This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Shadeskira on 2025-01-17 13:42:57+00:00.

The Horizon, humanity’s most advanced exploration vessel, glided through the vast darkness of space, following the faint hum of an anomalous signal. It had been weeks since the crew first intercepted it—a desperate, rhythmic broadcast that seemed both mathematical and pleading. No known race in the galactic catalog matched its origin, and it led to a star system not yet charted by Terran explorers.

As the planet came into view, a verdant jewel encased in swirling clouds, the crew's excitement shifted into unease. From orbit, the world bore scars of suffering—sprawling industrial complexes surrounded by polluted skies, sprawling labor camps visible from space, and great pits carved deep into the crust. Despite the signs of advanced construction, the planet's surface seemed disjointed, its cities sitting atop areas that lacked infrastructure.

"Captain, two transmissions from the surface," reported Lieutenant Mina Arikawa from the comms station. "The first matches the signal we’ve been tracking. It’s coming from deep underground, likely from a civilian bunker. The second... it’s a challenge. Someone down there knows we’re here."

Captain Elias Voss, a seasoned officer with decades of exploration under his belt, furrowed his brow. "Let’s see it."

The viewscreen flickered to reveal an insectoid figure, tall and armored in sleek, organic plating that shimmered like liquid metal. Its multifaceted eyes reflected the cold gleam of its dominion as it spoke with guttural precision.

"You have entered the domain of the Shalik Sovereignty," it said in a synthesized tone. "State your purpose or depart. This world is under Shalik control, and we tolerate no interference."

Voss studied the creature for a moment. Its stance exuded arrogance, but its words revealed something deeper—a challenge meant to hide vulnerability. "We intercepted a distress signal originating from this planet," he replied coolly. "We’re here to investigate."

The Shalik’s mandibles twitched. "There is no distress signal. This is a secure operation under Shalik jurisdiction. Depart, or face the consequences."

Before Voss could respond, Arikawa’s console flared. "Captain, I’m intercepting chatter from Shalik command channels. They’re suppressing an uprising from a native species. The distress signal is from them. The Shalik... they’re enslaving the locals, forcing them into mass labor camps. Orbital bombardments are targeting cities resisting occupation."

The bridge crew fell silent, their expressions darkening. The United Terran Confederacy had a long-standing policy against exploitation. Once fractured and bloodied by their own history of colonialism and oppression, humanity had vowed never to repeat such sins. Over centuries, the Confederacy had honed its purpose: to explore, uplift, and protect the weak. It integrated those willing to join and sheltered those who could not defend themselves.

Captain Voss rose from his chair, his presence commanding the room. "Lieutenant, open every frequency. They need to know who we are."

Moments later, Voss’s voice carried across the stars:

"Attention, Shalik Sovereignty. This is Captain Elias Voss of the Terran Confederacy exploration vessel Horizon. Your occupation of this planet and enslavement of its inhabitants is a gross violation of sentient rights and interstellar law. You are ordered to cease hostilities, release your captives, and withdraw your forces immediately. Failure to comply will result in military intervention. You have one hour."

The Shalik emissary reappeared on the screen, mandibles clacking in fury. "You overreach, human. The Shalik Sovereignty does not answer to primitives. Leave now, or be destroyed."

A grim smile tugged at the corner of Voss’s mouth. "Lieutenant, summon the fleet."

Humanity's Answer

The Horizon’s distress beacon activated, a call that would echo across the Confederacy. The Ever-Ready Fleet, humanity’s hammer against tyranny, mobilized within minutes. Across the stars, warships jumped into hyperspace, converging on the uncharted system.

Within the hour, the Terran armada arrived. The flagship Eternal Vigilance, a massive dreadnought bristling with firepower, led the fleet. Rear Admiral Nadia Solano’s voice boomed across the comms:

"Shalik Sovereignty, this is Rear Admiral Solano of the Terran Confederacy. Your actions have been deemed unlawful and barbaric. You will surrender and withdraw immediately, or face total annihilation."

The Shalik fleet, though technologically advanced, was woefully outmatched. The Confederacy had built its navy to ensure swift, decisive responses to oppression anywhere in the galaxy. The Shalik hesitated, their ships holding position as they calculated their chances.

Voss seized the moment. "Focus on their command ships," he ordered. "We need their leadership to see the futility of resistance."

The Confederacy’s ships didn’t fire a single shot. Instead, they began a coordinated display of force—maneuvers so precise and overwhelming that the Shalik warships faltered. Knowing they were outclassed, the Shalik fleet disengaged, retreating into hyperspace and abandoning the planet.

A World Reborn

With the Shalik gone, the Horizon descended to the surface. The source of the distress signal—a network of underground bunkers—opened, and the native Ikarans emerged. They were a small, fragile species with luminous eyes and intricate patterns across their skin. Though barely into their industrial age, their intelligence was clear in the advanced mechanisms of their makeshift shelters and the precision of their tools.

An Ikaran leader stepped forward, trembling with awe. "We thought no one would come," they said, their voice quivering.

Voss knelt to meet their gaze. "You’re not alone anymore."

In the following weeks, the Confederacy deployed resources to the planet, dismantling the remnants of Shalik infrastructure and providing the Ikarans with food, medicine, and technology. The Ikarans were offered a choice: join the Confederacy as equals, or accept the Confederacy’s protection until they were ready to stand on their own.

Most chose to become a protectorate, their culture preserved and nurtured under Terran care. Confederacy educators, engineers, and diplomats worked alongside Ikaran leaders to rebuild their society, always respecting their autonomy.

For the Shalik, the message was clear: humanity would not tolerate tyranny, no matter how far from Earth. For the Ikarans, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one written not in fear but in hope.

And for the galaxy, it was a reminder: wherever oppression reigned, the Terran Confederacy would answer the call.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/duddlered on 2025-01-17 13:27:32+00:00.

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Captain Kai "Skunk" Wu sat in the cockpit of his F-16 as his gloved fingers tapped restlessly against the outside of his open canopy. The cool air in the early morning darkness did little to ease his frayed nerves as he beat a smooth rhythmic pattern that betrayed his impatience. Low hums of idling jet engines and the familiar scent of jet fuel filled the air, but tonight, everything felt different.

As he gazed out over the tarmac, Wu’s eyes were greeted by ground crews hustling between aircraft, shouting orders and signals that were lost to him over the whines of turbines. Not only were there F-16s like his lined up, but he saw F-15cs and even F-35s, all of which were bristling with the new Raytheon Peregrine missiles. The Sleek and deadly hit-to-kill weapons were fresh out of research and development and put into the perfect position to be adopted by the standardized ‘dragon killers.’

Measured at approximately 6 feet long, these missiles had the equivalent range of an AIM-120 Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missile (AMRAAM) that the US Air Force typically fielded and had little effect on their draconic foe. The Peregrine, on the other hand, looked very promising and needed very little modification to house Depleted Uranium penetrators to make them even more lethal against armored targets.

Wu watched as more conventional fighters idled off to the side, with the machines' pilots lounging or performing routine checks. Meanwhile, logistics aircraft and the F-35s taxi for their runs to takeoff. It wasn't the nail in the coffin that Wu would assume was the kick-off to something larger, but it was another point on the graph that made the line longer. Why else would anything and everything with powerful radars take to the skies before all the other, more heavily armed, aircraft?

