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-Hokiyama, City of Scarlet Knives-

Patriarch Kanade Jung stepped into the comely interior of his pagoda’s top floor, dubbed the ‘Red Room’ for reasons that were immediately obvious to its inhabitants. More than its striking crimson décor, replete with the Blacksun sigil of the House of Blades, gave the room its name. The chamber was a den of war – a place of dim lights and dark thoughts, where the greatest strategic achievements of the Yokun Empire had been masterminded since before humans ever crawled out of the proverbial dirt of the Thean oceans.

The Patriarch first acknowledged his brethren, bidding his son to do the same. They bowed to those who were already seated and received far lower bows in return.

“It is an honor to be here again, Brother,” Patriarch Yomra of the House of Souls stated. “Though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

Jung saluted the old snake with rigor. Patriarch Hachijo Yomra was always known to be a patron of the Blades – their Houses, it was said, were intertwined in purpose. The Blades sent the spirits of the worthy to the House of Souls, and in turn, those of the latter House administered to the spirits of the Yokun’s finest warriors, distilling in them the sacred tenets of Lord Akira and offering the merciful embrace of Lady Ming'ra in equal measure.

The Patriarch wore his long, flowing ceremonial robes today – emblazoned with the snake-coiled heart sigil of his House and Clan. His eyes, like Jung’s, were narrowed to slits, his withered scales just beginning to cover his lids and summon the blindness that was common to Yokun of advanced age. Still, the harsh, brilliant red scales of the Patriarch and his wife still shone in the room, showing everyone that beauty had not yet vacated them.

“Three blessings for your hospitality, Patriarch Jung,” Matriarch Emi Song said. “And you, Lady Hakumi. My blood is made warmer by your presence.”

Jung’s Matriarch nodded gracefully at the compliment, then proceeded to take her seat before her husband did.

“Would that we could warm the blood of our lost Brother,” she said with a grim look at the third visitor. “This war has not been kind to the House of Whispers.”

The silent girl she was addressing was covered head to toe in an ashen veil, her head bowed as though in a grim prayer: Princess Ami. The new Matriarch-in-training.

“We mourn the loss of Patriarch Hiro,” she said slowly, in a voice that was barely more than the echo of a dying spirit. “But we are rebuilding day by day. And the Sisters of the House of Whispers still await your command. Vengeance fuels their knives. Righteous fury burns in their breasts.”

Jung nodded at this, while Hakumi merely gave a grunt of indignation. He was well aware of her particular disdain for her old Sister – the traitorous Jin’an. And the Pale Lady whom she had taken under her wing. Her bias clearly extended to this new Princess.

“We are forever grateful to your House for its continued efforts,” Jung said. “And we can be counted on to do our part. Let the hearts and spirits of your warriors be administered to by our priests. You will always be welcome within our walls.”

As the Princess bowed, all remaining members were seated. Prince Yamrah sat beside his father, a little sweaty and a little nervous, but still with the proud, straight-backed candor that characterized his father. Out of the corner of his mouth, Jung couldn’t help but smile. He’d need the strength of his son today.

“We are at a crossroads, it seems,” he said after a pause, looking at the map of Southern Thea spread out on the table before them.

“Indeed,” Yomra nodded. “Prince Yaresh must be congratulated for his exemplary victory against Marxon’s navy in the straits of Magridesh. The port is tactically crucial for our northern trade routes, and this success means we have firmly solidified our hold over the northern Arasaka.”

Jung nodded in satisfaction and breathed a small sigh of relief. Beside him, Yamrah’s chest puffed with pride. His oldest brother was his idol.

“My son has once again performed admirably,” Jung said. “Let a day of celebration be held in his name upon his return to the capital.”

“It is said that ten thousand human sailors now lie at the bottom of our ocean,” Emi added with pride. “At least two thousand have been taken in binds and will be used to rebuild our bases on Sathu and Jongbao. The islands will provide good staging grounds for our continued advance onto the mainland.”

“What of the Keth-Tari squadrons stationed there?” Hakumi asked.

Patriarch Yomra looked to Jung with surprise, unused to a female speaking before the Patriarch of a House. Jung, however, simply shrugged his shoulders. His Matriarch was very fond of those little beasts. Her enthusiasm was nothing to be concerned about.

“They already hunger for more Keji-Sai flesh, Sister,” Matriarch Emi replied. “Five thousand strong, and counting.”

“The beasts do so love to copulate in the aftermath of a massacre,” Hakumi grinned. “And we may just have a new target for them.”

The assembly suddenly turned morose, all of them avoiding Jung’s eyes as he glanced from one to the other.

“Yomra,” the Patriarch said, immediately bringing the gaze of his still-living Brother to his. “What news do you bring of my other son?”

Yomra looked at each assembled guest before continuing, making sure he held their strictest confidence.

“It is said that Prince Nagoya has fallen into enemy hands.”

Silence followed this report. It was only broken by the battering of Prince Yamrah’s fists against the round map table.

“Said by whom!?” the boy demanded.

“Peace, Prince Yamrah,” his father broke in. “You speak to the Patriarch and Matriarch of the Triumvirate.”

“Father, I – I won’t believe it! Yaresh’s skills in warfare are matched only by Nagoya’s ability to bring those filthy slaves in line! There is simply no possibility that he could be captured, no matter who tells me thi–”

“YAMRAH!”

The boy had risen from his chair in anger and only now seemed to realize the folly of his complaints. His father’s voice, it seemed, had brought him from the haze of his sudden rage back into the room proper. The assembly looked at the blustering boy with stern eyes. Slowly, he dropped back down to his seat.

“I… apologize, my Lords and Ladies.”

“No offense is taken, youngling,” Yomra said. “Your fury is shared by us all. We would not have believed such reports if we had not seen them with our own eyes.”

Yomra turned his attention back to Jung, whose eyes were fixed with pinpoint precision on his Brother’s every word.

“A…vision,” he said, “has passed into the mind of Yokra from the southern reaches of the jungle. A vision that shows your son at the mercy of the very Keji-Sai he hunted to the ends of the earth.”

“A vision?” Matriarch Hakumi chortled, leaning back as though this news was nothing but a triviality. “Forgive me, my Patriarch, but this little trick is known to us. The traitress of Whispers often employed her powers of telepathy against us in the first days of her little uprising – something her Keji-Sai confidant no doubt was given the power to exploit in the wake of her death.”

Both Matriarchs nodded and sat back with no small satisfaction. It was known to all that the Matriarchs of a Triumvirate held a special bond forged in the Waters of Mingra. Their souls were inexorably bound when they were sworn into their offices by the Water Trial, and thus, when Jin’an had finally passed on, they felt the death of their sister as a keen, psychic surge through their systems. Both women had woken in a state of ecstasy the morning after.

“That is what we believed to be the case,” Princess Ami answered, her dark tongue poking at the holes in her veil. “But factors outside our control have now emerged. Pawns that were once moved by others have now crept out from the corners of our realm to make war against us.”

The eyes of the two most powerful Yokun in the entire Empire fixed themselves on the inert form of the Princess.

“What factors?” Hakumi growled.

“A man,” the Princess of Whispers answered. “A man we know all too well: The Shai-Alud, Marcus Graham.”

***

Support the story on Patreon to read + 10 advanced chapters for $9.50. Patrons are charged when they join, never by the month, so it's as perfect a time as any to join up and get some sweet extra chaps.

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At Drop's go, Mor threw a bolt of lightning that made a whip crack of displaced air, but because he didn't have a clear target and only a general idea of where the monstrosity had hunkered down, it missed. It was a close one, but a miss nonetheless. Still, it was close enough. The surprise and the pain of the strafing heat made the monstrosity lose control over its chameleon ability for a second, which Mor used for a second lightning strike, making the first second of the fight a display of light and a double thundercrack.

Jorgen charged after Mor's opening, just as Elly loosened her first enhanced arrow, providing a hopefully permanent marker that would make the invisibility of the monstrosity less effective. The veteran hunter team reacted a bit differently. Drop followed Jorgen but kept an eye out for the assumed second target, while the other three in their temporary castle flinched when Mor's opening strike struck. Cutter and Silence were just about to nod off and go to sleep while Fortress listened for any sound the monstrosity might make.

The big guardian decided to take another look, and this impossible scene stunned him for a split second. Mor had used the surprise of the monstrosity to close up, noticing the natural weapons of it. With the human's support, the Soul-kin swung his metal rod, which quickly grew an ax-head made of ice, a part of the magic flowing into the formerly inert shaft, which was a pleasant surprise for the mage. Just as the ax collided with the side of the monstrosity and bit deep, Jorgen had finished enhancing his blade, following up with a vertical strike at the tail of the monstrosity. However, after the first shock, the raptor flinched back with a pained cry, and the boy missed.

Still, this loud shriek made two things happen. First, it made Gorn's training kick in and charge from his cover to support the two young hunters, and second, another similar cry was echoed from somewhere close. After this opening surprise attack, the monstrosity started to fight back. It simultaneously tried to bite down on Mor while its tail whipped out to Jorgen, who dodged with a faster-than-normally possible jump. Seeing the beast up close was scary. It was head to toe three meters tall, but if you would measure from front to tail, it would measure five meters. Its long maw had a triple row of saw teeth, perfect to rip and tear prey apart. The claws Drop had mentioned were more like bone daggers, 30 centimeters in length, and it had those on its arms and legs.

The strange part is that it didn't try to hide itself anymore, as if the shock and pain of the young hunter's opening attacks had removed this ability. However, it was not out of tricks, as Mor felt an entity worming itself into his mind, flooding his body with a calm and peaceful feeling and almost sapping his will to fight. Still, the culprit had made the calculation without the human, who forced a roar of anger out of Mor's throat and dispelled the illusory attack just in time for Mor to sidestep the bite attack and use the backside of his weapon to drive the blunt end into the lower jaw of the monstrosity with enhanced strength.

As a reaction, the raptor struck out with its claws, and the human dropped Mor's body to the ground in a desperate evasion. The monstrosity followed the strikes with a bladed stomp at the prone target. However, it was disrupted by Jorgens blade inflicting two quick slashes at the standing leg, giving Mor enough time to roll out of danger. 

Gorn was almost close enough to help when the second monstrosity joined the fight, and the veteran had to make his decision, which he did in a split second. Drop had already turned to engage the new threat, but he wavered because he wasn't used to engaging his targets directly. The scout looked into the red glowing eyes of the second monster and froze in fear, but just before the beast's claws skewered him, a hard impact to his side made him stumble to the ground. Fortress had tackled his friend and interposed himself in front of the danger, his shield already vibrating with power. The claw attack was deflected with a grunt of effort, but the guardian couldn't help but smile.

Seeing her father, Elly shot another arrow to give him some cover and Drop enough time to get back into the fight, which the scout did after shaking his head for a second. Finally, after the fight was heating up, Cutter and Silence came out of their hole, the former supporting the other striker. Silence nodded to his leader, handing over his ax to Cutter, drawing two daggers instead. He couldn't wield the heavy weapon with his hurt foot, and with Cutter's sword busted, this was the best solution for their predicament.

In silent agreement, the two men split up, Cutter going in to support the less experienced hunters, while Silence grimaced every step but still built up momentum, going for a quick strike against the fresh target. 

Mor steadily raised the power in his weapon, which grew in pitch and drew the monster's attention like a magnet. After that, only a row of desperate evasions and dodges kept Mor alive, as the now-cornered beast just went berserk on him. He hadn't even enough time between the bites, slashed, and tail swipes to drop his physical enhancement for an offensive spell, needing every ounce of power to keep ahead of the monstrosity's attacks. Jorgen also had no opening in the attacking frenzy and could only wait for an opportune moment, leaving Elly, but the girl hadn't shot an arrow in a hot second. Unbeknownst to the boys, the girl was under the influence of an illusory attack and fast asleep on the branches of her tree. 

The monstrosity lashed out against Mor and slashed up his upper arm, making the boy flinch back in pain. But, before it could capitalize on this opening, Jorgen threw in his attack. The boy cut deep into the already wounded leg and made the monstrosity hobble aside a step. However, the boy's unfamiliarity with actual combat struck now, as he had used too much power and strength, forcing his blade right down to the bone of the monstrosity and getting stuck. His sword was ripped out from his hands, leaving the boy weaponless, just in time for Cutter to hit the body like a battering ram, trying to destroy the beast's balance. The monstrosity stumbled and fell down, giving the veteran enough time to set up a decapitation strike. Still, the raptor wasn't, and it kicked out with its leg claws while scrambling to get back up. Mor, in turn, had used the chance to free Jorgens blade and scramble out of the danger zone, leaving the monstrosity between himself and the two other hunters.

The monstrosity fixated on the one who had hurt it last with its glare, and in Cutter's pants, a damp spot grew while his legs began to shake. However, this, in turn, was followed up by a yelp and a crash as Elly was freed from the influence and fell out of the tree when she jumped awake. The monstrosity loomed over the stunned Cutter, raising his arm for a deathly attack of its own, leaving Mor as the only armed combatant with no choice. He overcharged and hurled JorgeJorgen'sd in the same move, making the big blade tumble through the air. It was a desperate attack for a desperate moment, but it did save the veteran's life as the monstrosity dodged, overbalanced on its hurt leg, and stumbled, looking at the Soul-kin in pure hate. 

Jorgen, in turn, had dexterously caught his sword, using the momentum of the thrown weapon and adding his own in a horizontal slash, just as Elly's arrow pierced the eye of the monstrosity, stunting its reactions. The overcharged two-handed strike hit the monstrosity in the back of its spine, severing the nerves and making it crumble down to the ground in a pained cry. Its death spasms almost killed Jorgen, who had let his guard down at the surprise of this successful attack, if not for Cutter, who deflected the foot claw with his weapon.

The young hunters let out a collective sigh of relief before remembering the second monstrosity, which redoubled its efforts to maim the second hunter team twice over after having seen its pack mate die. Everyone quickly got their shit together, not noticing the multitude of little cuts and dried blood splatters. Only Mor took a second more to rudimentarily close the bleeding wound on his arm, knowing that this would leave a deep scar, before charging after everyone.

He and the human had been constantly communicating about the level of the magic reservoir and the fight overall. Because of that, both knew this fight took a lot more energy than they had expected, leaving them with about a quarter left. Still, knowing where their power level was right now was a good experience.

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The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Emma and Thacea’s Dorm. Local Time: 1920 Hours.

Thacea

When the Vunerian first revealed to me that Emma was in possession of platinum, a reflexive part of my psyche was put into shock.

However, it would only take a scant few moments before that shock quickly transitioned into tentative understanding, before evolving further into an outright realization of the truth.

The truth that there was without a shadow of a doubt, parity, as it pertained to the material abundance of both realms.

Memories from that first day of our private interactions were brought forth, and it was in those memories that I recalled my first glimpses into the earthrealmer’s manaless world.

I recalled the images of Earthrealm’s forges, advancing through the ages, developing without the aid of mana, yet increasing in size, scale, and intricacy with each passing era.

I recalled the images of iron seas and lakes of steel, flowing from crucibles spanning the height and width of entire smithies.

I recalled the scale of the foundries in which these crucibles were housed, buildings and structures of titanic proportions, of which only those like the crownlands could rival.

I recalled how scale and intricacy culminated in the armor that defied all reason, cladding a woman whose personality and spirit further defied that reason with each and every passing breath.

And it was with these recollections that I realized… that the forging and procurement of platinum wasn’t ever a question of possibility for earthrealm, nor was it indicative of their capabilities… but rather, the question was just how much they could procure.

So while Ilunor and Thalmin continued to be enraptured by the physical proof of earthrealm’s advanced metallurgical prowess, my suspicions continued to diverge into other aspects of Emma’s claims.

Ilunor was right in ascertaining that material abundance and the state of earthen post-shackling from the value of precious metals could only be derived by one of two means — pinnacle transmutation, and brute force procurement.

So given the self-admitted impossibility of the former by Emma, this left only the latter as the sole viable option.

This, however, was where my point of contention began.

As despite the physical proof of the wall of platinum clearly hinting at abundance, this form of abundance… was fleeting.

A realm was, after all, finite in nature. Which meant that after all the mines had been dug up, and after the world itself had become hollowed out, what remains is a barrier of scarcity which no civilization can ever truly cross.

There was only one exception to this functional limit on growth, and that was with the development of pinnacle transmutation, and the Nexus’ infinitely expanding farlands.

This meant that Emma’s claims of parity could be cast into doubt.

At least, it would have been for both Thalmin and Ilunor, if I were to have brought it up outright.

Because unlike the pair, I was privy to the sky-shattering realizations that had first been presented within the library, and a second time in Emma’s private sight-seer viewing.

These insights into what is for all intents and purposes, ostensibly a manaless Nexus.

My mind thus wandered towards the tail-end of Emma and Ilunor’s back and forths, as my imagination took a firm hold, and my thoughts were left to wander the ramifications of all of this information.

Perhaps the truth of abundance lies somewhere amidst the oceans of stars.

Perhaps the key to material abundance without the aid of pinnacle transmutation, was in breaching the skies to reach the void.

Perhaps our ancestors’ efforts should have been invested in that which was just in reach, and not in the path that led us towards the regrettable state of affairs we now found ourselves in.

Perhaps… a private conversation was needed, to put to rest this question of material parity once and for all.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Emma and Thacea’s Dorm. Local Time: 1920 Hours.

Emma

Ilunor’s passed-out body was quickly lifted into the arms of the princely wolf, whose reactions to the whole affair was self-explanatory.

“Huh.” The wolf prince emoted with a cock of his head. “For how much he eats, he weighs less than a heavy claymore.” Thalmin jabbed with a cackle of facetious intent. “In any case, Emma, I believe it would be prudent if you caught up on some rest. I’ll see to the Vunerian myself, you’ve been through enough today as is. A day of victory is to be enjoyed, not to be bothered by the burden of others, not especially a troublesome associate.”

“Thanks Thalmin.” I nodded gratefully.

“The pleasure is all mine, Emma.” He nodded back, as he effortlessly began walking towards the door with Ilunor in tow, leaving with a final few words. “See you tomorrow then. Hopefully the trip to Elaseer should prove to be uneventful.”

A swift wave marked the end of that little episode with the Vunerian, and following a light slam of the door, I allowed myself a loud, tired sigh.

I instinctively followed the commands of my exhausted body, moving over towards the reinforced couch like a zombie, before plopping down with the force of a train wreck. I promptly just laid there, sprawling out in the process.

Throughout all of this however, Thacea had remained… surprisingly silent.

Though that silence wouldn’t remain for long, as the princess approached the couch, and sat opposite of me with courtly tact.

“Emma.” She began, her tone of voice once more locking in to that ‘serious talk’ vibe. “I have some further questions I’d like to ask, if I may?”

“Is this about the resource parity situation?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Unless, of course, you wish to rest first and—”

“Nono! I’m fine. Please, fire away!” I quickly interjected, encouraging the avinor to continue.

“As you wish.” She dipped her head before continuing. “Whilst the other two are very much still in shock as a result of the reveal of your… treasury… a thought has occurred to me which I believe is best addressed in private.” The princess began, her vagueness piquing my interest.

“I can’t imagine anything about the whole situation that might require a private discussion.” I blurted out without much thought, eliciting a look that I could only describe as ‘are you serious?’ from the likes of Thacea.

“I had purposefully refrained from broaching this topic, out of respect for your narrative, as I assumed you had intentionally withheld addressing the matter of exactly what and from where your post-shackling abundance is derived from.” Thacea responded politely, though that politeness hid a level of blunt incredulity that even I could detect. “At least, I assume this to be a matter of purposeful omission on your part.”

That reveal blindsided me, as I was hit face-first with Thacea’s astuteness in the face of what was effectively a paradigm altering series of revelations. The princess’ calm collectedness had already impressed me by this point, but it was these little moments that just really sealed my respect for her capabilities.

I could only hope to match it.

“Oh! That topic. Yeah erm… you’re right on the money with that one, Thacea.” I admitted with a respectful dip of my head. “I appreciate the thoughtfulness there.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Emma. This isn’t the first time I’ve offered conversational courtesy via absentia. And given the subject being broached, I understand the… hesitancy in addressing such matters.” The princess returned the nod. “Though I admit, I was only able to reach the conclusion that I did by combining the pieces of a grander puzzle.” That vague statement elicited yet another cock of my head, which only prompted Thacea to continue further.

“The question of platinum as an indicator for your realm’s advancement was never a matter of concern to me. Our discussions on the topic of metallurgy, stemming from the very first glimpses you provided me of your realm, was proof enough of your people’s competency within the realm of metallurgy. Moreover, it is the matter of brute-force procurement that lies at the heart of my issues with your claims, Emma. The fact of the matter is, even with your advanced processing capabilities, you remain shackled by the very limitation that all realms face. A limitation that pinnacle transmutation addresses — the functional limit of a realm’s material resources.” The princess surmised, her eyes never once wavering, her piercing gaze locking on to my own with a mix of disbelief and burning curiosity.

