutting down masses of zombies. Yet more kept coming, an endless tide of corruption.

Kudzo and Akosua slipped through the gates as a few zombies followed, bringing Kudzo to fall, biting into his flesh as Akosua screamed a cry of anguish that rent the very heavens.

Quickly some soldiers rushed over and slaughtered the zombies with knifes and bayonets while the gates swung shut, sealing out damnation.

A summoned medic gazed upon Kudzo's ravaged body, while tears like crystal raindrops streamed down Akosua's cheeks. "He'll become one of them!" she sobbed broken-heartedly.

The medic applied several injections at the bleeding Kudzo, tended his wounds.

“We know how to handle this. We got the meds and a field hospital not far from here. And he is a tough fighter."

Meanwhile, the battle outside escalated, the sound of guns atop the wall became a never-ending storm of din. But when it suddenly stopped everybody knew the worst was yet to come, an alarm siren wailed its doleful song.

"Protective nuclear strike!" the medic screamed! Suddenly everybody began running, the soldiers jumped from the wall, hurried and fumbled into bunkers and trenches.

The medic pulled Kudzo and Akosua into an crudely dug underground cave as the ground trembled from nuclear hate just outside the wall, the bright light shadowing over the wall into the sky over-shining the very sun, shattering their world.

After what seemed like eternity, the shaking subsided. The medic forced a grin. "Sorry about the little nuclear war outside. I'm Rajab. And you?"

Akosua began to weep bitter tears anew. "I'm Akosua. This is Kudzo. Are there other survivors?"

Rajab smile faded. He gazed sorrowfully at Kudzo's wounds then at Akosua's tear-stained face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "You were the only ones for weeks and what came in your wake robs me of all hope. I wish there was more I could do to ease your mind. But at least you are alive. And by Allah the Almighty, I will give my best to keep your friend alive too."

...

Transcript 16

Six years later. John Stilton sits outside his little wooden hut in the middle of nowhere, enjoying a little moon shine from a plastic bottle.

“Look at that… haven’t seen any Stinker for two years..” he mumbled as a pale creatures stumbled aimlessly towards him. He pulled his 45er out of his holster and took aim.

“Hold it John!” the spindly creature wailed “It is me, Bob Fraser. Did we win?”

John held the gun upwards and secured it, not believing his own eyes for a moment.

“What do you mean with ‘did we win’? Have you been living under a rock? Where have you been all these years?”

Bob falls into the chair next to John. John nonchalantly offers him the plastic bottle with the moon shine. Bob took a big swig, he found words again.

“I have been hiding after Chicago fell. I had a bunker and I had guns and food and shit… I ran out of food a week ago. What happened? Did the government collapse? Who is ruling the world now? What happened?”

John looked angry a Bob.

“You hid in a fucking hole and let others do the dirty work? Fuck you Bob. You are an asshole. We others stood together, we stood tall. We fought, we bleed, we suffered. But we prevailed! Nothing collapsed. It was the very foundations our ancestors build which kept us afloat. It was our allies sharing their wisdom, It was brave men and woman defending the weak. Together.”

John turned to Bob, glared at the dull pale creature next to him, the creature which looked more like a zombie than a breathing human.

“BOB WE FUCKING WON AFTER TWO YEARS. And you fucking hid in a dirty little hole shitting your pants for another four years. You are a spineless idiot.”

Bob remained silent. Took another swig from the bottle and nodded.

“How has live been for you?” wondered Bob.

“Been stationed at Columbia for half a year. Shooting Stinkers for a while, taking care of survivors. Later my Battalion moved down the south coast, supplying resistance pockets, down to Tierra del Fuego. A beautiful wild land. Met my future son-in-law down there. He he joined us, we became good friends, after we were done south he stood at my house for half a year, getting his feet back on the ground. He wooed my daughter, returned to Tierra del Fuego, started a new life with my daughter down there. He still shots Stinkers from time to time but his cattle farm is doing well. A very solitude life though, not many survived in the South.”

“How bad was it?”

“Billions. Billions dead. Africa has been practically sterilized and is resettled by Arabs and Europeans. The European Union is now claiming a third of Africa and a third of Russia. South America has still millions of Zombies hidden in the Amazonas, no one dares to venture there. Half of the population dead, no nation structures existing any more, lots of settlers pouring in from North- and Middle-America, claiming the empty lands and declaring new nations. Central Asia, Russia, most of China, half of India gone. The Europeans and Chinese nearly went nuclear about the Siberian oil fields. In the end some Russian warlords had stolen enough nukes to be taken serious and claimed Siberia and gathered around 500.000 remaining Russkis around them.

The rest of the territory is free to grab for the first settlers. Most interestingly even Chinese settlers align to the EU. Not much love for a Chinese government refusing to use a perfectly good vaccine for stupid reasons. Oh, and the US put up some military outposts and claims around Kamchatka. No one wants to live there but better have and not need than need and not have. All in all the death toll was brutal. But now… so many opportunities. I mean a third of the world is now free to grab. Most tyrants and oligarchs collapsed. Whatever is left nowadays are the hardcore die-hard who know the value of having a trusted mate protecting your back. The economy is bustling, there are good jobs everywhere.”

“But you are staying here in the Rockies?”

“Guess so. I am 65. I’ll just enjoy my last days with good booze and fresh game in the wonderful Rockies. How about you?”

“Is my farm still around?”

“Nope. You have been considered dead and it was torn down. But I guess if you go south you will easily find an abandoned Hacienda somewhere in Argentine. You are still young enough to start anew. Are you 50? 51? How about marrying again?”

“Something like that. Too bad I wasted so much time hiding in a hole.”

“Bob?”

“Yes?”

“I am happy you are still alive, mate.”

Authors notes

These texts resulted from a discussion with a misanthropic prepper (“when the apocalypse comes I hide in my basement with my gun and tons of canned food”) and a writing prompt I came over a couple of weeks before. I don’t claim it is something special, I just did it because I was in the mood.

I used the topic to experiment with AI-supported writing. Either I let AI improve my texts or I gave the AI very long and elaborated prompts to generate the text. That way I wanted to test how I could use different writing styles. Still around 50% of the text is hand made or heavily edited AI content. As may be obvious I also used different models and infrastructure prompts. To my surprise the list of Putin jokes is 100% ChatGPT and still funny.

I could have done it without ChatGPT but it would have taken a lot longer and it allowed me to try out LOTS OF different aspects, locations, writing styles, drama, humour, scientific analysis, military briefing, whatever… all in just four hours of writing. And it was an interesting experience, I might from now on always use AI at least for quality assurance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

Officer Kertrek, Long range Sensor Station 2.

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

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

"What?"

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

"Didn't Senkrat get the thousandth?"

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

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

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

"The fuck is planet size?"

"Too big for moon!"

"There's no upper limit for moon!"

"Radius of over 6000km?"

"Fuck! That large? Guess that works."

"Great, now let.. Oh no."

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, I'm good."

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

"Ugh. Thanks."

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

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

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

"Are you done?"

"You want to hear more?"

"No."

"Then yes."

"Great."

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

---

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

Part 1 | Part 2

Entry Sixteen

I suppose the entry before this must seem quite hysterical. It was not the numbers alone which disturbed me, and the others of the delegation. The human ambassador told me once that “necessity is the mother of invention.” These people need a means of controlling their population so badly that the first thing some of us did when we returned to privacy was propose that they be given a working FTL drive and the coordinates of a world they could inhabit and we could not.

Of course the Ambassador rejected that foolishness. I approve. What unnerved me so deeply was that the humans seem to be capable of surviving so much that we could not. I do not, of course, speak of solar radiation. A little extra stellar radiation could be compensated. These, however, are a warlike people. That was my impression when first we met, and my opinion has not wavered.

Yet, they coexist in tight groups in most of their population centers, their colonies were made of a mix of people that their nature states they could not tolerate, and their culture overcomes fractious divides so fast…we nearly kill them off, and then, not sixty days after the event, those who continue to demand that we suffer retribution are labeled – OPENLY! – by their leaders as deluded. If these people had developed FTL drives on their own, we would have met them on the edges of our own territory, I am sure. We would have met as friends. But we would have met as equals, when we are currently not. I should not be so disturbed by that thought. Yet I am.

Entry Seventeen

Two hundred seventy days gone by. The human ambassador has become more and more reluctant to divulge information about his own people to us, even as he shows us around his homeworld and pours more and more data about his species into our computers, for our analysts to devour.

He answers every question we ask him, yet he divulges less and less in the way of specifics. Oddly enough, he actually seems far more relaxed in our presence than he was when we met. He showed up in a completely different set of clothing than the type he usually wears today, lacking the odd cloth around his neck. I wonder why?

Entry Eighteen

We returned to Earth today, and I am far more impressed this time than I let myself be last time. The human ambassador this time took us to what seems to be a site of great importance to his people: a building in one of their largest cities called the UN Headquarters.

The building, I mean, not the city. We spoke to a panel of two hundred human ambassadors, each representing a human nation or extra-planetary colony. We answered questions, and had our images captured by their media, through a very thick-looking defensive device. When I asked why we were being defended, the human ambassador’s aide told me that it was for our own protection from those humans who did not appreciate our presence here as much as they should.

