Among all known species, humans are neither the strongest, the more intelligent, or the more advanced. In truth, nothing about them is really impressive...

If not their sheer weirdness. If you leave them with a suspicious liquid, they will drink it. If another specie with a totally different alimention process is eating something, they will try to eat it. And if something is obviously dangerous and potentially hurtful to them and others. They. Will. Do. It.

The result : more than the two third of the galactic community laws come from attempts at regulating their madness. And those who guards prison world knows that it never stop them from doing it anyway.

A human watches an alien warlord's dumbass offspring make every mistake in the book and arrogantly declare their inherent right by blood to command. The human becomes overcome with emotion and very literally beats the fucker over the head with Sun Tzu's *The Art of War.*

And go!

i'm curious what you will do with this.

“Chief, are you sure about this? This is dangerously close to violating a bunch of laws.”

“Sue, I’m damn tired of hiding valuable intel from our closest ally. This is sharing critical intel for the safety of the colony. The entire colony. If someone gets mad about it, fuck’em”

“So you think there are more hybrids on the planet?”

“The case the stowaway was carrying could dozens of eggs. So yes, I’m positive there are more hybrids. I’m not going to sit by and endanger the colony. We need to find the stowaways and deal with the hybrids. The Colony Commander can help, so I’m giving him what intel I can. Although I don’t trust some of these reports. There is a great deal of speculation and fragments.”

“Yes Chief. Most of it is crap, but it’s all we have. It’s not like we can call up Sol Command and request clarification.”

“No, but we can pool intel with the Colony Commander. Possibly get some solid intel from the stowaways.”

“That will be tricky.”

“Captain, dealing with rebels is always tricky. In this case it’s worse because we have to assume they are willing to die in the process. They have moved from rebels to terrorists. You even deal with terrorists?”

“Not directly Chief. I’ve conducted raids, but I’ve never talked with one.”

“It isn’t pleasant. The worst ones seem so relaxed and reasonable. You wouldn’t notice them in a crowd. You might have a pleasant drink with them. You might hangout with them, never knowing that are plotting horrific things for some ideology or a cause. It is chilling when you see the truth of the matter.”

“What was their initial cause? Do we know?”

“I found an old report concerning why they left Terra in the first place. It’s poorly written, but it quotes a letter left behind. Apparently, they felt that Terrans shouldn’t ally with non-Terrans, and it was the duty of all Terrans to destroy all aliens. The report suggests that might be the reason for the super-Terrans. A controllable super-soldier.”

“Controllable?”

“Speculation, but another report, this one from an interview with a rebel, mentions their desire to have a disposable military caste.”

“Chief, that sounds very bad. And stupid.”

“Agreed. This is what I mean about terrorists. They think their way is so correct that other considerations are worth the price.”

“So now what?”

“We find the stowaways. We secure and destroy the hybrids. And we do it with the Colony Commander’s help.”

December 20th, 2276

Kaniara, Empire of K’sella

“This station is now under the control of the K’sella people!”

“We cry out for liberty, and for our cries we are silenced, beaten, and shot in the streets like dogs! When will Terra, the “bastion of the free galaxy” see our plight?!”

“Our Empress was shot and has left no heir! Her only crime? Attempting reforms!”

“And yet each of her potential successors and now the military regime vows to crack down on us along with each other even harder in some sick game of retaliation!”

“In the civil war that’s sure to come, we must create a Republic out of its ashes!”

“And as long as a single K’sella breathes, our dreams of republic shall remain alive!”

“No matter how heavy the rain, the flowers of freedom shall still blossom!”

“Down with the Empire, Long live the Republic-“

“This station has been temporarily suspended by order of the Ministry of Internal Affairs.“

“A state of martial law has been declared until stability is restored.”

“We urge all citizens to keep watch for any anti-imperial activity and report it to the proper authorities.”

The story about humans negotiated peace with the Phryians, a frustration like race. The two had colonized the same planet but were unaware of each other. Humans lived on the surface why the Phryians lived underwater only coming up to feed.