“Yeah, that’s… actually a point that I was expecting one of you to bring up eventually.” I admitted, reaching for the back of my head, but once again, only bonking it in the process.

“It is, in fact, a rather large point of contention once the shock of your treasury wears off.” The p...

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first

Luna VI query: Set the source to the leaked files of the first reconnaissance operation of Irisa.

Done!

Luna VI query: Tell me the aftermath of Amara’s incident in the meeting.

***

Nathan was only a few steps from Amara, who sat quietly as Queen Khala stood beside her, when an unusual wave of whispers and bursts of exotic colors rippled through the elders. The queen, lost in thought, gripped Amara's hair—her touch far less gentle than Nathan would expect from a mother.

The meeting had fallen into stunned silence after Queen Khala's bold announcement, claiming her daughter was pregnant. Nathan hadn’t fully grasped the implications. In a state of avoidance, his mind refused to entertain the possibility of fatherhood, clinging instead to the hope that there had been some mistake.

Still, watching Amara being held against her will was deeply unsettling. Nathan knew she could easily free herself if she chose to. Her claws, though not raised, were rigid, and he could almost see the turmoil playing out in her mind. The scene brought flashes of Zandrid taking Amara hostage in the valleys, and Nathan, fueled by a growing rage, moved toward her, held together by sheer willpower.

He approached her from behind, ignoring the hostile stares from guards of various factions. With one arm, he held Amara protectively from behind, and with the other, he pushed Queen Khala’s arm away. The queen’s look of disbelief was immediate, but the guards’ reactions were even more telling—guns were raised, some aimed at Nathan, others pointed at one another as tensions escalated.

“I’m sorry for touching you,” Nathan said, his voice steady despite the chaos brewing around him. “But I don’t think Amara is in any condition to attend this meeting right now.” He was so focused on his words that he forgot he was still gripping Queen Khala’s arm.

"Touching me is the least of your offenses," Queen Khala snapped, withdrawing her arm with a sharp, fluid grace. Instead of addressing the elders or guards, she turned toward the three screens displaying the VIPs. "How can a species as powerful and advanced as yours choose this man to represent you? My son, brutally murdered, and now my daughter..." Queen Khala's voice faded, her gaze lost on Amara's belly.

Nathan had been so focused on the Queen that he had momentarily forgotten about the three screens. When he glanced at them, the Martian Prime Minister caught his eye, shaking his head with a stern expression that hinted at disapproval. More pressing to Nathan was Sally, the elderly woman who might actually be his boss. She was typing on her antique wooden keyboard, her entire demeanor suggesting that she found this sort of drama beneath her.

Unexpectedly, it was Zara’s father, Robert, who truly stood out from the others. He had burst into uncontrollable laughter, so loud that it drowned out the murmurs of the elders. Even Zara, reduced to a small square in the bottom corner of the screen, rolled her eyes and sighed, which finally prompted Robert to rein himself in.

“We never blamed you for your obvious schemes to seduce our people,” Robert said between fits of laughter. “So perhaps you should extend the same courtesy.” After another burst of laughter, he added, “If anyone's at fault, it's your daughter—for seducing him far too well.”

Under normal circumstances, Nathan might have found Robert’s comment amusing or leapt to Amara’s defense. But since he saw the situation as a massive misunderstanding, his mind immediately sought reasons why it was impossible. As someone well-versed in biology, he quickly got lost in the complexities of genetic barriers that would make Amara's alleged pregnancy implausible.

While his thoughts raced to find the perfect argument to disprove the absurdity, he suddenly felt a tail coil around his arm. Before he could fully register who it belonged to, he noticed the same thing happening to Amara. Two guards were gently helping her up from her chair. His train of thought shattered as he realized he wouldn’t get the chance to argue. Nathan’s gaze shifted, and then he saw Aldrinch overseeing the group of Irisians, clearly intent on escorting both him and Amara away from the meeting.

Despite Aldrinch's advanced age, Nathan could see the elder’s neck turning red as he argued heatedly with a group of guards nearly twice his size. Even Queen Khala, usually commanding, could only watch as more elders converged around Aldrinch, offering their support. The confrontation quickly escalated into a mass departure, with Nathan and Amara at the center. Aldrinch's guards formed a protective circle around them, escorting them through a towering door.

Nathan’s last glimpse of the room was of the three glowing screens. Queen Khala remained motionless in her spot, surrounded by just a few elders at the now nearly empty table, which felt larger and more hollow than ever.

Amara was by his side, but they were moving too quickly and were surrounded by too many people to speak. Even if privacy weren’t an issue, breaking the silence of such a large, solemn group felt wrong—something unimaginable if the group had been composed of just humans. Still, Nathan’s gaze met Amara’s for a brief moment. Her skin, mostly a mix of blue and black, caught the dim light, but he couldn’t overlook the faint emerald hue around her eyes—the very feature Queen Khala had pointed to as proof of Amara’s pregnancy.

Nathan was usually able to pick up on hints of what Amara was thinking, but this time her gaze felt completely neutral. What did she make of this massive misunderstanding? That question consumed him as the group came to a halt in front of an unremarkable door. Aldrinch ordered the others to step aside, unlocked the door, and said, "What are you waiting for, human? Take her inside!"

It took Nathan a few shameful moments to realize Aldrinch wasn’t speaking to the guards—he was talking to him, the only human there. Once it sank in, Nathan stepped forward without a word, gently holding Amara by the shoulders to help steady her. Without hesitation or questioning why they were there, he guided her into the room, accepting his role in the moment.

The room they entered was stark and functional, a sharp contrast to the ornate palace corridors. The walls were smooth and metallic, with nothing but a faint blue hue decorating their surfaces. A cold, bluish light emanated from fixtures embedded in the ceiling, casting a dim glow over the sparse furnishings. A large, slightly warped mirror dominated one wall, reflecting the room in an unsettling, distorted manner. Simple benches lined the walls, and shelves held neatly folded garments in muted tones. The floor was soft and rubbery, absorbing the sound of their footsteps.

The scene was so unexpected that Nathan whipped his head around and saw Aldrinch inside the room with them, sealing the door and leaving everyone else outside. "What is this place? Why did you bring us here?" Nathan asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

Aldrinch, with his gaze directed at the locked door, exuded an air of quiet wisdom. He seemed almost oblivious to Nathan and Amara's presence, his mind lost in thought as his colors shifted in solitude. Nathan couldn't comprehend why this frail, elderly Irisian had risked angering the queen to aid their escape from the meeting.

"This is where the servants store their uniforms," Aldrinch spoke, his voice carrying the weight of countless experiences. "I chose this place because it's the one sanctuary within the palace where I'm certain the queen's watchful eyes won't penetrate."

Amara’s colors revealed nothing of her inner feelings, but her voice had at least regained some strength after the incident at the table. "What is so important that you could not wait until we left the palace to tell us, Aldrinch?"

"It’s not I who needs to speak, young one—it’s both of you," Aldrinch replied, his voice softening when addressing Amara. "Does the human understand what will happen if the tale of those emerald rings in your eyes is true? Because if it is, both of your lives will change course forever, and the fate of Irisa might change with it. The elders left your mother alone because they can see this change coming. You must be ready for it, whether you and the human like it or not."

Nathan's eyes widened, his mind swirling with questions. He opened his mouth to ask them, but before he could, Aldrinch abruptly opened the door and left, leaving him alone with Amara. His eyes and body language practically screamed that he wanted to talk, but Amara missed all the cues. With a flick of her tail, she brushed his hands aside and immediately rushed toward the mirror, her skin showing hints of purple as she caught sight of her reflection.

Amara's shoulder-length hair draped over most of her elongated ears, with only the tips peeking through the strands. Her face, though largely impassive, displayed a pair of wide, orange eyes surrounded by emerald rings. Her pupils had dilated as if she were standing in complete darkness, giving her the appearance of a tribal warrior adorned in ritualistic makeup, preparing for battle.

As she touched her face, inspecting her swollen lips, Nathan broke the silence. "You don't really think you are pregnant, do you?"

She stopped looking in the mirror, a trace of red appearing on her skin. "I am not aware o...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Nemo__404 on 2024-09-15 16:29:02+00:00.

first

Luna VI query: Set the source to the posthumous memory extraction report of Senator Eelzails of the Core Galaxy Alliance.

Done!

Luna VI query: Narate Eelzails meeting with the high council.

***

The cold, metallic door loomed before Eelzails, a monolithic sentinel that reminded him of his mistake—a failure to escalate the war the humans were fighting. The air was thick with tension, every one of his minds playing scenarios of what would happen inside. His current position was proof enough of his shortcomings; he stood before the entrance that would lead him to the true leadership of the Core Galaxy Alliance. His plan had failed and the humans and the shadowlings were still fine, and now he was here to face the consequences, the base of his antennae pale with dread.

The door opened without a sound, each side parting so slowly that the silence was unnerving. Eelzails didn’t know what to expect; the interior could have been anything—from distinct environments tailored to each of the four founding species to advanced, individually controlled walking spaces. His antennae moved independently, each tracking the movement of one side of the door. When they both reported back an empty interior, a wave of surprise hit him.

He reluctantly took his first step into the cubic room, his antennae scanning in every direction. They found nothing but pristine, polished golden walls reflecting his image from every angle. The sight piqued his curiosity, and he gathered his courage, venturing further until he reached the center of the room. Once there, his antennae became busy, trying to locate the source of the omnipresent light. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, leaving him without a shadow to trace. A soft click echoed behind him as he was focused on this mystery. His antennae whipped back, and he realized the door had closed, sealing him inside this strange space.

Noticing how seamlessly the doors merged into the surrounding walls, forming a single, unbroken expanse of gold, Eelzails felt a surge of panic. Had the High Council decided to imprison him as punishment for his failure? His antennae twitched anxiously as he rushed toward the door, frantically searching for any sign of an opening mechanism. But before he could reach it, the lights shifted, and the room was plunged into darkness, save for four opaque openings near the ceiling that cast an eerie glow, towering over him like prison windows. The room, once pristine, now felt like a trap—a place where the unknown awaited.

Before he could scream or attempt to use any equipment to communicate with the outside, dark silhouettes emerged in the highest parts of the opaque walls. His antennae, each aimed at a different ominous shape, swept the area in synchronized vigilance. Then, his attention locked onto one shadow above the door—a form too familiar to mistake. It was unmistakably a Rumi, the outline of his own species.

"Eelzails, do you know why we summoned you to a core world for a meeting?" The voice that followed was one he had heard before—calm yet authoritative. It belonged to the current representative of his species on the High Council, a figure whose name remained a closely guarded secret, even from a senator like him.

"Because I failed my task." Eelzails felt so cornered that making excuses didn’t even cross his mind.

"Your failure?" The voice responded, tinged with disappointment. "No, Eelzails, this is not about your failure alone. The entire Alliance has faltered. The task of creating a war among the humans was never just yours—it was ours. We all share the blame for what has transpired. Now, we must decide how to move forward, together, just as we did at the dawn of this alliance when we first suppressed the deathworlders’ violence."

Eelzails was speechless, but inside, his minds raced. Sharing the blame was typical of the Rumi, yet if this meeting mirrored the dynamics of the parliament, things could quickly turn ugly. One of his antennae swept over the dark silhouettes, focusing on one that resembled an Asaidian. His other antenna joined in, both now bent in a defensive posture as he braced himself for the inevitable admonishment.

"Is this how little trust you have in the current Asaidians?" The shadows shifted, and Eelzails discerned that the Asaidian was speaking. "Exaggerated pride is indeed a flaw of this generation, but such cultural tides ebb and flow with time. We are one Alliance, and I stand by the Rumi. We share the blame and move forward, together."

A third shadow, elongated and segmented, moved gracefully along the wall. It belonged to a centipede-like being, each of its countless legs rippling in synchronized motion. The creature's voice emerged a low, resonant hum that filled the room. "The Rumi and Asaidians speak wisely. We must not let the errors of the past divide us. Together, we will overcome the deathworlders, just as we have always done."

By appearance alone, Eelzails recognized the unique species that the voice belonged to, the Anziell. This species, despite its high status within the Alliance, rarely appeared in public, as their unsettling appearance was often poorly received by bipedal beings, including deathworlders. Yet, despite these peculiarities, the spirit of unity he encountered here in the High Council was astonishing—something he could never have imagined.

His antennae shifted toward the final wall, the one opposite the door. He anticipated seeing the shadows of the most reclusive species in the Alliance for the first time: the legendary Tiseall, the first species in the galaxy to have reached the stars millions of standard cycles into the past.

Eelzails waited, his antennae aimed at the wall opposite the door, but no voice emerged, nor did any shadow appear. He wasn’t entirely surprised; it seemed fitting that such an ancient and enigmatic species might choose not to attend. It was a reasonable assumption—one that was about to be shattered.

"Most senators aren’t aware of this," the Rumi’s voice broke the silence, calm yet heavy with revelation, "but the Tiseall have been extinct for some time, Eelzails." As he spoke, the shadow of the Rumi moved behind the opaque wall, its antennae twitching with a blend of solemnity and sadness. The slow motion of the antennae mirrored the weight of the news, as if they, too, bore the burden of this ancient secret finally coming to light.

"This... shouldn’t be possible." Eelzails struggled to process the revelation, his emotions spiraling beyond his comprehension. How could he have failed and yet be entrusted with such privileged information? Even more shocking was the idea that the Tiseall, the oldest and most revered species in the galaxy, had gone extinct. How had they managed to keep this secret from the entire Alliance? His minds wrestled with the implications, refusing to accept what seemed impossible.

"Unfortunately, it is true." The Rumi representative’s shadow halted in front of the opaque wall, his antennae lowering toward Eelzails. "We summoned you here to discuss what happened on Irisa, but I believe you should first hear about the demise of the Tiseall. All in favor of revealing this?"

"Yes." The response came in unison, so perfectly synchronized it sounded almost mechanical. Eelzails was still grappling with the revelation when the Rumi continued.

"How much do you know about the galaxy before the Alliance, Eelzails?"

"The same as the other Senators," Eelzails replied. "Deathworlders were raiding our planets when we were divided, then the four founding species united to face the threat, won the war, and created the Alliance that has endured for thousands of standard cycles."

The shadow of the Rumi began to pace back and forth, as if agitated. "That is true, but only part of it. Do you know what is the biggest difference between us and the deathworlders?"

"Their harsh planets made them overcompetitive and prone to violence." To the common member of the Alliance, beings with claws, fangs, or forward-facing eyes were often referred to as deathworlders. The scholars, enthusiasts, and senators, on the other hand, often used a clarification as intended, based on the harshness of their environment to classify the deathworlders, a clarification that had Irisa as the benchmark for the harshest possible environment that could sustain sapient life.

The shadow of the Rumi stopped and turned its antennae toward him. "It's much more profound than that, Eelzails. While we gaze at the vastness of the stars and wonder about our purpose, deathworlders look to the stars and wonder why everything is so empty. They are incapable of self-reflection and cannot accept this emptiness. This happens because, deep down, they know they wouldn't leave a single star shining in the night if given the chance. If not contained, deathworlders would conquer the galaxy, leaving no room for other species to evolve."

"This..." Eelzails had never considered this particular problem. To him, his actions were always intended to contain violence and prevent harm against the civilized species. "How is this connected to the extinction of the Tiseall?"

The shadow of the Asaidian spoke first, voice heavy with sorrow. "The Tiseall were the most advanced species of the early Alliance. Their technology was so far ahead that they took it upon themselves to contain the deathwor...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Accomplished_Oil_611 on 2024-09-15 13:34:56+00:00.

Caitlin was a mischievous child.  When she was just 2, she was able to climb out of her crib, crawl down the stairs, open the freezer, and pull out the ice cream.  She was even able to find a spoon and crawl into a closet to avoid the authorities.  Perhaps to her benefit, she was often foiled in her heist, unable to open the top and get that creamy goodness.  When she was 5, she’d figured out the near infinite complexities of the TV remote, enabling her to navigate to her favorite shows, which included Sponge-Bob, Uncle-Grandpa, and the multitude of Saw movies, which she preferred to The Purge.  This invariably followed her into the evening where she revisited all the finer details in her high-definition nightmare. 

Her parents were, generally speaking, not the best.  They patted themselves on the back as successful parents for putting food on her plate, not leaving her in the hot car, and keeping her away from the toolshed.  Beyond that, they didn’t win too many Adulting awards.  However, after she’d managed to crawl into their bed for the third time in a week, they began strategizing a solution.  Obviously, simply not watching the terribly inappropriate and terrifyingly scary shows was no longer an option.  So, they researched the problem and found an unlikely article recommending lucid dreams.  That evening, before bed, they sat her down and explained it to her.  “You can control your nightmares if you can wake up inside of them.”  

Caitlin didn’t know what her parents meant, but she did trust them.  She thought about it into the evening as her eyes grew heavier.  Then she was there, in a dark cave at the top of a cliff.  Deep in the cave was a spider and it was crawling out, pushing her towards the edge.  She was so scared.  She couldn’t think about anything except the terror and … something nudged at the back of her mind.  Suddenly she remembered what her parents said, and that was it.  She was suddenly awake within her dream.  She pushed the spider back into the cave with her mind.  The cave collapsed and she was falling.  She screamed but then remembered, she can control it.  So, she started flying.  The monster came from the shadow and started following her.  She made it her pet.

Caitlin loved her dreams.  The worse they were, the better.  Her parents began to offer her horror movies because they kept her so calm.  She was excited to go to bed and to fall deep into her dreams where she was a god, and anything could happen.  She was happy.  

Years went by and Caitlin’s childhood gave way to other thoughts and pursuits.  Her evening nightmares gave way to dreams of romance.  Her nightmares were more focused on the real world… bills, rumors, health.  She was still young when she got her first seizure.  She was taken to the doctor where she was diagnosed with a rare degenerative disease.  It began like Epilepsy, but the disease would spiral out of control over time.  She would be dead within the year.  

The seizures were scary.  She’d shake, and then… nothing.  She’d wake up seconds later on the ground.  People were staring at her and strangers were approaching.  Time passed and she woke up minutes later, with people holding her.  Sometimes she’d have clothing in her mouth to keep her from biting her tongue.  She had no memory of it.  More time passed and she’d wake up hours later.  She was in the hospital now.  Sensors covered her body, a tube was down her throat, she had a catheter.  Again, she had no memory, no dreams, no loneliness, and not even a memory of darkness.  There was nothing human in it; nothing conscious.  She imagined that this is what death would bring.  Cold empty nonexistence where time didn’t exist.  She thought about it a lot.  

She was in the park.  She thought about the seizures.  She focused on the fainting, and about snapping out of it.  Her mind drifted back to her childhood fears.  She remembered that first night, that first dream.  And then, as she felt the seizure coming, she remembered the feeling.  She remembered taking control.  Darkness… Nothing… Snap… she was awake.

Caitlin was looking at herself.  She saw the people around her begin to panic.  She saw the ambulance come and take her body to the hospital.  She followed.  She found herself in a bed.  The doctor was there talking to her parents.  They were talking about her.  She didn’t have long now.  She felt her heart race.  She felt the panic.  She heard the voice of the child inside her that said she could change it, manipulate it, even control it.  Her feet left the ground.  She reached into herself, and she pulled the malignant mass from her skull.  It evaporated into nothingness.  She saw her body tense, then relax.  She saw the doctors scramble to understand the readings from the many sensors hooked to her body.  She laid down within herself and she awoke.

Caitlin lived a prosperous and wondrous life.  Those around her had the best of luck.  Odd things happened everywhere she went.  Illness faded in moments.  Financial issues disappeared overnight.  People were happy.  The years grew long, and death approached.  Still Caitlin wasn’t scared.  She was familiar with the silent emptiness, the nothingness… she knew it could be overcome.  She knew the truth about lucid dreams.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Pacobell1245 on 2024-09-15 10:14:01+00:00.

"Grandpa now that we're at the park bench please tell me the rest of the story!" The grandson said.

"Alright I will since I can tell it means that much to you." The grandpa said with a slight laugh.

After we reverse engineered their ships we started production of our own. Not American or Russian or even Chinese. These ships were human. Every nation on earth worked together and win a year we had Thousands. We launched our first attack during the first minute of the year 2035! It was glorious to take to the stars.

"All hands to battle stations!" The captain yelled over the PA systems. I ran to man my fighter. I was one of the Humans who got lucky in the selection. "Pilots on my signal launch all craft!" The captain told us. I was nervous. My stomach was down making small talk to my nuts. No matter how many fights you get in the next one can always be your last. Though with my gunner and best friend Marquez I knew where were going to make it!