I was touched by this, though apparently this is not at all unusual. We spoke to many of these diplomats, and I came away with the feeling that many had wanted to ask far more questions than they had been able to, out of a sense of propriety. Our own Ambassador told me that he thought it was to prevent any sort of insult, but I was not sure. Some of the human ambassadors seemed outright angry at our presence, and several were apparently restrained from outburst only by their peers’ angry gestures.

I think it has something to do with the nearly groveling request the human chief ambassador gave to us on the very first day: not to even decrypt, let alone translate, a single one of the millions of messages sent to our ship, directly or otherwise, that did not bear his signature.

Entry Nineteen

Three hundred solar days have passed since the humans replied to our communications. We hold meetings on their planet as often as we do in space now. I am pleased by this, in all honestly. There is a strange appeal to these people that was simply not there when we first met. One particularly unguarded conversation with a human diplomatic aide produced an interesting result.

The young woman said that she and many others were raised on fiction involving humanity playing the defender against unexplained or meaningless alien invasion, or playing the victim of some horrible, incomprehensible force of destruction, and the thought that life beyond their own system would be friendly and share the virtue of self-sacrifice was a vast relief. I had never considered this.

Most species in this galaxy, we find, are very open with us immediately, or at least after a very brief period of distrust. These people did not trust us beyond discussion until we had offered our lives to save their planet, yet it seemed that we had achieved more in that act of proposed sacrifice than we had realized. These humans do, however, place too much emphasis on propriety for the sake of propriety.

I do hope this woman does not come to reprimand because of our entirely unofficial exchange. The ambassador of the humans has certainly been making more and more of an effort to control what we see and hear of these people the more time we spend with them.

Entry Twenty

I understand fully now why the human ambassador was trying to restrict our communications. The ship’s crew, not a part of our diplomatic efforts, have been covertly compiling and translating vast amounts of the messages directed to our ship, without our approval.

We have been exposed to their indirect communications, of course – we discovered them through the presence of their first radio transmissions, after all – and we have tapped their system-wide information networks, but the unauthorized communications directed to us, specifically, have been politely ignored and untranslated, thanks almost entirely to the human ambassador’s fervent pleas.

The crew of the ship, however, have found that some of these signals contain messages of such hate and vitriol, such murderous rage and terrorized accusations, that had I not spent over three hundred local days immersing myself in their culture, I could have mistaken it for a declaration of war. The human ambassador has much to answer for.

---

To be continued...

Part 1 | Part 2

Thanks to u/Prohibitorum for original transcription. Original Image

Chapter 1

Deedra opened her eyes slowly, eyelids still heavy from sleeping. It was the dream she just had, that woke her. It was not a bad dream, just… strange. She had seen herself being held by a man in battered golden armour. The man didn’t seem familiar to her, but his eyes reminded her of her fathers, deep warm brown, filled with kindness and compassion.

The family common room was covered in pre-dawn darkness, only faint light coming in through the window behind her, ever so slightly illuminating the room.

She rolled over in her bed, facing the window, looking out into the sky. The clouds on the horizon had begun turning purple, signalling the coming of Zul’tekt, the Great Lifegiver, giving them another warm day.

She lay there, thinking of the stories her father often had told her about the great battle, Zul’Tekt had fought, to be able to serve the people below him, to bring them life and light. How he won with the help of his sisters, Gel’Tekt and Mun’Tekt, who now gives soft light at night to the people below them. Gel’Tekt had been badly burned, according to the story, which was why she had a red face. But her red face was supposed to bestow eternal love, if lovers kissed beneath her face, when she looked directly at them, fully round. Deedra wondered often if her parents had kissed in her full view of them.

A large shadow moved past the window, blocking her view of the sky for a brief second, breaking her drowsy state.

“Ballock,” she whispered with a smile “You’re awake early too, I see…”

The Scraw-bear her father had rescued a little over 8 years ago, would often go into the forest to forage, just when day would be turning to night, and then return some time during the night to sleep in the barn. She saw him as her brother, having grown up together, playing and running through the meadows. He always won ofcourse, given his six powerful legs.

Deedra could vaguely remember the day her father came home with him, so tiny he was, not much more than skin and bones. She could however, clearly remember how angry her mother had been with him, not wanting him to bring such a dangerous animal into their home, near their daughter.

He found the tiny cub, deep in the forest while looking for wild seeds. He was cuddled up against the dead mother, having died in a trap someone had set. Now, though, she loved him just as much as the rest of the family.

He was smart as a whip too. Had taken all the training her father put him to, like a fish learning to swim and now helping with ploughing, hauling, hunting and even playing hide and seek with her!

Deedra slowly slid out from under her covers and let her bare feet touch the cold floor, sending a shiver through her body. Sitting up, she wiped the sleep out from her eyes, while letting her feet find her boots, so she could get this day started.

After pulling her boots all the way on, she got up and went over to the hearth, holding out a hand over the firepit. It still radiated heat. Hoping she had a bit of luck with her, she bent down and gently blew on the ashes, making some embers flare up.

Happy that she would not have to use the flint and steel to make a fire, she drew out some kindling from the basket next to the hearth, as to give the fire something to feed on, before placing two pieces of dry wood on top of the flames.

Heavy breathing and the sound of sniffing coming from the outer door drew her attention. Ballock was aware that she was awake.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming to say goodmorning to you.” she whispered with a chuckle, taking two handfuls of dried berries from a jar on the counter, next to the hearth, one of which she stuffed into her mouth.

Having barely unlatched the door, it was pushed open by the big head of the Scraw-bear, his spiralled horns having made more scratches in the wood. He happily greeted her with a big wet snout to her face. He had become too big to enter fully, but would still put his whole head in, whenever the door was open. He loved to be as close to them as possible.

“Mammi is gonna be mighty mad at you for keeping making marks in her door” she whispered to him, while giving him a scratch along the scruff of his neck and putting the berry-filled hand into his mouth, where she let them go and withdrew her hand, so he could swallow them in one gulp.

“Did you have an exciting night?” she asked him softly, while wiping the saliva off her hand in her nightgown.

The morning air was brisk around her exposed legs, but forewarned that it would be a hot day. Perfect for harvesting the last Sulni-flowers and drying them.

She really enjoyed the tea Master Fremdon, Master Tea Maker in town, made with them. Sulni-flowers being the main ingredient, he got most of his supply from them so they made a fine living here.

Sulni flowers were notoriously hard to cultivate and farm, mostly growing in the wild, but those with the will, knowledge and luck could get them to grow. The flower itself was white as snow, with five long petals and a red centre, drawing in insects with its sweet scent, which would be trapped and devoured by the plant. Deedra would often spend time among them, enjoying their sweet aroma.

Her father had built a wind powered construct to speed up the drying process, so they did not need to let them lay out in the sun for several days, like others that managed to grow the flowers. She had heard rumours in town that some used magic to speed it up, but had never met anyone who could do that. She really wanted to meet someone who could do that.

The creaking of the door to her parents room caught her ear and she looked to see her father entering the common room.

“You’re up early.” her father whispered loudly, as he closed the door behind him.

“‘Morning pappi” she greeted him, giving Ballock a last squeeze, before going over to her father to give him a hug too. Her head only reached up to the middle of his stomach and her hands could almost touch behind him. He stooped over to hug her back and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You hungry?” he asked her, letting go of her and ruffling her long brown hair. She had inherited his hair. Thick, strong and boring brown, she thought. At least she had been blessed with her mothers beautiful eyes.

She hated when he made a mess of her hair like that and started to comb it with her fingers as best she could.

“Yes, a bit.” she answered, as he went over to the hearth, where he took down a cauldron from a hook and hung it over the low-burning fire. He then grabbed more wood to get the fire going strong.

“Is mammi all right?” Deedra asked her father, as she removed her nightgown and boots to change into her clothing. “I heard her scream in the middle of the night.”

“Yes, yes, just a bad dream…” her father reassured her. “Will you go fetch a bucket of milk when you have changed?”

A bit later, they were all sitting together, eating a hearty breakfast consisting of porridge, bread, eggs and some smoked meat. Her mother had dark furrows under her eyes, but she still looked as beautiful as a newly blossomed wild rose, with her raven-black hair, fair skin and emerald green eyes, that smiled at them both, full of love.

They were talking about the things they had to get done today, crops to harvest and equipment to check for tomorrow, when Deedra would go to the market, all by herself for the first time. She was very excited about it, but also a bit nervous. The 1 hour long journey into town was safe, but there were always many more people in town during market day and she had always had her father to lean on in case of uncertainties. At least she would have Ballock to protect her, if anyone tried anything.

Last month, she had done all the haggling instead of her father, with him watching over her, and had shown great aptitude for it, not letting anyone get the better of her. The price for the Sulni-flowers had already been arranged, so she would not have to worry about that. Master Fremdon had been by 10 days ago to evaluate the flowers and her father and he had agreed to 2 silver per pound of dried flowers and 6 pounds of tea, once it was done, which should last them for at least until next year.

