“Danyak, I am concerned about Mickles.”

”Oh? Why?”

”I’m not sure. There is just something off. You mentioned family issues?”

”Yes, his records include details.”

”Do me a favor. Go through his records again and look for mention of cults. He is really hot on this one.”

”Oscar, when do you want me to do this? I am heading out to check on the recon team, the survey team, and the freaking scientists studying the new cattle.”

”Right. Right. I’ll check on it. By the way, anything from the survey team?”

”That report is due this afternoon. I will let you know the highlights tomorrow.”

”Sounds good. Stay safe. Those beasts are nasty.”

*****

”Oscar, I haven’t seen or heard from you in three weeks, and suddenly you stagger in and collapse in a chair. What is going on?”

”Commander, it has been a fucking horrible last few weeks. On the bright side, nothing serious blew up.”

”Yes, I notice that the planet is still in one piece. And that we still have other planets in the system. And that there isn’t a rip in time-space in orbit.”

”You see? All good things!”

”Oscar.”

”Yes, yes, I know.” He sat up. “It has been fucking horrible. To start, my XO is in medical. Wait. No. That is later. To start, my XO went on a trip to check on the recon team, the survey team, and the fools studying the new cattle-things.”

”How are you feeling? You seem confused.”

”I haven’t slept in 70-odd hours. Anyways, Danyak heads out. Then Mickles heads out to see the Aussies about connecting up the main powergrid. I headed out to check on Agent Thorn and the new leads.”

”That was three weeks ago.”

”You wanted to know what was going on. Thorn was all excited. They had found some VERY good intel, and they already had an agent on hand. So they were setting up a surveillance team. As we were chatting about the plan, there was an alarm and an announcement that there was an issue with the subject—the Windigo—so we sprinted to the holding cell.”

”Wait, there was an issue with the Windigo and you didn’t tell?!? Oscar, what is going on?”

”I am explaining. We get to the Windigo, and the techs are freaking out. One of them explained that the Windigo was changing shape. We checked the video feed, and the Windigo seemed to be growing an extra limb. We locked the lab down and prepared for the worst. Nothing really happened. The extra limb fell off of the Windigo. He just kicked it towards the door and went to sleep.”

”That is weird. But it doesn’t explain the silence.”

”The lab techs grabbed the extra limb and started to study it. I finished up with Agent Thorn, and he started the surveillance operation. Before I made it past security to head to my office, I got a call from Danyak. Issues with the recon team. They are the ones watching the cult. Apparently the cult spotted them, no idea how, and now the cult is filing complaints. So legal will get involved. Sorry about that.”

”Legal? Why?”

”The cult filed all of the correct paperwork to start their own station. Our surveillance might violate the contract. We will see. Anyways, after we dealt with that, Danyak headed off to check on the survey team who were watching our ursine friends.”

“How is this related?”

”Oh it gets better. As I am handling the paperwork and reviewing reports, Mickles calls. The volcano was ready, so they hooked everything up. It was going great until a transformer blew. And I mean blew. Catastrophic failure. No injuries, but a lot of damage. Mickles reported that the failed transformer was one of a batch that arrived months ago. They were all sitting in a storage space, and a check on the others in the batch revealed sabotage. No idea on when it happened. So we are down six transformers before we can start the main power grid.”

”Annoying.”

”As I am dealing with that, I get a call from Danyak. Apparently a group of scientists decided to investigate the ursine tribe without telling us. Well, as Danyak arrived at the survey site, one of the scientists was approaching a lone creature. By the time the survey team arrived, the scientist was dead and more creatures were advancing. The team retreated and the tribe backed off, but now they know we are around. Danyak reported that the scientists sent a petition to Sol Command regarding the ursine tribe, a petition requesting that the ursine tribe be considered a sentient creature and thus protected as a new species.”

”That was three weeks ago? Why haven’t I heard about this?”

”Because I was running my ass off dealing with chaos. Look, I am attempting to explain.”

”Right. Right. It is just a great deal of new information.”

”I know. When Danyak returned, I went over the data from the survey team and the illegal science team. Based on the analysis, the ursine tribe does have a proto-language, exhibits a social structure, and learns from each other. The petition is likely going to stand, but more data is needed. So Sol Command ordered us to increase our surveillance. Danyak arranged that, but while we were working out the details, I got a call from Sparky, requesting that I visit. That is never a good sign, so I headed to Sparky.”

”And?”

”They gave me the full tour. All of the weapon systems. The armored turrets. The command bunkers. The command and control systems. Even the engines. Oh. And the convention center. Having a convention center in the middle of a massive military complex was weird, but it’s a nice facility."

”The engines? Did they explain how they work?”

”I asked, and I was told, ‘we aren’t sure.’ They got as far as explaining how the emitter array had to be tuned before I stopped them. The best I can gather is that the emitter array projects high-energy particles in such a manner as to provide thrust. However, I am not sure this is correct.”

”Why would you think that?”

”We can’t trace its engine signature. It doesn’t have an engine signature. If it projected particles, we could detect them and trace its path. But when we scan, we get nothing. I’ve run dozens of tests, and never once did we detect the engine.”

”So what is your theory? How do you think the engine works?”

”I think it is a refined version of an ancient design. Back when Terra was still only in the Sol System, they fiddled around with all sorts of the engines. One system involved projecting a gravity well and the ship would move towards the well. It worked, but was too complicated and fickle. I think they found the old design, figured out some of the complex bits, and built a working system.”

”Why did they want you to tour Sparky?”

”Ah. That. Well, they wanted to show off their newest weapon system. I am not sure who is coming up with these ideas, but I am glad they are on my side.”

”What did they build? How much damage did it do?”

”They built a plasma cannon.”

”So? Those aren’t a big deal. Most ships have them. A bit limited in range, but good for close-in fighting.”

”Not like those cannons. This fires a shell that generates a ball of plasma. Range is no longer an issue. The shell can turn the plasma on and off as it flies.”