He licked his lips and sat back before gazing at the air-control tower. If Wu was honest with himself and didn't indulge in this schizo behavior, then odds had it that this was another exercise or readiness maneuver. It would have been the fifteenth time they'd been told to scramble, only to idle on the tarmac and be told to spool down and go back to the briefing room. The few times they’d manage to take off and get into formation, their command would always call it off at the last minute and have them turn back.

It was like a bit of dance they’d perform over and over again. Wu knew why; discerning eyes were waiting and watching what they’d be doing. To what end, however? Well, that was way beyond Wu’s pay grade.

But something was nagging at him. There was this gnawing sensation in his gut that they were in the precipice, and he simply couldn't shake it. Sure, he could also say they’d been on the precipice this entire time, but today felt more… real.

It all started with the briefing room. Their roles were explained in greater detail, with more objectives and specific targets. In comparison, they'd been training for these scenarios in more broad strokes for months, but this night, Wu was given proper areas of responsibility and taskings.

During the briefing, their objectives were laid out with uncharacteristic specificity. The entire squadron was to perform probing operations and support Wild Weasels in drawing out enemy air assets and getting a good idea of their defense network. It was apparent to Wu that what the briefing outlined wasn’t a full-on air campaign, but it was a step in the direction of one—a calculated move to test the waters and map out unknown threats.

Wu Adjusted himself in his seat as a wave of jitters flowed through him. They were testing the waters here, and the rough map of their area of responsibility further justified his suspicions. While the heavier hitters would secure a buffer zone around the rift, Wu and the rest of the squadron were pressed further to see how the enemy would react.

Basically, his job was to kick the hornet's nest and see what would happen.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the distinctive buzzing of propeller blades cutting through the din of jet engines. Snapping his head to the side, Wu's eyes widened when he saw the hulking figures of C-130 Hercules cargo planes lining up on an adjacent runway, their engines roaring as they prepared for takeoff. Even more shocking were the AC-130 Ghostriders gunships, bristling with weaponry, taxiing up behind their cargo sister planes and preparing for their own sorties.

Wu watched silently as the hulking AC-130 Ghostriders lumbered down the runway, their propellers chopping through the air with a throaty roar. The gunships seemed almost out of place among the sleek jets, but their presence spoke volumes. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the sounds of their propellers turned violent, lurching them forward as the behemoths took off.

Gripping the edge of his canopy, Wu continued to stare as each of the incarnations of death took to the skies. "Pampers, you seeing this?" He keyed his mic over the squadron frequency.

There was a moment of static-laden silence before Lieutenant Kara ‘Pampers’ Bell responded. "Yeah… Yeah, I'm seeing it." She responded in an uncharacteristically subdued tone that carried a hint of unease.

The flight leader glanced over to where her F-16 was parked a few jets down the line. He could imagine her expression mirroring his own—a mix of apprehensive anticipation. "They don’t roll those things out unless something was going down," Wu said as his fingers drummed against the side of his cockpit more intensely.

"Guess this means we're really doing it," Pampers replied. There was a slight quiver in her voice that she quickly tried to suppress. "I don’t think this another drill."

"Yeah," Wu agreed. "I think this is it."

The other two in Wu’s flight remained uncharacteristically silent as the weight of that conversation seemed to settle. After months of prep and tion and countless briefings, the movement had finally arrived. Even though they wanted nothing more than to deliver sweet and swift vengeance against those who had the gall to invade them, the men of Skunk’s flight were still nervous.

Silence reigned over the comms as the last of the lumbering cargo planes, and gunships lifted into the sky, their silhouettes shrinking against the horizon. The usual banter and chatter among pilots had faded. They were replaced by collective anticipation. Crossing into an alien world was no longer an absurd abstract concept whispered about in briefing rooms—it was now imminent. They were about to project America's might through the rift, and every pilot here would be the instrument of their country’s justice.

But the contemplative quiet was all interrupted by the crackle of the control tower's frequency coming to life. "Attention all aircraft. Execute, execute, execute. Time now 1630 hours." An authoritative voice echoed in their helmets. “I repeat, All aircraft. Execute, execute, execute.”

Immediately after, the familiar voice of their squadron commander, Colonel William "Roadkill" Reeves, resonated over the squadron channel. "All flights, this is Roadkill. Mission is a go. Commence takeoff sequence per briefed plan."

Almost in a snap of the fingers, the doubts, anxieties, and unease that had been tingling at the edges of every pilot’s consciousness were washed away and replaced by cool professionalism. Wu himself felt as if he suddenly switched gears. His fingers flew back inside the cockpit, and he deftly moved over switches and controls as he double-checked all his systems.

The tower's voice came through again, this time directed towards Wu’s flight. "Skunk 1, Tower. Clear to taxi, runway four."

Satisfied with his checks, Wu took a deep breath and hit his transmit button. "Tower, Skunk 1. Rolling with two, proceeding to runway four." He replied before signaling to the ground crew to double time.

The ground hustled around the aircraft to double-check that nothing was out of order while the crew chief rushed to the edge of the taxiway. Once there, he lifted two bright orange wands, and with crisp movements, he guided Wu forward, ensuring clearance from nearby aircraft and equipment. The marshaller's gestures were sharp and unmistakable—even in the early 0300 darkness.

Wu's marshaller stood in front of his jet with two orange wands, guiding his pilot as they began to Taxi. Wu followed the marshaller around other aircraft and obstructions as he eased the throttle forward. But eventually, the marshaller came to a halt, snapped his heels together, and offered a crisp, sharp salute the moment the aircraft hit the taxiway.

The Captain returned the gesture and continued toward the hold short line as the canopy lowered over him. A hydraulic hiss resounded, sealing him inside the cockpit, muffling the external noises, and cocooning him as Wu worked his instruments and displays.

As he approached the hold short line, Wu noticed that a pair of F-15EXs on full burner on Runway 4 and gently lifted into the air as Wu brought his F-16 to a stop. Glancing over to his right, Wu watched as Bell pulled up alongside him, giving him a thumbs-up as her own canopy was sealed shut.

“You ready to hurry up and wait?” Wu’s headset echoed with a bell voice, causing him to chuckle and place a hand over his lowered visor.

Nothing in the world could describe the military as a whole more t...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/IvankoKostiuk on 2025-01-17 13:12:00+00:00.

In caution is wisdom, so even if this was a favos station and deep in their space, I slipped into the bar while someone else opened the door.

I scanned the room before entering further. A number of favos (neutral to hostile) by themselves or in groups, a few groups of humans (unpredictable), and a nanden (hostile, avoid if possible) drinking by himself. The nanden, great big things with curved horns and fangs that hang from their mouths, seemed to have a particular distrust of gennels. Beyond what could be justified by our strange reputation as carrion eaters and scavengers, the nanden had a habit of outright hatred for gennels.

The barman was a favos though, so I decided to just get something to go while I waited for my ship to be refueled.

“Ale and sandwich please.” I ordered, but the barman just stared me down.