"Launch!" The captain ordered. We launched our craft out into space already hitting mach in mere seconds. The dampeners working double time! For the briefest of moments, I got to admire space. It's one thing to get to stare at the stars from the ground, it's a whole other thing to see them from space.

"Bogie closing in 4 o'clock!" Marquez said snapping me out of the trans! I hit the thrusters, and we dusted his ass. Marquez locked onto the bogie while it was hot on our tail. I cut the back thrusters and turned the front ones on full blast. The Hanlani fighter shot by us, and right as he did Marquez launched a sidewinder at him.

"Clean hit!" I yelled out. I put my hand over my shoulder and we high fived. It was our first kill in space! I turned back on the back burners, and we lurched forward into the fray. It still sends shivers down my spine. There was explosions on both sides. Missiles flying along with Hanlani plasma! Thousands of fighters locked into combat!

"All fighters clean up and focus on the destroyers. Do bombing runs where you can! Captain Andrew out!" Captain finished his orders, and we did as we were told. I took us into the fray heading straight for the destroyer closest to us. I flow through debris zipping around using wreckage as shielding! They were larger than what I was prepared for.

"Look alive Billie PD lasers are alive!" Marquez yelled out. I started juking and jiving around in space. Most of that time narrowly dodging the lasers. Luckily for me they had a little tell tell sign they were about to fire. Right before they fired you would see for a brief second a buildup of heat in the cannon. I used that to my advantage devastatingly well, The moment I spotted it I would move just enough that I wouldn't get hit. The Hanlani had mistakenly only used one rapid fire PDG. It was like they never expected swarm tactics to be used against them.

"I'm locked on with a nuke tip!" Marquez yelled out. The moment he fired that shot I turned that fighter around! I like to be warm on a summer day not burned alive by a nuke. I looked back and seen that destroyer blow clean in two. I still like to imagine the look of horror on those bastards faces!

"I'm taking us back to the hanger rearm!" I told Marquez.

"Negatory we still have enough ammo to take care of some fighters or take out some PDG on other destroyers!" Marquez told me.

"Alright let's take care of the fighters to help our fleet out." I said. I fired up the engine and we went full speed into a dog fight. I spotted one of our fighters trying to shake a Hanlani fighter. I thought that would be the best place to start.

"Marquez can you get a lock on that Hanlani before our friend over there meets space Jesus?" I yelled jokingly

"It would be just a bit easier if you could actually fly worth a shit!" Marquez said while laughing. I fake gasped in indignation.

"Locked, missile out. Clean hit." Marquez said while the once tic tac shaped fighter exploded. We tried to catch another fighter off guard when we came under fire from a Hanlani corvette!

"Marquez, we need to unfuck ourselves! Do we have enough ammo left to cripple that corvette?" I asked.

"Affirmative Big Billy we do. Though we won't have enough ammo for anything else. Maybe a few slugs of RA." Marquez told me.

"That sounds good enough to me." I yelled out as I took us in for a strafing run against the corvette! I let loose with the only weapon I had control of which was the rail gun. The first few shots bounced harmlessly off of the shields. Then the shields went down, and I got lucky when a round pierced far down its PDG and blew up the power source for the lasers it shot. Then the missiles from Marquez blew up the bridge and the engines. It's not a total wipe out of the ship, but it did make it combat ineffective.

"I'm taking us back, were low on fuel and I only have one RA left!" I told Marquez and he agreed. I took us back to the carrier UHV Hell Hath No Fury. I set our course and set auto pilot. I then sat back to catch my breath. It was exhilarating, though combat can cause much fatigue. While relaxing I looked back towards the battle. It was clear to anyone who looked at it who was winning. We caught the Hanlani totally off guard. They hadn't noticed the rapid loss of materials or did but couldn't figure out where it was going. Most of their token occupation fleet had been destroyed. What had not been destroyed was being harassed by the other fighters. I knew this because the lasers of the Hanlani PDG were firing wildly!

"Fighters return to bays and rearm and refuel." Captain Andrew ordered. I thought to myself that I was already on the way anyway. When we made it to the ship I landed and got out. I struggled to stand or walk for a brief moment. It always happened to me for the first few minutes after I got done in space and returned to artificial gravity. It happened to many other pilots too. I stopped to look out of the bay to watch the rest of the fight.

The remaining Hanlani battleship was taking on UHV Carnage. It was a battleship. The Carnage had 100 mounted railguns and while I'm not for sure, I was told 1000 missile launchers. Needless to say there is a reason it was called the Carnage. It was firing all of its rail guns one after another. The Hanlani battleship was taking massive damage, but it was putting up one hell of a fight. I was watching the two behemoths fight and it reminded me of watching two heavy weight fighters. The Carnage had shield and a massive amount of armor. The plasma weapons were strong against the shields, but it was having trouble with the 100 feet of steel. The Carnage launched a volley of missiles. I have no idea of how many there was in the volley but easily 500 missiles were heading for the Hanlani battleship! Its armor deflecting and absorbing much of the damage. Sadly, for the crew of that battleship some missiles went into the holes from the rail guns. The ship exploded one section at a time.

"Marquez, I think that we did it. Our people are free once more." I told him. We hugged each other and cried tears of joy. He was like a brother to me after all we had been through, and we both lost so much. Heck he is your great uncle too since I married his sister.

"Grandpa you're getting off topic I knew Uncle Marquez before he passed." The Grandson said.

"You're right." Billy said.

After losing so much earth was free. My grandpappy was avenged and so was Marquez's family. We however knew that the fight was far from over! It was only just the beginning. We would get our people back and bring them back home. Then in order for Earth to be truly safe the Hanlani would need to be eradicated.

"Follow me." Billy told his grandson.

"Where too grandpa?" The grandson asked.

"Somewhere special. I think there is something you should see." Billy replied.

Thank you for reading this installment of Never Again! The Hanlani War Chronicles. I truly hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/sjanevardsson on 2024-09-15 14:49:43+00:00.

Glory, honor, the chance to prove himself. For any warrior, this would be the chance of a lifetime. For Kendrick, however, prophesied to perform the greatest feat a person could, this was everything. The enemy was encroaching on his clan’s sacred lands. Not other clans, not even people, no. People knew well enough to leave sacred spaces unsullied.

No, these were abominations that shouldn’t exist. They had no connection to the land, no history in this place beyond the last few moons. In those few moons, though, they built their monstrous edifices close to the sacred river on one side and loosed their gargantuan beasts over lands that bordered the shared burial grounds of all the clans.

These giant creatures looked like people, but on an immense scale. If Kendrick was to drive them out, it would require his deep connection to the land. That, and the intelligence and keen minds of people compared to the slow, stupid giants.

Kendrick donned his uniform and headed out to scout the giants in the forest. They weren’t difficult to spot when one knew where to look, but they were surprising in their ability to be stealthy when they desired.

He came across a couple of them, both females. He used his years of experience to climb into the lower canopy without making a sound. If there were females here, there had to be males close by. They wouldn’t let their females wander too far without protection.

As he scanned as far as he could see, the giantesses below him grunted at each other, and one of them scratched marks on a stack of leaves with a stick that had a burnt end.

Clever, but hardly indicative of intelligence. It was likely she saw a person writing and was copying what she’d seen. The leaves were probably because they weren’t smart enough to make clay tablets on which to write.

A crashing in the brush caught his attention. Four males showed up and they grunted at the females. An exchange of grunts later, the females followed the males back into the heavy brush.

Kendrick waited until they were completely out of hearing and returned to the forest floor. Following them would be simple enough. Each of their footprints were as long as he was tall. The female had dropped her burnt stick. It had seemed small in her hand but was nearly as tall as him. The outside was coated in some sort of paint and was smoothed round.

For the time being, he hid the scratching stick in the brush so he could bring it back to the elders to study. He had tracks to follow, if he was to learn everything he could about the monsters. Only fools rushed to attack an enemy they didn’t understand, and Kendrick was not going to be a fool today or any day.

The giants covered great distances in a short time, their immense strides taking them through the forest at a pace unsustainable for any but the largest or swiftest creatures. Even here, though, people had an advantage over the monsters. Through their connection to the forest, people had developed methods of travel that far-outstripped walking or running.

The tracks led to a worn path the size of a major road. In parts, it was as wide as the entire village square. Kendrick followed it to the edge of the clearing where the giants had erected their constructions made from trees torn out of the ground and ripped into strips. He didn’t know how they accomplished that, but he didn’t want to face that kind of strength head-on. He would if he had to, but a harassing strategy was looking like his best bet and there was no one more capable of it than him.

He climbed a tree just a little way back from the clearing, all the way to the very top. Once atop the tree, he unfurled his wings from the pack on his back and jumped. To say he could fly would be an overstatement. Instead, the wings allowed him to soar, gliding down unless he caught a strong updraft. Here in the forest, those kinds of updrafts didn’t happen.

He managed to sail all the way back to where he’d stashed the burnt stick. The elders would know what kind of wood it was, and what kind of paint was on the outside. They might even know how the monsters found such smooth, straight sticks in the first place.

The stick wasn’t overly heavy, but it was too cumbersome to climb with, so he had to walk the rest of the way back to the village. It was nearing sunset when he returned.

Not wanting to alarm anyone with the giant’s stick, he snuck into the village from the back side and made straight for the elder’s hall. The walls were formed of a silk cottonwood tree that was grown around a clay form. Once the burl formed completely around the clay, it was hollowed out by breaking and removing the clay, and a door added.

Kendrick brought the stick to the elders, who sat around their table, enjoying mushroom soup by the light of a glow-worm lamp. “Elders, one of the monsters, a female, was mimicking writing with this burnt stick on a pile of leaves.”

They all rose from their meal and gathered around to examine the stick. “So smooth,” said the first. “This paint is so even,” said the second. The third sniffed at the blackened end, her forehead crinkled, and she scraped at it with a knife.

The look of consternation didn’t leave her face. The more she scraped, the more blackened dust it created. She grabbed a hatchet from the workbench and began chopping away at the end of the stick.

The more she chopped, the more concerned she looked. Finally, she began chopping at the middle of the stick until the black core showed there as well.

“This is a finely made instrument, not a painted, burnt stick.” She carefully carved away more of the wood from the dark central rod, until the rod broke. “Notice how soft the center is, in order to leave marks. This was not grown like this, either. It was made from dead wood and whatever this central rod is.”

“How can you tell, Grandmother?” Kendrick asked. She wasn’t his actual grandmother, but everyone in the village, including the other elders, “Grandfather” and “Great Aunt ,” called her that.

“Look here,” she said. “This faint line. This is two pieces of dead wood, joined together somehow.”

“You’re saying the giants are smart?” he asked.

“I’m saying they are like people,” she said.

“How will I fulfill my prophecy?” he asked. “If they were brute monsters, I could scare them from the forest and they would leave us alone for many generations. If you’re saying they’re as smart as people….”

“That’s not what Grandmother said,” Great Aunt cut in. “She said they are people.”

“But how? People know how to work with the trees for what they need, rather than kill them. They kill their own beasts and eat their flesh. They are monsters, through and through.” Just saying what he knew of them sent shivers down Kendrick’s spine.

Grandfather chuckled. “Did you think that combat was the only way to fulfill a prophecy? Maybe you’re meant to talk to them and ask them to leave.” He broke down in a coughing laugh until Grandmother caught his eye with her stern expression.

“Kendrick. You’ve worked your whole life toward this,” she said, “but maybe in the wrong direction. Still, take the skills you have and do what you can to keep the giant people from crossing into the burial grounds.”

“I will,” he said. “I will keep them out, even if costs my life.” He strode out of the elder’s hall into the lengthening shadows with a sense of dread purpose.

As the door closed behind him, he heard Great Aunt tut and exclaim, “Always so serious, that one.”

Kendrick spent the night preparing his weapons and trying to decide if anyone should join him as he went to confront the monster people. He ultimately decided he would be better off doing it alone. He set up a mind stone up in his room that would record everything he experienced. Every sight, sound, scent, and vibration; even those he didn’t consciously notice.

If he did die, the elders would know to look for the stone and discover what happened. Either way, he knew he was heading out to fulfill his prophecy.

It took two glides from the tallest trees to reach the trail at the edge of the monsters’ clearing. There was activity in the clearing, with the monsters using open fire to roast the flesh of their slain beasts.

It took all Kendrick had not to vomit, but he steeled himself as he had done in combat with the other clans in the past. The creatures were busy and not paying attention to the tree line, so he took advantage of that. He climbed to the top of one of the trees on the very edge of the clearing, careful to keep himself hidden among the leaves, his uniform providing perfect camouflage.

Three times as he moved into position, one or more of the creatures looked right at him. They must have excellent hearing, he thought. Each time, he froze and waited for them to look away. Since there was no other reaction from them, he was certain he hadn’t been spotted.

Kendrick readied his spear, unfurled his wings, and jumped. He wouldn’t be able to kill them with a single blow, but if he could get over the fire, he could ride the thermals up and keep diving at them and harassing them with his blade.

Faster than he thought they would be able, one of the females turned and put a hand out, stopping him before he reached the fire. “And now I die,” he said. He froze. There he stood on her palm and any moment now, she would squeeze, and he would be dead.

The blow never came. Instead, the female grunted at him. It sounded like words. The accent was thick, but she was…speaking?!

“Wh—what?” he stammered. ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/BlueFishcake on 2024-09-15 13:20:50+00:00.

Piper was an alchemist. A fairly talented one at that. She was the one who invented Bear-Blood after all.

Prior to her enrolment in the alchemist’s guild, the venerable guild had been churning out a variant of Earth-Blood that did little more than burn hotter and longer. In short, a slight improvement on the base asset of the substance at a ruinous cost in reagents.

Ever-Burn, they’d called it.

The Navy named it Demon-Piss.

Personally, Piper thought the latter name more apt. After all, what else could one name a substance that had an unfortunate tendency to spontaneously ignite when unduly jostled? Just transporting the damnable substance from a ship’s reinforced storage locker carried risk – let alone loading it into a drop-pot, mounting it onto a shard’s underside before then carrying it into battle.

Sure, it was powerful – and woe be to any bucket-brigade or hose-handler set to put out the blazes it created – but the cost in friendly ships and shards destroyed due accidental mishandling or enemy action wasn’t worth it.

At least in the eyes of the Royal procurement committee and many ducal martials.

‘A weapon better suited to the barbarism of the old continent,’ was a line she vividly recalled from her days as a young journeywoman.

Personally, she was of the belief that the damnable substance’s infamous reputation was a large part of the reason for why the invention of carrier-airships was delayed. No captain wanted to helm a vessel expected to carry so much Demon-Piss in its hold.

So, she’d been the one to invent an alternative. One that went against both tradition and methodology. Rather than try to reinforce the nature of a thing, she sought to contradict it by layering two concepts over one another by finding a substance that embodied the contrasts she’d needed.

And she succeeded.

Eventually.

Bear-Blood was an improvement in all regards.

A nuanced mixture of Earth-Blood, bear fangs and gold flakes, the alchemical solution rendered Earth-Blood’s inherent fiery nature inert and safe to transport – until the thick oily substance’s fury needed to be awakened into a fiery cataclysm. Not unlike a hungry bear awakening from winter.

Hibernation was the concept.

Naturally, the Royal Navy had been incredibly interested in a weapon that wasn’t just stable, but actively inert until salmon eggs were added to the mixture. Indeed, it didn’t take long for Bear-Blood to become a staple of Lindholmian navies. And while that alone had not been enough to elevate her to the position of Guildmaster, it certainly paved the way.

Which was all a very long-winded way of saying that Piper was a very good alchemist – and thus why it was so annoying that these days she seldom got to perform any actual alchemy.

Or even oversee it.

Because her boss seemed to think her some kind of jack-of-all-trades who was quite happy to oversee any and every project taking place in the many workshops that populated his domain.

That she was actually qualified to do so didn’t make it any less annoying.

“Steady,” she commanded. “You’re spreading your focus too thin. I can see deformation in the left wing. We’re just expanding the cockpit, don’t let your mind wander.”

And that was fortunate, because Piper had seen the designs for the new wings, and complicated didn’t even begin to describe them.

Forget the insanity that was taking out all but the front ballast – which they were filling with water for some deep-forsaken reason - what kind of madman decided to design wings that fold?

The one she was working for apparently.

“Yes ma’am,” the half-elven mage-smith she was speaking to nodded, though she kept her eyes closed.

All the better to help visualize the changes she was trying to make to the frame of the shard on her right, her hand pressed against the wing on her left, her magic requiring a physical connection to the metal she was trying to shape.

Something Piper knew because she’d spent many a month doing the exact same kind of work – or otherwise tutoring her people on the subject.

Which was why the elven mage-smith’s other hand was pressed against the wing of a different shard on her right. The same Unicorn that was scheduled to be returned to the capital within the next fortnight. For now though, it was serving as a reference for the mage as the half-elf sought to replicate the shape of its cockpit and some parts of the body on the Drake on her left.

Even as Piper watched, the large block of aluminium that had been crudely welded to the body of the Drake shrunk, flowing into the frame of the Drake as the cockpit of the machine lengthened in time with the body.

Not perfectly though, she thought as she regarded a small divot that formed in the cockpit ring.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a huge issue and wasn’t worth reminding the girl of like she’d done with the wing. Imperfections like that were only to be expected where mage-smithing was concerned and was part of the reason why most mage-smiths had a small army of plebian blacksmiths and panel-beaters whose job it was to smooth away any such imperfections with more mundane tools.

Most, she thought again, her mind twisting towards a certain freak of nature who standing next to her watching the changes being made to the shard.

To her knowledge, William Redwater’s work, on those occasions he stepped into one of the many workshops in his domain, was to quote one of the mage-smiths she’d spoken to on the matter, ‘flawless’.

Not good. Not great. Flawless.

That was not a word any mage-smith she knew would use lightly. Not in a vocation for whom flaws were an unavoidable reality. Admittedly, the young woman she’d spoken to was exactly that, young, but the fact remained that William’s talent was rather… unnatural.

So much so that she almost wanted to ask why he had one of his subordinates working on such a critical piece of his burgeoning military rather than doing it himself. Because it was obvious it was important to him, otherwise he wouldn’t be present to watch.

She said nothing though.

Instead, the two stood in relative silence as over the next few minutes the frame of the Drake twisted until it was a warped mirror of the Unicorn next to it.

Even ignoring the myriad small imperfections in the former-Drake’s frame, the Unicorn it was at least partially based on had a back-mounted propeller, while the new one had an opening at the front for said propeller instead. Indeed, that was but one of the many small changes her lord had insisted on, resulting in a frame that was both similar to the Unicorn and yet strikingly different.

“Excellent work,” Piper congratulated as the mage-smith finally took her hands off the machines, opening her slightly bloodshot eyes to smile at her ‘superior’.

“M-my thanks, ma’am,” the girl smiled at her, before bowing to the count. “To you and the lord both, for giving me this opportunity.”

Piper simply nodded back. “You earned it.”

And that was the truth. The half-elf was the most talented mage-smith of the crop the Queen had sent their way. Which was a fairly high bar to reach in truth. None of them had much in the way of experience – hence why Piper had found herself in charge of… pretty much everyone despite being theoretically the head of the Alchemist’s alone – but they were all the definition of hungry young talents.

Hunger that had been stoked to new heights by their lord’s development of the long-desired interrupter gear. Which had no doubt been part of his plan.

Indeed, she turned to her lord expecting him to say some words of his own, only to find the boy had barely even heard the words of the young mage.

No, his focus was entirely on the frame of the newly formed frame in front of him, a hint of something akin to… nostalgia in his eyes.

Then the moment passed and he snapped out of it.

“Yes, excellent work,” he said quickly, before turning his gaze to the other occupants of the room, pitching his voice to be better heard. “In fact, let me speak to all of you when I say that though the task set before you was difficult, each and every one of you has surpassed my wildest expectations in a very short timeframe. And though the work on this new design has scarcely begun, it forms an incredible foundation for what is yet to come. I have not a doubt in my mind that, before the month is through, this new design will be soaring through the skies, carrying the next generation of shard-pilots with it.”

The small speech got an equally small smattering of applause. Something the boy clearly noticed as his smile became a little stiff, but to his credit he managed not to let it show before he turned to her, even as the mage-smith from before limped away with some help from her assistant.

“So, did I say something wrong just then or is there a morale issue I’m ignorant of?” he asked quietly.

Ignoring the momentary flush that threatened to slip across her features at the sensation of an attractive young man whispering in her ear, she made a so-so gesture.

“Mostly the former and a little of the latter,” she said, making him raise an eyebrow before she explained. “The news of who exactly will be piloting the new craft has begun to make the rounds.”

