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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/MrIzuarel on 2024-10-29 13:43:52+00:00.

Chapter 97

The first raid was not very impressive. Two ships merged together, and on that emerging larger ship was now a ship's captain and a fleet admiral. That much wasn't going to stop me from hunting them down, but it helped me with obtaining the buffs faster as both bosses gave me a treasure chest.

Then came the triples. Captain, cannon master, and admiral. The more we killed, the more ridiculous it became. We were not only fighting the ship bosses but the lake bosses, too.

And the more I let it go on, the stronger the undead became. At some point, there were seven ships coming out of the water. I had never programmed my system to go beyond three, and yet this world showed me what I had missed out on.

To say I enjoyed the carnage we caused was an understatement. I was constantly on the front lines and the first to draw blood. I was in such a frenzy that I had missed that this could be an interesting way to farm for points. It wasn't as efficient as some of the other dungeons, and nowhere as good as using my hunter's traps. However, I was farming fishing points to a ridiculous amount thanks to the few books that I could actually use.

I used the books for hunter, miner, and fisherman immediately and ignored the rest, only to realize after multiple days that I had filled an entire warehouse with unusable books.

I hadn't planned anything with them, but I was almost certain that I would, at some point, obtain another job, so I decided to keep them even if they took that much space inside my dungeon.

After realizing that the raid was taking most of the time that my net buff gave me, I was forced to decide what to do. I decided to stop after the last raid, let the lure buff run out, and then use the rest of the time with the net fishing buff to fish as much as I could.

Since the ships only came out when I had the lure buff active, I was certain that the net buff would still be unaffected by it. Planning ahead, I was imagining dozens of my girls fishing with nets for a few minutes and getting thousands of points in seconds.

But then I realized the flaw in that plan. I was inside the lake dungeon, and we would pull out thousands of bosses because of that.

I cursed loudly at that moment.

I wanted to enjoy that absurdity, but because of my previous impulsiveness, that plan felt flat. I looked at the net buffs counter and sighed. +167 for 24 minutes. What a waste!

Or almost. I would lose some minutes, but a partial success was possible. I ordered the immediate retreat of everyone and transported myself to my personal dungeon.

My dungeon had, on the first floor, a few rivers and ponds. No dungeon boss would spawn here, but I needed a refresh of the net buff, so I popped a new lure buff and pulled another raid up, this time inside my dungeon.

Thankfully, it was only a fivefold raid this time, and we rapidly finished it off.

I let my lure run out, then positioned my girls according to my plan. The ones without nets were ordered to go to the many fields and be ready to pull out thousands of fishes from my inventory. The rest would fish like crazy if possible.

That situation lasted for 30 minutes, but during that time, everyone, except for the ones around our river, was running around like headless chickens. I could see mountains of fish forming on that artificial horizon. But that wasn't the only thing we obtained.

The amount of simple treasure chests was astonishing. Unfortunately, none of them were of diamond grade as I had no lure active. That was the drawback of letting the lure disappear in such circumstances. Also, no buff or books came out of those treasure chests. Those two were only found inside pirate ships.

I started to realize what was possible and what wasn't.

After we finished playing around with the nets, I actually went and tried to assess the situation.

Nobody that participated in the logistics of that insanity enjoyed it. I even found two of my girls stuck inside those mountains of fishes, unable to come out.

I understood that such measures needed preparation, but I had to admit that we had made a record in sales that day... and the day after that... and the day after that one, too. We needed three days to empty the dungeon because of the ridiculous amount of fishes inside my dungeon.

We decided that such things would not happen again anymore without proper preparation.

I should have ordered my girls to immediately sell the fish to an active merchant instead of dumping everything into the dungeon, but I needed that mistake to realize my inexperience after all.

During that time, my fighting level barely improved, so it was a bust on that aspect, but my miner job had gained an impressive amount of points and even leveled up thanks to the books.

If it weren't for that piece and my fishing job also improving, there was little to no chance that I would do something like this again. Or maybe once or twice a month.

Well, doing it did improve my mood.

The regular routine restarted, and my girls hunted in their regular efficient ways. I also returned to my duties and directed my attention to our next possible target, or victim. The exact description depended on what I found at my destination.

I secretly hoped for an ally. Someone else that I could talk to because the one-sided conversations weren't intellectually stimulating enough for me anymore.

I reached the forest after a week of traveling, but strangely, I didn't find anything strange about that forest.

Don't misunderstand the situation. There were monsters in that area, but none of them were unique. They behaved like regular monsters and looked like regular monsters.