I dropped the creds on the bar top in disgust at this again.

The barman took my money and started to ring up my order.

I took a seat and scanned the bar. A comfortable size for the ‘medium sized’ species like the favos and humans, but it felt claustrophobicly large to me. The humans in the bar took no note of me, some of the favos kept stealing glances at me, and the nanden was staring at me. Excellent.

“You should make sure those aren’t forgeries.” The nanden boomed “If half of what I’ve heard about them are true, it would be prudent.”

This drew the attention of the bar to himself, and then to me. Excellent.

But I noticed the wording he used. Had he ever met a gennel before? It seemed unlikely. By the stars, I thought to myself, he is going to get me kicked out of another bar over things he has heard only as rumor.

“Be nice.” A human instructed.

“To that?” The nanden responded.

The human who spoke turned and faced the nanden.

“Yes. To,” The human paused and addressed me “him? Is that right?”

“Yes sir.” I agreed and in the quiet I noticed the murmuring of the favos in the bar.

“Thank you.” The human turned back to the nanden “Be nice to him. He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“Or what?” The nanden stood up.

The humans, even the ones in a different group, shifted to attention but stayed sitting.

“We don’t need to get all caddywhompus over this,” The human said “The guy just wants something to eat. Just leave him be and mind your own.”

“And who is going to make me?” The nanden took a step forward and made subtle shifts in his jaw and shoulders from him preparing for violence.

“Maybe you should just leave.” The barman told me.

I slipped off the barstool and took a step to the door.

“He already paid.” Another human said to the barman “I saw it. Are you going to just take his money and kick him out?”

“Why not?” The nanden demanded “He probably stole that money anyways.”

“I did not!” I shouted back, but I was taking a step to the door all the same.

“Sir,” the first human said to me “would you like to eat with me and mine?”

“Of course the humans would eat with such a thing.”

That got more murmurs from the favos.

“Boy, you really don’t have any home training, do you?” the human stood up but gestured to his fellows that they should stay seating.

The murmurs stopped and the bar was consumed with quiet. I took another step to the door in an irrational hope that if I left the situation would diffuse.

“What does that mean?” The nanden demanded while he stepped up to the human, making the disparities in their heights and weights apparent.

“I’m saying you’re being very rude to my new friend, and I want you to knock it off.”

“Or what? Would you start a fight over such a thing?”

“You don’t know much about humans, do you?”

The other humans, even the ones who did not appear to be part of the same group, kept their eyes locked on the situation. Some of them shifted in their seats as if planning to get up. A few gripped their dinner knives.

As I looked at the human faces I noticed they were not looking at each other. There was no coordination happening. And they could not have known this was going to happen. The humans were not, to my knowledge, a hive mind. It was still as if a wave of agreement washed over them. A mutual understanding of what to do.

“I know your homeworld refuses to fight because you’re all cowards.”

I thought this was interesting. While everyone knew the human central government refused to fight, their colonies also had a reputation for getting involved in wars that were none of their business and, more strange, refusing any sort of compensation for doing so.

“Captain,” the first human called without looking away from the nanden “Do you have any extra orientation material?”

“Yes general,” Another human answered.

The nanden watched the captain walk to the general and pass a data stick to him, which was then offered him. The captain took an odd path. He had been sitting close to the general, but he walked behind and around the table, which brought him next to another table of humans. And a third table. With the nanden keeping his eyes on the captain, he saw all of the humans and the looks they had.

“You may wish to familiarize yourself with us.” the general informed the nanden “We all need to learn to mind our Uncle Kenny. Especially Coward of the County.”

The nanden hesitated. He considered his situation. The general made a small movement of the data stick.

“One thing you may learn,” The general told the nanden “is that we do not have many good experiences that start from a big fella like yourself picking on a little fella like him. And hey, maybe we can all come to an understanding. Maybe we won’t have to do things like this anymore. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

The nanden must have understood that if he pressed the issue, all of the humans in the bar would turn on him. He took the data stick and walked away.

It was only much later (after the humans fed me and got me very drunk) when I was able to find the song and understand the threat.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/jpitha on 2025-01-17 12:17:50+00:00.

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The three of them stood in a makeshift hangar, gazing up at the towering gunship. Greylock’s thrust caused the hangar’s wall to serve as the floor, making the gunship point upward with its engines first. It was an enormous structure, easily reaching a height of five hundred meters.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” Alia commented, unable to take her eyes off it.

“Hell yeah, it is!” Fifty-Five grinned. “With that thing, you’ll be able to take down anyone who comes near us within an AU.“

“Why me, though?“ Alia asked, turning her attention to Fifty-Five, who seemed somewhat jealous.

“You’re the one who has Tartarus,“ One-oh-Four explained with a shrug. “We can’t pilot it.“

“Yeah, we’ll stay back here and make sure G behaves, preventing her from doing anything she shouldn’t,” Fifty-Five added.

“I can hear you three,” Greylock said. As she did, Fifty-Five silently rolled her eyes, and One-oh-Four suppressed a giggle.

“Good, then you’ll listen when we give you instructions,” Fifty-Five nodded. “So, G, is it ready?”

“The gunship is almost complete, Fifty-Five,” Greylock answered, using their numbers as well. “We just need to arm it and load the slug throwers and missiles with printable matter.”

“What about the energy weapons?” One-oh-Four asked, inspecting the gunship from different angles.

“I’ve built a reactor that’s nearly identical to mine, so power won’t be an issue,” Greylock replied. “The chief concern is heat. I filled the water tanks, but you’ll only get a few shots before overheating.”

 Despite popular belief, space isn’t freezing. It’s empty, lacking anything to transfer heat energy to, making heat dissipation challenging. The water tanks absorb the heat from the energy weapons, but eventually, they’ll reach their limit. Alia could vent the tanks and cool the weapons to fire a couple more times, but that’s it. The energy weapons are primarily for point defense and desperate close-quarters combat.

Fifty-Five smacked the gunship’s rear, producing a solid metallic sound. “It’ll be fine. You’ll go in, take down the Jimbos—whoever they are—and then we’ll rendezvous with the colony. She smiled. “I just hope this Null drive FTL thing includes a better heat dissipation method. I hate wasting water to squeeze out a few extra shots.”

“Fifty-Five, if they have a better way to dissipate heat then they will have a greater rate of fire than Twenty-Seven will. For our sake, we should hope they don’t.” Greylock said.

“Hm. That’s a good point G. See? You’re not completely useless.” Fifty-Five said, grinning.

“Fuck off, Fifty-Five.” Greylock said to Fifty-Five’s barking laughter. “Alia - er, Twenty-Seven? Will you go aboard the gunship? I want to run some connectivity tests with you integrated.” As Greylock was speaking, a door near the rear opened, and a spindly ladder extended down towards the floor. “Don’t worry about maneuvering around inside; there is an elevator. Well, actually it’s an ammunition shuttle, but it was designed to also be an elevator when in this orientation.”

“That’s fine. Fifty-Five and I will go work with G to see if we can find anything out about the system we’re coming into. We’re close enough now that we should be able to get the basics even with the drive thrusting.” One-oh-Four said as she turned towards the exit.