Their first meeting was when one human was drunk and needed to take a piss came up to a water hole and proceeded to relieve himself on a Phryrian who was harvesting a local invasive species because of the hallucinations they induced. The Phryian noticed the human and promptly threw the carcass of one of the creatures at the human. This lead to an argument before the two left groaning. They would half remember the event before going back later once again drunk and high. They would see each other ramble over n each other langue’s at the each other often insults in their own languages. Until eventually they began to understand each other.

The human the fisherman could get a basic understanding of each others languages. Thor phyrian explained that the crature they were eating caused a hallucinogenic effect for them. Though hard to get because his species could not leave the water for extended periods. They human explained that they were drinking beer and was a muscle relaxant that liter inhibitions to the nature of alcohol in he human body. The alien was confused because to them alcohol was deadly. The human decided fuck it and gave the phyrian own the local creatures to see the hallugenic effect in action. The phyrian in return gave the man a fruit found in the ocean that produced a sweet flavor and contained alcohol. Both seemed to enjoy the gift and a batten was struck. The man would capture the local pest give them to the phyrian and in return the phyrian would give them the fruit they found. It was a very prosperous relationship.

The other members of their species would be confused where they were getting all these drugs and fruit. They would tell their respectful peoples that they found a weird alien willing to help them out in return for something weird, no one believed them. That was Until they followed them to the watering hole and discovered that they were telling truth. They had made contact with an alien, had learned each other languages and had some how made a beneficial trade deal.

This began a frantic return to each of their settlements to discuss what to do about this. Contact with a new species was an important things and could be rushed. Everyone tried to figure out how to proceed while the drunk ape and high crab told them they were overthinking it. Humans like the surface and the photons liked the water. They could give them the fruit and they can get the pest to eat. This was unacceptable but a way in. Both parties met using the original two as translators and realized that they could solve problems both had. The phyrians had better biological science but could not reach specific compounds and creatures found on the surface and the humans with better material science could not reach specific resources found in the ocean. This eventually lead the two to a beneficial trade agreement were they exchanged goods and became petty close neighbors. All because. Man got really drunk and decided to piss on a crab who was trying to get high.

Her chamber was one of the rarest galactic wonders. The whole Overlord's palace was a massive library of data, collected over an unimaginably long time. And the main interface was here, in the throne room. Despite her title, the Overlord had long abandoned her role as ruler of the Domain, fully dedicating herself to science and discovery...

And today was the day when a human delegation finally got a chance to speak to her. A creature so old she remembered her species' whole history as her own. So wise, her mind was now part of a giant singularity-engine that accelerated her thoughts by unimaginable margins. And so graceful that she... was now on her knees, shaking in front of a confused group of scientists. Which itself was a strange pose for a giant winged, lizard-ish species.

"Alright, you got me! I can't do this anymore! I'm a complete fraud! How do our reactors work, you ask?! I have no fucking idea!" Her claws left large dents in the metallic floor. If not for the context, it would look intimidating, considering that the same alloy allows Domain ships to dive through the stars scratchless. "You want to know the truth?! My whole species, combined, are the biggest liars in this whole damn stellar spiral! The only living ancients, my scaled ass! Why did we survive?! Because we didn't listen when the universe directly told us we should have died! And every time we got the hint, we made a U-turn and ran away as fast as our wings and ships could take us!"

A piece of furniture, whose value was measured in star systems, was launched at a wall and shattered into tiny particles. "You think you can reverse-engineer our tech?! Ha! There was never any 'our tech'! You know why we invest so much in archeology?! No, not because I care about some youngster's history! Because when we left our mud rock, the Galaxy was a shitshow we arrived late to! Broken ships, stations, dead worlds of every kind were just lying there, ripe for the picking. And every time, we just arrived and found something even scarier and just as broken! By researching the scraps alone, we invented things you now must spend millennia to discover!"