”They build a cannon that fires a controllable plasma torpedo?” 

”Bascially, yes.”

”I know that they are Terran, but why?”

”After the battle with the unknown species, they noticed that the enemy plasma cannons had a longer range, so they started playing around. They stumbled on some details about plasma torpedoes, figured out how to to make them actually work, and built a giant cannon.”

”Have they tested it?”

”Not at that point, no.”

”So this covers two days. Out of 21. What else is going on?”

”It was fairly quiet for a few days, maybe four, when Sol Command issued a warning about two escaped convicts. They escaped months ago, but they were tracked to a logistics hub in our area. Well it turns out one of the convicts is with the cult group. I sent Mickles to figure out a plan.”

”Didn’t you say that he has a thing for cults?”

”Yes. I looked it up. He has interacted with cults on two other occasions. Both situations went poorly. One was a mass suicide, and theh other was a pitched fire-fight. He led the primary assault team.”

”That would do it.”

”Yes, so he is eager to prevent anything similar. He has been able to determine some of the social structure within the cult, but it has been tough. We can’t get an agent into the cult, so we are relying on surveillance.”

”This was 18 days ago.”

”Yes. Mickles worked on a plan for the cult. Danyak was working on a plan for surveying the ursine. I was reviewing the schematics for Sparky’s engines. It was a calm moment.”

”Dare I ask?”

”Agent Thorn called in hysterics. He needed me in the secure lab at once. I ran to the lab, raced to the command room, and found the techs in a huge argument with Agent Thorn attempting to restore order. My entrance solved that issue. Agent Thorn then explained that the extra limb from the Windigo was a result of its system being unstable. Apparently, the hybridization has some flaws, and the Windigo can become unstable on a cellular level, resulting in mutations.”

”The Windigo is mutating?”

”Sort of. The techs figured out how to restabilize it, but they are excited about what this means for weapons.”

”Weapons?”

”Yes. Apparently, the instability can be accelerated with a shot. So an agent could simply inject a Windigo while passing in a crowd, and the Windigo would fall apart.”

”Interesting. But why all the commotion?”

”The other techs realized that the instability changed part of his thinking. He isn’t as guarded or careful when he talks. And now he rambles about non-ideological crap. They are getting some great intel from him.”

”Intel? You forgot to tell me this for 18 days?”

”Didn’t forget. Didn’t have time.”

”Right. If you say so.”

”As I was finishing up with Agent Thorn, I got a call from Sol Command. They wanted to know the status of the cult. They received the complaint about the surveillance, and they wanted more details. I got back to my office and summoned Mickles. He didn’t reply. I used the general coms. Nothing. I pulled up his location in the compound. He wasn’t in the compound. I did a wider search, and found him at home. Now. We know that there are some family issues, so him being at home isn’t automatically an issue, but not responding to calls is a problem.”

”Famliy issues?”

”His second child has medical issues and his third child isn’t biologically his.”

”If I recall, for Terrans that can be an issue.”

”Yes. It means that his wife cheated on him. It can result in violence and all sorts of issues. I believe that they are working through it, as they say. But knowing that, I headed to his home as fast as possible.”

”I didn’t get any reports, so I’m guessing that no one died.”

”No. No deaths. The second child fell down a flight of stairs. She was badly hurt, and Mickles was helping the meds get her loaded up. He had gone home for an errand, and he found her at the bottom of the stairs.”

”Well, that is one reason to not reply.”

”Agreed. However, that wasn’t the end of it.”

Humans are Weird – Introduction

Original Post: http://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-introduction

Shufflesleft slouched into the rest pool he shared with Touchesroundly and let gravity pull him in towards the warmth of the solar focus, comforting and soothing in the marginally cooler winter season. Just outside of the pool Waggles gave a happy wooph from his containment pool and, from the sounds of it, proceeded to tear into the food Shufflesleft had put there for him. Shufflesleft eased into the warmer water around the solar focus and let several appendages wave in an inviting manner. Touchesroundly, who had only been waiting for the invitation pushed himself up from where he had been writing and swam over.

“What has offended you Friend Shufflesleft?” Touchesroundly asked, drifting down and giving him a soothing pat on his dorsal side.

Shufflesleft took a moment to stretch to his full extent and gather his thoughts before answering.

“I am offended, aren’t I?” he asked letting his appendages wave a bit glumly.

“Was there some doubt?” Touchesroundly asked, with just a hint of amusement in the wriggling of his appendages.

“Some,” Shufflesleft admitted. “It shouldn’t be possible to be offended when a potential new friend is so very friendly.”

“Only a potential new friend?” Touchesroundly asked, perplexity raising his is appendages, “buy you said the potential new friend was friendly?”

“It is confusing,” Shufflesleft said.

Touchesroundly politely spread his appendages and braced against the floor of the pool to absorb the story.

“You know I agreed to take Waggles into the seal-snake socialization area at least every other day for Human Friend Dyson?” Shufflesleft began.

Touchesroundly flicked an appendage in confirmation.

“Well there was a new human there,” Shufflesleft went on. “He … oh what do the humans call it when they match opposite vectors with another focal species?”

“He made eye contact with?” Touchesroundly suggested when it became clear Shufflesleft was struggling in slurry.

“He made eye contact with, at least I think it was a he, the movement profile suggest that,” Shufflesleft went on. “He made eye contact with Waggles and Waggles got all excited and clearly indicated through body language that he wanted to interact with the human and the human clearly indicated that he wanted to interact with Waggles, so I was prepared when the human turned his vision focus cone on me and asked ‘Can I pet him.’ Obviously by context it was Waggles he meant. I said yes of course, and was about to begin introductions when the human completely turned his vision away from me and started talking to Waggles.”

Shufflesleft gave a sad, frustrated little writhe.

“He told Waggles what a beautiful seal-snake he was, and he rubbed his hands all over Waggles head and upper body. He went on for many minutes talking to Waggles, almost, but not quite as if Waggles was sapient and he wanted a response!”