“I think the harvest this year will bring in more than enough to buy the materials to build your own room, Dee” her father said to her “maybe even an addition for Ballock, so he does not have to sleep in the barn, all alone.”

“Wrenrik!” Her mother said to him, “I love him just as much as you, but he is NOT getting a room inside the house. He will make a mess of things! Not much worse than you, of course…” she ended, smiling at him.

Wrenrik stopped mid-motion taking a spoonful of porridge, putting it slowly back in the bowl, just staring at her. Then, swift for a man his size, he was out of his seat, got behind her, tickling her and ‘scolding’ her for saying he was a messy person. She screamed in laughter, trying to fight back. “So I make a mess of things, eh?” he said laughing, trying to kiss her neck, which made her scream with laughter all the more.

Deedra got up and tried to save her mother from this onslaught of tickling, but they were no match for him. With an unwilling kick from her mothers legs, they all wound up rolling around on the floor, laughing, food spilled across the table and some on the floor.

He took them both into his embrace and hugged them and kissed them.

“I love you both so much that I would fade away in an instant if I lost you” he said to them.

—

It had been a hard day's work, but everything was ready for tomorrow. The cart was filled to the brim with baskets and crates. 34 baskets alone for Master Fremdon alone took up the majority of the space, 12 pounds each, but also a wide selection of other vegetables and herbs to sell.

Deedra had been exhausted, as her father carried her on his shoulders back to the house, after finishing up, Zul’Tekt low on the sky, but still beaming down light and warmth.

Her mother had drawn her a warm bath, which she went into with delight, enjoying the soothing warm water. Deedra wanted to spend more time in the bath, but she was tired and crawled out of the warm water and into the soft embrace of her mother, who was holding a blanket ready for her.

After quickly drying off and putting on her freshly washed nightgown, she went over to her father, who sat in front of the hearth, humming songs. He lifted her up onto his lap, where she leaned into his chest and looked at the fire with him.

“Pappi? Will you tell me the story of the evil witch and the kind soldier that saved her?” she asked, ending with a yawn.

“That old story?” he said, chuckling “I must have told you that one at least a hundred times by now. I know you know it by heart.”

“But it is much better when you tell it” she protested softly, yawning once again.

Giving her a soft kiss on the top of her still wet hair, he started the tale. “Long ago, in a land far away, there lived an evil witch Or at least, many found her to be evil. She ruled a cursed land that none dared venture into, called The Winter Marshes. Many a king had sent vast armies to her door to vanquish her, but none could, all of them fell to her unparalleled magic.

So strong was she, that she could even command the dead, raising them to become her own army, sending back the dead soldiers to where they came from.”

“I think I will retire to the bed,” Deedra’s mother said, putting a log of wood on the fire, then kissing her cheek. “Sleep well, my little blessing.” she said, as she left them and closed the door behind her.

“Please, pappi, tell me more.” Deedra said, eyes closed, sleep steadily taking hold of her.

“For a century, or more” her father continued, voice deep and softly rumbling “she lived in these cursed marshes, alone and isolated, feared by all.

But one day, a soldier, a single man, lost his group as they were escorting a diplomat from one kingdom to another. They were attacked by bandits, one of which used magic to kill many in a single attack. He had been left for dead, but fate had plans for him still. Not knowing the lands he was passing through, he started to walk and soon had crossed into witches marsh.

Night fell upon him soon enough and he lit a fire to both keep warm, heat some food and to keep all the predators at bay that were regarding him with keen interest.

As he sat there, he sang songs about lost love, broken and mended hearts and growing old together.

What the young soldier did not know was that the witch could see his small fire from her keep. Curious, she spied on him, using her magic. Seeing the single soldier, she was about to strike out and kill him, but his songs made her stay her hand, tugging on heartstrings that she had forgotten she had.

Instead, she moved herself closer to the lone soldier, using her magic. And for a short while, she stood there, hidden in the shadows, listening to his deep voice, singing many songs.

Then, something that had not happened in a long time, a single tear fell from her cheek. She wanted to talk to this either very brave or very dumb soldier.

‘May I join you at your fire, Man at Arms?’ she asked, her voice soft and gentle, as she stepped into the light.

Now, the soldier had been so entrenched in his own thoughts, that the sudden appearance of her made him jump and fall backwards off the log he was sitting on, legs now pointing toward the sky and arms flailing to find a hold.

Such a silly sight to her, it made her laugh for the first time in decades.

After finding stable footing and getting himself up, he looked at the young woman standing there, beautiful and delicate, with long black hair and eyes that shone like precious stones, reflecting the world around them.

Clearing his throat, he said ‘Young miss, I must insist that you stay at the fire tonight! It is not safe to travel alone here, when it is dark’.

She gave him a polite smile and found a seat on a log, close to the fire, as he too sat back down. He shared what little food he had with her and they talked. All throughout the night.

His eyes were filled with compassion and warmth, making her heart long to be forever close to them. She could not detect any deceit or malice from him, nor any kind of bewitching magic. He was just a man, not knowing who he was talking to.

He in turn, had been struck deeply in his heart. He knew from the moment he saw her, that here was a woman, that he would lay down his life to protect. Yes, she felt cold, but it was a sad kind of coldness, the kind that arises when you have been abused, hurt deeply and have become an outcast from everywhere.

He would not, nay, could not treat her like that! He would show her compassion and love.”

Wrenrik paused to see if Deedra had fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady. He was just about to slowly lift her up to place her in her bed, but the movement made her stir.

“Then what happened pappi?” she said, clearly not fully awake.

Letting out a sigh, smiling and kissing her on the top of her nearly dry hair, he continued.

“As morning broke over the marsh, the marsh itself seemed to have changed, becoming lighter, not as dark as it was the day before. The witch told him of a route to get safely across the lands and to meet with her at a very old tree, two days from that day. She would leave the marsh, that had been her home and domain for nearly two centuries, to come with him.

He followed the path she had given him, making it safely to a very large tree that marked the end of her domain. And true to her word, she came just as Zul’Tekt was setting, carrying only a few things. Among them, her tome, containing all of her knowledge, the things she had learned and made.

She feared for it to fall in the wrong hands, but bound in the skin from a Greater Deamagok and warded with powerful magic, not even she could destroy it. She would keep it hidden and locked away from those not of her blood.

That evening, they set off, to make a new life together, away from their past lives.”

Deedra had fully fallen asleep in her fathers arms. He gently got up and placed her in her bed, kissed her cheek and hoped the Gods would bless her each and every day.

Wrenrik tossed a few logs on the fire in the hearth, before he made his way into the bedroom, where his beloved wife was waiting for him. He found her sitting up in the bed, writing in her journal by the dim light of the oil lamp.

He stood there a bit, just taking in the sight of her, as she sat there, deep in thought, writing. He knew it helped her with her nightmares, a repentance for her past life, before him, before Deedra.

He took off his clothes, laid it on the chest at the foot of the bed and got under the covers with her, giving her a long soft kiss on her shoulder, his beard tickling her and making her turn her head to face him, giving him a loving kiss on the top of his head in return.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes for a few moments, enjoying the love they felt for one another.

She then looked away with a solemn expression on her face.

“Wren, I have been thinking…” she started, before biting her lip, seizing up. “What is it, my delicate winter blossom?” he asked, gently turning her head to face him with a strong hand on her cheek. “She is turning 12 the day after tomorrow and I think she needs to know of her heritage. I can feel her essence is strong and growing stronger by the day. I think it might manifest unwillingly if she is not taught to control it…” she trailed off, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Hey, listen now,” he said to her, as he softly pushed away her journal and drew her in to hold her tight, “you made a pact, but that does not mean you cannot teach her yourself, as long as you are very careful. I trust you and know you can do it safely, for the both of you.”

She cried silently into his bare chest, hugging him as hard as she could.

---

From today, I will be aiming to post a chapter every 2 weeks, on Thursdays or Fridays. This gives me a buffer with what I have now, allowing me to take it easy, space and time for unforeseen events and not burning myself out, even though I have so much more just filling up my mind. Thank you for reading and I hope it you like it

Hi all you lovely people out there in the wide world!

So, except for the finishing polish, chapters 1 to 3 are done, working on 4 and 5 side by side, which should be done no later than mid next week. But here is the question: Would you prefer the chapters drip-wise or have it all to read in one massive chunk?

So, I got this post on my lemmy client on android and wanted to reply, but I don't see how. I see it's been posted in [email protected] and I can navigate here, but I can't see anything but two posts, none of which contains that one I linked.

So... anyone know what's going on?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

Hi all,

Reddit refugee here. I've been following hfy for a number of years and am invested quite heavily in a number of stories. I usually read on mobile on my lunch break, but with rif going and the shocking app it's replaced with I can no longer do so - just log in via computer every week or so to catch up.

What I am interested in is seeing if any coders here are able to make a bot that pulls ongoing stories from r/hfy when they are updated (first contact, TFTR.etc) and ask the authors if they are ok with it being automatically posted to lemmy as well?