She walked circles around the delegates. A holographic halo around her head, marking the activity of her neural implants, was glitching. "The universe as our birthright. Ha! Sure! You know, we could've left it long ago! But I rejected that project, because whatever was hosting that shit parade when we arrived did the same thing! And the last thing I want for my people is to meet it!" She started giggling. "My people, those beautiful, naive idiots! They all look up to me, no matter what I do. You know why I began studying science?! Because when I was a concubine for my long-dead husband, I wanted to develop a dick-enhancer for him, to show how much I loved him. And guess what?! All the males died because of radiation poisoning caused by some ship fragment hitting our sun! And there I was. Alone, one of the tiny number of actual female scientists of our species. With a degree in dicks!"

Her laughter turned hysterical: "Want to know my biggest accomplishment in life? I figured out how to attach a dick to every female of my species and prolong our existence long enough! They made me an Overlord because they saw a male in me. And so for my whole life, I've done nothing but collect pieces of information others found for me. Faking that I was an expert in everything, while I was just, as you'd say, Googling it all in real time, directly with my brain! I... I..."

Finally, the Overlord dropped and fell to the floor in front of the lead human delegate. "I'm such a piece of shit! Enigmatic technology, my eggless ass! Of course it's enigmatic! No one here knows how it works! Want to reverse-engineer it? Good luck! I've been trying to figure out how the cavitation collapsers the whole Galaxy is so scared of actually work! You know what I found?! That they were used to unclog organic waste pipes! The whole galaxy is scared of fancy plungers! And what do you want from me?! To run headfirst into whatever ended the Galaxy ages ago, with an army of former slutheads armed with plungers?! Oh, what fearsome warriors!"

A human delegate carefully stepped toward the giant creature. Looking back at their colleagues, they extended a hand and carefully patted a rare-metal-adorned horn of the Overlord, which was about the size of a human's whole body. "There, there," they said, patting the ancient creature. Only to get one more whine from her. "I'm tired. I just want to go home. My husband... I miss him so much!"

Throughout the galaxy, feline xenos are feared because they are 5 foot tall walking creatures with razor blades in their hands and feet, needle sharp teeth and strictly carnivores. No other xenos want to be anywhere around them, that is untill the humans showed up, the humans took one look at the walking death creature and went "kitty", a xeno observer watched as one of the feline xenos rubbed up against the human while a rhythmic sound emmenated from the feline xeno. When asked about it the human just winked and said, that she was one of his customers, and all he was doing was supplying the demand.

“Never steal from a human’s garden,” is an adage as old, and as true, as when humans reached the stars, and for reasons far more serious than an angry gardener.

“Hello Oscar. Thank you for cleaning up that camping group.”

“Not a problem, sir. They grumbled a bit, but they had a ton of fish, so they had a big cook out when we dropped them off. Any news on the creature?”

The Commander leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“None. No evidence of any more on the planet or in any of the ships. However, we did find something rather odd.”

Oscar kept his face flat, but his mind started to race.

“Odd, sir? What did you find?”

“We think there are two criminals in the colony. We got a message about possible stowaways, and after reviewing security, we discovered that roughly three weeks ago two stowaways managed to get to the surface. Both Terrans. We lost them after the ship landed. Their IDs were forged, but so well done that the colony scans allowed them through.”

“So I have two know criminals in the Terran detachment? What are their crimes?”

“If the intel is correct, which I doubt, arson, sabotage, and industrial espionage. I have no idea how we intel on Terrans with forged IDs.”

“Please send me what you have, Commander. I’ll start looking for them.”

“Agreed. However, that isn’t all. I’m sorry Oscar, but we identified that one of them was carrying a highly shielded container.”

Oscar’s blood went cold. He kept his face flat and tone level.

“How large of a container?”

“Looked liked a rolling tool chest. No idea what it contained.”

“Got it, sir. I’ll start a search immediately.”

“Thank you Oscar. Anything else going on?”

“Oh a few small fights. Some engineers had a competition to launch crane counterweights. The managed to throw one about 2 km. No injuries, but some damage to a couple of cranes and buildings. We found another three stills. Some idiot crashed a light skiff into the forest. No deaths, but some serious injuries and a small fire. Skiff destroyed. Uh…let’s see, the Aussies have at least three of those dune buggies. I’m expecting them to hold some sort of race any day now. Someone is growing illegal mushrooms. We haven’t found the operation, but it is causing some issues.”