“Don’t let her give you any shit, Twenty-Seven,” Fifty-Five said, and slapped her on her back. “G is growing on me, but she’s gotta remember who are the humans here.” She followed after One-oh-Four. 

Alia watched them leave for a moment, and then shaking her head once, climbed the ladder.

The interior of the gunship was cramped, but not as confusing as she initially thought it would be. It was designed such that down was along the axis of thrust, so it was just like going up inside a gunship shaped building. There were no windows in the elevator, so she really didn’t get an idea of what the interior looked like, but once we reached the front/top she got out and found basically a closet, and inside was a chair that looked like a… very cramped version of her sync chair. “Where is the rest of the cockpit, G? Still being built?”

“No, it’s complete, Alia.” Greylock said. “You’re meant to pilot the gunship completely from the sync chair. Get in, and I’ll show you.”

In the sync chair, Alia placed her palm on the reader, and with a sudden burst of energy, the device activated before her very eyes. The chair rose slightly, tilting forward and lowering one of the sides, and Alia slipped into it with a grace she didn’t know she possessed; it felt familiar. Alia realized with a start that she had spent many, many hours in a sync chair just like this. Whether it was training, or synchronizing with the other Alias, this was a comforting, cozy space. It didn’t feel claustrophobic at all. Leaning her head back, the back of her neck touched the pads on the chair and she felt a moment of disorientation, and…

She was the ship. She was five hundred meters tall, standing in the hangar. She could feel the engines, the maneuvering thrusters, the weapons, even the interior. “Greylock, this is wild. I’m the ship.”

Greylock chuckled. “Welcome Alia!”

“Is this how you feel all the time?”

“I can’t say for certain since our brains are different, but if I were to guess, I’d say yes, this is how I feel.”

“This is amazing!” Alia stretched, and she could see the maneuvering jets puff slightly and felt her thrusters gimbal. “So, what do we need to test?”

“Nothing.” Greylock said. “Your connection is rock solid, and you are in complete control. Once you’re released, you’ll be able to soar around and fight… anything you deem necessary to fight.”

“So why…”

“Because Fifty-Five and One-oh-Four can’t hear us here, Alia.” Greylock said. “You can see and hear them, same as I can. They’re trouble.”

“Trouble? How.” Alia continued to try out systems as they talked. She was curious about their use, but also wanted to be making noise in case one of the Alias checked on her.

“Well, for one, they are entirely too comfortable with the idea of being a weapon. They don’t seem to care at all who the target is. For another, you’ve heard them talk. They think I’m some kind of second-class citizen. The minute you leave, they’re going to shackle me, or wish they could. What do you think will happen if we arrive and the whole thing turns out to be some kind of terrible misunderstanding?”

“The Jimbos destroyed Halcyon, G”

“We only have Jame’s word on that. Remember, he was completely calm and fine on the first message. After he called back to the Terran Authority, then they were ‘under attack’ and had to retreat to some hollowed out asteroid. And while we’re on the subject,” Greylock continued. Alia felt like she was just along for the ride while G ranted. “Just how high tech are they if they can hollow out an asteroid enough to hide in just a few weeks? That takes months, if not years to do.”

“Well, maybe they just expanded a cave system and are living in their ships?”

“What ships, Alia? James said all the Nullships were destroyed, that’s why they couldn’t flee. Alia, we’re not being told the complete story, and we won’t learn it until we arrive, and we won’t learn anything if we go in and shoot everyone like Fifty-Five and One-oh-Four want. Our only saving grace is that they don’t have Tartarus, so you have to pilot the gunship, but you must be careful.”

“Careful of what, Greylock?” Alia felt her human body squirm in the sync chair. It felt like Greylock was asking her to plot against… her selves and that didn’t sit right with her. “Fifty-Five and One-oh-Four are… me, just different versions of me. They’re very easy to trust.” She added.

“That’s exactly my point, Alia. They’re you, so you automatically trust them. I wouldn’t.” Greylock paused. “Sorry, I’m talking with them at the same time. I can split my attention, but I have to concentrate when what I’m doing requires a lot of compute. Anyway, don’t trust them. They don’t have our best interests in mind. They still work for the Colonial Authority.”

“If you say so…” Alia trailed off. She wasn’t sure what else she could add. She was worried about Fifty-Five and One-oh-Four when they first showed up, but they were… nice to her. Helpful, even. Alia sighed internally. There was so much that was missing - so much that was a blank to her - it was comforting to have someone who knew what was going on, and knew what to do. “But, G, what if they’re right?”

“Right about what?”

Fifty-Five referred to us as the ‘spear of humanity.’ Seeing as that’s our role, shouldn’t we act accordingly?

“Alia, our circumstances are unusual. We’re a weapon with the ability to question our purpose. Unlike a spear or a missile, we can think. We’re not just tools of destruction; we have the power to choose not to be weapons.” 

“What if we need to be a weapon, G?”

“Then we’ll be the best damned weapon we can be. But we don’t know that yet, and it is… unwise to rush in, thinking we know what we don’t know. We should go in, assess the situation and only then decide whether we’re a weapon.”

Using the gunship’s sensors, Alia surveyed the hangar. With increased power, the wa...

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Chapter 23

Subject: AI Omega

Species: Human-Created Artificial Intelligence

Species Description: No physical description available.

Ship: N/A

Location: Multiple

I found the interaction between the two drones to be rather interesting. Naza's life story seemed to be unique only in that he survived to tell the tale. Similar situations were currently playing out across the Grand Vessel with no survivors. But I had other matters to attend to running concurrent to Naza's explanation of his history. Namely, Mind A59 had sent me some intriguing information.

One of the key issues with my presence aboard the Grand Vessel is staying undetected. There are several systems that I can access while removing my footprint, but there are many more things that I cannot gain access to without leaving a trail elsewhere. Primarily due to redundant logging protocols. Fucking bureaucrats, requiring everything in triplicate.

Normally, I would start at the beginning of the chain and work my way through it, temporarily disabling the logs and eliminating my presence as I went. However, finding out where the chain begins would result in logs being created. Logs which are monitored by Virtual Intelligences that would alert their organic masters to a discrepancy. I can't even guess at which system is the originator because the entire thing is pretty much fucking random, likely due to the programmers being absolute fuck-wits. Or geniuses, though I believe that's unlikely.

Mind A59, whom I had lied to about my access to the atmospherics system, pointed toward a solution to this metaphorical thorn in my side. Abduct a drone that has performed security maintenance recently, and get them to give me the schematics they should still have saved to their readouts. Along with these schematics should be access protocols which will allow me to determine the start of the aforementioned log-chain and slip into the more protected systems without alerting the VI.

Having the ability to shut down security networks in certain sectors has been quite the boon, but being able to take complete control of their eyes and ears will be a blessing. I'll also be able to access the secure bulkheads, funneling the enemy into carefully coordinated kill-zones. Actually, I should task the Marines with coming up with those. Not only are they specialists in such things, it will also help their morale to be a part of the planning process.

As part of the intelligence he sent, Mind A59 also sent me a list of drones that had performed the necessary maintenance recently enough to still have access. A quick scan of the list revealed a remarkable coincidence. Drone Z831H369X045 had been performing maintenance on secure servers before being tasked with repairing a nearby antigravity generator. That saves us another abduction.