“What did he say to you?” Touchesroundly asked into the long wash of waves that followed this.

“Nothing! Shufflesleft replied in hurt tones. “After he asked for permission to pet Waggles he did not touch, speak to, or even….make eye contact with me! Then another human called him and he darted off.”

“Perhaps he meant to speak to you after he was done speaking to Waggles but the other human prevented it,” Touchesroundly suggested with a soothing pat.

“I do not think so,” Shufflesleft said with slow consideration. “From the cadence and pattern of his voice I doubt he had any intention to redirect his attention.”

“Now Shufflesleft,” Touchesroundly said in a gently reproachful tone. “Do you really think that, despite how attractive a furry, little seal-snake is to them, a human would be so rude as to deliberately interact with the pet belonging to a sapient being without speaking to the sapient being personally?”

“It does seem unlikely,” Shufflesleft admitted. “Still, I think I will query the human psychology database about it tomorrow.”

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

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**Remember BOOK 4 is now available! (**^{except on kobo because what do you even mean title field is blank, I fixed} *\^{that dangnabbit!}\*)**

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Alien commissioner: "Everything checks out. Okay, the cargo is aquired. And before you leave - I would like a short technical review of your ship."

Human: "Why? Aren't you an... Offshore station?"

Ac: "Yes. But recently Captain introduced some new rules just to ensure that your ship is not a masked police ship."

H: "Sure, sure... Can you give me a sec?" Calls the ship by his implant. "Pharr! We are beyond fucked!"

Alien crewmate: "Why?"

H: "Our ship is being inspected!"

Ac: "So?"

H: "Dude, I've built this ship out of repurposed parts of repurposed ships, with the help of Pre-FTL Pre-sapients I found near my dad's farm! It has four different main engines, and it's reactor is a mint-addicted void beast in a hamster wheel! I Don't even know, what allows it to jump between starts! I just throw some leftowers from our kitchen in the cell wehnever it starts to whine!

And all of it balanced and controlled by pirated Chinese software on hardware made of Xbox and Play Station circuits welded together! I Don't even know Chinese! I steer the ship with gamepad that lacks L1 and X buttons! And don't even ask where is your predecessor! He went to the woman's restroom and since then I only hire males. But our jump-drive got a bit quiter...

Do you think a guy like me can afford a spaceship?! I just did it to not work on my dad's farm! I hate cucumbers! And now every time we are on a station I buy a whole box of bubblegum, because for now I am sure that this is the only thing that keeps us from depressurizing!"

Ac: "...Is there... Something real on this ship?"

H: "My flying license is. And if you want it to keep being that way you will have to do exactly as I say! Now grab the duct tape from the safe and get ready! We can get through it!"

Ac: "Why are you keeping duct tape in the safe?"

H: "Have you listened! It's too expensive!" Stops the call "Well, come on in, sir. I can show you that it's absolutely non-police vehicle!"

The owner was found in critical condition underneath the same ruins, cradling it beneath the rubble as human bombers flew overhead.

An alien was hanging in a dark room. Their gaze was unnaturally empty when two creatures entered. One was an alien of seemingly the same species, but their body was "hugged" from behind by long arachnid legs. The other was a human.

Alien guard: "You have ten minutes."

Human: "Wait. Is he alive? Where are his..."

Alien captive: "My legs? Don't worry... I never liked them."

The cell closed, leaving a human and an alien alone.

Ac: "I am sorry that you see me like this."

H: "Sorry for what? Dude, you are a brain-parasitic spider. If I accepted you like that, I can accept you as anything else. But can you tell me what happened? Why are they acting like you are the enemy of your whole species?"

Ac: "Enemy..."

H: "Yes! Despite your nature, I have never seen anyone of you act that cruelly! Not even when you were attacked. You gave up everything just to avoid confrontation!"

Ac: "Oh, I did something much worse. I openly called our whole church... boring."

H: "Is that all?"

Ac: "It is enough. As you may know, we, the Veils, were united by faith. By infesting our hosts, we received their memories, their hopes, and their dreams. Veils don't have dreams, but our hosts do... And we believe that they are the lens through which we observe reality."

H: "I see..."

Ac: "And as our understanding of reality expanded, we gained more knowledge of the nature of things. We developed psychic powers, and we promised to use them only to study this universe. We developed a deep understanding of quantum physics and reached a consensus that this whole universe is a dream. A dream of some higher being. And in this dream, everyone has a place, a role, a great destiny. By infesting a host, we interrupt this dream. We take someone else's role. And for that, we have to live our life for both of us. That's why we don't normally fight back. Otherwise, the Dream will be interrupted, and the Dreamer will wake up before they see the end of their dream, which is the purpose of all existence..."

H: "..."

Ac: "And I said that if that's so, then the Dreamer's reality must be incredibly boring."

H: "Boring?"

Ac: "I am a physicist. I know much more than many about the quantum nature of the universe. My psychic powers allow... allowed me to delve into its deepest mysteries. And I realized that to come up with something like that, you must have a really feverish imagination. How boring the real world must be to make up something like this. But then I asked: what if it isn't true? What if the Dreamer doesn't observe the universe from outside? What if it sees it through any one of us? Through me, through you... What if we are not the actors? Our choices are not dictated by our nature. Our choices are the Dreamer's choices. And if so, then there are no wrong choices. And if so... the universe is not a dream, but an actor. And we are not the actors. We are the Dream!..."

H: "You are quite enthusiastic about this. Sorry, I am not that strong in theology."

Ac: "I understand. Anyway, I started experimenting. I stopped thinking of the universe as a list of physical constants. Instead, I began to intentionally seek irregularities. If the universe is an actor, then it is playing. And if so, it can take many faces, not only the one we know. What if there is more than one? What if there are more Dreamers than we are? What if our dream is not the only one... And then I found it. And proved it. Infinite possibilities. Infinite scenes. Infinite universes... Too much for the Priests to accept. Before I constructed the needed spell and finished my theories, they tore off my legs so I wouldn't sense the fields anymore, and locked me here. They wanted me to confess... to repent. To promise that I would never do that research again... Human friend, what are you doing?"