It had been a hard day's work, but everything was ready for tomorrow. The cart was filled to the brim with baskets and crates. 34 baskets alone for Master Fremdon alone took up the majority of the space, 12 pounds each, but also a wide selection of other vegetables and herbs to sell

Deedra had been exhausted, as her father carried her on his shoulders back to the house, after finishing up, Zul’Tekt low on the sky, but still beaming down light and warmth.

Her mother had drawn her a warm bath, which she went into with delight, enjoying the soothing warm water. Deedra wanted to spend more time in the bath, but she was tired and crawled out of the warm water and into the soft embrace of her mother, who was holding a blanket ready for her.

After quickly drying off and putting on her nightgown, she went over to her father sitting at the hearth and he lifted her up onto his lap, where she leaned into his chest and looked at the fire with him.

“Pappi? Will you tell me the story of the evil witch and the kind soldier that saved her?” she asked, ending with a yawn.

“That old story?” he said, chuckling “I must have told you that one at least a hundred times by now. I know you know it by heart.”

“But it is much better when you tell it” she protested softly, yawning once again.

Giving her a soft kiss on the top of her still wet hair, he started the tale. “Long ago, in a land far away, there lived an evil witch. She ruled a cursed land that none dared venture into, called The Winter Marshes. Many a king had sent vast armies to her door to vanquish her, but none could, all of them fell to her unparalleled magic.

So strong was she, that she could even command the dead, raising them to become her own army, striking down the kingdoms that dared to challenge her.”

“I think I will retire to the bed,” Deedra’s mother said, putting a log of wood on the fire, then kissing her cheek. “Sleep well, my little blessing.” she said, as she left them and closed the door behind her.

“Please, pappi, tell me more.” Deedra said, eyes closed, sleep slowly taking hold of her.

“For a century, or more” her father continued, voice deep and softly rumbling “she lived in these cursed marshes, alone and isolated, feared by all.

But one day, a soldier, a single man, got lost from his group that was escorting a diplomat from one kingdom to another. They were attacked by bandits, one of which used magic to kill many in a single attack. He had been left for dead, but fate had plans for him still. Not knowing the lands he was passing through, he started to walk and soon had crossed into witches marsh.

Night fell upon him soon enough and he lit a fire to both keep warm, heat some food and to keep all the predators at bay that were regarding him with interest.

As he sat there, he sang some songs about lost love, mended hearts and growing old together.

What the young soldier did not know was that the witch could see his small fire from her keep. Curious, she spied on him, using her magic. Seeing the single soldier, she was about to strike out and kill him, but his songs made her stay her hand, tugging on her heartstrings that she did not know she had.

Instead, she moved herself closer to the lone soldier, using her magic. And for a short while, she stood there, hidden in the shadows, listening to his deep voice, singing many songs.

Then, something that had not happened in a long time, a single tear fell from her cheek. She wanted to talk to this either very brave or very dumb soldier.

‘May I join you at your fire, man at arms?’ she asked, her voice soft and gentle, as she stepped into the light.

Now, the soldier had been so entrenched in his own mind, that the sudden appearance of her made him jump and fall backwards of the log he was sitting on, legs now pointing toward the sky and arms flailing to find a hold.

Such a silly sight to her, it made her laugh for the first time in decades.

After finding stable footing and getting himself up, he looked at the young woman standing there, beautiful and delicate, with long black hair and eyes that shone like precious stones, reflecting the world around them.

He then cleared his throat and said ‘Young miss, I must insist that you stay at the fire tonight! It is not safe to travel alone here, when it is dark’.

She smiled at him and found a seat on a log, close to the fire, as he too sat back down. He shared what little food he had with her and they talked. All night long.

His eyes were filled with compassion and warmth, making her heart long to be forever close to them. She could not detect any deceit or malice from him, nor any kind of bewitching magic. He was just a man, not knowing who he was talking to.

He in turn, had been struck deeply in his heart. He knew from the moment he saw her, that here was a woman, that he would lay down his life to protect. Yes, she felt cold, but it was the kind of coldness that arises when you have been abused, hurt deeply and had become an outcast from everywhere.

He would not, nay, could not treat her like that! He would show her compassion and love.”

Wrenrik paused to see if Deedra had fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady. He was just about to slowly lift her up to place her in her bed, but the movement made her stir.

“Then what happened pappi?” she said, clearly not fully awake.

Letting out a sigh, smiling and kissing her on the top of her nearly dry hair, he continued.

“As morning broke over the marsh, the marsh seemed different, not as dark as it was the day before. The witch told him of a route to get safely across and to meet with her at a very old tree, two days from that day. She would leave the marsh, that had been her home and domain for nearly two centuries, to come with him and become better.

He followed the path she had given him, making it safely to a very large tree that marked the end of her domain. And true to her word, she came just as Zul’Tekt was setting, carrying only a few things. Among them, her tome, containing all of her knowledge, the things she had learned and made.

She feared for it to fall in the wrong hands, but bound in the skin from a Greater Deamagok and warded with powerful magic, not even she could destroy it. She would keep it hidden and locked away from those not of her blood.

That evening, they set off together, to make a new life together, away from their past lives.”

Deedra had fully fallen asleep in her fathers arms. He gently got up and placed her in her bed, kissed her cheek and hoped the Gods would bless her each and every day.

Wrenrik tossed a few logs on the fire in the hearth, before he made his way into the bedroom, where his beloved wife was waiting for him. He found her sitting up in the bed, writing in her journal by the dim light of the oil lamp.

He stood there a bit, just taking in the sight of her, as she sat there, deep in thought, writing. He knew it helped her with her nightmares, a repentance for her past life, before him and Deedra.

He took off his clothes, laid it on the chest at the foot of the bed and got under the covers with her, giving her a soft kiss on her shoulder, his beard tickling her and making her turn her head to face him, giving him a loving kiss on the top of his head in return.

They looked deeply into each other's eyes for a few moments, love overflowing from them to one another.

She then looked away with a solemn expression on her face.

“Wren, I have been thinking…” she started, before biting her lip, seizing up. “What is it, my delicate winter blossom?” he asked, gently turning her head to face him with a strong hand on her cheek. “She is turning 12 the day after tomorrow and I think she needs to know of her heritage. I can feel her essence is strong and growing stronger by the day. I think it might manifest unwillingly if she is not taught to control it…” she trailed off, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Hey, listen now,” he said to her, as he softly pushed away her journal and drew her in to hold her tight, “you made a pact, but that does not mean you cannot teach her yourself, as long as you are very careful. I trust you and know you can do it safely, for the both of you.”

She sobbed softly into his bare chest, hugging him as hard as she could.

Part - 1

Entry Eleven

Disaster! One of the probes that the humans use to drag the ores they extract from their asteroid belts slammed into our ship today! Our forcefields held, but the drone was wrecked beyond repair, and the asteroid deflected towards Earth! It now moves only a few times faster than the speed of sound, leisurely by space travel standards, but it is colossal. It will depopulate the part of the planet it hits, surely. I am told that the probes and ore-haulers use a computer guidance system to slip into Earth orbital slots with their payloads, where the ores are removed by the pace and need that the human construction schedule dictates. If we had not been in the path of these probes, this would have never happened! The humans provided us with a copy of the ore haulers’ schedules to avoid just such a calamity! How did this happen?! What will happen to Earth?!

Entry Twelve

We have come to a conclusion. The crew and diplomatic staff have decided that we will divert the asteroid into the Earth’s sun, using our own ship to provide the stopping mechanism. Our fields are not recharged; the impact will kill us.

We are not committing lightly, fully half the crew said that we should abandon the humans to their fate and continue on negotiating, some of the rest said that we should do all that we can without destroying ourselves, but I and the Ambassador disagree. We did this. Our misgivings about their technological level aside, the humans should not be driven to near-extinction by their own first contact

Bizarrely enough, all is well. The asteroid nearly hit the planet when the humans took matters into their own hands. We had maneuvered our ship into the path of the asteroid, ready to deflect the massive thing with our own ship, if need be. We did this. This was our fault. Except, the human diplomats were frantic, demanding that we move the ship at once. We were baffled. We were offering to solve the problem we had caused, so why were the humans demanding that we did not? They beseeched us to move, to let the asteroid move along its own path, directly towards the planet, saying that we did not deserve to suffer, to bear the brunt of this calamity.

Finally, we gave in, and moved out of the course of the asteroid. We were watching what we thought would be the end of the Earth below…but we were wrong. A blast appeared near the asteroid, and we realized what was happening: the humans had detonated a nuclear device in the asteroid’s path to divert it. Not destroy it, no, but divert it. A few dozen of their own drone craft slammed into the side of the asteroid which had just been hit by the bomb, propelling it into near-Earth orbit.

The human ambassador actually took me aside and explained that they had a contingency set aside for just such a catastrophe, dating back to when they had first created the mining drone and ore hauler network. He told me that the technology they had first employed to create the interplanetary ore haulers had originally been far more primitive, and unable to precisely calculate the appropriate course and speed to get the asteroids safely back to Earth.