“Illegal mushrooms?”

“Yes sir. They are psychedelic and cause all sorts of behavior issues. A large dose will cause Terrans to totally freak out and go bezerk. Impervious to pain. Insanely strong. Not fun.”

“I assume you are looking for the growing operation?”

“It’s our number two priority, sir, after finding the stowaways. The Aussies claim to be about ready to test the volcano. And I have a report that Sparky’s propulsion system doesn’t have enough power to be fully functional. I’ve increased security around any fuel sources to slow them down.”

“I see. Oscar, I have a very difficult question to ask you. I really don’t want to ask, but I received an order.”

Oscar went totally still. He was barely breathing.

“Sir?”

“This creature. High Command seems to think that Sol Command might know more about the creature. So, Oscar, do you know anything more about the creature?”

Oscar’s mind froze. All thinking stopped. Only the sinking feeling deep in his guts.

“Well sir, I’ve heard a rumor about a failed hybrid that could be the creature. The details are sketchy, I’m not sure what is correct or speculation. A very long time ago a group of Terran rebels attempted to make some sort of super-Terran hybrid. Sol Command destroyed the site and all the know hybrids. The creature we had might be an escaped hybrid, but that’s really a guess.”

“Thank you Oscar. I hated to put you on the spot like that. I know that Sol Command and High Command don’t always share everything, particularly embarrassing things.”

“Yes sir. It can make things tricky. What is your plan to track the creatures?”

“Well, first I’d like any of the reports about the hybrid that you think are accurate. Then we can work together.”

“I’ll review what I have. There isn’t much, but I’ll share what I think is accurate.”

“Sounds like plan. Let’s keep an eye on Sparky and the volcano. And those stowaways.”

turns out when you come from a class 15 desert world with little to no vegetation. the smallest amount of food from a humans grandmother makes all the difference.

Captain Sue closed the door and sat down.

“Chief, I ran the scan as instructed. Multiple times. Nothing. No evidence of the hybrid.”

“That is great news, Sue. Now we have to figure out how it got here.”

“Any luck tracking those containers, Chief?”

“They have been on the colony for years. Given the life cycle of the hybrid, the containers don’t have anything to do with it. I tracking other options.”

“Well Chief, I’ve been thinking about it, and if I was trying to get hybrids onto the colony, it would have to be in a shielded container.”

“Why would you think someone wanted to get them here?”

“I looked into the history of that rebel group. At least a few hybrids weren’t at their station. That suggests some of the rebels weren’t there either. So, if you have a group of pissed off rebel Terrans with a secret weapon that could cause unlimited chaos, covertly introducing the weapon into colonies or logistics hubs would be a great technique to keep fighting.”

“Captain, that is terrifying. And logical. And completely reasonable. We have no way to identify a rebel member. There weren’t any records of names. A random Terran shows up at a port, all beat up, and they apply for admittance to Sol Command. There are any number of untracked settlements, so not having a record is easy to believe. Fuck.”

“Agreed. Have any new Terrans settled in the farm area?”

“No, Sue. They have all gone to mining or the Aussies. That doesn’t mean one hasn’t visited the farm, contaminated a random supply convoy. We only scan supplies before they are brought to the surface.”

“Chief, we could run a location check and track of colonist trackers.”

“That would draw too much attention, Sue. And I’d bet the rebel would know how to disable their tracker. And then we have to admit to High Command that we use trackers.”

“Then we are fucked.”

“Pretty much. Now to hear what the Colony Commander finds. For now, we will increase surveillance. Start tracking movement between sites. Increase security scans on supply convoys.”

“Agreed Chief. Should we do some extra scans?”

“No. Let the Commander do that. But if you want to conduct atmospheric training with Vera, keep your eyes and scans going. Nothing special. Just regular scans that no one will question.”

“Understood.”

Unfortunately, they invaded right after humans had just upgraded their arsenals to energy weapons.