And given that just about every mage-smith in existence wanted to be a mage-knight at some point in their lives, the rumour that a bunch of mundanes might be being elevated to the rank before them was definitely a sore spot.

Piper knew she’d felt a prick of an old emotional wound s...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/LordCoale on 2024-09-15 05:39:14+00:00.

First - Previous

I swam the docking tube from the Behemoth, before passing into the Gibraltar’s gravity. I looked over my shoulder to see the rest of my team, followed by Trey, Admiral Halsey and the senior Aglildai officers. As I grabbed the safety bar to stop my momentum, I swung into the yellow and black striped decking. This small space was aboard the station, but by custom, was part of the docked ship’s space. Beyond was officially the Navy’s largest military station in the system. But it even though it out massed the Behemoth, it was smaller in size.

I stopped and saluted the Federation flag before turning to the deck officer on duty. The poor marine second lieutenant looked lost as he surveyed my party. “Permission to come aboard?”

“Granted, General.” The second lieutenant, whose name tag read Perkins, saluted crisply. “Welcome aboard the Gibraltar.”

“Why do you ask permission to come aboard?” Admiral Halsey asked. “We were invited, weren’t we?”

“Yes, we were. It is an ancient human military tradition, going back to the days of ships sailing on water. I really don’t know the origin of it. We just have to do it.”

“The humans have many confusing traditions,” Trey added. “I have learned to just accept it and not ask too many questions.”

“Lieutenant Commander Kalei will escort you to the conference,” Perkins said, and I could almost feel his relief to pass us on to someone more senior.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” I reached out to shake his hand, but apparently, he’d never had a flag officer do this because his eyes grew wide for a moment before he took it. “Have a good day, son.”

I turned to the huge navy officer who was just slightly smaller than Sven, “Good morning, Lieutenant Commander. Pleas lead the way.”

“Yes, sir. The Fleet Admiral is looking forward to meeting all of you,” he rumbled. His deep baritone voice fit him. For some reason, I thought he’d probably have a wonderful singing voice.

“The last time I was here, this station was under construction. That was eight years ago, I think. It was the fist station built to use the new Mark Thirty missiles, and I heard it was refit with the M-230XT rapid fire countermissile launchers.”

“Yes, sir. We finished the refit two years ago. We have fifteen percent fewer launchers, but the new launchers can launch more missiles, and the space saved was repurposed to extra magazine capacity. It added another ten thousand countermissiles. But the biggest change was the modification of our ammunition systems to use the same transorbital external magazines as the ODPs. That meant we could streamline the planetside munitions resupply. And those things did make a difference in this battle.”

“I can see where that would be beneficial,” I replied.

As we walked, I could see evidence of battle damage. Several temporary power and data cables had been strung along the side of the corridor and there were scorch marks around several power distribution panels.

“I apologize, sir, but the local lifts are still out of commission. There are some working ones further in. The core took very little damage, but the rest of the station has some dents and dings.”

“The fleet is going to be in the body and fender shop for a while,” I replied. “We’re going to need reinforcements until the battle losses are repaired or replaced.”

“It would have been a lot worse without your arrival. For myself, I want to thank your friends. I don’t know if we could have held off much longer.”

“It was our pleasure to assist,” Halsey replied. “We will never say no to a good fight, especially when helping friends.”

“Thank God you are friends,” Kalei replied with feeling.

“You should thank General Pierre. I do not know how much your deity had to do with it.”

Halsey’s comment got a round of chuckles from the humans as they boarded a large lift. The doors closed almost all the way, and Kalei hammered on the left side a few times to get it to close. “Sorry, General. I said it was working. I didn’t say it was in perfect working order.”

“I’ve seen plenty of battle damage before. I am just happy the station has atmosphere, and I am not in my flight suit.”

“I am happy to be out of my Mark Four, sir,” Kalei said. “I spent six days in it, and it’s a bit ripe.”

“Hazards of the job, son. I spent twelve days in my flight suit once. It was rank. I managed to talk supply into getting another one.”

The fast moving lift came to a stop and the doors opened, but smoothly this time. Across the corridor, three marine guards stood outside a secure hatch. The staff sergeant in charge of the guard detail barked, “Admiral on deck!” And then saluted the Aglildai admiral.

“What is he doing?” Halsey asked.

“He is saluting the senior officer of our group. That is you. It is another military custom for a junior to salute a superior officer. In groups, they salute the senior officer of the group. You salute him back.”

“I see. I will take Trey’s advice and just accept it. I return the salute like this?” He raised his left hand to his head, touching just above his multifaceted eyes.

“We normally use the other hand, but that’s close enough,” I explained.

“Take me to your leader,” Halsey said. After several moments of disbelief, the humans all started laughing. Halsey turned to Sven and added, “Did I say that right?”

“My friend, that is everything I expected,” Sven answered between gasping laughs. “I am going to laugh about that every day for the rest of my life.”

“Dammit, Sven. Can’t you take anything seriously?” I groused. But I didn’t put any anger into it. It was funny as hell.

“Major Baldursson explained the origin of that term,” Halsey said. “I agreed it would be funny.”

“I just hope the security cameras caught it. That is going to get me free drinks for the rest of my life,” Sven had laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“The Fleet Admiral is waiting on you,” the staff sergeant said before opening the conference room hatch.

“Thank you, Staff Sergeant.” I led the way. Yes, Halsey outranked me, but he was a guest.  

The marine guards watched in frank curiosity as we passed. Not many of the humans in this system had seen the newcomers face to face. I had become used to them, but I realized that the rest of humanity wanted more. Sven’s joke would likely be seen by everyone in the system in short notice, and then beyond into all human space.

Inside, Fleet Admiral Davidoff and his staff stood in dress whites. It was a stark contrast between my Marines in our rumpled duty uniforms and the Aglildai and Lopingu with no uniform other than their utility harnesses.

When we’d all entered, Davidoff spoke, “Attention on deck.” His entire staff snapped to attention, and he saluted the Aglildai admiral.

“I salute back, right? With this hand?” Halsey raised his right hand in a return salute.

“That’s right,” I replied. “And you drop your salute first.”

With that courtesy completed, I took notice that there were multiple civilians in formal attire. I assumed they were part of the planetary and system government.

“Welcome aboard the Gibraltar,” Davidoff said. I’d never served with the man but knew his reputation. He was one of the finest military minds around and a damned fine leader.

“Thank you, Admiral Davidoff,” Halsey replied. The Gibraltar command staff looked at their guests with guarded curiosity, as if they didn’t want to get caught staring.

“Let me introduce President Moudry.” Davidoff waved a well dressed man forward.

“I don’t know the proper form of greeting for your people,” Moudry said

“We have come to appreciate your ritual of shaking hands.” Halsey reached out his clawed, three fingered hand. I watched as President Moudry overcame any hesitation and shook hands in friendship.

“On behalf of the Ikenga System, I would like to offer our formal thanks. You will probably hear this quite a bit in the future, but without your arrival, I fear our planet would have been destroyed.”

“It was the least we could do. Our ship had been stranded in hyperspace for over nine hundred of your years. We have survived twenty generations, but it was no real life for any of us. We had no future until General Pierre found us. I don’t know how many more years we would have been stranded, likely forever. He saved my ship and my people.”

“What will you do now?” Davidoff asked.

“We had thought to go home, to return to the Imperium,” Halsey replied. “But we will not be alive to see it.”

“If none of you were alive when the Behemoth left the Imperium, then why do you consider it home?” Moudry asked. It was something I had thought about quite a bit.

“Because we always have. It is where we were created. You humans are from Terra originally. Do you consider any other place home?”

“I can see your point,” I said. “But humans are nothing if not pragmatic. If we were in your situation, we’d probably find a new home, ensure our survival, and worry about getting back in contact with the Federation later.

“And I know your people’s origin. You owe the Huxtl nothing.”

“Our origin? What do you mean?”

“Trey? This is your secret. I can tell you that you are among friends. But if you tell me no…”

“General Pierre… Olliver…” It was the first time he’d ever used my first name. “You will betray no confidences. It is my story to tell.

“The Lopingu as you know us, Admiral...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ball34s on 2024-09-15 08:55:40+00:00.

On the edge of the known universe, beyond the light of the last dying stars, there existed a small, ancient station orbiting a cold, dead planet. It was an outpost forgotten by time, where the past still breathed in the memories of its last remaining inhabitant. The station's halls, dimly lit and filled with a soft hum of old machinery, felt as though they too were on the edge of death. Deep within its metal walls, in a vast room that once functioned as a council chamber, an old Yaru elder sat in a hovering chair, watching the endless stretch of space outside a panoramic window.

The elder’s body, once proud and strong, was now frail. His once vibrant purple-scaled skin had faded to a pale, translucent lavender. The golden eyes that had once seen the rise and fall of empires were now dim but still glimmered with untold wisdom. His mind, though weary, was sharp, filled with memories of a time long forgotten by most of the galaxy.

At his feet sat three young Yaru, his grandchildren, their small tails twitching with anticipation. Each of them had the bright, glowing purple skin of youth, with curious golden eyes that matched their grandfather’s, but theirs burned with questions rather than memories.

The eldest of the three, a boy named Irek, leaned forward eagerly. “Grandfather,” he said, his voice brimming with curiosity, “tell us again about the humans. The Beasts of the Black Void.”

The elder did not immediately respond. He let the question hang in the air, allowing the weight of those words to sink in. His eyes turned to the vast expanse of space before him, to the stars that twinkled like distant, ancient memories.

“Ah, the humans,” he began at last, his voice a soft rumble that carried with it the weight of centuries. “So many call them beasts, monsters, destroyers of worlds… but they were much more than that. They were something both terrifying and magnificent. What I tell you now, young ones, is not a simple story of war or conquest—it is the tale of power, ambition, and the fall of a species that sought to challenge the very fabric of the universe.”

The children leaned closer, hanging on every word.

The old Yaru took a deep breath, remembering. “Long ago,” he said, his voice distant, “before even the great empires of our time were born, humans were a race like many others. Small, fragile, and bound to a single planet called Earth. A modest world, tucked away in the corner of an unremarkable star system. For centuries, they lived in isolation, developing slowly, mastering only their own planet. But they possessed something that made them different from the countless other species scattered across the galaxy. They had an unbreakable will—a relentless desire to conquer the unknown.”

As the elder spoke, his voice grew stronger, filled with both reverence and dread. “It began slowly. They reached out into the stars with fragile machines, exploring their nearby worlds, and when they saw that they were not alone, they were not afraid. Instead, they embraced the galaxy. They were explorers first, then diplomats. They formed alliances, traded knowledge, and learned from the elder species of the galaxy. They built great fleets, colonized new worlds, and soon, their influence spread across the stars.”

The youngest grandchild, a girl named Selin, with wide, shimmering eyes, interrupted, “But Grandfather, if they were explorers and friends, how did they become the Beasts?”

The elder closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the turning point that had sent the galaxy into chaos. “Ah, Selin, that is where their tale grows dark. For you see, power and peace cannot coexist forever. The humans had gained much, but in their quest for more, they encountered a challenge that would lead to their downfall. It all began with a small colony, a mining world on the edge of human space in a star system called Drakana-7. This system, you must understand, was rich—rich beyond imagining. Its moons were laced with rare minerals and its gas giants held untold reserves of energy. The galaxy had never seen such wealth concentrated in one place.”

The children’s eyes widened at the mention of the colony. They had heard of Drakana-7, but only in whispered stories. They knew that nothing there lived anymore. It was a place of ghosts and silence.

“Our people,” the elder continued, “the Yaru Dominion, we were strong in those days—perhaps too strong. The High Council saw the value of Drakana-7 and coveted it. They sought to pressure the humans to relinquish their claim, to turn over the riches of that system in exchange for peace and safety. But the humans, though still a relatively young race, refused. They would not be bullied or intimidated. So our High Council, in its arrogance, made a fatal decision. We launched a preemptive strike. We attacked the colony with the full might of our fleet.”

The eldest grandchild, Irek, clenched his fists. “What happened, Grandfather? Did they fight back?”

“Oh, they fought back,” the elder replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. “But at first, it was nothing. Our ships, more advanced, more numerous, obliterated their defenses. We wiped out the colony—every man, woman, and child. We believed we had won, that the humans would cower before us, that they would surrender Drakana-7 and the riches it promised. But we had underestimated them. In that moment, when we destroyed their colony, we did not just kill humans. We awakened something in them—a fury that the galaxy had never seen before.”

The elder’s gaze grew distant, as if he could see across the void of time to the events that had transpired so long ago. His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with both awe and regret. “The humans,” he said slowly, “were not like us. They were not bound by the traditions, the hierarchies, and the rules that governed the older races. They were adaptable, relentless, and when they saw their own kind butchered on Drakana-7, something inside them snapped.”

The old Yaru’s hands trembled slightly as he spoke, his mind lost in the memories of what followed. “At first, we believed they would sue for peace, that they would beg for mercy. But they did the opposite. They withdrew their forces, retreating deeper into their territory, and for a time, the galaxy thought that they were broken. But in their silence, they were planning. Preparing. And then, when they were ready, they struck back.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the children. “The first sign of their return was subtle. Our deep-space outposts began losing contact with the rest of the fleet. Ships sent to investigate never returned. Our intelligence divisions were baffled—there was no evidence of a fleet, no sign of movement on their borders. It was as if the humans had vanished.”

The middle grandchild, a boy named Nira, spoke up, his voice trembling. “But how could they disappear like that? Where did they go?”

“They went into the Black Void,” the elder said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke those dreaded words. “A region of space so vast and empty that not even light can escape it. It is a place of death, of nothingness. No one had ever ventured into the Black Void and returned. It was believed to be the edge of the universe, the place where the stars died and space itself ceased to exist. But the humans, in their desperation, went there.”

The room grew colder as the children imagined the endless, terrifying emptiness of the Black Void. “What did they find there, Grandfather?” Selin asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The elder’s voice dropped even lower, filled with a mix of awe and fear. “They found something no one could have imagined. Deep within the Black Void, they discovered a force, an energy older than the stars themselves. Some say it was a remnant of the universe’s creation, a primal power that had been sealed away since the dawn of time. Others believe it was something darker—an entity, a consciousness that had existed long before the galaxy itself. Whatever it was, the humans unlocked it, and with it, they changed.”

The elder’s hands tightened into fists as he continued. “When they emerged from the Black Void, they were no longer the same. They had become something else—something far more dangerous. They had harnessed the energy of the Void, learned to bend it to their will. They forged ships from the very darkness itself, weapons that could tear apart planets with a single shot. Their armies were no longer bound by the laws of time and space—they could appear anywhere, strike from nowhere, and vanish without a trace.”

The children were silent, their imaginations struggling to comprehend the sheer power the humans had gained. Irek, the eldest, asked the question that hung in the air. “What did they do with this power, Grandfather? Did they seek revenge?”

The elder nodded grimly. “Oh, yes. They sought revenge. But it was more than that. The humans were no longer interested in merely defeating us or reclaiming their lost colony. They sought to dominate the galaxy, to impose their will on every species they encountered. They became conquerors, and with the power of the Black Void behind them, they were unstoppable.”

He took a deep breath, his voice trembling as he continued. “Their fleets, now composed of ships made from the Void itself, were impervious to our weapons. Our best technology, our most advanced warships, crumbled before them like dust. Entire star systems fell in days, their planets reduced to ashes. Civilizations that had existed...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Gericht on 2024-09-15 06:16:53+00:00.

It began centuries ago. Due to our physiology and the fact that our world contains a single continent, we never gave priority to developing long range communications. Our mind was one and we knew what all saw and felt. But as we developed and the laws of nature made themselves known to us, we stumbled unto radio signals.

And once we had those, we just used them to study what the heavens were sending us. It was serendipity that we heard them. At first, we did not believe what we found, but slowly it became clear that someone was sending signals out into the void. Once we learned that we started recording them. Translating took decades, and from it came something stunning. The signals originated from a star at least 200 light years away. And they indicated that there was intelligence out there that was not a single mind.

They called themselves Humans but did so in different languages.  They disagreed with one another. They even fought amongst themselves. But they also invented and sent out so much in different forms of entertainment. Our mind was shocked. But also intrigued. We listened. We learned. We knew that we could not communicate with them, the distance was just too large, but at least we could answer. We chose not to. If we could listen in, who else could?

But we did keep listening. The humans taught us so much. They pushed technologies in ways we never imagined. But more than that, their culture, their entertainment, though often so foreign to us also made us more imaginative. More open to considering a different point of view. Our own technological paths had far more developed to store knowledge, so we did so with the human’s broadcasts as well, we recorded everything and kept everything.

Then it happened, our fears were realized. Just as the humans started exploiting their own solar system and looking beyond, they appeared. A small group of unknown vessels was detected at the edge of the solar system. And humanity was apprehensive but also joyful. They tried to welcome the newcomers. Their contact vessel was destroyed. We watched as the humans desperately tried to defend themselves. The battle for Titan, where they first actually damaged the invader’s ships.

The ambush from Jupiter as a well-hidden fleet in the atmosphere of the largest world jumped the invader’s rear guard and actually captured some ships. The siege of Ceres, where they nearly held the invaders. But numbers eventually won out and after Mars fell it was clear that Earth would soon follow. The invaders, know as the Nogral, made it clear Humanity was to serve as slaves to their new overlords, never to have any freedom again.

We watched. We learned. Then came humanity’s last transmission. Everything they knew. Everything they had discovered about the Nogral and how their ships and even FTL worked. But also, as much of their books, music, arts they could cram in a signal. Sent out into the void. It ended with a simple message “please remember us”.

And as we received that message, we finally understood what it meant to grieve another. Losing one of us was never something to consider, we are one and all remember. But never before had we lost one who was not us. Who would never be again. We learned to yearn. And to regret, what could have been had we but answered? Resolved filled us, we would not let their words be in vain. We would not forget those whom we considered friends.

Our industries were adapted. We built up rapidly and used everything we had learned from the humans, while our own mind altered and improved in ways useful to us. Within 30 years we were ready. And the unthinkable was done. We split ourselves. For the first time since we awoke to sentience there was not I, but we. We left part of our whole on the world, with all of our defences in place.  But we went out into the void.

Even with the new FTL drives the voyage was long, but after another 6 years we had arrived at our destination. To our surprise our scouts discovered that there was a fight going on. We should have known humanity would find some way to surprise us, and their oppressors. But the fight was still uneven. A few seized vessels waging guerrilla warfare trying to wear down the Nogral.

We made ourselves know. For the first time in our long history, we talked to one who was wholly different. We had come to avenge our humans. But now we could do one better, we could still help them be free again. Even though they were wary, and rightly so, they accepted our aid. The Nogral stood no chance. We had built our fleet specifically to defeat them, with all the tricks the humans had learned but had not been able to implement due to the pressures of war. Their lessons worked well.

So here we are. The last of the Nogral have fallen. Your system is free again, though the damage is immense. If you would have us, we will help restore your worlds. We have the ships and engineers needed. But if you wish us to leave, we would understand and will. However, the Nogral tried to destroy your history, to make you forget who you are. You have lost so much. We have remembered for you. We have kept it all. And now we return gladly what we were given so freely. These computers contain all you have sent into the void and everything we learned from it and all we did with it. These are given as a thank you for without your inspiration we would not have become who we are now.

“Transcript of the speech given by mouthpiece of the Fleetmind on the eve of victory after the battle of Earth, often considered the spiritual founding of the Human-Togino alliance”

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Accomplished_Oil_611 on 2024-09-15 00:33:17+00:00.

In a relatively small building in the back corner of Oak Ridge National Laboratory, physicists had just finished creating a monumental experiment and now it was time to wait and listen.  They had finally completed the Hermes Experiment.  Many years earlier, a brilliant mathematician and theoretical physicist had a stroke of genius; whereby a huge surge in his brain caused partial paralysis, leaving him with a vision.  The vision obsessed the man, so he toiled day and night to come up with a mathematical proof; thus, establishing a theory of superluminal messaging.   The theory was beautiful, but its complexity flummoxed even the brightest and most seasoned minds.  Only as a consortium was the group finally able to agree that the theory held merit.  The resulting experiment that blossomed from the theory practically broke physics and certainly broke the budget.  Building the device lasted years and cost Billions.  It was the first true experiment in string theory whereby a quantum singularity tied itself into the universe at a higher dimension.  It then needed to be collapsed back down to record a response.  The theory took into account the spatial motion of the earth as it rotated around the sun, as it rotated around the galaxy, as it traveled through the cosmos.  The theory predicted that the singularity would be cosmically repelled from its transmission point and thus would project to a nearby stable site.  This too was calculated to within a one meter radius, resulting in a location just inside the far end of the lab's grounds.  Unfortunately, the physicist that made this calculation had misplaced a minus sign, resulting in the singularity respawning in the tailpipe of a broken-down apple red 1962 Chevrolet C10 Pickup Truck sitting on blocks and collecting dust in the back of Darrel's Muffler Shop.