The Asteroid Diversion weapons and drones had been created to reduce any risk. In total shock, I asked why they had done this, and almost as importantly, why they had been willing to risk such a mining venture if they knew such a potential problem existed. “Necessity is the mother of invention,” he replied.

Entry Thirteen

Fifty days have passed since the asteroid incident, and the human’s reaction has been alarming. Civilian populations – and not a few military – across the system are clamoring for attention, some demanding that the human diplomats apologize for what “they” have done – as if the humans caused this! – others demanding that we suffer for this transgression, others yet launching into wild speculation. Above it all, the human ambassador has changed the tack of these negotiations completely. Now, all he seems to ask about is the justice systems of the galaxy, where before he has inquired about everything from laws restricting invasive plant species in agriculture to FTL drives to the origins of our linguistic colloquialisms.

When asked what his official stance about the asteroid incident will be, by other members of his own species who are not part of his delegation, he replies cryptically. “Patience is a virtue.” “Never close doors you can not open.” “Invite no conflict where none exists.” “Yellow is most flavorful.” I have no idea what the last one means. Perhaps our translators are not as capable of translating euphemisms as we thought.

Regarding the possession of the nuclear devices they employed to divert the asteroid, he has hastened – quite uninvited – to assure us that it has been over a century and half since any nuclear device was used in war. This assuages my fears somewhat, especially since we discreetly scanned the complex on the planet’s surface that launched the “nuke” and found that even the most powerful of these devices is little more than six times the effective power of the ones they employed: strong enough to damage our fields, surely, but nowhere near enough to destroy us outright. But I should not be thinking of these potential new friends as potential new enemies, as he himself says.

Entry Fourteen

Again, I am amazed by the humans’ ability to ignore trouble. It is now two hundred fifty days after first contact, and the human media has actually greatly reduced their mention of us, and the asteroid incident. They are now beginning to return to what I am told (with vast disgust, interestingly) by the human ambassador is the norm for their media: music, banal daily news, and what I think may be some form of medical treatment, aimed at those who suffer reproductive isolation.

The fact that, in less than a year, the human species has been exposed to alien life and nearly been wiped out by the carelessness of said life seems to have been absorbed by the population with a genuinely amazing degree of blasé acceptance. I understand we will be going on a tour of Earth itself, tomorrow, though in full body-suits, naturally. We will have to be. Their atmosphere is breathable, of course, but their sun is so much more radioactive than ours in the spectra of ultraviolet and radio that to not wear suits would be downright stupid.

Entry Fifteen

What in the world are these humans doing without their own FTL drives?! I returned from a ten-day tour of their homeworld today, and I can say with certainty that I have never been more unnerved. These humans possess, I knew, massive space stations, tightly packed with their own, and their non-Earth colonies were barely at the level where abundant food could be harvested. I had made, naturally, the same assumption that the Ambassador did when we saw these places: that these were criminals being made to suffer, or volunteers who chose to live in these awful conditions because they had literally no choice, or the infirm and weak, who could be sheltered in a completely artificial environment because their homeworld was too harsh for them in some way.

What I discovered is that Earth is, if anything, nearly as badly overpopulated in its capitals and trade hubs as it is in their colonies and space stations! I saw towers of apartments, some with over two thousand people living in them, stacked so close together they looked like rows of molecules in a crystal, and the people there seemed as if this was the norm! The leaders and visionaries and great speakers of humanity spoke and feted and recited prepared lines, but I heard none of it.

These people are not a people in true squalor, not really, certainly not by their own standards, but I hear tell of truly shocking slums in the cities of the poorer continents. It seems a disparity of wealth and power exists here, and I am unnerved deeply. A population this large achieving the great works of their peoples, like the ore haulers and orbital platforms, is not impossible…but only a tiny fraction of their people are wealthy enough to have done it. A small percentage… without FTL.

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Will be continued...

Thanks to u/Prohibitorum for original transcription. Original Image

Note: This is a fanfic of Warhammer 40k. Love and Krieg is a collection of short vignettes born from the crazy minds and sappy hearts of a bunch of /tg/ anons tickled by the idea of a Krieger girlfriend. The stories detail the sometimes humorous, often heartwarming events in the relationship between an unnamed, well-meaning Imperial civilian and Krieger Female Model 68b #6345. Each story loosely constituted a date or some outing, most of them tying together without any strict sense of chronology. The end result was something magical, evoking a sense of idyllic innocence rarely found in the grim darkness of the 41st millennium.

Previous Chapter

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I decided to take Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 with me to the beach for a short trip. I thought it would be nice and maybe the change in scenery would get her to lighten up. I told her about the trip a week ahead of time to give her a chance to get ready and she woke up promptly at five in the morning on Saturday, without the aid of an alarm, and waited in the car for me to get ready.

I had told her that we were going to the beach but I wasn't sure at first that she understood what that was, as she was dressed in the same neatly pressed greatcoat she always wore (does she clean it when I am not around?). Our car ride was uneventful, I would talk, she would curtly nod. I think she also kept turning off the radio and adjusting the air conditioner when I wasn't looking, that or I am having electrical problems with the car. When we got to the beach I was shocked to find out that she did understand exactly where we were going. As soon as she got out of the car she removed her greatcoat revealing...........warm weather fatigues.

She had her sleeves rolled up to exactly a centimeter above her elbows, revealing her hands and arms for the first time. Her shirt was pleasantly form fitting and unfortunately buttoned up all the way and her pants were equally as form fitting as her shirt and disappointingly long and tucked into her boots.

It wasn't perfect but it is the most casual that I had ever seen her. We went for a nice walk along the beach, in total silence, she with her lasgun slung over her shoulder ready to bring to bear at the first sign of trouble. She always walked in step with me on my right hand side except for a brief stretch when we passed a group of women playing volleyball, she then switched to my left depriving me of a pleasant view.

I had hoped to go fishing at a small pier but I didn't have a fishing license and she kept pointing to a sign that said "no fishing without a license" and kept blocking my way. It is the most forceful she has ever been with me.

After that I waded around in the ocean for a bit, she stood on the beach watching. All and all it wasn't a bad day......... that is until we came across a group of kids building a sandcastle.

I don't even know where she got the shovel but she was on them with it in a flash. Quickly she began to build ditches, bunkers, and ramparts around it. She was forcing the kids to help her directing them with dramatic and threatening gestures and shoving them from place to place, ignoring the cries from the younger ones. Eventually some of the parents saw her and came at her yelling. Big mistake, she quickly levelled her lasgun and opened fire. Fortunately she didn't hit anyone before I got there to stop her. I think they were warning shots, though I am still certain that those families are traumatized for life.

All things considered, it wasn't that bad of a day, and could have been worse.

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Source - https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Love_and_Krieg

Hello everyone. This is my first post here. I am sharing the fanfic I loved here. I think it might be considered as HFY

Note: Love and Krieg is a collection of short vignettes born from the crazy minds and sappy hearts of a bunch of /tg/ anons tickled by the idea of a Krieger girlfriend. The stories detail the sometimes humorous, often heartwarming events in the relationship between an unnamed, well-meaning Imperial civilian and Krieger Female Model 68b #6345. Each story loosely constituted a date or some outing, most of them tying together without any strict sense of chronology. The end result was something magical, evoking a sense of idyllic innocence rarely found in the grim darkness of the 41st millennium.

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I was once set up on a date with a Krieg chick on one of those dating websites. It was pretty weird to say the least. She showed up to my house at exactly seven in full combat gear, lasgun and gasmask included.

We went to dinner and she didn't even take her mask off, she just sat there at attention staring at me. I tried to talk to her but she would just nod at everything I say. Eventually our food came and she still didn't take off her mask but when I turned to look away for a second her food disappeared.

We went to a movie after that, she just sat there mask and all. However, I went to go the bathroom halfway through and she followed me out and stood guard outside the men's room. I think I heard her hitting someone who tried to come in but I am not sure. After the movie I decided to go home and on the car ride back tried to talk to her again and all she would do is nod. Before I went back inside my house we saluted each other, which frankly I have never done on a date in my life.

It gets even more strange. The next day after work I came home and found her standing in my living room. We saluted again. Apparently she had decided to move in as she had a backpack and duffel bag with her. She sleeps in my bed but she just lies there rigid with her lasgun at her side, I am never sure she is asleep anyways.

She always gives me rations to take with me to work and has rations ready for me at exactly six o'clock every evening. Of course, I am also pretty sure that she was the one who dug the trench around my house while I was at work this week.

I am not sure if I have a live-in girlfriend or a live-in soldier. Maybe both.

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Sharing the source as per the rules - https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Love_and_Krieg

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I can't imagine the debate that went on amongst your people but finally a small shuttle emerged from the fleet and headed towards the Imperator's palace. The war council, in their shame, refused to meet with your delegates. Instead they nominated one of their members and sent me along as an "Honor Guard". That was when I saw you, my first human. You were standing at the end of your shuttles ramp next to another delegate. you with your red folder and he with his green folder.

Through the few human survivors we had managed to take, we managed to decipher your language and program a translator. Through that the lone council member announced that he was here to discuss the terms of our surrender. You and your co-delegate traded a brief look. I didn't know what it was at the time but I have come to learn it was relief. Your co-delegate stepped forward and offered your list of terms of our surrender.