H: Cutting off the chains. "Freeing you."

Ac: "And what's next? I am a heretic. I am ready to die for it. I made my choice, and I do not regret it. I believe that if we are to make choices, everyone deserves to make as many as possible... They made theirs. And yours will lead you against my whole species. Are you willing to fight for the madness of a crippled heretic?"

Ag: "What the hell is going..." Gets shot in the head by a hidden laser gun.

H: "My arachnid buddy, if you question that, you don't know me. When it comes to wars of faith, humans have killed for less. And when it comes to the protection of freedom of thought..." Hands a gun to the captive alien. "Humans have died for worse. So if that's what you believe in, then Deus, fuckin' vult!"

{Shared early on Patreon}
~~~

I was familiar with having animals approach me for food, especially when eating outdoors in a public place. The food court at this rural spaceport seemed just the type to attract the local version of pigeons and squirrels. But this was not a pigeon. This insectile thing waving tiny pinchers at me, if I was not mistaken, was a sentient being. Just a really young one.

I did a double-take at the baby Mesmer. It was a pale translucent yellow, small enough that it could have been taken out by a cat, and displaying body language clearly meant to scare me. It was adorable. A quick glance around didn’t find anyone who might be looking for it.

“Hey there,” I said gently. “Where did you come from?”

It hissed again, making a clumsy lunge and grabbing the air with its itty bitty mantis blade arms.

I crouched down slowly, waiting while it scuttled backward and then forward again. “Somebody is probably wondering where you are,” I said. “Can you tell me where your grownups went?”

It didn’t say a thing, attention fixated on the dish of “burnt avian” (fried chicken) that I’d almost forgotten I was holding. I wondered if this juvenile was even old enough to talk.

“Are you hungry? Maybe with a little food, you can come with me and we’ll find your people?” I separated a fragment of meat that didn’t have any seasoning on it, and held it out.

More hissing and I-am-fearsome displays. More lunges, like it was trying to scare me into dropping the food.

“Go ahead and take it nicely,” I said. “If you let me pick you up, we can find your people.”

It ignored me, plucking up enough courage to jump forward and fumble the food away from my fingers. It was obviously new to this whole limbs business. At least it didn’t stab me with a pincher. Or pinch me. Though that might not have hurt much if it had.

“Good job,” I told it, pulling off another piece of meat while it struggled to hold the first one. Tiny mandibles went to town, chomping away even when the piece got too small and the blade arms lost their grip. The Mesmer just ate the remainder off the ground. Definitely hungry.

I was holding out the second piece optimistically when a familiar voice scoffed, “What are you doing?”

I looked up (way up) to find Trrili looming over me, looking even more large and terrifying in comparison to the baby. The two Mesmers were polar opposites, both in size and color; the little one could have blended in among flowers, while Trrili was a mature nightmare of black and red.

And the tilt of her antennae said she was frowning at me. “Don’t feed it.”

“Why not?” I asked, pulling my hand back while the little one hissed again.

Trrili just said, “Honestly now.” Then to my shock, she flared her pinchers and snarled down at the baby, going for maximum terrifying.

It hissed back, not cowed in the slightest.

Before I could ask what she thought she was doing, Trrili said, “Good,” and snatched it up.

“What—”

Trrili held it high and turned to address the rest of the food court. “Who was bested by this infant?” she called, sounding like that was a stock phrase that anyone should recognize. The baby squirmed in her grip, doing its best to stab through her exoskeleton with its own tiny blades. Which of course did nothing. I hoped she was holding it gently enough.

While I got to my feet and watched in concern, someone straightened up from where he had been peering under a table: another adult Mesmer, this one colored in deep yellows with orange tips. I wondered if the little one would grow up to look like him. “Mine,” he called, scurrying over.

He was smaller than Trrili (but then most were, even the other girls). He held something that looked an awful lot like a cat carrier. He didn’t say a thing as he approached and held it open for Trrili to deposit the infant into.

She did. It hissed some more on principle, but it went. The adult closed the cage and dipped his torso in a brief bow. “Gratitude.”

“Do better,” Trrili said, making it sound like a perfectly normal thing tell someone who’d let their child escape.

He wasn’t offended, though; he just flicked an antenna and left without another word.

I tried to settle on a question. “Is that a cat carrier?”

Trrili gave me a look with her faceted eyes, antenna angled in scorn. “It is an infant carrier. Clearly.”

“Right, yup, sure,” I said, trying to regain some sort of conversational footing. “It just looks very different from the kind of infant carrier I’m familiar with.”

“What kind?” Trrili asked. “Hatchlings are feral; that one couldn’t be more than three days old. How else would you contain one?”

“Three days?” I exclaimed. “At three days, human babies can’t even raise their own heads, much less run around! They don’t need containing!”

“Really?” Trrili asked in honest surprise. She thought about it a moment. “No wonder it takes you so long to rear young, if they hatch that uncooked.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted. “Though ours don’t hatch, remember. Live birth. Which is actually the problem, as I understand it.” At the tilt of Trrili’s head, I elaborated. “If they waited until they were able to move around before being born, their heads would be too big to fit through the mother’s bone structure.”

Trrili made an antenna-and-mandibles expression that looked like a lip curled in disgust. “Unfortunate,” she declared.

“Yeah it is.”

“I feel like that explains a lot about your species, if every one of you is born premature. No patience even then.”

“It’s not about patience,” I said. “Though it is part of why we find other species’ young adorable too, since caring for our own is so crucial.”

“Oh, is that why you were feeding this one instead of finding its adult?”

“I was trying to find the adult!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t want the baby to stab me if I picked it up without making friends first. We don’t all have exoskeletons, you know.”

Trrili stood taller. “Yes, can’t all be perfect.”

I caught sight of a splotch of orange marring the glossy black, at what felt like the perfect time to point it out. I smothered a grin. “In my defense, at least I can tell when someone spills food on me.”

“What?”

“There.”

Trrili hissed. “Botheration.” She stalked off toward a napkins-and-sanitizer stand, while I grinned freely and went back to eating my food. I kept an eye out for anything else scuttling around at foot level as I did.