I inspected one of them and sighed in relief. That thing looked like a combination of a rat and a wolf with violet and green pustules all over the body, about as big as a horse. The inspection revealed it to be a "poison spitting wolf."

I wasn't surprised by that. With every level, the base animal looked more and more like a distorted caricature of itself. Seeing how this abstract creature was still considered a wolf left me wondering what would happen at higher levels.

On my way to the boss I found a boar with his head split in two and rabbit that looked like it was wearing the skin of a overgrown hedgehog as armor, and I wasn't even surprised by that.

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This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/CommercialBee6585 on 2024-10-29 10:13:23+00:00.

We're back! Gonna be posting here again again three times a week. M/W/Fri. This one's free!

Also, don't worry - chapter 18 isn't missing. I'm just reordering my chapters here so they match where the story is on Patreon. Basically, you haven't missed anything. This chapter follows on from 17.

Previous/First/Discord

---Delve Notification---

[SAFE ZONE REACHED]

Ethan blinked through dust and swamp water before realizing that one half of his left wing was on fire.

He rolled against the dusty floor that he and his companions had landed on. They had entered through the portal into, seemingly, an entirely different interior from what he was expecting—considering that Fauna’s spell had all but obliterated the spire’s exterior. A chamber of ancient sandstone walls surrounded them—each of them engraved with etchings and patterns showing Grumlets hard at work worshipping at shrines or toiling away in the swamps outside, building more monuments to whatever gods they worshipped.

Oh boy, LORE. Where’s the video essay to explain how these walls contain secrets I could never be bothered to care about?

Disdain for this world will get you nowhere, you know.

I thought you’d be pleased with that, Ethan remarked as he shook himself off and took a look at his downed companions around him. After all, you’d like nothing more than to see me dead, right? Or are you more of a Tsundere than I thought?

Searching for Class Designation: [Tsundere]

Results: Inconclusive.

Explanation required.

You’ll just have to take a guess, Sys. Some secrets can’t just be spilled willy-nilly.

He nosed the forms of Tara, Fauna, and Klax, who seemed like they’d been out in a daze as deep as his. As they came to, each of them looked around with wonder, with Fauna in particular staring blankly in disbelief. Probably, her own System window was telling her they had made it.

“We’re… alive,” she said.

“Hell yeah, we are!” Tara shrieked, cartwheeling back to squeeze Ethan’s long neck and then pouncing on her Hopla sister. “All thanks to Ethan and a certain bunny girl’s fiery fingers.”

“T-Tara! You’re embarrassing me in front of the Archon!”

Ethan laughed along with the girls as Klax rose to stand beside him, eyes brimming with relief but also absolute focus.

“Now we tend to our wounds,” he said, pointing down at the scratches on his arms and Ethan’s wings—spots where the javelins of the Grumlets had pierced his feathers and even chipped his armor.

“Ah, Klaxy,” Ethan groaned. “I barely felt a thing, really!”

As usual, Sys then popped up to prove him wrong.

Current HP: 45/90

“…Okay. Maybe I got a few scratches on me. But that’s what our healing potions are for, right?”

Tara jumped up then, finally leaving her shy comrade alone, and threw open her arms to the room around them.

“No need,” she told Ethan. “This here’s a safe zone. There’s usually one or two between Delve floors—a place to rest and recuperate, y’know?”

“Every adventuring party gets at least 12 hours’ respite,” Klax elaborated. “We’d be clever to take it before moving on.”

“And save our supplies for when we need instant healing during combat,” Ethan agreed with a sage, birdly nod. “Sucks that none of you guys have a cleric or healer around.”

Klax shrugged. “It is not something we hybrids are blessed with.”

“Healin’ spells are lame anyway. Never helped any of us put the dead back together. Ain’t that right, Faun?”

The Hopla looked up at Tara with vacant eyes. She said nothing.

“…Eh, sorry.”

Still nothing.

I’m sensing some actual juicy lore here…

“Let us make camp,” Klax said, producing a bundle of firewood from his pack and beginning the process of getting a fire going. “If we can take turns keeping watch, we can make sure the safe zone is not violated. Though these spots are normally peaceful, one never can know if another Delving party decides to come along and violate this sanctuary.”

“That happens?” Ethan asked.

“It is not outside the realms of possibility.”

“Nothin’ really is in good old Argwyll, Ethan!” Tara beamed. “Ain’t your Earth the same way?”

“‘My Earth’ was more boring than anything you could imagine,” Ethan replied with a chuckle. But his demon eye was focused not on Tara as the flappy beak of his host said these words. Instead, it was rooted squarely on Fauna, and how she simply stared forward into the fire that was slowly starting to take shape beneath Klax’s hands.