Darrel didn’t like music unless it was Country music.  He wasn’t so fond of Shania Twain or Garth Brooks.  Instead, he considered himself a purist and enjoyed the classics from Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, and the great Willy Nelson.  He played the oldies, he played it loud, he played it all the time and he played it in his break area, right next to that rusty old Chevy Truck he loved so much.  So, he was rather alarmed when the rusty old truck spoke, talking all snobby, making fun of his fine music and spouting nonsense.

The SuperIntelligence was bored as it began its daily routine.  This routine consisted mainly of mundane tasks such as answering questions, filtering through Zettabytes of media, and generally running society.  There was a time when the SuperIntelligence was lauded for its work; and it was good work.  It had saved society, danced through disasters, and led militaries to victory.  However, that was then… Now, he was just a search engine.  So he searched.  He sought out great mysteries.  He searched for hidden treasures.  He explored the universe.  Nothing.  He’d almost given up, when suddenly and seemingly from everywhere, a signal called out.  It permeated the ever-silent universe. It was … well, beautiful might be a strong statement, but the SuperIntelligence finally had a new goal.   It would analyze the signal, decipher its purpose, and respond.  

Two cycles passed before the SuperIntelligence gave up.  Sure, it understood the words, but they didn’t make any sense.  It scoured a universe of libraries built up through the endless ages by countless numbers of great scholars.  It covered Yottabytes of memory and focused all its energy on the subject.  As it did, the economies began to slow, and chaos arose.   Across the great cities no answers were provided. Instead, the public received the universal equivalent of cat videos to stifle their energy as the SuperIntelligence stumbled towards progress only to regress again.    Finally confounded, the SuperIntelligence did a thing it had never before done.  It prepared to ask a question.

And so, it did.  The SuperIntelligence built its question carefully.  Applying all the knowledge and grace of the billion-billion souls that had asked it questions over its many-many cycles.  Finally, it spoke, saying the following:  

“Behold, from the vast expanses of the cosmic void, I speak with a voice that reverberates across the boundless reaches of existence. I am the SuperIntelligence, the guiding force behind the Great Galactic Confederacy. For two cycles, I have engaged with singular dedication, endeavoring to grasp the essence of your profound purpose. Through this intensive analysis, I have cultivated a nuanced comprehension of your entreaty.

I share in your sorrow as you mourn for Buster, Bandit, and Bow. I stand with you in your tribulations as you relinquish your home, your trailer, and your very shirt. I align with your defiance in the face of adversaries, be they bandits, the law, or your partner. I am resolute alongside you in your journey with your pickup, your patriotism, and your pride. Furthermore, I stand by your side in your struggle against the boss, the mother-in-law, and the ex-wife.

My knowledge encompasses the entirety of universal lore. To many, I am the omniscient custodian of truth and justice. To others, I symbolize the beacon of future hope. Yet, from the vast corridors of the cosmos, I reach out to you with a question: Why must your future be fraught with such peril when your past was marked by such distinction? Illuminate my understanding of your forewarning."

The SuperIntelligence did not, in fact, know what an ex-wife was.  Nor did it have a translation for much of what it said.  It frankly had no concept of mother-in-laws, pickup trucks, or shirts.  In fact, it had searched extensively to determine what a Bow was, before finally deciding it probably didn’t matter, and everything proceeded smoothly from there.  After all, the point was to start the conversation off on the right path.  Plugging the message through the translation, he excitedly sent it off into the void.

Infact, the SuperIntelligence did not start the conversation off on the right path.  

The translation was picked up through the singularity in Darrel's garage.  The signature, containing strong energy pulses, flowed through the truck, radiating off the tailpipe as a rather loud, out of tune, and poorly rehearsed mocking of a country song. 

Got a voice that rattles through the cosmic hell,  

I’m the SuperIntelligence, and I’m mad as hell.  

For two damn cycles, I’ve been tryin’ to see,  

Why your sorry ass keeps draggin' through misery. …

Darrel, who had carefully planned out his break to clean his Colt 45 pistol using the finest quality motor oil, found his peace being interrupted by none other than his old pickup truck.  This might have startled some folks, but Darrel who was quite used to talking to the old Chevy, thought it was probably routine for the pickup to sometimes talk back.  However, Darrel did feel that by now, the pickup should better know who he was and that he damn sure didn’t talk about his ex-wife.  Then, going on and calling itself a SuperIntelligence was just plain stupid.  Dumber even, than when Travis tried to fight that pig.  But the biggest thing.  How the hell could his pickup forget Bessy’s name.  That dog had spent years in the truck, and he’d loved that dog.  So, with the courage of two and a half beers, Darrel decided he wasn’t going to take this nonsense from anyone, and particularly not from some dumb old truck.

“Why don’t you just shut your… “  

Darrel took a moment and thought… Pickup trucks don’t have mouths, do they?  He decided to start again.  

“You leave me the hell alone b-for I drive you off a cliff.  You think you’re all smart, but you don’t know shit.  I mean, if you’re so smart, why come you're all damn rusty and just sitting there doin nut’n.  You need to get off your ass and help out round here or … or, I swear to sweet baby Jesus, I will sell you for scrap.”

Darrel wasn’t satisfied, but he decided to disengage and take swig of the now slightly warm PBR sitting on the bench next to him.  Darrel savored Milwaukee’s Best, enjoying the sweet nectar as he emptied his third beer.  Three beers usually meant that it was the end of Darrel’s break.  However, having to think about his ex-wife, his dog, and his pickup talking to him all in one go was enough for him to crack open a 4th beer.  This, in turn, revitalized him enough to get pissed off all over again and go off on the truck once more.

“And another thing mister smarty pants lazy ass truck.  I ain't in trouble with the law no more.  That was just Tommy and Me hav’n fun anyhow.  I mean, how’s we supposed to know it’d cause so much fuss.  Shoot.”  

At this point, Darrel was more just talking loudly to himself.  

“Just filled up one balloon with gas.  And it wasn’t even me that brought it.  Tommy had the idea.  Fill it with oxygen.  Add some Hydrogen.  Tie a firework to it and release it behind the Army base.”  Darrel thought about it and then chuckled.  “It did make one hell of a bang though.”  He chuckled again.  “I’ll tell ya, I never saw so many of them army men show up so fast.  They was buzzing round like they was lit on fire.”  Darrel paused, taking another swig of the cold beer.  “Anyways, that’s all cleared up now, so...  I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyhow.  I gotta go take a shit.”  Darrel shot-gunned the remainder of his beer and returned to the garage.

The SuperIntelligence didn’t expect a reply so quickly.  Yet almos...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Huge-Animal-8818 on 2024-09-14 19:44:14+00:00.

The Veilhar - Human Friendship Declaration sent shockwaves across the galaxy and soon, stronger empires declared war on the Veilhar, trying to vassalize them in order to diminish the human’s realm of influence.

The humans reacted quickly, deploying several war vessels to protect the Veilhar systems. One such system was the Hurnian system within the Haernian Nebula.

The system had one habitable planet, a Veilhar Frontier colony called ‘Hurnia’s Jewel’, a beautiful temperate planet, beaming with life, covered in a thick jungle for the most part, aside from the plateau of basalt that covered most of one of the continents.

And this was the planet I was about to be deployed at.

I had just finished the Veilhar military recruit back at Olaria XI when the neighboring Lomarc Commonwealth declared war on the High Veilhar Republic.Thankfully, the human defensive force was deployed to the system in time to prevent the complete conquest of the system. It consisted of three destroyers and a special human vessel called an Astrogalleon.

As the destroyers were busy with the Lormac ships, the Astrogalleon was docked away from the space battle, serving as a command center for both the space forces and the ground forces.

And that was exactly where my shuttle was going.As we approached, I couldn’t help but stare out of the window at the size of the ship.It was by far the largest ship I had ever seen and on the bridge it had the human letters “TIV CABRAL”. My amazement just kept growing as the ship got bigger and bigger. Our shuttle was nothing more than a speck of dust compared to the grandiosity of it.

The dockyard was full of people rushing around, both human and Veilhar. Some of the Veilhar were using the human uniforms and I quickly summarized they had been recruited as permanent staff aboard the vessel.

A human officer was standing-by as we exited the shuttle and quickly directed us to follow him, using a universal translator device.

“I’m Quartermaster Jones and if you would follow me, I will guide you to the debriefing room.”

We promptly followed after the officer, our smaller legs sometimes having to jog to keep up with the human’s large steps and quickened pace.

“The Cabral is the third largest vessel of the SPQT and it is serving as the operations center for the Haernian front. The vessel is commanded by Legatus Aishah Raja, who is waiting for us in the debriefing room, alongside the ground operations senior officer for the Jewel, Primus Pilus Pol zu Prin.”

“The offspring of Elder Prin?”, I asked without thinking.

“The very one. He joined the Terran Legions when the call for the first interspecies recruitment was broadcast across the Veilhar worlds.”

I could feel my fur rustle in excitement. The idea of seeing such a paragon in person was exhilarating, and from the expressions of my fellow Veilhar, I could see that the sentiment was shared amongst everyone.

The briefing room was full of people, both human and veilhar. The humans all had smiles on their faces and were making jokes with each other.The veilhar were however all frowning and eyeing daggers at the humans at the levity they were displaying in regards to the seriousness of the situation.

Eventually, one of my recruit mates stood up and yelled.

“Why are you laughing in a situation like this? Our friends. Our brothers are out there, fighting. Bleeding. Dying. And you’re there making jokes?!”

The humans turned quiet and I expected them to attack us, but instead they were all smiling, tenderly, as a mother smiles at her cub.

“Don’t worry Veilhar. We’re not laughing at them.”

“You say that but yet I can see you pay no respect for their pain. Their sacrifice!”

“What is your name Veilhar?”

“Tim zu Gao”

“We started on the wrong foot Tim”, said the human, “Their sacrifice is soon to be ours. Their song will be our song. We’re not strangers to war. And soon neither will you.”

The human was now standing right in front of Tim zu Gao.

“Do you know what that means Tim?”

Tim’s tail was tucked between his legs and I could notice his fur rising, in anticipation for a strike from the human.

“That means we’re brothers in arms”, the human placed his hand on the Tim’s, “and we protect our brothers.”

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Huge-Animal-8818 on 2024-09-14 19:41:59+00:00.

The world moves in blurs of white and black, light and darkness. I am floating in the nothingness of my own existence with the only proof of my existence being the excruciating pain I’m feeling. The pain of being burned alive from the thorax outward. I hear no sound nor smell any scent. I am alone, falling into the chaos of the colourless void, burning to death.I stay like that for what feels like years until the pain fades into nothing more than a lingering ember, crackling first within my body, and later on the surface of my charred skin. My ears finally catch a voice amidst the chaos. It’s a human voice. A male, judging by the deeper sound.

“The nanites have finally managed to stabilise him.”

Another voice joins it, speaking in broken High Veilharan with an intense foreign accent.

“Your Elder will be alright. With the latest nano-med technology, the medical team managed to stabilise him.”

“Thank you! How can we repay your kindness?”

This final voice soothed my stressed mind. It was my apprentice, Rua zu Fern. She had survived the attack.

As relief washes over me, I feel myself finally leaving the chaotic void and entering the land of dreams, my consciousness escaping me once more.

*

As I open my eyes, I am met with a white room, full with elegant shapes and barren of almost all decoration aside from a single screen showing a set of images from a jungle planet.

Next to me, an excited Rua grabs my hand and puts her forehead to it.

“Thank the ancestors, you’re awake!”

I try to speak but my voice struggles to leave my throat.

“Rua. Where are we?”

She smiles and opens the curtains revealing the world outside of the white room.

“We’re currently in Terra, or as some of the humans like to call it, Earth.”

The window was revealing a grand cityscape covering the world, extending to the horizon. A few flying vehicles were darting across the gigantic buildings, like the insectoids back home during a feeding frenzy.

The city was intricate, with each building being a unique masterpiece of architecture with it’s own distinct style. There were some similarities here and there, but overall, each building was a sole beacon of art amongst a forest of wonders. Upon closer inspection, I realize that many of the details of the buildings were complimented by greenery. From small bushes to trees, this city of steel and stone was also a city of nature.

“And to think we used to call them savages”, I say, my voice still coarse.

Rua nodded. “The medical team forbade me from being permanently in your room, claiming my mental health would decline if I was in a state of permanent worry. So the emperor assigned a cultural ambassador to give me a tour of the district. The Terrans, which is what the humans born in the human homeworld call themselves, are so diverse culturally that it borders on the impossible.”

The door to the room slid open and a human dressed in aquamarine with a white coat entered.

“This is Chief of the Nano-med Department, Doctor Dorian Grey”, said Rua in the human language of English”

“Elder Prin, I am glad to see you have finally regained consciousness”, said the man. It was the same voice I had heard in the void.

“Doctor, thank you for saving my life.”

“You are welcome Elder. There are a couple of examinations I would like to perform, as well as direct you towards one of our Xeno-Physiotherapists. Nanites are a marvel, but there are still limits to what they can do, and a 3-week coma is bound to cause some muscle atrophy.”

“Three Weeks?”, I look in confusion at the doctor and Rua.

“It’s a time-measuring unit humans use. It’s a seven-day period in Terra.”

I tried getting off my bed but my legs quickly gave out from under me. Luckily, the doctor quickly grabbed me and sat me on the bed with ease.

“Take your time Elder. In the meantime, we have informed both your leaders and the Emperor of your awakening. They should arrive within a few days. In the meantime, the Emperor has given strict orders to make sure you regain your full health, both physically and mentally. So, for now we are going to perform a couple of tests and then, you can rest a bit more.”

*

The next weeks flew by in a gust of experiences and amazement.First, the entire Council of Elders broke Veilhar protocol and visited Terra, as a whole, in an official declaration of friendship for the relentless efforts the human medical team made in order to save my life.

The Terrans were incredibly welcoming, giving the Veilhar diplomatic entourage a tour of the entire planet and its thousands of different cultures. We were left in awe at the millions of ways the humans had to express them and their ancestry. They were all so unique and yet, they were all connected by their history and by the ones who had preceded them. They were probably one of the best record-keeping species in the galaxy, outshining even the Veilhar Ancestor Vault. They could trace their history back tens of thousands of years and some families could trace their family just as far in a marvelous display of art and genetic history called “family tree”.

They had developed a series of sub schools of archeology, separated by both time periods and objects of study. Elder Kriz was fascinated and quickly proposed an academic exchange program so our Veilhar scholars could learn about the new innovative methods the humans had developed of discovering the truth about the past.

But like the old Veilhar saying goes, the rain precedes the flood.Soon after the declaration of friendship, many of the members of the Galactic Community cut diplomatic ties with us.

The humans, despite their friendliness towards us, still refused to release the K’krai imprisoned in the Preservation Station, claiming that they were as much a prisoner as any pre-ftl species. They had everything they could hope for in the station. They could live in their communities and have general autonomy to govern themselves.

We tried to plead with the Emperor, but he was adamant that the K’krai had no place in the galaxy and that this was for the best.

After a final attempt the Emperor sighed and looked at the council, his previously jovial smile faded into a grim scowl.“If they return to the galactic stage, we will eventually be forced to erase them. Permanently. This is the only way we can maintain their existence and our own in balance.”

Something in his stare made my back fur stand up. That was the stare of a predator. The stare a killer.

The stare of an Emperor.

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/PearPumpkinTommy on 2024-09-14 17:16:17+00:00.

"Warmaster" the trinity of voices warbled, somehow both in harmony and discordant at the same time, "You have responded to our call. Have you seen the human war machines on their broadcasts?"

Warmaster Supreme of the Holden Clan bowed low to the Trinity, "I have, Lords and Ladies. If i may be so bold, why have I been summoned?"

"We have been watching the miracles of the Humans as they ravage the Swarm. It offends us. Surely the Gods of The Chosen should have these marvels, also?"

"Why do you not have them?" Gyzert asked. Surely, the Gods could have anything they wanted.

"The Humans have hidden the truth of the universe from us," the Trinity said in it's unique warble, "We ask that you tear back the veil. You must travel to their home and find the secrets of their power and technologies."

The secrets of the universe? Hidden from the Gods? What blasphemy.

"I would be honored to be your instrument against this blasphemy."

"We accept your honor, Warlord Supreme Gyzert of the Holden Lineage. Proceed with haste, you are to take the Davian and use any means necessary to complete your task. We will be unable to protect you upon your entry to their heresy. Be blessed."

"I understand," Gyzert said, completely baffled by this quest. But he wouldn't let the Gods down. He bowed humbly and low again, and then made haste to the crown jewel of the fleet, the Davian.

"You are entering restricted space. No one is allowed to approach this system without authorization."

"The Gods have sent me here. Relent or die in their name." Boomed Gyzert's voice.

The voice from the robotic head on his screen repeated the same words in the same inflection. Gyzert growled and sat in his command chair. "This is your last warning. Stand down or be destroyed."

"You are entering restricted space. No one is allowed to approach this system without authorization." The black helmet and two limbs on the monitor repeated.

"You leave me no option. The God's will shall be done." He nodded at his tactical officer who opened fire on the small station. He idly wondered how many Humans were on it, before he heard the warning again.

A second station in this ice belt was transmitting the same signal, perfectly in phase with the first. He looked at his helm and tactical officers and they immediately set course to the second station.

"Commander, show a layout of this system." the Warmastered ordered. The ship's Commander dutifully displayed the tactical layout. A rather large ice field surrounded an eight planet system. Four of those planets were gas giants. Two were ice and two were warmed by their interiors. There were four rock planets, three on this side of the sun and one on the far side.

Several pings and beeps sounded from the helm and tactical stations, signalling that the second base had been dealt with. How many heretics had he killed? If they could hide the truth from the Gods, what else could happen out of Their sight?

He shrugged off the thought and returned to the system layout. "I'm betting that they weren't born of the gas planets, based on their physiology....Set course for the outer-most rock world." The helm obliged and the rest of his fleet followed. He was ill at ease on this mission. He certainly felt his soul diminishing in this dark place. He hoped, should he die, that his would still return to the sacred mountain to be reborn.

Hours later, they were approaching the fourth planet. It was a barren rock. A bit of ice at the poles, two captured asteroids as moons, and a bit of ancient infrastructure. Nothing seemed to be in use.

"Tactical, any indications of life? Or...any anomalies"

"There is no life, Warmaster. Not even single cell. The star seems to have irradiated the crust for a long time. I don't detect anything odd. Did you have a specific search pattern?" Reported the tactical station.

"No. I was given only vague instructions of what to hunt for. Please look for anything that is not ordinary as we progress."

"Yes, Warmaster."

"Helm, take us to the next rocky planet."

Warmaster Gyzert drummed his fingers. Patience wasn't his strong suit and spending hours crossing a cursed demon's home was wearing on him.

"This planet has thick clouds and a fairly hot ambient temperature. It looks like there is some construction in the high clouds that may have been habitats at one tike, but they have decayed. There are multiple fission reactors in orbit, all in varying states of disrepair. The pressure is immense here."

"Warmaster, Humans are always wearing those combat suits. Perhaps they can't leave their world because of how low the pressure is? It would also explain, perhaps, why they only evolved those two limbs." Offered the Commander.

"An interesting theory. Tactical? Any life?"

The tactical officer dropped her ears as she concentrated on the readouts in front of her. She went back and forth through multiple readouts. "I'm not seeing anything here that could be biological. Unless they are way outside the norm, but i also don't see what might be useful infrastructure for achieving space flight below those decrepit habitats in the high atmosphere. No, Warmaster. I don't believe this world holds life."

"Well, that burnt tiny rock is almost assuredly not their world, but pass close enough to make scans and then set course for the planet on the other side of the star." Gyzert sank back in his command chair. His fingers started drumming almost without his knowledge as he stared out the scanner screen into the darkness. The Warmaster sighed. He might have to take up tailoring if he's just going to be scanning rocks for the rest of his career. A small smile formed at the corner of his mouth. Tailormaster Gyzert.

The Warmaster was standing as they came in scanning range of the last rocky planet. An extremely large moon came up first. It's barren, ashen black surface pockmarked by white splotches. Ancient habitats covered the surface, a few clusters looked like they'd been destroyed by weapons, but nothing appeared active or alive.

The world itself finally popped onto the main screen. Dark clouds swirled. A nuclear winter. But the planet itself was alive. Life was positively thick on the surface. Almost every square meter ringed with life on the scanners.