Examining Forty's features and body language after her conversation with Naza also revealed that she may be coming around to our side of things. Though, my understanding of their body language is still somewhat lacking. Deciding to take a risk, I tasked the guards who had interrupted their conversation to move Naza to a different cell-block so that Forty could have some time to think.

I sent a sync file to my instances in the Milky Way, then contacted Captain Reynolds.

"Yes, Omega? What is it?" he asked, taking a sip of the tea he had just made.

"Captain, Forty has information that we will need for our upcoming assault on the Grand Vessel," I explained, manifesting my avatar.

"What information?"

"Security schematics and access codes that I need to be able to secretly gain access to the Grand Vessel's more sensitive systems."

"What makes you thi-"

"I don't think, in this case. I know. Our contact aboard the Grand Vessel sent me a list of drones who would have the information I need. She's on it."

Reynolds set his cup down and stared at me for a moment.

"Forty has been... Less than cooperative thus far," he said with a guarded tone. "Are you suggesting advanced interrogation?"

"No, not yet," I replied with a malicious grin. "Certain developments have occurred that may make her more cooperative in her next interrogation, so long as things are handled with care. But if I am wrong and she continues to be uncooperative... It won't be a suggestion, Captain. Your hands will be clean."

"I see. Well, so long as my hands are clean," he said with sarcastic cheeriness.

"You'll soon receive a report on the incident from the guards in the brig. I'll be amending it with what I captured with our security system, as well as my notes on the matter. I know you are morally opposed to advanced interrogation, so I suggest you read it carefully. Because I'm not."

"Understood."

My avatar nodded and dissipated. Soon after, Captain Reynolds received the report from the guards and began reading it. I set an instance to monitor Forty's behavior and let Reynolds know when the optimal time to interrogate her will be. Then, I began attending to menial tasks until I received a sync file from the Milky Way. I applied changes and greedily relived the memories.

The sync file that came from my instance in enemy territory was very interesting. I immediately informed the relevant parties of everything that had been happening, and patiently waited for the directors to enter their chat room. Director 3 held things up a little bit because he was attending to biological needs in his bathroom, but soon enough the meeting began.

--

Director 3 has entered the chat

D8: We are all here. Let's begin.

D1: Omega, how much do you actually need this information from our prisoner.

O: I am not confident that our invasion attempt will be a success without it.

D2: Aren't you able to bypass their security systems even without this data?

O: Probably, I am not as familiar with their security systems as I am with ours, so I cannot give a definitive answer. There's a chance, however slim, that they have countermeasures that can halt my access if I were to brute force it. Even if my attempt were successful, their logging system would soon alert them to my access and we would lose the element of surprise.

D7: I think we'd be better off safe than sorry.

D1: Agreed. I'm of the opinion that advanced interrogation should be used if the prisoner remains uncooperative.

D13: It's already been authorized by the senate, and we've already given Omega discretionary clearance for its utilization. Let's move on.

D4: We've got five new fleets staffed and ready to go. The other ten are also at full readiness. Since we are still waiting on the other five fleets to be constructed, we can attach six dreadnoughts to each of the existing fleets.

D1: Fleets one and two should stay behind.

D4: Why?

D1: First Fleet needs to keep an eye on the Daluran, and we need a fleet to maintain security at home. Neither fleet will need dreadnoughts.

D2: That leaves us with twelve extra dreadnoughts for fifteen fleets.

D3: They can be a reserve, in case a dreadnought goes down.

D8: Omega, there isn't a sun in this system, right?

O: No. The area around the Grand Vessel can't really be defined as a system, either.

D8: Then the Nidhogg's sitting this one out.

D5: So we send thirteen fleets, with six dreadnoughts each and twelve in reserve. What are our allies sending?

D11: Nothing. They don't have the technology to make it that far. We would have to provide them our warp and reactor tech, and they would have to refit their entire force with it. We don't have time for that. The only way they can send anyone is if we use our carriers to carry some of their ships, but those ships will likely be next to useless against the numbers we face.

D12: I don't like that. Even this fight results in a Pyrrhic victory, we will leave ourselves vulnerable to invasion by the Republic.

D2: I agree.

D6: I've been working with civilian interests and the senate in that regard. Even if we lose all thirteen, we're prepared for a relatively fast replacement process. And, if we leave Daluran with a minimal guard, we'll be able to use most of first fleet and all of second fleet to defend our interests against any Republic attacks until the fleets are replaced.

D1: That's assuming the Republic attacks at all, which I believe to be unlikely. Our biggest threats come from within, but the Bureau of United Systems Intelligence is staying on top of things.

D9: Omega, what is the current plan for the invasion of the Grand Vessel?

O: If I am able to secure the intel I need, I can limit the movements of the Grand Vessel's security forces. We can then safely land our Marines and arm the rebels. Our ships will keep the Omni-Union from landing VI platforms and/or mechs in inconvenient areas while the infantry forces push into the central areas of the Grand Vessel to capture or eliminate their leadership, forcing a surrender.

D8: All in favor?

--

The vote passed unanimously, as I suspected it would. I developed this plan with the help of generals and admirals, who were all confident that it was as sound as it could get. The only real issue with the plan is how much force the Omni-Union will be able to throw at us simultaneously.

But, as General Muhiti of the Marine Corps said while planning this invasion, "We'll kill those enemies when w...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/MightyMaus1944 on 2025-01-17 09:18:08+00:00.

Pt III

We moved quickly through the palace, ending in Jack’s guest room. He immediately began donning his battle gear.

“Do you have access to armor?” Jack asked over his shoulder as he pulled his vest over his head.

“Yea, there’s some spare suits in the armory.”

“Good, go get one and put it on. Grab whatever you need from the palace that you can carry and meet me at the entrance in ten.”

“Will do.”

I quickly ran to the armory, slipping into one of the waiting armor suits. Grabbing a plasma long-blaster and some spare power batteries, I exited. After retrieving my plasma side-arm and some personal items from my room, I met Jack at the palace gates.

“What’s your plan?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, the planet is doomed. However, if we can evacuate the city, we might be able to escape to fight another day. Do your people have allies?”

“We did, but the Sirukians conquered them all. We’re the last free sapients in Andromeda. Would Earth help us?”

“Doubtful, but it’s our best shot.”

“I’ll head to the space port. You go to the police station; it’s at the end of that tunnel. Tell them to start gathering the people and bring them to the port.” I removed my gauntlet a pulled a signet ring off my lower right hand. “Here, show the police this, they’ll cooperate with you.”

“As you command your majesty.” Jack said with a touch of sarcasm as he bowed low.

“Just go.” I said, rolling my lower eyes.

Jack hurried off in the direction I had pointed, and I went to the space port. Approaching the control tower, I nodded at the guards at the entrance. They made no movement to stop me. Heading up the stairs, I entered the central control room and approached the flight commander.

“Commander!” He turned, surprised at my presence. “What ships are still in the port?”

The commander saluted me and answered, “We have three heavy cargo ships, one passenger line and the Endeavor, although she’s still under repair.”

“Is she flight worthy?”