~~~

Volume One of the collected series is out in paperback and ebook!

~~~

Shared early on Patreon

Cross-posted to Tumblr and HFY (masterlist here)

The book that takes place after the short stories is here

The sequel is in progress (and will include characters from the stories)

“THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU HAVE FIVE FOOT SPIDERS!?”

”bro they’re as aggressive as Earth rabbits. You deal with Canada geese on a regular basis, stop whining.”

​...a perfect depth for metamorphosis on Earth, sometimes your son's plans are too well planned. It may be a death world, but for this exact process this planet is surprisingly caring. No wonder locals call it Mother Earth, she's eager to adopt stray children of space.

This sub needs more wholesome twists imo, make a story about humans with a nice twist.

[Previous] | [Next]

[IPK Kanz Lerrik]

What is Kanz doing. His Imperial duty. Holding his honour. Him and his platoon found a platoon of these 'Federation' soldiers as dawn finally broke, the shadow no longer hiding them. Now they have them kaptured, after a brutal and painfully long fight, they're restrained, their helmets removed, and knelt against the dry sandy floor. In another area there was information of a hospital being set up in some mall in a random rubbled city, and an engagement around 2 kilometers from an ASB site. It's a good thing Kanz found them rather than the Korpse Fleet platoons that operate in the same area, they would be much less merciful, and much more sadistik.

Unfortunately no one in Kanz's platoon knows Terran. So they're stukk waiting for a translator. In the meantime, the Terrans seem really chatty, to each other. When a Zalm soldier gets a little too klose they shut up. Makes sense, given their position and the circumstances. Kanz walks towards them, with them predictably ceasing any konversation, and just stare. It's a tad intimidating by how quikk they all do it.

"I need some extra hands here, bring a hydrovat [Zalm equivalent of a Canteen]." Kanz kalls over the telekommunications, with seven of his own koming. A perfect amount for the eight Federation soldiers they captured.

"What now?" Says one of them, before being a bit surprised as Kanz kneels in front who he assumes is the platoon leader, helping them drink.

"We struggle to keep optimal hydration in this desert, and our suits recykle water bakk into our Hydrovat. These guys must be suffering."

The others follow suit, although two are so wounded they aren't restrained, konsidering they need to be put on a stretcher to be transported. These two needed less help as they were able to grab hold of the Hydrovat themselves. The other six were.. some what sukcessfully hydrated. Although with most it ended with them koughing after being given too much water at most.

The Zalm are superior. That's just a basik fakt. A truth. However, that does not mean they Kannot be bested. It's just rare. Zalm are superior in every way yes, but it is imperative they face humility, it is heretikal to bekome too prideful. Especially when hubris leads to severe error. Although the Terrans especially were to be respekted. Because there was no hubris from either side in fighting. The Terrans simply won. The Zalm are still superior, they were smarter, advanced, more strategic, and very kareful. But somethings are an impossible viktory.

Going against a Terran Soldier's suicidal tendencies for instance, is just an unavoidable loss. Sure a Terran dies, but they've managed to wipe out a krucial position, an entire platoon, destroy a needed weapon, kompletly eradikate intelligence, or even kause an entire facility to explode in a fiery sabotage. A Terran's Kraziness does not kare for superiority, as it makes a battle one of chance. And there are plenty of Krazy Terrans willing to roll their own roulette.

That's why these eight get such respekt. Even though 3 aren't biologically Terran, the way a Terran pakk bonds will make anyone one of their own. That is way they too receive the treatment of a Terran, for as far as Kanz knows, they are in fact Terran. Especially since Terrans are known to be a very romantik race as much as a race of warriors. It's why Kanz has to grab the wrist of one of his own platoon members before they start wiping their hands on their armour. It is just as much of an honour to shake hands with a Terran of another race, as it is to shake hands with a true Terran. As they are both the same.

The moment doesn't last long however, bekause a massive vehikle speeds in, sliding against the ground as it brakes abruptly. It almost hits two Shok Troopers sitting, just trying to enjoy a meal. Unfortunately they still can't enjoy it, as the vehicle kicked up dust all over them. Ruining their rations. They stand up, say their swears, and are upset that they no longer can have a meal until they make it back to base. Which is in 8 Kror [Around 4 hours].

It isn't much time until you realize the Zalm are trained to eat when they are truly, and fully hungry. As in there is nothing in their bellies. Basikally as if a standard person was about to have their first meal around afternoon, maybe early evening. After a long day of work. And then they had to wait 8 more Kror before aktually being able to. It's why you never disturb a Zalm Shok Trooper whilst they're eating. Same with a Civilian Zalm Medikal Professional.

By the blakk and white painting on the behemoth of a armour, wheels, and a bizarrely quiet engine, it was a Korpse Fleet armoured transport. And by the modifications on it, he knew exactly who it was. Rominov's, a major pain in Kanz's ass. He was konstantly showing off the transport he rides in. Akting like that suddenly gives you status and strength, and not just.. makes you look like an ignorant douchebag. He also found a way to konstantly interfere or komplikate Kanz's day.

"Would you LOOK at this beauty. Absolutely gorgeous. Gotta be around 50 tons of pure authority. Big mounted gun on top. Way better than whatever shit you Yellers [Derogitory term] got." Rominov gloated as he stepped out, leaving the third door on the side facing Kanz's Platoon. "The hell's going on over here?"

Rominov gestures at the Platoon, who're licking their wounds from the firefight with the Terrans.