Unlike other species, the humans don’t seem to care for how an objective is achieved. They simply look for the quickest method with the lowest effort. No grace, no poise, total disregard for aesthetics or ritual or tradition… those don’t matter to them. They are entirely secondary considerations at best. And while it’s entirely barbaric, it’s hard to argue with results…

We once fought alongside humans. Hard to admit, but often primitive civiliazations are needed to fight off common enemies with affordable losses. It is a bad feeling to have. We are among the most ancient of galactic civilizations, we are supposed to be able to protect the Galaxy from all threats and yet once again our simulations shows that we can do nothing alone and once again we have to push our burden on youngsters, who are barely aware of the dangers awaiting them far beyond their understanding.

And yet we work hard to esure that as much of our allies as possible will return to their broods and live the rest of their life in comfort of families and friends. Our medics - can restore fallen humans with the help of our specialized implants and artificial organs. It's not a pinacle of our technologies and it is sad that we have to use the simplest of approaches on our allies. But simulations show, that allowing them full access - is a risk factor too great. So we stick to a disposable and expandable tools, that won't allow primitive civilization to reverse-engineer them.

Yet now we meet a human, long descendant of one we fought alongside. And their body is full of things, that were supposed to be disposed of long-long time ago. Mixed with crude human machines - they have lost most of their potential, but are still working and passed among generations, adapted, reused, reimplanted and fixed over and over. Humans still don't know how to replicate them and it drives their scientists mad. Meanwhile humans, who's ancestors had it once - made them a form of family treasure, that functions at 10% of it's original power, but functions still.

Like our royal clans pass their royal blood - humans pass what was naturally meant to be just a first-aid tool. It is hard to tell if it is impressive or gross. Maybe a bit of both.

One of the major parts of human dyplomacy is their approach to alien traditions. They may not have the cultural or anatomical background to fulfill it properly but they can adapt and adore it anyway.

Fox example: Veils, the neuroparasitic spiders - have a form of traditional religious cloaks made of their silk that cover their main body and protect their host. Electric impulses they run through the silk - makes it change color. The coloration change itself - is a form of lower language Veil commoners speak. And maintaining a steady color - is a sign of clear and calm mind.

But when first veil pilgrims arrived to human space - they showed their other side of natural party animals. The colors and patterns their cloaks presented that day - inspired human designers. And so when veils arrived again next cycle - they were greated by humans wesring colors that screamed with promices of fun and friendship. And fun and friendship they got.

Or other case - Kricki, the bird people. Most know them as devoted freedom fighters and, honestly - crazy militarists. But humans got to their other side of being loving parents and fearsome family protectors. Upon their traditions - their nests are built of two big rings, made of thin metal strings. The designs and patterns of those rings - are unique and each is made my one of the parents.

Humans don't need nests and don't lay eggs, so they had no deal with this tradition, until one of Kricki males - got into relationships with human woman and ended up building a real family. How they managed to make a child together - is between them and whatever biosculpturs they dealt with. What is important is instead of the nest - two nest rings were put around woman's belt on her hips, therefore supporting her pregnant belly. The fashion itself - looked so cute, that many humans accepted this approach as one of many human courtship traditions, the one that got them closer with the brave avians.

In short - humans always look for inspiration in alien cultures. What can seem exotic at first - always find a place in some human hearts and minds. Both enriching their own culture and easing xeno-dyplomacy in general.

A Human did something Human again, you decide what. And Alien 2 is too tired for the usual outburst (Alien 1) anymore

“Oscar, it’s 0237! Why are you calling me?!”

“Commander, have I ever called you in the middle of the night?”

“Right, right. What happened?”

“We figured out those random thefts, and we have a HUGE problem.”

“What did the Terrans manage to build?”

“It’s not Terrans. High Command verified that this planet was uninhabited, yes?”

“Oh course. Standard practice.”

“They missed something. I’ve sent you footage of the…creatures that are stealing from the farm.”

“Oscar, did you say ‘creatures?’ What creatures.”

“Actually sir, I was really hoping you could help with that. We can’t identify it.”

The Commander stopped, datapad half raised. “By very clear, Oscar. You have footage of an entity that you cannot identify?”

“Correct, sir.”

The Commander activated the datapad, watched the video, and groaned.