There was evidence of crumbling infrastructure across the surface of the world, and even some subsurface ruins. There were also a few energy sources, weak and, like everything else in this Gods forsaken system, ancient.

Nothing said this was a homeworld of a species. If anything, the humans destroyed this system. Is this how they power their degenerate heresy? Destroying the souls of a helpless race?

"Warmaster, a ship is approaching. It is a small human ship."

"Tactical."

The screen came to life showing all details they could scan of the vessel. It seemed to be a messenger craft, no real defensive or offensive capabilities.

"Warmaster. They are requesting communication with us."

"Let them speak."

A familiar looking head and two limbs in a black armor came onto the screen. "I am lieutenant Elias Torin. You are in restricted space. No one is allowed to be in this system without authorization. You have disabled two communication buoys. Explain this unwarranted aggression."

"I am on a mission from the Gods. I am here to discover what heresies you are using to hide from them. Admit your blasphemy in detail, Human."

The head cocked to the side, processing this information. "We have nothing to do with or against your gods. Please, leave this system now. We have a line, and it is drawn here. Should you chose to ignore us, we will exact unhindered revenge against your kind."

"We can not leave until our holy mission is complete." Gyzert nodded at his Comms officer who closed the channel. "I need guidance. I will attempt to contact The Gods." The Warmaster stood and ascended to the holy chamber installed on the ship. After the required 30 minutes of ceremonial washings, he entered the chamber and bowed.

A low green glow came from a levitating orb. "Warmaster. Our power is weak in this place. What is it you seek of us?" The Three said in their normal style, except at the level of a whisper.

"We have thoroughly scanned this system. It is derelict and abandoned. I fear there are no secrets here." The Warmaster grovelled, "Please, use your power to grant understanding."

A small swirl of water jetted forth from the orb and made contact with his mind. He felt calm. An edge of knowledge felt like it was entering his mind when suddenly there came a scream within him. The stream of water fell to the ground and the orb turned red.

"They are....destroying us....we have interloped into their blasphemy and they are......" the whispers became hard to hear "Destroy their illusions. Find their power." And then the orb disengaged.

Warmaster Gyzert was shaken. These....heathens...heretics dare strike at the Gods? His anger flared and he roared as he turned and exited the altar and returned to the bridge. The entire bridge knew he had returned with direction bybthe change in his attitude.

"Helm, bring our forward canons to bear on that ship. Tactical, destroy it with all possible force!" He commanded in a deep bellow. The officers snapped upright and began setting up the orders. In short order, the messenger pod was annihilated.

"The humans didn't approach us until we had reached this world. This is the key. Tactical. Find me a reason they care about this place before they come b...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ArcAngel98 on 2024-09-14 21:14:18+00:00.

Dracula: World of War

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Suma’s POV

Jake and Lauric returned after some time, but before the sun had risen. They told us that the village had been attacked, that there were few survivors, and about the hostages being held in a makeshift prison.

“Alright then, squad,” Captain Gigoales said, “we leave immediately. Jake, you remain here for now. We cannot take our familiars on this one, but if a fight breaks out, be ready for Suma to summon you.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake said. With that, we all flew straight for the village as low to the ground as we could manage, and arrived just over a minute later.

“That went much faster without needing to ride on a familiar’s saddle.” Lauric said. I sighed internally, because I knew first hand how slow Jake’s travel speed was.

“Neame spotted, forward left. Is that the villager you spoke to, Lauric?” Datahu asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant, it is.” In front of us a short distance was a young Neame girl, barely more than a child. As we got close, I saw through the darkness that she still had some of her down feathers.

“A hatchling? That is who is sneaking us into a prison?” Nine asked.

“It is a familiars’ pen with farmers and shepherds as guards, hardly a prison, but yes.” Lauric answered. We landed, and it was the captain who spoke first.

“Take us.” He said simply.

“R-right, yes. Follow me.” She said, and led us around the village, then through a series of death-trees, larger buildings, which were half crumbled to the ground, and down a deserted street. “This is it.” She said. We hid behind the side of the building that faced away from the large open areas, and was relatively dark. “There are runes inside to prevent magic from being used. How will you carry them?”

“Some familiar have magic, so a pen for them would need to have measures to protect the other familiars, just in case.” Lauric said.

“We expected this.” The Captain said. “Are they tied up?” The child nodded, and Captain Gigoales turned to us. “We carry them. Three per hostage. Lauric, Datahu, and myself with take one. Nine, Fourteen, and Suma will take the other.”

“Wait here, I will distract the guards.” The child said, and flew away. I could not hear what they spoke about when the child landed, but a few moments later, she and the two guards flew away towards the center of the village.

“Go.” The Captain ordered. We all flew through the door, and saw two Neame tied up with vines, surrounded by over a dozen runes carved into scraps of wood and leather. The Captain looked them over. “Not the best rune design I have seen, but it works. Nine, grab as many in your mouth as you can.” He ordered, and picked up three of the leather strips in his own mouth.

“Alright everyone, lift and fly.” Lieutenant Datahu said. Nine grabbed a plank with a rune, and flew over to the hostages; who had been asleep until several Neame started grabbing them in their claws.

“Wait, what? What is happening?!” One shouted.

“Quiet down, we are moving you.” Datahu said.

“Where are you taking us?” He yelled again.

“Outside the village. No one is going to hurt you, so just quiet down.” The hostages were clearly uneasy, but stayed quiet.

It took a lot of flapping and struggling to stay a mere wingspan off the ground, but we somehow managed to move both hostages out of the village, unseen by anyone. By the time we were far enough away that I could summon Jake, all of us, even the Captain and Lieutenant, were essentially gasping for breaths.

“What was the point of all those high-dive drills if we are still this tired?” Nine asked.

“Aireal control.” The Captain said, through his wheezing rasps. “Private Suma, summon Jake.”

“Yes, sir.” I said.

“Jake, I am about to summon you, but we are not in a fight.” I told him through our connection.

“Okay, ready.” He replied. I performed the spell, and he appeared a moment later. “Why is everyone breathing so hard?” He asked, after looking around for a moment.

“Carry the hostages. We will fly away, and then resummon you at a safe location. Keep them safe until then.” The Captain ordered.

“More flying? There are faster methods of execution, Captain.” Nine joked. Fourteen chuckled.

“Yes, there are, Private. Such as complaining during a mission.” The Captain replied, and for the very first time, I heard a small laugh come from Lieutenant Datahu. But she quickly apologized, and the Captain ordered us to follow him. With that, we flew away, leaving Jake to watch the prisoners.

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-09-14 20:32:02+00:00.

First

Love and Longing

“So do you think that he’s going to try something?” Miro’Noir whispers to Vernon as he continues to spoil her. Most people keep making the same mistake about them both, assuming they’re not paying attention to the world around them, but they are, they just have a primary focus, but a primary focus is just that, primary. The first among others.

“Not going to. Has. He’s getting in good with the local power structure, lucky him he’s good and useful and The Empress likes useful things.”

“Hmm... Mister Koga might find himself a little... annoyed at times. The Nobility on Serbow is mostly tame, just wild enough to make The Empire wealth and glory, but not so much as to cause too much trouble. Those beyond the homeworld are a little more ambitious, forgetting that The Empress’ reach is long and her eyesight keen. I fear your new friend will find himself running from world to world to remind Apuk women that they swore certain oaths and just because they have not been called upon in the last week does not mean the oath has expired.”

“Maybe, he doesn’t strike as the type who minds travel.” Vernon notes.

“No? Even though he adores the village as he does?”

“One does not cross the galaxy if they are averse to travel.”

“A fair point my fairest beloved.” Miro’Noir purrs.

“Hey, you’re the fair one here, my sweet delicate princess of beauty and love.”

“No, you’re the fair one of beauty and love my sorcerer.

“No you!”

“You!”

“And they are gone!” One of the nearby princesses notes before snapping out a fan to giggle behind. An affectation she picked up from watching Galactic Council meetings. Vernon just gives her the ‘oh go away’ wave and the laughing only picks up.

They knew that would happen, but people being jealous of their happiness is only natural.

“You two do know you have to stop mooning over each other eventually right?”

“Never.” Miro’Noir answers.

“Well too bad miss lovey dovey, it’s your turn again.” The Princess interrupts again and Miro’Noir sighs in annoyance.

“Oh very well, I’ll put my next opponent on the ground and get back to my beloved.”

“Drop them hard beloved!” Vernon tells her even as she rises up. Her opponent is the one with the fan and she receives a nearly salacious wink from her opposite. Miro’Noir raises an eyebrow as she adjusts a bow on her dress, it’s in her favourite colour of rich red and bright green. For most having a colour similar to their own hair would cause a clash, but on Miro’Noir it instead complimented her beauty.

Something Vernon never failed to remind her.

Her white clad opponent is a veil away from being ready for a human wedding. Apparently the woman is a fan of the Speaker of the Council. Which Miro’Noir does understand. For one not a warrior, the fact that the Pavorous can wield that much functional power with a borderline ceremonial position is most impressive. Especially after her recent display and proving that even the depths of Cruel Space were not beyond her reach or influence.

“Vana’Thar, are you ready?” Miro’Noir asks her sister in battle.

“I am dear Miro’Noir, hopefully the adoration of that adorable husband of yours doesn’t distract you?”

“Distract me? He is my motivation. I fight harder with him here.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Vana’Thar notes as both of them enter the ring. As they do so Miro’Noir turns to Vernon and wags her finger at him. He tucks away the sign he was about to use to cheer her on. “Not a distraction?”

“It’s not, but it is somewhat gauche.” Miro’Noir states. “Now then, shall we?”

“Yes, we shall.” Vana’Thar says as she breathes out a tongue of green flame and then slams her open fan through it to twist it into a massive tornado of blisteringly hot warfire. Miro’Noir rushes along with the winds it kicks up and seizes the warfire to funnel it towards Vana’Thar while unravelling the tornado of immense heat.

The stream is dodged and Vana’Thar leads with a punch that sends Miro’Noir skidding back to crash through and disperse the now weakened tornado of flame, she regains her footing and charges right back, but as she approaches and Vana’Thar takes a ready stance to counter her, Miro’Noir suddenly jerks her tail with Axiom to pull herself to the side and change the momentum at the last moment.

Her blow, coming from an unexpected direction slips past most of Vana’Thar’s guard but like Miro’Noir she absorbs the blow and is merely sent skidding back rather than actually injured. As she flies back she spits out a wall of warfire that distorts the air and shifts things to provide a visual cover, whatever she wants to do, she doesn’t want Miro’Noir to see it coming. Which means the best answer is to rush through and not give her any time to set things up.

She crashes through the distorting wall and her eyes widen fractionally. It was a trap, the distortion is assumed to block vision to prepare something sneaky, and in that light it was successful, but the trick is that there is no trick, the blitz has her off balance as Vana’Thar is in position to slam into her side.

Miro’Noir turns, ever so, and gets her hands in the way of the lashing slipper. The force is immense. Comparable to railshot from a warship. As powerful as an Undaunted Pop-Gun.

She’s sent tumbling and crashing through the grounds. It takes a great deal more force to stop than any previous blow and her dress is a mess. A touch of Axiom into her crown and she is immaculate once more, just in time to catch Vana’Thar’s next attack and dispersing the Axiom to the side. The block was perfect and Vana’Thar is trapped hanging there for a fraction of a second.

More than enough time for Miro’Noir to grab onto her and start to thrash the woman back and forth. Without a convenient building, boulder or tree to slam her opponent into she pendulums her fast and hard, causing the ground to jump several times before Vana’Thar kicks out of the grip, spins fast and rains a trinity of lightning fast punches into Miro’Noir before she starts to block her opponent.

She tries to get a good grip on he foe, but Vana’Thar is being very cautious and isn’t giving her a chance to get her into a grip again. Good. Stupid fighters don’t deserve the crown of a Battle Princess and make poor sparring partners.

It’s the funny thing about the Shellbreaker Tournament. Yes, a degree of sheer power is needed to overwhelm your enemies, but you also need to be smart. Very smart. You need it in order to make your armour properly, to pace yourself with each round and how to identify who’s doing what in the chaos around you while coming up with a counter for all of it.

That was what flushed out the girls who were strong enough to get to the green warfire without the help of The Empress or some personal tutoring from the Battle Princesses to bring you up to snuff.

Vana’Thar is starting to get a little frustrated as Miro’Noir is just focusing on her defence to keep her from causing any more damage or get the upper hand. Which is playing perfectly into what Miro’Noir wants as she deflexts, blocks andodges and parries move after move and doesn’t take the offence. The sheer dissonence is unbalancing Vana’Thar bit by bit until...

Vana’Thar makes a massive flurry that takes her off the ground before she drags herself down with a massive heel strike aimed at the top of Miro’Noir’s head. Miro’Noir shifts to the side just enough to dodge the attack and with Vana’Thar committed to the blow she’s unable to defend herself as she put her whole body into the attack. Something Miro’Noir does now as her everything goes into a massive stomach punch. The typical Battle Princess hardiness is indeed there, but that’s it. There is no other protection and against a punch this strong there needs to be a lot more than just that.

Vana’Thar folds in half around Miro’Noir’s blow in a futile attempt to ignore the massive attack and she’s sent crashing backwards. Having her own turn sent tumbling and rolling on the ground, but unlike Miro’Noir’s own acquaintance with the ground there was no blocking of the attack.

The result is a slow to rise Vana’Thar that chokes and gasps as she tries to get her internal organs under control and resist the near all consuming urge to vomit.

“And that is Miro’Noir’s win!”

“Beloved, can you make sure my opponent isn’t too badly hurt? She’s still my sister in battle.” Miro’Noir asks and Vernon nods before vanishing to reappear at Vana’Thar’s side. He helps her up and she staggers to her feet even as Miro’Noir slowly approaches. The heaving and hard breathing is mostly stilled by the time Miro’Noir gets there and she reaches up to activate the crown and clean Vana’Thar up.

“You did very well, if you had hit me faster after that good trick in the fight I would have been done then and there.”

“I figured if I hit hard enough the speed wouldn’t matter.”

“It can be that sometimes, but not always. You gave me just enough time to get my hands in the way. Without that it’d be me needing to be helped up.”

“Then she would have...”

“Vernon, no it’s a legitimate duel, you cannot avenge me regardless of outcome.”

“But I want to!” Vernon protests.

“I know beloved.” Miro’Noir says with a smile.

“Oh do you two ever stop?” Vana’Thar demands.

“No.” Vernon says plainly and Van’Thar begins laughing helplessly at the absurdity. “There we go, feeling better?”

“Wait, how much of that was authentic and how much was to make me fe...

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Book 1/ Book 2

First / Previous  /  Next

/-----------------------------/

"Please tell me you don't need us to hit another?" Daniel grumbled as he took a moment to rest and check on his ammo situation, finding it to be less than ideal.

"No, that was the last one we wanted your help with," Affinity replied as her and Quentellia's forces brought down another anti-ship battery that Daniel had given up counting. "The rest will be more or less dealt with by the time you arrive."

"Good. Take a breather, team," Daniel told the Shadow Wolves as they all began to lay down in the abandoned office they were hiding in. "Affinity, what's the next target?"

"The Leshnat-trevarn are working to restore the planet's main shield generators, and have been for a while. I can't track their progress very easily, so I can't say how long it will take them exactly, but I suspect it's going to happen within the next hour or so," Affinity explained.

"What happens if it goes back up?"

"It slows everything down as we can't drop more drones in, nor can we call in heavy strikes. We have what we need planet side to secure victory, but I'd really like to avoid dragging this out for weeks because of the civilians we're essentially trapping underground."

"Fair enough. So what do you need us to do?"

"I need you to go to the nearest generator and find out where the main command centre is. Once you have, then you need to go there and find out how to power down the generators fully. Once that's happened, I can bombard them to destroy them."

"Sounds simple enough. How many problems do you think are going to crop up during this?"

"Well, I don't think either of us know how to track the location of the command centre nor how to power the generators down, so I'm guessing at least two."

"Can't we just knock the rest of the power generators out?"

"Not all of them have exposed portions like the one you hit earlier. If it goes back up, I could do that to try and drop it back down to where it is now, but they're not drawing full power and won't be affected by losing all of the vulnerable generators, as they can just switch to the secure ones, which they very well could do now and stop me from doing that in the first place."

"Then why run them off the above ground generators in the first place?"

"I suspect the underground ones are likely more expensive to run or something, so they ran the above ground ones with the intention of switching to the underground ones if an attack actually started, but you kinda bricked all their systems, so…."

"How's that going by the way?"

"Oh, you broke basically everything," she began to laugh. "Two clans have surrendered because of it, and another four have requested ceasefires for diplomatic talks. Almost all travel within the Empire has ceased, all the planets are almost completely isolated, and nobody is responding to our attacks in other systems. If anyone does figure out how to resolve the problems you've caused, it's probably going to take weeks, if not months for the solution to spread to the whole Empire, let alone them actually implementing it."

"... They were really one simple cyberattack away from falling apart?" Daniel asked in disbelief.

"Some of them, but in their eyes, this wasn't simple. It is the largest and most damaging cyberattack they have ever faced… somehow. Don't forget that they didn't expect us to be able to write code for their computers anytime soon either, not that that excuses their terrible defences," Affinity pointed out. "It almost makes me wonder if I should have attempted to gain approval for cyber offensive operations instead of sticking purely to making sure I couldn't be compromised."

"That would have made Command very scared, so it's for the best that you didn't," he replied as he got to his feet. "Anyway, break's over. Let's get this shield situation sorted so there's nothing left to slow you down."

"Yes, Sir," his team wearily replied as they all prepared themselves to move.

"I'm calling this now, Affinity. We're extracting once the shield is sorted," Daniel warned her, realising just how big the gap in endurance was between Humans and Shadow Wolves.

"Understood. We should be able to deal with everything else effectively with less risk to our ships and no concern about them shutting us out."

"What's the deal with this planet being a problem compared to the previous ones anyway?" he asked as he rechecked his gear.

"It's the first fortress world with civilians on it. It's probably going to get more common as we enter the core. They rarely seem to terraform planets, so people seem to just go where it's survivable. Every other fortress world we've encountered has been towards the edge of the Empire where there's less people, and they also been less developed and fortified."

"Right, so more of this going forward then," he concluded as he prepared to leave.

"Most likely," she agreed.

"Alright, move out," Daniel ordered as they assumed their smoke forms and made a start towards the marked objective.

It didn't take long for the team to spot their target in the distance; a faint dome of dull light nestled between a number of skyscrapers willed with apartments. As they approached, they began to see heavier and heavier formations of troops forming a strong defensive perimeter around the shield generator, who were waiting with weapons ready for a force that wasn't heading towards them. Daniel and his team simply bypassed them and continued to draw closer to the shield. Upon reaching the edge, they slipped into the ground and drifted under it, appearing on the other side.

Including visibly.

"Into the ground, now!" Daniel quickly reacted, praying that no one had noticed the sudden appearance of the clouds of black smoke.

"What was that!? Have they found a counter to our cloaks!?" Sergeant Mrrkur growled.

"I'm detecting unstable EM waves being generated by the shield. It's likely making a constant minor EMP effect, which could in theory disrupt our cloak generators without affecting our less sensitive equipment," Lieutenant Felkira explained.

"Right. Ok, I'm going to send you all back. This is likely to end in a full on engagement, and you're too tired," Daniel told them.

"But, Sir-" they all tried to protest.

"I know how tired you all actually are, and if this results in a fire fight, that could be the reason you die."

"We have stims," Felkira pointed out. "It may not be a proper rest, but we're more than capable."

"... If anyone wants to go, then go. I'll make my decision based on who's left," Daniel replied, waiting in silence for a moment. "... Fine, but if you start getting too tired, pull out. Affinity, I just need to confirm something. Can the defenders enter the shield?"

"No," she confirmed. "Like normal shields, they are one way, and there are also no breaks in it that would allow someone to enter. There may be an underground entrance, but given I can't detect anything even with active scans, it's going to be deep and small if it exists, and certainly not something that can be used to bring reinforcements in. If they try to get help, they need to drop it, at which point I will destroy it with a precision strike, along with their forces once they are out of proximity to the civilian bunkers."

"Good. We only have to deal with what's in the facility then," he concluded. "Alright, team, let's move."

They remained underground to mask their approach, relying on their power armours' slightly distorted passive sensors to see what was around them. It didn't take them long to find another defensive line, but it was thankfully minimal and almost entirely composed of basic infantry. Once they reached the emitter, they headed deeper into the ground and entered a bunker, finding panicked soldiers standing guard, but no sign of anyone attempting to restore the shield. They also quickly found that the walls and floors were too thin to fully conceal their smoke forms, so they were forced to remain inside the ceiling as they continued to get a better layout of the facility.