Your terms were quite reasonable really, there were demands that we turn over copies of all military and civilian technology as well as working prototypes so that you could adapt them. We also had to make territorial concessions as well as accept an occupying force in order to ensure that we did not rebuild in an attempt to fight again.

When all the songs were sung and our honor pledges were finished you opened a communicator and said one word, "sunrise", and you and your partner turned to leave. A voice in the transmitter in my ear told me that your fleet was beginning to approach. maybe it was because I was young and impulsive or perhaps I knew that my dishonor was so complete that I couldn't get any worse, but either way I stepped out of line and called out to you. "Wait, if your co-delegate had our terms for surrender, what was in your folder?" Another look crossed his face, one that I would learn to be a 'wry smile'. "This folder here?" you asked, "This folder holds the terms of surrender." I told you that I didn't understand and your smile faltered. You looked me right in the eyes and said, "These are the terms we were going to offer for our surrender to you."

When your fleet arrived in orbit I finally understood. The ships were in bad shape, they were falling apart and looked like the first fleet that had attacked us. They were hospital ships and cargo haulers, refitted transports that looked as if they were about to fall apart. The massive 'ship' we saw was actually your first colony ship back before you had even discovered the phase drive and faster than light travel. You had grafted phase drives to it and had to tow it into position using decrepit ore haulers. Our "occupiers" were disheveled civilians that looked half starved. Over the next many rotations I learned the truth.

You had gambled everything on this plan. Every last resource had been poured into the building of the grand fleets that you had used to attack us. Fields​ that you used to grow food were tilled over so you could build weapons factories. You had stripped half a dozen colonies and hundreds of asteroids and moons in order to assemble the vast fleets for your attack. You literally had nothing left to fight us. The fleet in orbit was there either to occupy us in the event of victory or to be used as an offering of slaves in the event of your defeat. You were so stretched thin of resources we had to supply you with fuel just so the bulk of your fleet could return home!

You knew that attacking us directly might not have been a sure victory so you had to make us believe that we couldn't face the endless onslaught of your fleets. Your final gamble had paid off. With peace secured, we were both able to rebuild your broken empire. now we are the strongest of allies. We fight side by side against those that would dare stand to oppose us. I was only able to visit you now due to the fact that my fleet is running a joint training exercise with one of yours.

That is why I am here now and there is something I must ask you. I didn't realize at the time because there was so much to do, and I haven't been able to see you in the four cycles since the peace treaty was ratified. But now that I have you here I must know. The last fleet we encountered during the final battle was 11-12. You must tell me as I have never been able to figure it out. What was the 12th fleet? What was 12 of 12?

With that the frail old man in the hospital bed looked over to the Kress Fleet Commander standing before him. A wry smile stretched across his weathered and pale face. "Perhaps", he whispered, "that is best left to the imagination".

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Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

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Two rotations later you attacked again. This time the fleet was larger and the ships were better equipped. The fleet didn't hesitate to open fire and were much more prepared for our defenses. The battle still didn't last very long and our losses were minimal. Once again our Learners were sent out. The few ships that were left mostly intact had a wide range of names, but every one of them had the designation 2-12 on their bow.

Still the council could not understand the meaning of the designation. Had we figured it out sooner I really doubt it would have made a difference in the end. Another two cycles later, almost to the minute, another fleet attacked. This one actually had ships we were familiar with. They were older battlecruisers like the "Formidable", the "Valiant", the "Daring". This fleet was about half the size of the fleets you had sent into battle back at the beginning of the war, but they had been outfitted with more advanced weapons and shields.

Our defense fleet was small since we had thought that you didn't know where our home world was and that you were on the verge of losing the war. The battle was fierce but as was common, we gained the upper hand. When it was clear that your fleet was going to lose the surviving ships did something we had never seen before.

Rather than fleeing or fighting to the death. The last ships intentionally rammed the nearest Kressian ship. When the battle was over your entire fleet, some 70 ships were gone. We had lost three warships and over a dozen were critically damaged. It was one of the costliest battles we had ever fought.

As our repair crews were sent out to assess the damage, our Learners noted on the record that every ship in the fleet that we could get a clear view on had the designation 3-12 on their bow. Finally the council realized what that meant. They thought that surely the Humans didn't have the ability to field nine more fleets like the one they had just sent, but at their suggestion the Imperator recalled a reserve fleet and sent out several attack groups to search our home sector for more humans. Like clockwork you would send a fleet to attack us every two cycles.

Each fleet was larger and stronger than the last and the names became more hostile to match the growing ferocity of your attacks. We witnessed the destruction of ships like the "Vengeance" and the "Retaliation" and as each fleet was down to its last ships, they would ram into our or intentionally detonate their phase drives in order to cause as much damage as possible.

Our losses we mounting and fear had begun to build not only among the rank and file, but also within the war council itself. By the time the 8-12 fleet had attacked we were recalling every active fleet within range to bolster our defenses. When fleet 9-12 attacked we were on the verge of panic. This fleet was massive, easily numbering 1000 ships. We saw ships that we had never encountered before. These were not the crude and bulky vessels we were accustomed to...

These ships were sleek and fast. Their shields were powerful and we were quite dismayed to see that they had the same pulse cannons that our own cruisers and battleships used. By then our entire fleet was clustered around our home world so we still won the battle, but not before several of your ships broke through our lines and began to bombard our planet. The damage was relatively minor but it set off a panic among the populace.

The people knew that we were fighting off attack after attack, but the war council had always told them that we were suffering no losses while they were being utterly destroyed. Now everyone knew that the humans were not giving up on the war but were willing to sacrifice much to destroy us. At that point the council had, quietly, begun to discuss other options.

As a race steeped in traditions and honor, it was almost incomprehensible to even consider surrendering to the humans, but the loss of civilian life and the fact that each fleet we faced was becoming more and more powerful was giving us cause to talk. We knew that there were at least three more fleets ready to attack us and if they continued to grow in size and strength we might not be able to win. And we knew that losing would mean the death of countless Kressians. After all the death and destruction we had visited upon your people, we knew that our fate would be sealed if we could not end the war on terms.

Right on time, two rotations later, fleet 10-12 jumped into our system. There were only four ships, but they were big. No, big doesn't quite describe them. They were massive, bigger than massive. The best measurement we could get was over five krents or nearly three of your kilometers long, almost four times the size of our largest war cruiser.

Every open space of these ships was studded with large pulse cannons and missile tubes. They came screaming right into the heart of our fleet. For once we knew how you must have felt. We sent hundreds of ships out to fight four of yours and we were getting slaughtered. But this time it was our numbers that won out.

The sacrifices of so many of our ships and commanders allowed us to destroy the War, Famine, Pestilence and Death (as always we didn't understand the significance of the names at the time). When it was over we had less than 1000 ships remaining. The inner orbit of our planet was choked with wrecked hulls and frozen bodies. Pieces of ships were raining down into our atmosphere where they would catch fire and slam into the ground.

The council had no choice. They told the Imperator that if we didn't surrender to the humans when the next fleet arrived then it was likely that the last vestiges of our fleet would be destroyed and that our home world would be sterilized of all life. Reluctantly he agreed. Two rotations later fleet 11-12 jumped into our system.

We couldn't get a clear reading on them as they were outside our normal scanning range and our long range scanner was still damaged. It was impossible to get a clear count but we estimated that there were almost 10,000 ships. One of them was even bigger than the last four.

It must have been at least six kilometers long and had what looked to be cannon that were over 1/4 kilometer in size. The fleet stayed just out of visual range but its presence was all we needed. Almost immediately I was ordered to send a message to your fleet. We requested that delegates be sent to discuss terms of surrender.

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Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

"I remember when the humans defeated the Kress Imperium; I'll remember it until I breathe my last. Do you remember it my old friend?" There was no answer from the bed next to me. "I'm sure you do, you were there after all. The war had started when I was only one cycle old. I remember when our race first discovered yours. We had stumbled on a colony during a standard mapping expedition. rather than try to make contact at that time our Grand Imperator sent a full honor fleet and our Prime Delegate.

To this day no one truly knows what went wrong or who fired first. What we do know for sure was that a lucky, or rather unlucky, shot had hit the Prime Delegate's flagship killing him and the Fleet Commander instantly. It didn't help that the Prime Delegate was also the Imperator's first born. Shortly after that the entire colony's defensive fleet was in ruins. In a fit of rage the fleet Sub-Commander had the entire colony burned to ashes and just like that, we were at war."

How you humans managed to resist us so long was almost as maddening as how you won the war. Your ships were slow, their shield were weak and their weapons were underpowered. The only​ thing you had going for you was your cunning and your ability to reproduce.

No matter how many colonies we burned, no matter how many ships we destroyed there seemed to be an endless amount of reinforcements for you to send in their place. Your capacity to build fleets was like nothing we had seen before. You also fought every battle with a stubborn determination that has never been matched by over 100 races we have encountered in this galaxy. You would send 15 of your ships to destroy one of ours and when that didn't work, you would send 50.