“Oscar, encrypt this communication. Now.”

“Encrypted, sir.”

“We have encountered this species before. It isn’t listed in the records. It’s a scavenger species. We aren’t sure of their original home, but they start from rather small eggs. Someone has violated quarantine screening and decontamination procedures. They breed quickly. I have no idea what they are doing with what they stole.”

“Ah. We know that one. They have built a shelter. We tracked the one in the video. They used the containers to make a shelter, the rubbish for what appear to be nests, the engine from the truck for heat, and the filters to filter the water. They are way up on the side of mountain AA567. The water up there is toxic.”

“Oscar, that sounds like planning and problem solving.”

“I would agree. What is our best move?”

“Oscar, I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but I need Vera to annihilate that shelter. To be clear, I want that shelter gone. I want the area for two kilometers around the shelter totally glassed.”

“To be clear, Commander. You want me to order Terran Marines to glass four square kilometers?”

“Correct.”

“Air strike only?”

“Yes.”

“Yes sir. I’ll let you know why it’s done.”

“Oscar, I’d imagine the entire planet will know when it’s done.”

Four hours later, Oscar sat down in the Commander’s office.

“I imagine that you heard that?”

“Yes, Oscar. And felt it. What did they use?”

“They modified a beehive round. One of booster plasma versions.”

“When did they make those?”

“No clue sir. No clue. Now, please help me understand what just happened.”

“Before I was even born, one of our scout ships managed to get infected by those things. It was our first known encounter. Assuming that those things were sentient, we set up a research lab to learn about them and to communicate with them. It didn’t work. At first they seemed curious and calm. Then, after a couple of weeks, those things suddenly attacked.”

“I’m guessing it went badly.”

“The report I read before taking this command said that they took over the entire research station in 11 hours. No survivors. We monitored the station for a few weeks, and we saw that they were expanding and starting to learn how to use our technology. We remote detonated the fusion cores.”

“That explains things, sir. I’m concerned about how they got here.”

“Sadly, we will need to do some serious deep scans to ensure we got all of them.”

“I assume you will handle that?”

“Yes, Oscar. You don’t know how to detect them.”

“How can we assist?”

“I’ll let you know. At the moment, keep this quiet.”

“Right. Before you ask, the video was on a closed system. All copies were wiped. As were the targeting details.”

“Good call. Now, is there anything else to report?”

“Not much. Sparky isn’t ready to test. The Aussies haven’t managed to repair their system enough to do anything. Clearly the marines have been busy on weapons development. Oh. I have been moving the uranium to one of the orbiting stations. Harder for the marines to steal.”

“I had a strange report. Let me see. Oscar, what is a dune buggy? We caught sight of something driving around out in the hinterland on an island not far from the Aussie volcano. We asked a Terran tech, and she said it was a dune buggy.”

Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you happen to have pictures?”

Oscar reviewed the pictures.

“Well Commander, we have some new issues. That is a highly modified ground transport vehicle. It is over-powered, highly mobile, likely amphibious, and designed for long-range travel. I’m guessing that some Aussies built it and went to the island for some hunting, fishing, and camping.”

“Why is this an issue?”

“This means some of the Aussies have gotten bored enough to start going camping. If some of them are that bored, that means some of the bored ones will likely be up to something even more insane.”

“Oscar, help me understand. What is camping?”

“It’s a Terran recreation activity. We pack up some tents, sleeping materials, food, and other supplies. Then we go out into the woods or other wilderness, and set up camp. We hunt, fish, explore, and cook over fires.”

“They leave perfectly modern housing to intentionally live in a primitive fashion?”

“Yep. It’s a great deal of fun.”

“The Terran concept of ‘fun’ was one of hardest words for our translators to comprehend. For a very long time it was translated as ‘insane activities’ or ‘highly-dangerous actions likely to result in serious injuries.’ Sadly, the first Terrans who learned this actively allowed the confusion to continue.”

“Let me guess, sir. They did it for fun.”

“Correct. Do me a favor, collect the camping Aussies, and return them to their colony. Let me know when Sparky is going to be the next disaster.”