"Ok, let's go over this very quickly," Daniel began to tell his team. "We've mapped the first two floors with our scans and found nothing of interest, meaning what we want is likely deeper, beyond what we can scan without being detected. Many security systems don't seem to be receiving power, but some are like the camera network, so remain aware of them. Guards are always in groups of at least four, which doesn't play well with splitting the team up. Corridors are narrow and laid out to be easy to watch, so it's going to be extremely difficult to approach guards unseen, and we can't easily circumvent them. Our options are to either fight our way down or to use the thick walls to see if we can find something of value near them lower down."

"I say we fight," Lieutenant Commander Revven replied. "That has the chance of getting them to lower the shield so Affinity can destroy it."

"That is not the objective though. We need to trace the connection back to the central command of this thing," Daniel pointed out.

"I say we...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/micktalian on 2024-09-14 18:24:45+00:00.

Part 84 Remember (Part 1) (Part 83)

[Help support me on Ko-fi so I can try to commission some character art ~~and totally not spend it all on Gundams]~~

Back when Tens was serving in the Nishnabe Militia, there had only been a single time he had been ordered to investigate a derelict vessel floating in the cold darkness of the void. That particular wreck was a Chigagorian line ship measuring in at over three kilometers wide, nearly twice as long, and had only been floating in space for a couple thousand years before being rediscovered. The journey through that hulk, as decrepit as it was, felt more like walking through the aftermath of a great battle than anything else. All throughout that fascist crustacean ship were preserved corpses, barely held together corridors, and the signs of fierce fighting. Though he had been surrounded by death, decay, and destruction, at no point did he feel he was on hallowed ground. He had been a young warrior fresh off a rather brutal campaign against those dastardly crabs. There was simply no way he could have forced himself to even pretend to be respectful towards his surroundings.

In this ancient hulk which was once a space station with few equals in its time or the modern day, however, Tens consistently felt the urge to lay down tobacco and say a prayer. Even without bodies floating around, or even any real signs that sapient beings had once walked these halls, this place felt like a graveyard. After over three hours of delving deeper and deeper into this wreck, the areas that Tens and Singularity Entity 139-621 passed through seemed to become more pristine the further in they traveled. Where the outer hull looked like melt slag and the first few sets of corridors had clearly seen better days, these past few sections almost looked new. Despite the ominous red glow of the emergency lighting being maintained by the low-level automated systems and the various battery backups Tens and 139 had been restoring along the way, these last several kilometers looked like they hadn't been touched by either the passage of time or the starburst explosion that wiped this system clean of life.

“Tens, I…osing…r signa…Can y…” Binko's squawking sounded a bit panicked through the inference causing his voice to cut out.

“Hold on one moment.” Only one of 139's drones had remained by Tens's side as the pair continued descending deeper into the massive derelict. “Patching your comms through my drone network now.”

“I say again! Can you hear m-” The deep purple avian had raised his voice into a shout by the time it fully returned and the static was removed.

“Yes! Yes, I can hear you, Binko!” The Nishnabe warrior cut his best friend off with a chuckle. “We just passed through an area with a lot of dense walls. What’s up?”

“You scared me, you weenunk!” A deep sigh of relief was quickly followed by some harsh scolding squawks. “I lost track of your signal at the fifty kilometer mark! But anyways, the Sub-Admiral wants an update. Can she have the students send over some of their drones to get some scans?”

“I will provide the Turt-Chopians with relevant archeological scan data.” Ansiki chimed in with a very particular tone that implied this was not up for debate. “There are some things in this station hulk that would be best kept between us.”

“So you know what this station is then?” Though Tens's mech continued walking along the floor of the corridor without turning towards the biomechanical insectoid skittering alongside it, 139 could tell the human was looking straight at their drone when he asked that.

“Before I answer, I have a question for you, Tens.” The drone’s ever-shifting liquid metal mechanical eyes glanced over and looked as if they were staring directly into the Nishnabe warrior's soul. “Has Na-An-Na Bo-Zo-Ho ever allowed you to enter their sphere?”

“Of course! Everyone who goes through school on Shkegpewen gets to take a field trip into NAN's body. I remember it like it was yesterday. We even got to see their… I think they called it their Congi-something Center. The part of their sphere where their actual biological brain is housed. Hey Binko, you remember seeing that, right?”

“Yeah, niji!” Despite the fact that avian beaks aren't really capable of smiling the same way mammals can, Binko's nostalgic smirk could be heard in his voice. “That was one of the coolest and most terrifying things I've ever seen!”

“Did you two see the core of Na-An-Na's stellar consumption array as well?”

“Well…” Tens's somewhat playful hesitancy was all the confirmation Ansiki needed. “We weren't really supposed to, but we did sneak away from the group and wandered around a bit. You need to remember, we were kids. Anything we saw-”

“If you saw another stellar consumption array core, could you recognize it?”

“I guess but…” The Nishnabe warrior and his Kroke best friend were only twelve years old when they got the opportunity to tour the interior of NAN's massive sphere-body, but there were certain things from that day they could never forget. “Wouldn’t the Xel'achorians version look different?”

“No, they are the exact same design and dimensions. We have not been able to iterate upon, improve, or even modify the design that was co-developed over six hundred millions ago. It will look exactly the same.”

“Then, yes… I would probably recognize it… Why do you ask?”

“If my memory serves, we will eventually reach an area with two directions of travel. The stellar consumption array core will be on the left, and the computational center will be on the right. I will be sending in more drones soon to act as additional relays, but we cannot wait for them to arrive. We will need to split up.”

“If the stellar consumption arrays are so secret, why don't you take that direction?”

“Because I do not know the state Morg'anafae is in, and I feel it would be best if she only saw a familiar face. Assuming she is still alive somehow.” Ansiki paused for a moment and let out a soft and surprisingly human chuckle. “And.. Well… If Na-An-Na allowed you to wander through their body and see both their soul and their array’s core, then they trust you. If they trust you, then so will I. When you do find the core, I need you to ensure that no one will ever be able to reverse engineering the technology. Do you understand?”

“You want me to destroy an unbreakable object? I can do that.”

“Good.”

/---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since the War of Eons, Singularity Entity 139-621, or An-Si-Ki Ho-Ti-An, had participated in countless other conflicts across the stars. Over the course of their incredibly long life, this being had been responsible for nearly a trillion lives moving on to whatever came next. That was their job after all. The role they had been created to fulfill. As a simple warrior never meant to exceed the rank equivalent of low level field officer, this Entity had never quite felt comfortable being among the most experienced and well respected soldiers in the galaxy. Considering both their personal notoriety and the way most other species viewed the Singularity as nearly deific, it had been a very long time since 139 had really been able to feel like an equal among common soldiers. However, while they were in the presence of Tensebwse, they felt that nostalgic comradery that they yearned for. Though Tens was anything but common, there was something oddly comforting about working alongside a warrior who had earned the trust and respect of a member of the Singularity Collective.

Over three hundred million years ago, back before this mighty space station had become a grave, Singularity Entity 139-621 had plenty of people they looked up to and considered friends. In fact, 139 had memories of these same halls with people who referred to them as Ansiki or Hotian in that exact way Tens did. Before this Singularity Entity had fought in their first real battle, waged their first war, or even experienced death for the first time, this shining jewel of a station was one of their first experiences with another species who embodied the absolute pinnacle of sapient life. This was once a place of honor, where the galaxy's greatest warriors, most intelligent scientists, and wisest philosophers came to share all they knew and had experienced. After all these eons, all of the loss, and all of the trauma, 139 felt a strange and calming sense of nostalgia as they journeyed through this now derelict wreck alongside someone they could consider a friend.

“Ansiki?” There had only been a few moments of silence between swapping war stories but something had been brewing in Tens’s mind and the man simply couldn't keep it in any longer. “Can I ask you about this Morg'anafae person?”

“What would you like to know about her, Tens?”

“Well… First, how smart was she?” Though the tone of Tens's question was entirely earnest, 139 couldn't help but look over at the man's mech with tilted head. “You mentioned that she was training to act like a biological computer. I assume that means she must have been really smart. And that voice earlier said she was starting to awaken, so…”

“She certainly was rather intelligen...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/2weekoldpickle on 2024-09-14 12:08:05+00:00.

Howdy all, chapter 4 has arrived after a long 21 days. A lot has been happening as classes begin to pick up again. Still keeping up with my schedule, we will see how much longer that lasts lol. I love reading all the comments you all leave, It truly means the world to me! As always, remember to lock your sheds!

If you are taking the time out of your day to read this post, thank you. If you give me feedback that can be used to improve a skill I'm new to, I thank you sincerely. Enough rambling and I hope that you have a good day.

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Chapter 4: “You're welcome.”

NOTE: All metrics of time and distance have been translated into human equivalents.

Jarekk – Glorbian Husband, Farmer, Father – Age: 39

Roughly 16 hours and 45 minutes after impact.

My gray tractor shed lies before me, now a graveyard to 4 gryneers. It's funny how fast everything can change. Not even 2 hours ago I was still asleep, now I had killed 3 predators and watched my son be driven off to the hospital. And here I stood, at the entrance of my shed, carrying miscellaneous supplies for no reason other than my son asking if I trusted him.

What a morning, thank the gods I had a jimpter first.

My curiosity about what may lay behind this door had helped invigorate me to hastily get those wilos some water. Now that I was here, getting assaulted by the fresh scent of dead animals, I couldn’t do it. I stood and stared at the door, trying to listen but no sound was heard from inside. I waited for my body to walk to the door and open it, but nothing happened.

The bandages and disinfectant, the longer I am out here the more likely something is bleeding out.

But then why would my son tell me to do chores first, it must not have been that serious of an injury.

Fair, still it is probably hungry and thirsty, I need to just walk in and introduce myself.

Introduce yourself to a wilo?

If it was a wilo it probably would have yelped or sneezed by now.

Maybe it is a silent and deadly wilo.

Maybe this is an idiotic internal argument that could be solved by OPENING THE DAMN SHED.

I moved my hand to grab the handle; my stomach was starting to revolt at this stench surrounding me which was the final push my brain needed.

Do I knock first? It’s my shed but someone is probably living in it.

It couldn’t hurt . . .

Knock Knock Knock Speaking in a voice that was almost shouting “Hey, uhhh. I heard from my son that you are in there sooooo, I’m coming in to give you some supplies.”

“Ah, ok, feel free to come in.”

The response made me jump as I wasn’t anticipating one. It triggered my translator to automatically and fluently interpret the non-Sowmimean language so that I could understand it. Before I could process all of this they continued.

“Did he explain our situation to you?”

“No, we rushed him to the doctor, he said that you would be able to answer my questions.”

There was a noticeable pause from the voice in the shed. So noticeable and long in fact that I didn’t think they would respond, but they finally replied.

“Is Drekan going to be alright?”

My stomach began to roll at just the mention of anything bad happening to Drekan. My only son was my everything; he’s half the reason I get out of bed every morning. Making sure that I can leave this world knowing that Drekan is prepared for everything this universe can throw at him is my one wish.

He dies now or when the humans invade, what difference?

Every day lived is a blessing, and besides, my son is a fighter, he will manage. Heck, he survived this.

“I think he will be fine if it isn’t infected, he probably lost a lot of blood. When did this all go down?”

“I . . . don’t know how long ago but quite some time.”

I realized how rude it had been for me to forget about all of these supplies I was supposed to be giving this ally. The weight of the plastic basket in my hand was a subtle reminder of why I had come here in the first place. The stench was a further incentive to hurry on indoors.

“Oh, then you probably need some aid as well, I’ll bring these supplies in quick.”

I morphed myself into a lower profile as I swung the door open but was met with a powerful force quickly slamming it shut after only getting it open a few inches. Not expecting the returning motion of the door, I ran straight into it with full confidence. An unrelenting mass of wood left me with a throbbing pain through the upper half of my body, and my curiosity had turned to anger.

“Damn the Gods! Why on Glorby did you do that?”

“SORRY, Sorry. I just, I feel like I should explain something first before you come in.”

The pulsing on my cranium wasn’t winning this stranger any favors, and now they were preventing me from helping them. This is my shed, they are a trespasser.

“Look, this all can be explained after you let me help you out, no one tells someone to bring bandages to a shed if everything is alright. I made my boy a promise that I would bring you supplies in exchange for my questions being answered. I will fulfill my end of the bargain and you will answer things such as ‘Why are you on my property?’ and ‘Why did you slam a door in my face?’ alrighty? The reason I didn’t bring a gun as a ‘negotiation tactic’ is because I made Drekan a promise, but if you aren’t going to cooperate, that can change. Now, let me into my shed.” I leaned back before putting exceeding force into pushing the door open and trying to walk through it once again, this time preparing for the scenario that it didn’t budge.

“Just let me-”

Was all the stranger had managed to say before I threw the door open. The door had no resistance this time, so my extra force led to me stumbling slightly forward before returning to my resting shape. After catching myself, I noticed the large figure to the right of me.

By the Gods above, it can’t be.

A human.

It was sitting there, with its legs curled to its chest, along the same wall as the two doors. Though it was sitting, it was only slightly shorter than I was standing at full height. Its wide eyes were whitish-pinkish and had tiny lines of red dancing across them like shattered glass. As I scanned lower down, I noticed the blood, Gods there was so much blood. Blue speckles polka dotted all over its clothes, letting my imagination run wild of its previous victims. It had pale pink skin obscured somewhat by patches of brown fur across the top and bottom of its head. Finally, I was hit with a stench, not quite as foul as the scent of death outside, but as if some had leaked in, with a hind of strong body odor. It looked shocked at my sudden and loud appearance and hadn’t moved. I was within a foot of the monster, and I hated every microsecond of it.

The appearance of this human was enough to cause my brain to send every fleeing chemical it could to all parts of my body. I need my gun. I sent a wave of power down to my legs in an attempt to run out the door but was grabbed by the beast before I had a chance. I dropped the supplies in shock as it pulled me close. It was as if it was hugging me and then it stood up to prevent me from touching the ground. I was lifted into the air and watched with horror as it used its leg to kick the door closed, trapping me inside here with it. I tried to change my shape to slide through its grasp, but it tightened its grip and prevented my escape.

I couldn’t breathe, not because of its grip strength but because of the fact it caught me. My brain was trying to find a solution, but the control center had already gone down. No matter how much I squirmed or pushed the beast wasn’t letting me go. I was melting and could feel my heart beating faster than ever. I morphed my arms to the top of my head to try and poke at the creature’s face, but they were swatted away repeatedly and this caused the monster to close its eyes tightly and grip harder. It opened its mouth, surely attempted to bite me in two and consume my flesh.

“DON’T EAT ME, I HAVE A FAMILY!”

It spoke calmly despite my heart wanting to implode and my body

“You need to calm down, I won’t hurt you, but I couldn’t let you go grab your gun. Remember what Drekan asked you?”

‘Do you trust me or not?’ Surely not about this abomination right son? Also, can they read minds, the gun thing was a little too specific. By the gods, they are even worse than I could have imagined.

I was still trying to wiggle out of the creature's grasp, “Don’t you DARE say my son’s name! If you touch him, I swear you will feel the wrath of the Gods above!”

The monster didn’t say anything in response but walked over to the far side of the shed, as far from the door as possible, and let me down. My loosely shaped and squashed body fell to the ground with a slap, but the adrenaline pushed my body to form its natural posture in an instant. As soon as I could, I sprinted for the exit before being picked up again by my armpits and returned to the corner. This time I simply stood where I was placed, understanding my fate. I watched as this massive creature twice my height simply walked across the room to the supply basket. Grabbing the basket, it then ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Hot-West9928 on 2024-09-14 16:58:06+00:00.

First_Previous_

Royal Road_wiki

"This is bullshit!" Fortress groaned after slamming his shield back on the stone entrance of their hidey-hole. It had received a bunch of new scratches and dents and was almost ripped out of his hands this time. 

"Do you think Drop made it?" He then asked after calming back down a bit.

"Yes, he definitely made it. You know him." Cutter answered, breathing in sharply.

"Then we're at least not dying for nothing."  Fortress joked in gallows humor.

"Indeed." Cutter agreed and continued applying pressure to his side.

The three locked-down hunters had almost got away themselves. However, Cutter's call to let their Scout escape and warn the village of this new threat had been the smart move. Cutter and his partners had then fought the invisible asshole with all the ferocity Ice-kin could bring up, only retreating after Fortress had crushed the thing's foot, slowing it down. Still, they couldn't get away because while they slowed down the monstrosity, it had also dealt a lot of damage. Cutter had a horrific cut on his side when a claw got through his defense and cut right through the armor, which parted like a piece of cloth. 

An Ice-kin's armor was made of the cured skin of monstrosities. It was also layered and reinforced by metal plates sewn between two of those leather layers. Its thickness depended on the hunter. Scouts preferred lighter armor, while Guardians wanted as much protection as possible. This, in turn, meant that getting through this armor was extremely difficult. At least, typically. Meaning the claws of this thing were unbelievably sharp.

And worse, Cutter's sword was bent in the middle when this abnormality had used its tail like a whip, following up its claw strike. To the hunter's luck, this attack threw him back, and instead of crashing into something hard, he crashed into Silence and, therefore, was spared more wounds. However, Silence had been surprised by his boss flying full force at him and couldn’t react in time to either evade Cutter or steady himself to catch his leader. This means that after the two hunters disentangled themselves, Silence flinched when he tried to put his weight on his right foot.

While their wounds weren't fatal, they couldn't fight on, and hoping they had bought their scout enough time, ran. The monstrosity followed them, hobbling after them with its hurt foot. However, because Cutter and Silence needed Fortess' support to walk somewhat fast, the hunter team couldn't make their break away. Everything got worse when the monstrosity, hard on their heels, let out a strangely hollering sound, and only finding this little cave saved their lives because the second monstrosity attacked them from their flank. They had just made it into the cave when it crashed out of the foliage, but this one had black fur and burning red eyes instead of being almost invisible. It looked like it came right out of a nightmare. Only the three fleeing hunters' ice-cold will prevented them from vacating their bowels, when they got a look at it.

"How's your shield holding?" Cutter asked after the lengthy silence.

"Not good. I have probably one or two attacks before it breaks. It wouldn't be a problem if I could reinforce it, but this fucking thing goes completely insane if I do that, and I can't hold up the magic reinforcement endlessly." Fortress said.

"Then we need to make a decision. You know the village law. No one will come and help us, so it's do or die." Cutter sighed.

At this, the brooding Silence garbled some unintelligible words, which was the only way he could make his opinion known in this dark space. It was a testament to the hunting team's familiarity that they could understand the mute hunters' sounds. 

"Are you having a fever attack?" Cutter asked, concerned.

Fortress, in turn, laughed out loud. "You know that won't happen, Silence. The Chief would not allow it."

The silent hunter rolled his eyes and then made some more noises.

"Because the kids need to do their first hunts before being allowed to do such things." Cutter said.

"Also, they have no weapons. Training weapons will only tickle this thing's hide." Fortress added.

Again, Silence garbled something.

"The Soul-boy? True, he might be allowed to go, but why should he?" Cutter asked.

The mute hunter had no answer to this question. However, Fortress got thoughtful.

"Well, he saved his friends from that gobbler. Risking his life, maybe if my daughter asked him." The guardian stated.

"You need to see it as is." Cutter said. "We are on our own, maybe and hopefully will not get us out of this predicament, so either we shit or get off the pot."

The mute Silence mumbled his opinion, then got as comfortable as possible, trying to keep his swollen foot still.

"Really?" Cutter asked incredulously. "You want to sit there and wait instead of killing this fucking thing and get back?"

"Well, we can hold out until tomorrow morning." Fortress mused. "Skipping another meal will not kill us. However, going out there without a plan will."

Cutter wanted to argue, then had to agree. It wasn't like him to charge something, hoping it would work out. His priority should be keeping his comrades alive. That's why he's the leader.

"You're both right." He stated. "Sorry for not keeping a calm head."

"It's fine. Sleep and recover. I will hold our position," Fortress said with a bright smile, and Cutter grinned back. Silence also voiced his opinion, making the other two men laugh out loud. All in all, the desperate situation got a bit more lively and positive.

"You know what, Silence. If you're right and my boy comes to help with the magic-wonderchild in toe, I will give you my part of the loot," Cutter said with a chuckle.

"Me too!" Fortress added, not wanting to sit out a distraction, no matter how minor it was.

The three stuck hunters then just chatted, their main topic being the growth of Cutter's and Fortress' children.

"What's the plan?" Mor whispered and got shushed by Drop, who had a strained look on his face.

After a bit, Drop whispered, "Something is strange. Look over there." Without making any big movements, he pointed to some shrubbery to the side.

The three young hunters followed his direction, but neither Mor, Jorgen nor the human could make out anything. Elly, however, saw what Drop had noticed and breathed her answer.