But in the end even that was not enough. After nearly a cycle of war we finally saw a change. You were less likely to engage us in direct battles, preferring raids and hit and run tactics. When you did choose to fight us your fleets were smaller and seemed to be less willing to commit to a full on attack. The war council had thought that you had finally reached the point where you were no longer capable of resisting. How wrong they were.

I was a Signals sub-officer, just out of primary training and barely two cycles or roughly 40 of your Earth years old. I was working in the War Council's tactical center. They were discussing their next steps in the war and trying in vain to determine where your homeworld might be. Suddenly our long range sensors picked up a group of ships jumping into real space just outside our defensive grid.

We knew they were human but didn't recognize the ship configuration. There were only 12 of them and as they slowly made their way forward we didn't even think to open fire. The ships were small and looked as if they had been cobbled together out of debris and wreckage. It almost seemed as if they were lost and wanted to surrender to us until they opened fire.

Their weapons were pathetically weak, but they took us by surprise. Before our defensive weapons could return fire they had done heavy damage to our main long range sensors. Of course they didn't get off a second shot. All but one of the ships were instantly vaporized. The last one tried to flee but it's engines overheated and melted the aft half of the ship. Instantly the council ordered our Learners to get to work.

That was the one thing we picked up from you during the war. The limited number of victories you had, had given you the chance to study us and our technology. You took our weapons and attempted to reverse engineer them. The result was something between your weapons and ours, but it was certainly more effective. You also studied how we fought and adapted to us as much as you could.

Our ways have always been rigid, you once said that we lacked imagination. But now we tried to use your own methods against you. We studied the wreckage of your "fleet" but couldn't find much use. The ships were actually cobbled together out of mismatching parts and there were no survivors to interrogate. At the end of our Learner's report, just an addendum really, was that the sole surviving ship had two designations.

Your ship names were rather much more colorful than ours, those that were intact enough for us to study at least. The one surviving ship was named the "Folly" but right under it, stenciled on the buckled hull of the bow was 1-12. We thought that it was simply a numerical designation of that ship in the group and ignored it.

Next (Part 2)

---

Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

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

I can’t sleep at night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wonder if I shall ever sleep again.

Source

"Their weapons and biology were obsolete."

The speaker stood before the entire Imperial War College Corps of Cadets.

"Well," the Major pondered for moment, "Their weapons were clearly obsolete. Powder based propellants and metal projectiles were their main methods of warfare. But their biology tricky."

A holograph of a human manifested on the stage next to a rotating display of a planet .

"Four limbs and a two eyes on the cephalic. Endoskeletons, and five fingers on their hands. About one and a half standard meters in hight. But strong, bulky, and mental titans of battle. The biological problems can wait, their mindset must be addressed. Their history is wrought with warfare. Thousands of cycles of conquest and collapse, each rendering a more ruthless method of slaughter than the last."

Blotches of color appeared on the holograph of the human homeworld as it flattened out.

"Each color represents a nation-state, its shape altering as it's conquered and revolts. Similar colors designate alliances. Warfare shaped their psyche. One continent of their race almost ruled their entire planet. They fought two planetary wars in just fifty cycles. Then they endured hundred and twenty of peace."

"For a brief moment the borders of their planet remained mostly stationary. Massive amounts of their population lost their warrior ethos until the resource wars, and they never looked back."

The colored outlines split at a few points, then the whole order broke into chaos. Lines shifting, splitting, a. expanding until three points began an unyielding advance across the planet.

"Three massive hyperpowers forged through fire, conquest, and resolve, which wrecked their whole planet down in a third and devastating terra bellum. Around this point, although hindered by massive destruction, their technology allowed exoplanetary mining to be feasible. This is when they entered our galactic community. We never needed to deal with a divided space faring species before. Our initial contact stunned the humans, as it does every species. Well they remain a divided species today, and a political nightmare for us. But their biological capacity for warfare?"

The display flashed to a paused holovid of a team of human soldiers. A red glow around them indicated their condition: wounded, exhausted,and dehydrated. They were in a wedge formation spaced fifteen meters apart. A flat outline of one soldier appeared with vital statistics. Blood loss was at 20%, rifle ammunition was down to a final magazine of 40, and two full 15 round magazines for his sidearm. The body had exhausted the last consumed energy intake and was burning up stored fat.

"This is their warrior mentality. These four men are all that remains of a platoon. One platoon, with bayonets fixed, covering a single bottleneck, as its battalion retreats during the biowar on travaticus."

The video played in silence. The four fired in single shots. Casings flew through the air. Then, two three meter tall armored creature appeared at the far end of the projection

"This is monstrosity is the biologically engineered warriors of the Archave. Ape like with claws for hands, and a massive pain tolerance. And this is these humans last stand. They concentrate fire, notice the change in the stathue and this humans personal information. Notice the shift in color to blue, this is the release of their adrenaline. It's potent. It's blocking out pain, it's increasing their reflexes and sharpening their fighting prowess."

The ape charged forward, rounds shredding at its armor and skin. It roared forward and ripped into the 1st soldier. The Corps gasped. The humans were glowing blue, rifles now expending rounds at burst speeds.

"Their heart rate is off the charts, a percentage increase we cannot even fathom. Yet they controlled their breathing, each shot landing on its target. Pay attention on the human farthest from the attackers."

The slat screen beeped as the farthest human ran out of rifle rounds and switched to the slower and controlled single shots of his handgun. The three remaining soldiers continued to lay fire on the advancing beasts, before they could reach the second victim the concentrated fire brought it down. The corps opened in a cheer that died as quickly as it erupted, the last beast had ripped another soldier in half. Rounds continued to fly, and the beast closed in on the third human, a claw spearing through it's torso and ripping him in half.

Another beep The last human had expended his very last round. The holovid paused and rotated to give a better view of the human and beast. Their eyes locked. The video began in slow motion as the human reached for his slung rifle and pulled it to his hip. His mandible dropped, skin stretched, and and veins bulged as the human screamed and leapt forward.

At bayonet point, he charged the monstrosity that had destroyed his brothers.

The corps was in silent awe.

A bayonet charge.

The creature stabbed the human in the chest, a massive red oval appeared on his stat screen where the claw had penetrated, and the human threw his rifle. The bayonet pierced the apes cheek, as the human flat lined.

"That charge, that refusal to quit, that spirit give their last full measure in the face of death, is why they won"

Original Post

Journal of an Alien Diplomat

Entry One

The delegation will meet for the first time today. I'm keeping this record as ordered. though I don't see the point. The humans aren't exactly reclusive, but the hoops they made themselves jump through before they even returned our first contact message were absurd. I heard second-hand that they nearly went into a civil war over the possibility of our message being bait for some sort of trap. Are they just naturally paranoid, or have they run into some other species of non-humans that gave them trouble? I rather suspect the former, their military, for just having one star system, is pretty numerous.

Entry Two

The humans sent up some civilian diplomat instead of a military leader. I was surprised: they seem to value martial prowess fairly highly, so why do they have a civilian leader? Apparently, this guy was selected after a brief voting period. which wasn't made open to the general population, but was only open to national leaders. That's troubling: national leaders in a spacefaring species? That can only mean delays in the future.

Entry Three

A few more diplomats came up today. with huge stacks of portable computers. Our translators already added the one language they have used so far to the universal system, so we didn't have any trouble deciphering the data from the computers. Apparently they want to know as much as possible about us, and in exchange, they provided a bunch of information about themselves, their history, some more language dialects we didn't have covered yet, and some of their own starmaps. I was stunned. Why are they being so trusting? They were on the verge of a civil war when we contacted them.

No. it was because we contacted them.

Entry Four

I know it's been several weeks since I last updated this thing, but the human's data is taking up all of my time. Apparently they have been in a state of what we would consider constant civil war since their people evolved far enough to grasp fire. Over the dumbest things, too, from religion to territory. Nearly a fifth of all of their most important technology, including their relativistic drive technology, was derived from something designed to kill other humans. No wonder they're being so open, our people wouldn't engage in an internal war on the scale these humans have, ever. They've killed more of themselves in the last thousand years than my people have ever died. Total.

Entry Five

The ninth week of the contact meeting is ending now. The reactions from the humans on their worlds have been more interesting than all the data they gave us, by now: they're starting to get back to routine. They have their own planet, another planet, and about five moons in their system colonized to some degree, and each has a distinct culture and way of life. The reaction on each when we made contact was the same: they flipped out, and their peoples were seized by everything ranging from panic to joy. But now? Their reactions have stabilized to the extent that I don't think we're going to get a reaction out of them unless we create some further provocation. The most-read news articles on their electronic communication networks are more about domestic problems and entertainment and their economies than they are about us. Are humans just more comfortable in routines, or are they frustrated with our lack of diplomatic progress? I'm confused. The humans I've met seem unconcerned, but I know the Ambassador from our people is getting worried.