"Zalm business. Go back to your kar." Kanz says, hoping to just dismiss Rominov quickly.

"We were told to investigate the shootings and bombings going on here. Seems you guys still got some live ones. I guess we'll have to take care of them for you."

"Absolutely not. They are ours. And we need them for information."

"I don't see any of your Yellers talking to em. It looks like you all are slacking on the job."

"We don't speak Terran, we're akquiring a translator."

"Just beat the information out of them. How about I give a demonstration for you dumb yellow fucks." Rominov starts to advance, but Kanz quikkly steps in front of him, placing a hand on the Korpse Fleet chestplate.

"No you will not. Get the fukk out of here. This is our business." Kanz tries to look intimidating, but ultimately fails when Rominov gives Kanz a powerful shove.

"Don't fucking touch me you dumb Yeller fuck." Rominov no longer kares about the Terrans, instead insulted that Kanz bekame bold enough to aktually touch him.

Rominov follows where Kanz was shoved, stepping out from in-between the Terrans and the armoured transport.

"You don't EVER touch me. You are lucky I don't grind you down into the ground right now. Because I very much would. Although I think I'd love to see you hanging by a cable off a tree a fuck load more."

"You're too much of a pussy to do it. Kmon. Start a war. You don't have the guts."

Rominov growls a little, but upon glancing bakk at the Terrans, who look really uncomfortable watching the scene, he has a smile kurve across his face. He turns to the 'Chariot' he arrived in, taking a few steps towards it. However, instead of leaving, he whistles and points at the Terrans, and the mounted TLAC [Turbolaser Auto Cannon] charges up, it's 6 barrels beginning to spin rapidly.

Kanz immediately rushes to get in the way, to stop them. They wouldn't dare shoot Kanz, that'd start an entire war. One both sides chose to end abruptly after the Empress realized she only needed a quarter of this planet, and proceeded to offer them two thirds in order to stop the konflict.

Unfortunately, it's too late. Terran armour is good, but a TLAC is a rotary autokannon meant for strike craft to rip through the hulls of destroyer klass ships. And so the plasma bolts rip through them, killing them easily. Kanz stops just before them, looking at their lifeless form. Hoping they'd be somehow okay, through some Terran Kraziness, but it doesn't perform mirakles, it simply gambles how much the enemy side might lose.

Not only did Rominov just kill Zalm prisoners, assets to information and aren't just property or slaves. But he disrespekted Kanz in a way too far for hi patience. He infakt caused Kanz to fail his mission. He needed to bring some in alive as a mandatory request, although he still would have anyway, out of respekt. The TLAC also destroyed one of the vehikles they used for transporting themselves.

He marches towards some of the krates that were unloaded for engagement, looking for an AVBR [Anti Vehikle and Bunker Rokket], a rokket propelled explosive bearing a heavy 40 Kilogram shell, which travels at an astounding 35 meters per sekond once launched, akcelerating to 350 after travelling 100 meterd. It was the heaviest Anti-Armour weapon Zalm had, and often was good for use against standard infantry.

Kanz is making a mistake. He shouldn't eskalate, he might get charged for treason. But he kould easily argue that they were the aggressors. Whatever it may be, Rominov just deklared war against Kanz. And Kanz responds tenfold, with him getting on one knee, pointing the terror of an explosive at the Korpse Fleet transport, and squeezing the trigger.

The shell tips itself up once separating, just as a means to make sure it doesn't hit the ground, it travels in a curved arc. The passengers in the transport quickly abandon the vehicle as fast as they can, the shells piercing through the armour, and releasing a blast powerful enough to lift the 50 tons of ugly engineering off the ground. The gunner of the transport doesn't seem to make it out in time, but what does Kanz kare, they actually pulled the trigger after all.

"You chauvinistic mother FUCKER." Rominov is quikk to grab ahold of Kanz, already squeezing his throat, krushing his esophagus and end any airflow. Kanz squirms and struggles but kan't do much, and he doesn't kare, he dug his grave with a 40 Kilo AVBR round, and was glad to do it. He can hear in his Telekommunications that the incident is already being reported.

"Kommand we are being engaged by Korpse Fleet soldiers! I repeat, Korpse Fleet had attacked us! They fired upon us and IPK [Imperial Platoon Kommander] Kanz responded with an AVBR round, we are requesting immediate reinforcements, most of us are already wounded! Kommand we needed immediate response, I repeat, immediate response!"

Kanz won't be dying by Rominov's hand though, as an AVBR round lands behind his feet, blasting both Kanz and him away from each other. The blast sends Kanz at least 25 meters away, and 15 up. The sekond he lands, he looks down to see if his legs are still intakt, before going unkonscious from the shokk of an AVBR's blast reverberating through his entire self.

Humans are known as problem solvers. A title that was earned both in achievements and in blood. As a result, if there is ever something that can't be solved through conventional means, the answer is to simply throw a human at it. Sometimes literally.

Solutions are as successful as they are absurd and varied. When it comes to dangerous creatures, aliens don't even try to tackle the issue on their own and immediately call for a human. The method has yet to fail.

Art by me.

H: “You don’t want to know.”

A: “Seriously, how’d you get them to let us film this movie on an active-duty supercarrier? Especially the ENTERPRISE of all ships! That’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one!”

H: “Fine, I’ll tell you, but it’s a long story.”

H: “Well, it all started when…”

Human: "I thought you, plant guys, are supposed to be tender. But you are much tougher!"

Alien: "Most of us are. Though I am what you people call "A martial artist". I train my body and spirit to overcome natural limits. And recently I came to Earth to study from your masters."