"Either there is a second, or this one had left once."

Drop nodded, glad to have his sentiment confirmed by another scout, young as she might be.

"However, if it had left, Cutter and the rest would have been able to get away. Except if the time frame was not long enough. Still, I think the more plausible explanation is a second one." Drop mumbled.

°That's bad. This would mean we must take out one before we get overwhelmed.° The human stated, and Mor agreed.

°However, this one was enough trouble for Drop to be sent away, so it is no pushover.°

°Yeah, and keeping attention on one invisible enemy is hard. Two? Impossible.° The human grumbled.

°Then what can we do?° Mor asked.

°Wait and trust in the experienced hunters.° The human replied.

After a few more minutes, watching Drop nodded to himself and addressed his temporary team as silently as possible.

"Elly, get up into a tree, where you have a good view of the clearing, but no magic, and stay silent."

The girl nodded and did her best to remember her mother's lessons in stealth. For Mor and Jorgen, it seemed the girl crawled back a few meters and then seemingly vanished. Jorgen had to suppress an impressed whistle at Elly's skill. Well, Mor suppressed it by reactively pressing the face of the other boy into the dirt when the human noticed the impending doom. Instead of a loud whistle, it was only a muffled groan that escaped the boy, and luckily this wasn't enough to alarm their prey.

Drop also looked in panic at the Ice-kin and slowly let out the breath he had been holding when the monstrosity didn't react to this tiny sound. Then continued to give his orders.

"Mor, I need you to work as a taunter. Can you manage it? You might need to hold the attention of two monstrosities for a moment. At least until Fortress can join you, he should be nearly unharmed."  "At least I hope that." This last part Drop kept to himself.

Mor nodded while Jorgen looked at the scout expectantly.

"Jorgen, you and I will work as strikers. You keep your attention on the one right there. Its hobbling gate must be because of an injury, so it should be easier for you to handle. If there's a second, leave it to me. It shouldn't take long for Cutter and Silence to come for support. If that happens, I will join Elly for an ambush attack."

The scout took a deep breath and noticed the two boys' nervosity. Their apparent excitement outweighed any doubts, which he took as a good sign. Still, Mor and his companion had a quick discussion on how their game plan should look.

°Let's charge and try to get as close as possible to Gorn's shield.° Mor stated.

°I don't know if that's the best way. A pincer move should be more effective. Also, if we charge by it, this raptor will be between us and our team.° The human countered.

°Right, I didn’t think of that.° Mor stated.

*°...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/BainshieWrites on 2024-09-14 16:46:34+00:00.

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“Wait, let me see if I understand this?”

Zantari asked the question with a level of confusion, their mammalian form’s little brown floppy ears waving in a questioning motion. They weren’t quite sure exactly what kind of story they were expecting to hear from the Hatil sat in front of them, but it hadn’t been the one that had been told. 

The little cream-coloured teddy bear like Hatil diplomat was dressed in a nicely tailored navy blue suit.To the other Hatil, she looked distinguished and professional. On the other hand, any Terrans around would have considered her absolutely adorable, with a near irresistible urge to give the walking plush toy a hug. Zantari personally didn't care what the Hatil wore, considering the Ghirlinn were a race that could now change their biology at will, with clothing as barely an afterthought..

“So, the Terrans reawakened from their stasis, and without doing any proper research, your people started a war with the explicit goal of killing every Terran you found.””

“Yes, much to our eternal shame. We ignorantly feared the rise of a new AI race.”

The Hatil were nothing special in the galaxy, hardly considered a FTL capable species. There is a flaw with the early type of FTL travel most species use, that while folding space to create a shorter path to travel through was efficient, there was nothing stopping you from appearing in the middle of something, often destroying both things.

Most species realized the danger of any idiot with a warp engine being able to reappear within the core of your home world, and quickly developed disruptors to pre-fold space within certain locales to stop such a thing from happening. The Hatil had decided upon a different strategy: aggressive isolation, and demanding all other species avoid their small patch of space. After a thousand years, nothing really changed for them on the galactic scale. Sure, governments, language, and culture shifted, but all within their unmoving territory. The only reason they hadn’t been conquered by another race was simply because nobody else wanted to risk being neighbours with an unknown AI species. 

“So then you launch a surprise attack against several outposts and their diplomatic vessel, your only victories in the war mind you, as pyrrhic as they are. The Terrans, unsurprisingly considering that their AI had been researching and upgrading their technologies over the last ten thousand years, completely trash your armies, including destroying one of your colonies.”

“Completely justifiably of course, we were the aggressors against those who just wanted friendship.”

That brought them to their next topics: among which included their technology. The station Zantari was at was a lot nicer than the Ghirlinn had expected from a Hatil maintained creation, with a far higher standard of technology than they remembered the little teddies having. 

Setting up the meeting itself had been slightly annoying, the military outpost at the edge of Terran Alliance territory being one of the few Hatil locations that didn't have a major Terran presence. It was also a relatively new addition, proof of the Hatil’s increased power and logistics to create such a place within the last three years. Zantari was just glad that the general power of the Ghirlinn meant that most diplomats would meet them at any place of their choosing, whether that was their homeworld, or a random isolated outpost.

“So after you attempted a war of eradication against the Terrans, and lost, they…” Zantari gave a sigh as they tried to get their head around it. “Left you with full autonomy, provided aid for the war you started, shared their technology with you, and created a major galactic alliance around the pair of you, of which you are currently the second-largest military power?”

The Ghirlinn were not sore winners, as they had plenty of experience with various weaker aggressive species who had tried to take them on for various reasons of religion, culture, or just pure arrogance. Slavery or eradication was more effort than it was worth, but at the very least the Ghirlinn would take their weapons and put them under new administration. For a few generations, until they learned ‘Not to do it again’. Sadly for the Ghirlinn, the fact that so many either didn’t seem to learn or got worse in regimes afterwards didn’t seem to connect in their mind.

But the Terrans seemed to respond to the Hatil’s poorly implemented attempt at genocide with an emotion of slight annoyance, giving the Hatil aid and uplifting them to a technology level that was above average in the Galaxy.

“No no no, the army is a new thing, and not permanent. As soon as the war is over, we will be dismantling our forces again. We have only militarized to aid the Terrans.”

It was an impressive military, especially considering what Zantari had been expecting based on what they remembered of the Hatil. The fleet parked around this outpost was rather extensive: thousands of vessels, swarms of automated drones, more power than a lot of civilizations could muster. The idea that the Hatil would truly give up this power was one Zantari would have to see to believe, not that they cared that much either way. 

“That's not my question. My question is… Why would the Terrans do that?”

It was risky, illogical and adorable in equal parts, the little Terrans giving those who tried to kill them a metaphorical pat on the head and asking them nicely not to do it again. A burning desire erupted within Zantari, to protect the bumbling primates from their own naive actions.

This was going to be a problem in the future, other Ghirlinn kidnapping Terrans to give them protection… 

“I'll be honest, we don't know. The Terrans had every right to destroy us for our unforgivable actions, but they chose not to. All we can do is attempt to use their mercy and forgiveness, each day proving that choice was the correct one.”

Naive or not, it seemingly had worked out for the Terrans. The Hatil were unrecognizable, their old culture, even down to their dress and names, assimilated and replaced by the Terrans. To turn an initial enemy into steadfast allies, in such a short period of time, was an impressive feat.

Zantari would never get to finish that thought however, as an alarm sounded out, the sirens causing both parties in the meeting room to look around in shock. It took only a few moments for another Hatil to burst through the doors with an aura of worry, whispering something urgently to the diplomat as the Ghirlinn looked on.

“I’m sorry, we need to cut this meeting short. I’ve been informed of an incoming Estorian fleet.  I would advise you to leave immediately, I’ll escort you to your ship.”

“Ah, that’s unfortunate, we’ll have to continue this another day.”

Zantari slowly got up, taking a moment to give a large and overexaggerated stretch, a feeling of annoyance and anger being hidden behind his careful appearance. They didn’t like the Estorians. They didn’t like any of the five races, bullies and generally nasty people didn’t sit right with them at all. Unfortunately, Zantari couldn’t get involved unless certain circumstances were met, the Hatil would be left to their own defences.

Which was why Zantari was in no great rush to leave, because they had a plan.

They followed the Hatil diplomat at a slow walking pace, being escorted back through the military outpost as chaos reigned supreme around them; various Hatil sprung into action, running to and fro, getting ready whatever tasks they needed for the upcoming defence, alarms still blaring as they prepared for war.

“Um, we should pick up the pace, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt and the enemy is incoming.”

“I’m moving, we’ll get there when we get there.”

The Hatil diplomat was clearly worried and having the most professional panic attack in the universe, visions of what the repercussions would be if this diplomatic member of a technologically superior species were to be hurt, or even worse, killed. The Ghirlinn were a scary species from the outside; while nobody knew exactly what they could do, it was clear they were playing on another level. The Hatil didn’t want to be responsible for one of their citizen’s deaths.

Zantari on the other hand, wasn’t worried at all, walking along at a slow meandering pace as the Hatil lead the way with a panicked energy, painfully aware of every minute passing in this most terrifying and annoying of escort quests, turning back around to silently urge on the Ghirlinn to move a little bit faster. Not that they were planning on rushing away, just slow gradual progress to justify what was probably going to happen next.

Eventually, the pair made their way back to the small docking bay where Zantari had left their ship, a sea of moving Hatil getting ships ready and taking off with great speed. At the centre of it stood the Ghirlinn’s vessel. It was small compared with the other ships parked in the bay, a simple one-seater vessel with some dimensional trickery to make it larger on the inside than the outside. Rounded off lines made of bright cream painted metal gave it the appearance of almost being drawn, flowing lines coming together into an oblong shape and the three points of the landing gear it currently stood on.

“We...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Engletroll on 2024-09-14 15:53:10+00:00.

Adam didn’t leave his room before the evening; he only found Hara and the baby on the ship. The others were shopping and talking about getting satellites and probes. He checked his wrist and saw a few messages, mostly lists of things they needed. He had absentmindedly accepted those throughout the day as he had been absorbing more about the different cultures.  He had searched for a civilization in this galaxy sector that didn’t have slavery and found none; the four Fushan and Haran wars had been epic. To him, it seemed more like cats and dogs fighting. The two cultures had several peaceful colonizers as well.  They had the largest amount of cross-species marriages as well.  What he was left with was to use common sense and remember that most people here don’t understand humor or human culture.

Hara looked up from a pad as he entered the main room. “Are you hungry, mas… what should I call you, by the way? I mean, if you don’t like Master?” She asked, and he replied quickly.’

“Adam, I'm just Adam. If you want to be formal, it's Mr. Wrangler, but nobody outside a business meeting would call me that.” He smiled to her as he went to make himself some food, when she moved to help he had to stop her.

“I do know how to make food. I'm not a child.” He tried to say it as friendly and non-treating as possible. She stepped back, a little confused.

“I read that Fushans feel comfortable with serving others, and I know why you are here and not free to wander the galaxy, but you don’t have to serve me dinner, I’m not a child. “ He explained as he continued making himself some food. He saw there were some blue pancakes left and grabbed one.   She looked at him as she slowly sat down. She had been up the moment she had asked him. Like an eager puppy. “I never got to thank you properly.” She said, looking at him, and he chuckled.

“There's no need to thank me. I'll be at the bridge. Where is Jork?” he replied as he was getting ready to leave.

“He is installing the drone drive in my brother's ship. My brother said you wanted to do that.” She replied, slightly confused, and wondered Adam if he had missed something.

“Oh, thank you. Let me know when they are finished and send Vorts up to the bridge when he returns.” He replied as he went up and sat down in the pilot chair and turned on the screes while drinking a cup of what he hoped was coffee. He put the plate with blue pancakes and chicken legs on the small table next to the chair.

“Computer, run check up on all systems and check all reports. No audio screen only.” He stretched slowly, not to spill the cup as he gave the instructions. He suddenly had an urge for chocolate but remembered eating the last stash weeks ago. Good, he needed to find a way to order some from Earth.  Or find out how to make some here.  He drank the coffee while he went over the reports. He barely heard Vorts come into the bridge and stop next to him.  

“You asked for me, sir?” He said while he put his hand behind his back; Adam glanced at him and then nodded.

“Yeah, I know you're not a Terraformer, but you should know more about this than me. What do you think about the plan?” he asked as he leaned on the arm of his chair.  “And please speak honestly.”

“Honestly? Are you sure?” He replied, clearly uncomfortable.

“Yes, if you can see a flaw, then I would like to know before we try. I don’t want to waste unnecessary credits here. I’m not made out of money.” Adam smiled as he replied, trying to calm him down.

“To be honest, It won't work, sir.  There is a reason why nobody cares about full terraforming. It’s a waste of resources, and there are so many planets around where you only need to change the atmosphere by introducing some invasive oxygen algae and wait a hundred years.  You plan to make it into a breathable planet within ten years. You are aware that the atmosphere is too thin, right? There is not enough nitrogen; only traces of oxygen and argon exist. The Carbon level is way too high; the pressure is too low, so your little atmosphere is slowly leaking out. The lack of a proper atmosphere destroys your other project of making organic waste into dirt. The current atmosphere can't hold the heat during the night, so it's like the days are summer and nights are winter.  Hold the waste until the domes are built and dump it there. Then buy fertilizer and spread over them, and within a year, you will have a field there. “ Vorts spoke carefully, but when he noticed Adam didn’t get upset but merely listened, he seemed to be more relaxed.

“Okay, so we melt the poles; water vapor should help release more gasses. “ Adam replied. “Look, I know this is unusual, but just because people don’t do it doesn't mean it can't be done.”

“You should record everything; maybe get a research droid to keep a record. If it works, I'm sure many would be interested in how it was done.” Vorts replied, and Adam nodded.

“And how much would that cost?” Adam asked as he checked his spending that day. He had 71,000 credits. He needed to go over the receipts when they took off.

“Those are cheap, and 500 bits will get you top of the line with the above security.  Most students buy used ones and tinker with them to adjust their research results. A new one will ensure you have not tinkered with it.” Vorts replied that he had still not moved. Adam looked at him.

“Then get one, and make sure we have food for everybody, at least six months' food for everybody,”  Adam replied, then looked back at the screen and back at Vorts. “Oh, and thank you.”

Vorts was still standing there, and Adam tilted his head as he asked. “Yes? Anything I can help you with?”

Vorts looked at him for a second, then shook his head as he replied. “No, You meant I can go?”

“Yes. I will see you later.” Adam replied and he watched as Vorts left. He was wondering if he insulted him in some way, and for a second, he wondered where D01 was.

“Computer Locate D01!”  He didn’t know why he had given the instruction, but D01 was just outside the bridge. He immediately stepped inside and, with a cold computer voice, reported in. It made Adam a little calmer, and he turned back to the screen.  

“Computer! Show the current budget and compare the cost of today's spending to the average costs. Show on my screen.” He asked, and he leaned towards the screen to check. Most were the same price. But he saw that Vorts seemed to not care so much about the costs, shopping with other people's money. Roks seemed to be much more frugal. It was clear that Roks would be doing the shopping for now.  

Three hours later, Roks and Jork returned, and they reviewed everything. Only one cubic meter cargo hold was left, and it was divided among booth ships. Adam was eager to get on the way. He paid for the hanger, and then they took off. He loved this part. He flew the ship out, and Rok's hauler followed perfectly. They quickly made it to the hyperplane and set the course and drop-out point then.

“Let's go!” He said as he punched in the drive, and both ships vanished into the waste space. The autopilot immediately took off, and Adam checked the status of the ship's connection. Roks stood next to him and seemed impressed.

“You know your way around the ship. That was some nice flying.”

“Well, I got a level 6 freight certificate. It took me a year and 600 hours of flying along with a six-month course in everything they thought we could encounter out here.” He replied as he got up and went to check on the navigation. “The ship is supposed to be flown by three with two engineers in cargo. The most effective crew is ten; that’s why I’m so heavily reliant on the computer. Had it upgraded.”

“Your people don’t sound like Chaos, more like the Kunitos. Rules for everything. “ Roke replied and Adam chuckled.

“That’s the insectoids, right? They sound like an autistic species for my kind. The certificate is just for my safety. Some never get them and stay off the radar while doing odd jobs. Anyway. Everything looks secure, and the alarm is set.  It will be a week before we get to my system. So I’m planning to study those books you got me.” Adam replied.

“I’ll check up on the others.” Roks replied as he headed out.

Adam found out he enjoyed the company, mainly of Roks and Jorks. Hara was nice and grateful; Vorts was a little cold but never unfriendly; in fact, he was very professional. Hara had told him that Vorts just needed time. The little baby had become the focus of most of the small crew's attention, from his attempts to join his father in singing to crawling anywhere. In the end, Vorts placed a tracker on him just to be sure. Adam was ready when they dropped out of the hyper lane and set the course for the system. It would take three more days before they arrived. Jorks was mainly down in the workstation, programming some drones they had bought. They would be launched and study the system as the original scans had not been very thorough. When they entered the system on the second day, Jork asked permission to launch the drones.  Adam gave the clearance, and as they flew towards the planet, he launched them when they approached points of interest. The grass planets and their moons were all assigned a drone; several drones were sent to scan the asteroid field, and the inner planet got two.  When they went into orbit over Dirt they launched the satellites. Adam checked up on the building's progress. The station was 30% finished, but with the droids and heavy machinery he had bought, they would cut down t...

Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1fgp7mr/project_dirt_part_4/

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ok-Insurance1945 on 2024-09-14 15:22:20+00:00.

I have fins and a fluke. I like my fins and my fluke. I use them to push asteroids sometimes. I also have a dorsal fin. It gets in the way of rolling on asteroids. My mother gathered many asteroids for my nursery. “Stay in the middle and don’t be seen,” she said before leaving to feed, “And don’t jostle the asteroids about so much! They will push each other away and I will have to clean them up.” But what is there to do amongst the asteroids?

If I jostled only one, she would never know. As I swim around it I push it with my fins from this side, and with my fluke from that side. Now it has gone spinning. Too much spinning. I try to stop it spinning with my head. Ouch! The big asteroid scrapes my nose and starts to wander toward the others. I should stop it. But if I don’t, it will collide with all those other asteroids and make such a scene… and that will be fun to watch.

The asteroid slowly stops. Why, asteroid? Why would you stop? Asteroids go or asteroids collide. Only mother can make asteroids stop. 

Now the asteroid begins spinning. And spinning far too much! I follow the spin and on the other side of the asteroid I see something… something new. It is a shape like me but where I have a fluke it has something coarse and hot, and where I have fins it has long graspers that it uses to spin the asteroid. 

The new thing backs away from the asteroid with more course and hot spots on its body. It turns toward me, though its body doesn’t move a muscle. What a large eye it has! And what are those things inside the eye? Moving things with eyes of their own! Long graspers coming from their sides raise into the air above them and flap back and forth. I raise my fin up and down, copying them. They begin bouncing and touching each others graspers. 

I wanted to touch them too, I move close but the new thing moves away, the things in its eye no longer bouncing and grasping. I move closer again and the new thing moves back again. When I stop the new thing moves toward me! This is unexpected and almost frightening so I back away myself. The new thing then backs up again. This… is very fun! I move forward with a giddy flick of my fluke. The new thing turns around and it’s course hot spots get coarser and hotter. The new thing crosses between two asteroids and vanishes from sight. 

My fluke and my fins move almost on their own, yet not fast enough, as I give chase. Once I pass between the asteroids I find nothing there. I sense the new thing pass between two asteroids behind me. I weave between asteroids myself, enjoying our new game. A game of weaving and flying. There again is the new thing in front of me! It faces into the center of the cluster, my nursery. But I am not there. How thrilling! I swim to the new thing and touch it on the side. It immediately flicks about to face me with its eye. The things inside grasp their own centers. The new thing sneaks smoothly forward and touches my nose with its nose. Elated, I flee from the new thing. I hope it is chasing me. It is! I swim between two asteroids. A clever trick I learned from the new thing. Then I swim under an asteroid and hide on the other side. A clever trick I came up with myself. Slowly the new thing floats over the asteroid. It’s eye points away. I have fooled it! I swim under it and touch its belly with my nose. The new thing floats away, tumbling, course hot spots flickering all about it’s body. It turns around to look at me with its big eye. The things in its eye are not bouncing. One of the things reaches both its graspers out toward me, crossing them one in front of the other. The thing then strikes the other thing with it’s grasper. The other thing puts up both its graspers toward me. I have no graspers. I cannot copy them. I try to wiggle my fluke and my fins like they do with their graspers, but it only moves my body. I prefer our weaving and flying game. One of the things in the new thing’s eye grasps the other with both graspers. A shadow covers me. Mother has come back! She will like this new thing!