Entry Six

I'm relieved. The human ambassador met me personally, today, informally, here on the ship. He said that he could tell that I was getting worried about the negotiations, and he wanted to address me personally. I asked how he could tell I was worried when he had only met our species for the first time less than one hundred Solar cycles ago, and he replied that it was all part of being a diplomat. I stated outright that I was confused by the seeming lack of disruption on the part of the people below. He said that there were plenty of people who were disrupted, but that most of the humans in the system had already decided to wait and see what the outcome of the negotiations were before doing anything. ‘After all,” he said, “even if my species becomes an active member of the galactic community, most humans will stay right here, living their lives. We'll be affected by galactic politics, new technology, and colonization, even assuming that we could find new Earth-type worlds out there, but most will want to stay right where they are.” I asked him how he could say that when so many of his people had colonized the rest of the system, and he laughed. I think. “It's completely different when you can see Earth out your window."

Entry Seven

Things have picked up so much. We got our translators working to the effect that nuance of speech, not just content, can be translated appropriately. The human ambassador's speech and conversation were suddenly so much clearer. To his credit, he told us that he had been refraining from common speech, slang, and aphorism as much as possible. “I wouldn't want to use a saying or phrase that had a clear meaning to another human, but made no sense — or worse. insulted — one of your people. Now. I can speak freely.” I have to wonder if this faster-paced dialogue will negatively affect the negotiations. The Ambassador broached the toughest topic today: Faster Than Light travel.

Entry Eight

Generally, species are content to create FTL on their own, before they even contact us, or vice-versa. Humans are the exception. They colonized their entire star system, with seven inhabited bodies and over a thousand mined, explored, probed, or mapped bodies with no habitation in their system. So much of their population lives in their orbital platforms that their own homeworld barely even supports two thirds of their species. They did this without FTL. Clearly, the fact that they have reacted peacefully to our presence rather than precipitously fighting or ignoring us indicates that they are mature enough to handle Faster Than Light travel...but I am privately concerned. One of the human diplomats has already begun copying our speech and movement patterns. I found myself opening up to him without even realizing it until afterwards. He must be doing it on purpose, to set us at ease. After one hundred twenty of their days, they're copying the behavior of their first alien contact. This is one of their finest diplomatic minds, of course, but still. If they can do it with behavior, can they do it with technology? I suspect they will ask for a working FTL drive to study in their next meeting.

Entry Nine

I am vindicated, it seems. I spoke my concerns to the Ambassador today, and he agreed that there would be no gifting of FTL technology to the humans, that they would have to earn it on their own. The humans would react poorly, I guessed, but tactfully, as at least a few of them seem to genuinely care what we think. I was right, naturally. The human ambassador asked that their people be given a working FTL drive to reverse-engineer, in exchange for an unspecified piece of technology of theirs. Their technology, the Ambassador quickly replied, was inferior to ours in every way save communications, and we had no need for their communications technology. Communicating faster than light is something we can do already: communicating instantaneously anywhere in their system, as they do, is a wondrous piece of technology, but not necessary for our people. The human ambassador reacted with shock and surprise immediately, and then quickly became suspicious. I think he may have gleaned that we have discussed this amongst ourselves. How? I can not guess. We spoke of other things, and the ambassador of the humans seemed mollified by the discussions that followed. Will he broach it again? Probably.

Entry Ten

The humans surprise us. It is exactly half of one year after first contact, and life, as I before noted, continues. They are fully one third finished with another of their orbital habitation platforms, and we were given a tour of the construction site. Huge robotic construction devices smelt down chunks of ore from the many, many asteroid and lunar mining platforms the humans have throughout their system, ferried to them by relativistic drive-powered ore haulers. The slag is then fed into their forges and reduced to elemental purity, and the refined ore is then crafted, still in space, into modules, which are then attached to the frame of the space installation. The elemental slag is mostly hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and silicon, in this system. They use these things to make air and computers, apparently, which are then used in the construction of their platforms. I am astounded. They have created the most efficient industrial complex we have ever seen...by necessity. They lack FTL, so in the absence of easily-reachable resource deposits that they can mine on their colonies, they simply process asteroids into something useful. Another reason to deprive them of FTL? If they can prosper in such paucity. how will they react to plenty?

Part 2

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Thanks to u/Prohibitorum for original transcription. Original Image

Fleeing from reddit, this is an older story of mine (3 chapters so far, but I would like to continue it, just not on that site) Enjoy, or don't.

Part 2

----------------------------------------------------------<<<<

Or so we thought, after first contact.

You see, when we first encountered humans, they had barely colonized their solar system. Not even counting the ginormous cost, both in lives and materials, and their primitive spacefaring thechnology, the galaxy in general classified them very low in the scale of species relevance, given what happened right after comunications began.

First, major religions suffered a cataclysmic schism, unable to cope with the fact that there where other life forms, and other faiths, throughout the galaxy. One can argue that their religions where already dead far before, when instead of enlightenment, they were driven by power-hungry megalomaniacs. In any case, over a few terran years, all large faiths collapsed, unable to hold themselves together with enough followers to keep mattering in the world affairs, divided each into millions of pieces and interpretations of life. But more on that, later.

When first contact specialists greeted the human delegations, instead of meeting the best and brightest, they found more power-driven humans that were insidiously desesperate on “technological exchange”, but there was not that much the specialists could actually trade, and they had barely enough patience to deal with the backstabing happening behind the scenes between many of their countries, trying to one-up the others. Our computational technology worked on optical and atomic scale, being thousands of times faster and more efficient than their electrically driven, silicon based technology.

Art and culture may have worked for a bit, but in a coalition of one million species upon millions of worlds, it would get diluted and estranged. Besides, humans would not go anywhere unless we carried them, wich was another can of worms alltogether. Given that their spacefaring technology was chemical in nature, vastly inefficient, and definitely NOT interstellar. They had begun spreading through their solar system, but at speeds that even a rock snail (silicon based life from an obscure planet in the edge of the galaxy) seemed fast in comparison. They had developed habitations in their moon and the fourth planet orbiting their Sol, but as singular efforts from individual countries, rather than a general human endeavor.

Medical and biologically speaking, there would be some trade, sure, but human biology was not that different from other well known species (definitely not counting you here, rock snail), so even there, exchange was going to be somewhat limited on what humans could offer.

Materials? Space mining at large was robotized at this point, and planetside digging was barely worth it anymore.

When sociologists arrived to perform a standard psicological analysis for the archives, they more or less found out why humans where confined to their own corner of space. Their structures of power where mostly coped by not very bright individuals that seeked to gain power for themselves or their selected group. That hindered social, intellectual and technological advancement to a crawl. It's not like humans were going to destroy themselves right away, but as an interstellar race, they were not even in diapers, but barely even born, so to speak.

With all this, the galaxy at large celebrated their appearance for a short while, like everything that is new, and then went about their business once more.

And here is where you ask, why on terra am I explaining this story at all, if this was an unremarkable species (for galaxy standards), in an average corner of the galaxy?

Well, as mentioned previously, large religions were, in all effects, inexistent after a few human years. With that, all the thinking control, bombardment of beliefs and fears that drove those, fell dramatically, freeing a lot of human minds to think about something else, other than sit in a corner, dreading existence.

Once humans had a reason to look up, to the sky and beyond, without the background noise of their manipulative brethren, they started to think outside the box they had been kept in, but more importantly, they also stopped hindering the thinking in their offsprings. The cascade effect was unpredictable from our side.

We had inadvertently awaken the colossus.

With all the free brainpower bubbling around, the speed of humanity developement started to accelerate. Human governments tried to hold the reins to mantain themselves in power, of course, but they failed miserably, not because they could have not done anything, but because they did not act fast enough.

It is generally known that it's harder to develop an idea from scratch, than knowing for sure that something can be done, and finding a way to do it.

Humans had seen our ships. We had expected some technological espionage, so to speak, from the humans in power. However, at the time of first contact, Earth was steeming with space travel interest, even if primitive, and the media coverage was on par with any other forms of entertainment. That meant reverse engineering and developement was not confined to a really small percentage of the scientific comunity, but instead, to millions upon millions of ideas hungry humans, with time to spare.

25 years after first contact, humans were already experimenting with FTL drives. 15 years later they had begun gravity manipulation techniques. 10 years later, suddenly, earth exploded.

NOT literally, of course.

That day Earth spat out a million spines. Some were flashy and bright, from the descendants of spacefaring moghuls that still had vast economic power, others were, literally, grain silos. You see, in general, not everyone had the resources to get a starship built for them, be either a government or an individual. So space access for general humans was still a government interest controlled issue, in theory.

It is known that a good Tiv'at mechanic can build a spaceship out of a truck, it's not that hard for a good specialist with hundreds of years of knowledge in it's back. Now imagine a race full of tinkerers that had been physically confined to a single planetary surface and the belief of an eternity of solitude. It took a specific kind of mind, of course, to go about building their own, but if it could be welded shut, and have air scrubbers installed, it could be made into a spaceship.

And that's how 50 year after first contact, smart enough humans plucked themselves out of their home planet, leaving the dumber part of the group, behind.

Uvuk Dhasso, Galaxy Historian.___

enlightenment

!MESSAGE BEGINS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

!MESSAGE ENDS

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

Original Source

Reddit Post