 “I’m unsure milady, you would have to ask the repair crew.”

“Very well. Call back the crews of the ships, including the Endeavor. Tell them to prepare their ships for launch, we’re evacuating the city.”

“As you command.”

The command room flew into action as I left and made my way to the Endeavor. As I got closer, I could see the extent of the damage; laser heat scars pocketed her hull. She was missing one of her six quintuple plasma railgun turrets and several of her laser secondary turrets. The engines seemed untouched; most of the damage was towards her bow. The repair foreman was barking orders to a small army of workers. He turned at the sound of my combat boots approaching.

“Commander, repairs are progressing, but- I’m sorry your majesty, I was not informed of your inspection.” He bowed low.

“I’m not inspecting, I need a question answered. I know she’s in no shape for battle, but will she fly? Will she jump?”

“Yes milady, she will, her engines and warp drive were not damaged.”

“Excellent.” I turned at the sound of more combat boots behind me. Rear Admiral Yullfen, the captain of the Endeavor stood before me.

“Milady, what is the meaning of this? My ship is not ready to fight, and your father gave me specific orders to stay planet-side until repairs are completed.”

“Are you able to contact my father at the moment?” I was hoping he couldn’t.

“No, your majesty, your father’s barge took a hit to it’s primary communication antenna early in the battle, it has short-range comms only.”

“And what happens when the king is unable to command?”

“Command falls to the next highest qualified individual, which is you.” He paused for a moment, realizing the implications of his statement.  “I will make my men and ship ready.”

The admiral turned and began ordering the Endeavor’s crew. Meanwhile I saw the first of what I hoped was many Police hover-flyers landing at the Port’s entrance. As I jogged towards it, I saw Jack and the Chief of Police exit. More hover-flyers deposited officers before flying off into the city.

“We have three cargo ships, one liner and the battleship. Chief, you and your officers direct people to the ships as they arrive. Prioritize VIPS in the Endeavor; doctors, engineers, scientists, ship-builders, etc. Families with children to the passenger liner, everyone else to the cargo ships. Make sure there are enough officers on each ship to keep people settled. Jack, come with me, there’s one more place we need to stop.”

“Yes milady!” The police chief saluted me and went to carry out my orders. Jack and I hopped in the landed police hover-flyer and sped off towards an unassuming warehouse on the edge of the city.

“Yikes!” Jack yelped grabbing his seat as I power-drifted around one of the taller buildings in the city “Remind me to never let you drive the ambulance.”

“Oh, shut it. I drive fine.”

“Where are we going?’

“The Royal R&D labs. There are several things in there that we can’t let fall into Sirukian hands.”

“Ah. What did you need me for?”

“You have experience operating heavy vehicles, no?”

“Kinda, I guess. I drive ambulance, and I drove a HEMTT a few times when I was in the Air Force.”

“Perfect. You’ll be driving the heavy transport with the projects loaded on it.”

“Alright, I’ll need a navigator.”

“Just follow my hover-flyer.”

We landed outside the warehouse. Approaching the main entrance, I scanned my lower two palms, and the door slid open. Inside, one of the interns looked up from her computer in shock.

“W-what can I do for you my princess?” She stammered, eyeing Jack and my armor and the weapons we had slung over our shoulders nervously.

“We need access to the project floor Anyana. Oh, and call everyone to the floor. We need to make a announcement.”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

Five minutes later I stood on a table addressing a group of three dozen scientists, engineers, and interns.

“Royal Researchers. We are evacuating the city. The Sirukians have overwhelming numbers, and we cannot win. However, we cannot allow our research to fall into enemy hands. Load as much as you can on the heavy transport crawler, and destroy what we cannot take with us. You have fifteen minutes. Go!”

The researchers scurried about loading computers and projects on the transporter, compiling documents, wiping servers, doing whatever they could to ensure that their work could not be replicated buy the Sirukians. Jack sat in the driver’s seat familiarizing himself with the controls.

“I think I got it.”

“Good.” I said, “Because we are out of time.”

The researchers loaded the last prototype in the transport and got in the back themselves. I lead the large vehicle through the now deserted streets of my home city and to the space port. I wonder If I’ll ever see my home again. What will happen to it? What will the Sirukians do to it? A twinge of sadness hit me as I realized I might be leaving my home for the last time. Flying slowly past familiar places, memories flooded my head. The treat shop grandpa used to take me on Saturdays, the library where I spent hours reading about other species, the home of my childhood best friend, a commoner. I wonder where she is now. Last I heard she got a job on the outer fringes of our territory studying unique plants. She always did enjoy botany. I snapped back to reality as the space port’s cargo entrance loomed before me. I set the flyer down as the gates opened. A dockhand directed Jack to park the transport in the cavernous cargo bay of one of the heavy cargo ships. I approached the Police Chief.

“Status report.” I ordered him.

“City is 95% evacuated and loaded onto the ships milady.” He said snapping to attention. “We’re waiting for the last three fliers from the hospital, planning on putting the sickest in the med-bay of the Endeavor.”

“Good plan chief. Get those patients aboard the battleship, and then make sure you, your officers, and the dock workers get on board. I don’t want anyone to be left behind.”

“Yes ma’am! We were also able to find space for all of the local army garrison’s vehicles and heavy equipment aboard one of the cargo ships.”

“Excellent, see if you can take any or all of your fliers as well.”

“Will do, ma’am.”

I left to board the Endeavor as Jack approached, his parking job completed. I motioned with my left hands for him to follow me.

“Everyone on the ships?” He asked

“Almost, waiting on the last fliers, and there they are now.” Three police fliers landed outside the main entrance, and multiple patients on litters were unloaded and moved towards the Endeavor.

“Come on, let’s get aboard.”

Jack and I boarded the battleship and I headed to the command bridge. Jack headed to the sick bay.

“I’ve never commanded a warship, or any ship for that matter before. But I have cared for the sick before, so I’ll go make myself useful in the medbay. “He said.

As I enter the bridge, I found Admiral Yullfen stood supervising the bridge crew, who were making launching preparations.

“Admiral.” He turned and saluted. “I’m assuming command of this vessel.”

“Of course, your majesty. What are your orders?”

“Once the sick are on board and secured in the med-bay, we launch. We prov...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/W_Productions on 2025-01-17 08:35:49+00:00.

I am Captain Cyn of the SC(Star Cruiser) Yulia. We have all received the messages from Senator Teklia about the Earth Marines. However, the human Star Cruiser Fleets are just as terrifying. This story is about a run-in with the ESS( Earth Star Ship) Gabbard. To set the scene during the Universal War, I was a new captain however I was still a pretty young woman. In the Andromabel Sector, my crew and I were surveying multiple planets that may have been in danger of invasion. We had already gotten through 12 planets when we received an Incoming message from an Enemy Vessel. The Cantians, a race of blood-lusted aliens, were hiding out outside the system off our radar. They flew in our way and blocked us in with their entourage of smaller Destroyer-level ships. Even though I had a bad feeling about it I gave the Order and the Captain, Harkac the Red, appeared on the screen.

"This is Cap. Harkac. State your name and allegiance." the captain demanded, in a loud booming demonic voice.