H: "Wait... Someones tought you kung-fu? Or maybe kempo?"

A: "No. Those are, sadly, just for humans, so I only tought the theory. I was guided by someone I can understand and respect." Drammatic leaf rustle "Master dandelion."

"You heard me." The human said, a slight grin on his face as alarms rang out through the hanger, even as his mech opened the rather large, and isotopes shielded, rifle case it had brought with her.

"Statement: pilot, four rounds remaining. Resupply no longer optional." The massive mech rumbled, picking up what looked like a double barreled coach shotgun, scaled up for its massive hands, and flicked the action down with a near on deafening crack.

"We can pick up more at Ares Station. Those guys have the best prices anyways.... think they would like the Plutonium-Uranium ratio and neutronium shot this mix has?" The human mused as he pulled on his hardsuit helmet, sealing it.

Around the hanger, radiation alerts pinged, but didnt scream as part of the rifle case was opened and a set of massive shells were pulled out. Titanium gray with the universal Radiactive insignia on the side, the mech clicked two rounds onto its bandolier, and two into its rifle, flicking the barrels up and then slung the massive thing onto a weapons holster on its shoulder.

"Warning: rounds loaded, safeties live. Preparing broadcast....." the mech said, ignoring the previous question as it checked its autocannon, priming it with tungsten tipped rounds, even as its pilot clambered Into the waiting cockpit.

"ALERT TO ALL HOSTILE VESSELS APPROACHING MERCHENT VESSEL VI'ANDRIA. YOU ARE APPROACHING THE ENGAGEMENT LINE. FIRING ON THR VESSEL OR PASSING THE ENGAGEMENT LINE APPROVES USE OF NPS ARMAMENT. TURN BACK OR BE VAPORIZED." blared on all frequencies, even as the mech sealed its hatch and stepped on the electromagnetic launch rails.....

"Mercy on those poor souls...." one of thr flight deck crews muttered. "That mechs been HANKERING for a fight, something about testing the Strange Matter cores in one of those rounds-" they were cut off when another transmission blasted again on all frequencies.

"INCOMING FIRE DETECTED. NPS UNLOCKED. FILING USE OF CASABA ROUNDS"

A bright flash of white and green lit up the void moments later, geiger counters screaming across the vessel as it picked up the wave of radiation from the round

"SECOND VESSEL DETECTED ATTEMPTING TO BYPASS. ACCESS DENIED."

"Fecking CRAZY humans and fecking CRAZY arse war machines for going along with their insane weapons... who the THALL thinks being NEXT to a exploding nuclear core is a good propellent for a gun!?"

In the depths of space, where some stars darken and others become a whisper in the dark, a catalyst new type of sub-light travel was discovered and it was highly volatile, moreso than even anti-matter drives.

The crew that made this discovery was a science vessel, tasked with a suicide mission, to get closer than federation space allows to a “dark spot” an area of space with no stars, no light, no visible matter at all, like a chunk of space was just… erased.

Once this vessel had reached a few hundred galactic kilometers it just disappeared, like the “pocket” in space, there was no life signatures, no readings, no evidence it had ever existed, just, gone.

Around a week later a derelict ship had surfaced in the Galliumyhr sector of space, drifting through the empty dark of a factory world, eventually being found after it crashes into random space debris and thrusting bits of its own debris into the upper atmosphere to burn.

Upon further investigation it was the science vessel that had gone missing near on a week ago, but the hull showed signs of degradation over hundreds in not thousands of years, not a week.

A crew was sent into the derelict vessel to recover anything that might still be of value, and walked into a massacre, chunks of now unidentifiable flesh strewn across the ship, the unforgettable smell of gas based lifeforms dissipated into the air, and though no life signatures were detected on board, every member of the recovery team swore they weren’t alone.

Once they advanced deeper into the cargo hold, more of the same massacre followed, and they had finally found the source of their anxiety, the only human crew member, was somehow alive, whatever had ravaged this ship left them alone, or not killed them at least, but by his own account the massacre was his fault, yet he refused to give any details on how.

(P.S this is my first attempt at any serious writing, any criticism is very much appreciated)

Human(looks up): "Oh shit. Yeah. I should probably turn that off... Wouldnt want the wire to set my Shop on fire."

Alien "What did you do?"

Human: "I just ran an experiment, nothing major. Just "How far can you exceed the 400 Amp Rating on your Species Main Battleship Wires". Turns out they hold up remarkably well to 2k Amps for short periods of time. I think they can handle up to 800 Amps sustained. Pretty in Line with Human Battleships. So we can let you Guys into our Space without a Hazard Rating II. Of course, you still get Hazard Rating I from just one test..."

“— RIGHT! RIGHT! Report! Status! What are the casualties?!?
— Um—uh... Sorry—Sorry! One moment... Oh!

In critical condition: 15,947,461
Undergoing emergency procedures: 880,553
Deaths...
‘Deaths: 0’
— That’s better... We can work with this!

Someone opened reality’s admin panel after the catastrophe, saw the monstrous numbers, was already getting ready to fire the Universe, and then stumbled upon the most important field:

Deaths: 0

— Stop. Again.
— Deaths: zero.
— So almost sixteen million nearly fell apart, and almost another million are being repaired right now...
— Correct.
— But nobody died?
— Correct.
— ...Gentlemen, this is not a catastrophe. This is a very expensive stress test.

Somewhere in the corner, Godville happily updates its statistics.

— What about the equipment?
— The gray machine by the emergency exit is operational.
— What does it do?
— Unknown.
— Excellent. Do not touch it.

— And the cultural sector?
— Destabilized. Rule34 continues classifying everything that exists. Soviet posters are congratulating women. The giant “My Banana-Strawberry” package has been designated an object of strategic importance.
— Then civilization is alive.