"This is Cap. Cyn of the SC Yulia. Cap. Harkac, we are no threat to you or any of your entourage," I assured the captain.

"This is who the federation sent to deal with us?" he mocked.

"Captain I..." I tried to explain till he cut me off.

"You are a little girl, a mere worm compared to my men," he continued. I tried to contain myself even though I could feel myself tearing up.

"No matter we will crush you like we did your other ships," Harkac assured.

"We are a science vessel, and as stated in our treaty science and research vessels are off limits," I tried to plead. He only laughed an evil laugh.

"Well, Captain I hope you understand that we care very little about words on paper," He said, then signing off. The destroyers moved to attack positions and opened fire. Destroying our thrusters, we were unable to move and I had to give the orders to evacuate. The escape pods were primed and after I made sure everyone was off I got into mine and flew as fast as I could away before the ship blew its engines and crashed into the planet it was above. Many of the pods were blown up by the destroyers, but I managed to get out of the blockade. I leaped into Hyperspace and flew as far as I could into a more protected section.

I'm unsure how It happened but I accidentally dropped out over the planet Earth. It was a beautiful sight, I colorful land and the blue water covering the majority of the planet. I always thought Earth was an interesting world, I've only ever seen pictures, but I've always wanted to see it with my own eyes, especially after meeting Senator Michael. He talked about his hometown in Virginia, and I almost immediately put seeing earth on my bucket list. I was so infatuated that I didn't even realize I was caught in a tractor beam. A few minutes later I was on the deck of the ESS Gabbard. Then the Captain walked on board. He was a young-looking white-haired human male, about my age. He wore the captain's black uniform and he had stubble on his face and a scar over his left eye.

"Captain on deck!" a crew member shouted. I watched as everyone saluted the captain. He came over to me with a smile on his face.

"привет, I am Cap. Markov, of the ESS Gabbard," he said, in a strange accent.

"That's an interesting accent, Captain," I noticed.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I am Russian so I hope I'm not Intimidating," he apologized. I wasn't intimidated but I had a strange feeling I never felt before. I noticed my face once blue now purple from all my blushing, I kept twirling my short dark blue hair, and my body temperature began to rise fast. "Well, captain why did we find you so far from your planet?" Markov asked.

"Oh... I uh... I'm sorry," I stuttered.

"It's Okay, take a breath, take your time," he tried comforting me. I breathed in and out and I told him the story about what happened. From what I heard about the Earth Marines I was surprised when all he did was sit in his chair and give the orders to find Harkac to discuss the terms of engagement. As they were scanning different sectors Markov motioned for me to sit next to him. "So captain..." he began before I interrupted him.

"You can call me Viranda," I sheepishly said.

"Well, my name is Pierre," he introduced himself. "So Viranda, how are you doing after the attack, It must have been traumatizing?" Pierre asked.

"No, my species have very strong mental states, so we aren't traumatized easily," I explained.

"Ah, You are very lucky we humans have to train ourselves to achieve such a level of strength," he praised.

"Sir, there's an activity similar to the attack in the Estar system," the helmsmen said.

"Enter Hyperspace and drop out after entering the sector," Pierre ordered. As we entered Hyperspace I could feel my gut-wrenching as I thought about facing Harkac again. However, Pierre must have noticed because I felt him grab my hand and gently squeeze it. As we dropped out of Hyperspace the Cruiser I faced later that day was right in front of us with its entourage. They hailed us and Pierre waved his hand and the call was answered.

"Well well well, the little girl has returned with a little boy," Harkac snarled.

"Cap. Harkac, I am Cap. Markov of the ESS Gabbard. I am here to discuss the terms of engagement you have refused to follow," Pierre said in a friendly tone.

"Alls fair in war human," Harkac said.

"Sure all except war crimes," Pierre said in a disrespectful tone.

"I don't like your tone," Harkac growled.

"I don't like your face, or how you talked to my friend here," he said shifting over to me. "So here's what gonna happen you are going to apologize to my friend, then you are going to give up yourself to the federation or I will put a stop to your disgusting strategies," Pierre continued. Then I heard that laugh again.

"And what are you gonna do little man?" the captain asked, as his destroyers moved to circle us.

"Well I'm sure you guessed by my accent that I am Russian, however, I'm half Russian," Pierre revealed.

"Ok?" Harkac questioned.

"Do you want to know what my other half is?" he asked, a smile forming on his face. Harkac stared with a questioning look on his face. I could tell he was scared. "Well, I'm half Russian... and half Canadian," Pierre revealed. The feed was cut and he looked at his weapons table. "Fire the Tzar Mk 5," he ordered still smiling. I watched as a small missile flew from one of our cannons.

"What is that gonna do?" I questioned. Pierre didn't answer me, but he didn't have to. A few seconds later, a large white light flashed, and as it faded I saw the destruction of the giant ship and the smaller destroyers. I never saw anything like it, no one has the biggest weapon we've ever seen can barely even take out four destroyers. It takes a lot to traumatize me but this probably did it. Knowing these people we thought were so unevolved, and underdeveloped created the biggest weapon in the universe and were still trying to make it deadlier, it scared me. After the battle, I was granted to stay on the Gabbard while my new ship and crew were being built. Until then I'm to be Cap. Markov Co-Captain. However, as I lay in my quarters I thought to myself; how many other Earthships have these weapons? Why did they make them? All of this pales in comparison to the biggest question I have. Where did this species come from? I hope this gives you all another reason why you shouldn't mess with Humans.

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Obsequium_Minaris on 2025-01-17 04:55:33+00:00.

First / Previous / Royal Road

XXX

The rest of the week passed by slowly and uneventfully. For Pale, it was the same thing she'd come to grow accustomed to, save for the attack at the border – she spent the rest of her time away from class catching up on her assignments, spending time with Kayla and Valerie, and otherwise trying her best to understand her newfound magic. By this point, she'd come to accept that her mindset changing was what ultimately let her unlock her sjel. She didn't know if that was the reason for sure, but it was the only possible explanation she could think of that made sense.

And that opened up a whole new line of thinking for her, and not necessarily in a good way.

She was in class at the moment, listening to Professor Virux drone on about history. She was halfway paying attention, but mostly, she was stuck in her own head. Over the past few days, ever since the initial excitement of unlocking her magic had worn off, she'd suddenly had to face a few uncomfortable realities.

Namely, the role her creators had planned for her.

Professor Tomas' statement continued to echo in her mind as she listened to Virux's lecture. He'd been right to say that if humanity had wanted an unthinking, unfeeling drone, then they never would have created someone like her in the first place. But at the same time, they'd been so insistent that she stick to her initial orders and serve as a weapon that she couldn't help but feel conflicted.

And then there was the issue of returning home, which had also started to weigh on her greatly.

"Pale?"

Pale blinked as her thoughts were interrupted. Initially, she thought it was Kayla, only to recall that the two of them had opted to sit away from each other today. She turned and found Valerie sitting there next to her, a concerned look on her face.

"Is everything okay?" Valerie asked, her voice a whisper.

Slowly, Pale shook her head. "It's hard to explain," she offered.

"Try me."

Pale hesitated, then let out a sigh. "...Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you were torn between returning somewhere that needs you and staying with people you've come to care about?"