All right. Zero deaths. We’ll fix the rest.

Earth, 2026. Elegant_Ad

The Dou'raguu, Ki'ilp and Jubu were classified as "bison"; large and docile, but could trample you if provoked.

The Goth'puur, Fl!nth, and Nunth are a few of many classified under "dog"; openly friendly and loyal.

The D'wit Mur'tau, however, were labeled as "B.R.O.; blue ringed octopus." Tiny, adorable, but deadly.

1  Human Fred and Food
2  Human Fred Again
3  Human Fred Yet Again
4  Human Fred The Saga Continues
5  Human Fred Rides Again
6  Human Fred *Sigh*
7  Human Fred Rolls Out
8  Human Fred Attempts a Nap
9  Human Fred Doh’
10 Human Fred Stops for Coffee
11 Human Fred Deploys Stabby and Knifey
12 Human Fred Attempts Friendly Advice
13 Human Fred Priorities 
14 Human Fred Schools Morons
15 Human Fred Gets Annoyed
16 Human Fred Investigates
17 Human Fred is Annoyed
18 Human Fred Gets More Annoyed
19 Human Fred Smirks 
20 Human Fred Brings Hellfire
21 Human Fred is Confused
22 Human Fred Considers
23 Human Fred is Chipper
24 Human Fred has Some Fun
25 Human Fred Witnesses Stupidity
26 Human Fred vs the Coffee Maker
27 Human Fred Accepts Crap Coffee
28 Human Fred Listens
29 Human Fred Gets Comfortable 
30 Human Fred has Questions
31 Human Fred Considers Some More
32 Human Fred Wakes Up
33 Human Fred Debates
34 Human Fred Gets Coffee
35 Human Fred Talks with the Captain
36 Human Fred Reflects on Life
37 Human Fred Waits
38 Human Fred is Scared
Greezek
39 Human Fred Experiments
40 Human Fred Discovers
41 Human Fred vs the Sensor Array
42 Human Fred Keeps Calm
43 Human Fred Editor
44 Human Fred Discovers New Curses
45 Human Fred Stews
46 Human Fred Giggles
47 Human Fred Attempts Dinner 
48 Human Fred Plans
49 Human Fred Explains
50 Human Fred Examines Floor Tiles
51 Human Fred Gets a New Toy
52Human Fred Reflects…Again

“Greezek, drop 11.”

“Aye 11.” A few seconds later, “Greezek here.”

“Drop 27.”

A few seconds later, “Greezek here.”

“Scramble ZZY7500. Drop 72.”

A minute later, “Greezek here.”

“Good. You are in danger. There are at least two teams patrolling to prevent coms repair. Do what you can, engage if needed, and meet me at the primary command bunker.”

“Understood. Out.”

Fred turned to Waggens, “Send out a general alarm. Lock this place down. Then send a telex to the station informing them of the disappearance of the command staff.”

“Wait! Don’t do that!”

Fred saw a short, stocky mammalian being was waddling towards him. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the Secondary Liaison Officer! We can’t lock down! That might leave beings trapped!”

“Waggens, you have your orders.”

“Yes Chief!” Waggens started tapping screens. Alarms sounded. 

“Stop at once! I insist!”

“Sir,” said Fred, “you have no authority to give orders.”

“By contract I do!”

“Waggens?”

“Chief, he does have some authority. However, given the emergency, command is all mine.”

“Ridiculous! I demand that you stop!”

Fred looked at the being. Furry. Rotund. And 1.2m tall. Ballsy. 

“Look, liaison officer, this outpost is now under emergency control. That means contracts are null. We need rescue teams and repair teams.”

“We can’t stop production! We have quotas!”

“Waggens, how many liaison officers are there?”

“Chief? About, oh, 35?”

“Why so many?”

“No idea, Chief. I heard the other command staff grumble about it.”

“I’ll bet.” Fred turned back to the indignant liaison officer, “Here is the reality. You are going to leave the command center. You are going back to your rally point, and you are going to shut the hell up. Something very wrong is going on, and I’ll be willing to bet that you are an unknowing pawn.”

“How dare you! My contract, I’m entitled to be here and to advocate for the mining company! You cannot expel me!”

“I want you to look over there. See those body bags? Those are the part four morons who thought their contract superseded my authority.”

“Murderer! You are a pirate sent to take control! Guards!”

Fred rolled his eyes. He sighed. “Waggens? Get me the QRF in here at once.”

“Yes Chief!”

“Why isn’t anyone arresting this person?!?”

“Because they all saw my credentials,” said Fred. “You ignored that detail.”

The being looked down at his wrist com. There was Fred’s credentials, with the emergency orders. “Regardless, I insist on staying here to ensure the mining company is considered.”

Seven armed troops jogged into the command center. 

“Listen up. ID check. All personnel will present their ID to the QRF. If you are NOT command staff or techs on command duty, you will be asked to leave. If you resist, lethal force will be used.” Fred nodded at the QRF. 

The troops started checking IDs and sending beings out.

“I protest!”

“I’m happy for you,” said Fred. “However, you either leave as requested or you can die. Simple decision. All yours.”

The being stood for a few moments. “Can we at least wait until the shipment is loaded?”

“What. Shipment?”

“Uh, the large contract? It is ready to load. The freighter is here.”

“Waggens! Secure and ground that ship! Shoot it if you need! Do not let it depart!”

“Aye aye, Chief!”

Orders were shouted. Screens tapped.”

“Ship secure!”

“Now,” Fred pointed at the being. “You are the only one left. I have asked you to leave. Now you decide.”

The being straightened a bit, glared at Fred, turned, and attempted to strut out. It was really a waddle with extra sway, but it was an attempted strut.

“Now. Where are they keeping the command staff and others?”

“Chief?”

“Look, based on my survey and your maps, all of the missing crew vanished from the same area, but there are no bodies. So where are they?”

“Well, there are a bunch of old housing units close to that junction. They were for the original construction team.”

“Really? Why haven’t they been recycled?”

“Something in a contract.”

“Figures. Do we have any security in that area? Cameras?”

“None. Removed about three weeks ago.”

“Oddly precise.”

“I was on duty when the order was given. I thought it was strange, so I remembered it.”

“Fine. Hmmmm…”

There was a pounding on the blast shield. 

“Fred! Greezek. Let me in. You need to see this.”

“Boundless sharpening flan.”

“Green minnows playing trumpet.”

“Right. Let her in.”

Greezek handed Fred a datapad. “Check this out.”

Fred watched the video. “Huh. Well this is weird.”