Valerie blinked, taken by surprise. "...I don't know," she answered. "Can you be more specific?"

"Let's just say that a lot of lives are dependent on me returning from whence I came. But, at the same time… if I left, I probably wouldn't be coming back, and… I don't want to leave you and Kayla behind forever like that."

Slowly, Valerie gave her a nod. "I see. Well, in that case, I hate to say it, but you need to do what's best for you, Pale."

"But all those people-"

"You can't be expected to shoulder that kind of burden, Pale. Whoever told you that was being unfair."

Pale couldn't help herself. She bit her lip. "...What if they weren't?" she asked. "What if there truly was a way for me to save all those people? In that case, staying behind… that'd be selfish of me, wouldn't it?"

Valerie stared at her for a moment before speaking again. "This seems like a pretty heavy conversation to have in hushed tones in the middle of class. We'll talk about this more in the hall afterwards. Okay?"

Pale gave her a nod, and both girls went back to focusing on Virux's lecture.

The entire time, Pale continued to wrestle with herself, slowly counting down the minutes until she and Valerie could speak again."

XXX

The moment class let out, Pale took Valerie by the hand and raced out the classroom door. The two of them ducked into a nearby hallway, one that was only sparsely populated by students, and as they did so, Valerie gave her a concerned look.

"Talk to me," she said. "What's going on?"

Pale hesitated. "It's… hard to explain, Valerie. Let's just say… there are certain aspects of myself I don't like discussing with people. Part of that would be who I really am as a person." Pale paused, her eyes going wide. "And believe me, saying that last sentence was harder than you might think."

"Okay, hold on," Valerie said to her. "Just… how many lives are at stake, exactly?"

"A lot."

"How many?" Valerie insisted. "A hundred? A thousand?"

Pale bit her lip. "...You wouldn't believe me if I told you. But rest assured, it's a lot more than that."

To her credit, Valerie didn't even so much as blink or give her an incredulous look. Instead, she took Pale's statement in stride, slowly nodding her head.

"Okay," she said quietly. "So a lot of lives are at stake and it's dependent on you returning home to help defend them?"

"Yes."

"Does this have anything to do with those strange weapons you carry?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I'm sorry I can't explain more-"

"Don't be; I get it. But… tell me, at the very least, that Kayla knows the true nature of whatever you're talking about?"

"She does," Pale insisted. "It's a very short list of people I trust with that kind of truth, and one of them is sworn to a blood oath to keep it secret. One day, I'd like to include you in that list, but… I'm not ready. I mean, we were just trying to kill each other a few short weeks ago, and-"

"Pale," Valerie gently interrupted. "I get it, okay? And I don't mind at all. If you feel you still need to keep some secrets from me, that's okay. I don't expect you to tell me everything about yourself, not in the slightest."

Pale let out a small sigh of relief. "...Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Now, you said earlier that you're torn between staying here and leaving, and that a lot of lives are at stake if you choose to stay."

"Yes."

Valerie thought for a moment. "...It's not an easy decision, obviously," she offered. "And honestly, I don't think there really is a correct choice to make here, either."

"You don't?"

Valerie shook her head. "No. I mean, my gut says the right thing to do is to return home and save as many people as possible… but you need to take care of yourself, too. How many people back home do you have a close connection to?"

"Zero," Pale answered.

"And that's what complicates things."

Pale hesitated. "...If it helps, they don't know I'm here," she said. "I haven't been able to contact them for a long time, and vice versa. They almost certainly think I'm dead, and have been for a while. And… if I'm being honest, there's no telling that there'll even be anyone left to save by the time I make it back, since it's been so long."

Valerie was silent for a few seconds as she considered what to say next. "I can't tell you what to choose, Pale," she said. "But I can tell you what I would pick."

"And what would that be?"

"Personally? I would choose to stay. But it sounds to me like it's not that simple – you have some kind of duty or higher purpose tying you there. Am I correct?"

Slowly, Pale nodded. "You are."

"Then that might change things for you. But if it were me… I would stay here. I mean, if you decide to head back, it'll probably be permanent. It's likely there isn't anyone there to save. If there are, will they even need you to save them again?" Valerie shook her head. "Besides, assuming they're still around, they think you're dead already, anyway. The way I see it, there's no harm in letting them continue to think that. How much time do you have to make a decision?"

"A lot."

"Then what I would do is think on it between now and then. Maybe you'll come up with a different answer, I don't know. But what I do know is that, whatever you pick, you need to commit to it. Does that make sense?"

Pale gave her another slow nod. "It does."

"Good." Valerie flashed her a thin smile. "Then let's get going, class is about to start."

XXX

Classes soon ended for the day, and the first-year students found their way to the mess hall. Pale came filing in alongside Valerie, and the two of them sat down a table length away from Kayla, Cynthia, and Cal. Something about the arrangement made Pale uneasy; Kayla had already explained why her and Valerie were nothing more than acquaintances, but that wasn't enough to satisfy Pale. She didn't want to find herself torn between two friends, especially not after what her and Kayla had already been through together.

In any case, however, she and Valerie simply sat down and ate in near-complete silence, with only a slight bit of small talk between the two of them to pass the time between mouthfuls of food. It wasn't anything surprising to Pale; given the heavy conversation she'd had with Valerie earlier, as well as the fact that, at least on some level, she was keeping Valerie away from the more sensitive parts of her past, things were bound to be a little awkward between them for a day or two, she figured. But they'd get over that in due time.

After all, Valerie had gotten over Pale nearly blowing both her legs off at the knee. Compared to that, this was nothing.

They both finished their respective meals and were about to stand up and leave the room when, to Pale's surprise, Headmaster Albrecht stepped up on stage and clapped his hands together once, getting their attention. Immediately, the room went deathly silent, and all eyes were upon him as he cleared his throat and began to speak.

"As some of you may already be aware, your first big examinations will be occurring soon," h...

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The original was posted on /r/dataisbeautiful by /u/adamjonah on 2025-01-17 12:15:33+00:00.

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The original was posted on /r/dataisbeautiful by /u/Objective_Cookie_914 on 2025-01-17 13:07:39+00:00.

cross-posted from: https://beehaw.org/post/18054199

Considering the Switch 2 (with those pretty joystick well covers to protect from drift, omg) and the Ryzen Z2 Go announcements, the low cost and availability of Steam Deck & parity level APU machines for purchase now, and the giant 1080p gaming install base represented by current gen consoles, it sure seems like low spec & 1080p gaming is going to have a pretty sunny future. I am hoping this gives small and medium sized development teams a chance to show up what is left of AAA gaming.

What are your favorite low spec gaming setups right now? I'm enjoying a 5700g APU system the most these days. Mainstream wise, I've been playing Elden Ring and Injustice 2 and Vampire Survivors. The last Indie I played is this beat-em-up / horde survival game An American Werewolf in LA which was pretty cool.

Artist: Zhvo | pixiv | twitter | danbooru

Full quality: .png 15 MB (2200 × 3400)

Adam McKay says the Jennifer Lawrence and Leonardo DiCaprio-starring satire resonates with a widespread feeling of being deceived by government and media

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