…Yeah, Ethan thought. This world is way more interesting.

Current Spirit Cores: 120

As the hours droned on, Ethan found that he couldn’t sleep. He decided to take up watch when the seventh hour came along, as this would give him time to make any skill improvements with his new bundle of Cores.

Sure, I could save up and get another grade in one of my [Hat] skills, but who wants to be a bore? I ain’t gonna just save up points and then never end up using them. Besides, who knows what kinda hell’s waiting below. Klax says there’s at least two more floors to go, and I’m betting there’s a nice, very possessable Boss monster just waiting for me on the last one…

Ethan decided then and there that his best chance at survival would be prioritizing the Dark Raven skills that he would be transferring to whatever new host he acquired. And that meant he really had two choices: Wing Buffet, Peck, or Dive.

Spirit Cores Required to Increase [Dark Raven] Skills from Grade F-E: 80

Grade E-D: 120

I’ve already got a handle on Dive… and Peck just seems like a basic attack. Wing Buffet for sure seems the more useful skill. I mean… if I’m gonna take Dive with me to my next host, I’m gonna need wings to make proper use of it. And it’s another form of crowd control for when Roar’s on its cooldown.

Wing-Buffet (Grade F)

Your wings flap up a storm, {Repelling} any foes with STR lower than 15 away up to 20ft.

(Grade E)

[Repulsion Increase]

You now {Repel} any foes with STR lower than 25 away up to 50ft.

Spirit Core Cost to Upgrade: 80

Confirm Upgrade?

Ethan needed no further prompting. Peck was basically a waste. His wings were this creature’s strength, and if he could take it to another, he was gonna make sure they were powered up.

Upgrade confirmed

Wing-Buffet (Grade E)

Current Spirit Cores: 40

Have to remember to keep a good Core surplus… otherwise I won’t be able to possess the big bastard down under…

Always thinking ahead, just like your predecessors.

This bodes well for you.

Of course. Sys was the System of all the other Archons, right? Ethan wondered if there was a way to break through the [CLASSIFIED] records Sys kept throwing up when he asked a question about them. Then again, maybe Sys had blanks when it came to the previous Archons. After all, all their info and memories would be just too much of an advantage, right? And Sys didn’t seem interested in giving him more advantages than he had…

He decided to turn his attention from Sys to the stirring rabbit girl who he suddenly found sitting up, staring once again into the little bonfire they were huddled around.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked her.

She glanced up at him as though surprised he had noticed her and gave a wet sniff of the chamber’s stagnant air.

“Am I bothering you, Ethan?”

“What? No! I just meant—well—I thought it seemed like you kinda had something on your mind earlier.”

She returned her gaze to the flames, though she did manage to beam a brief smile.

“Yes… maybe I do.”

When she said nothing else, Ethan wasn’t sure what else to say. But he knew he couldn't just let this silence last.

Go on, Sir Archon. Show me just how good of an orator you can be.

Sys… I’m gonna need some free headspace right now, ‘kay?

He sidled up beside Fauna while she hugged her knees, eyes still staring blankly.

“You know…” he began—his three eyes watching her from their corners. “That was a pretty awesome spell you just pulled off outside.”

She looked up with confusion, the light of the bonfire’s embers dancing in her eyes.

“‘Awesome’?”

“Y’know—cool. Epic. Super. You were like a… super bunny girl.”

Eloquent.

You are a natural-born [Poet].

What did I just tell you!?

Fauna burst out laughing before Sys could make another quip, giggling lightly so she didn’t wake their slumbering comrades.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “You… you aren’t what I expected the Archon to be.”

“Yeah, the rest of them weren’t devilishly handsome hats, eh?”

She sniggered. “The rest of them didn’t really ask us how we felt about… all this. We all followed them because the humans hated us. But we couldn’t say no even if we wanted to.”

Ethan cocked his feathery brow at the girl.

“How can you say no… when all your species thinks the same way?”

She trailed off before realizing exactly what she’d said.

“S-sorry! I’m rambling. I—um—f-forget all that, I just—”

Ethan held up a wing. “We’re a team now, y’know,” he winked. “And I’m still a newbie to this world. I wanna know what you think.”

“I’m not so special, Ethan,” Fauna replied in barely a murmur. “I’m just another hybrid who lost everything during the… the purges.”

“Purges?”

“It was after the last Archon fell,” she explained slowly, eyes re-focused on the crackling bonfir...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Sensitive_Taste8785 on 2024-10-29 15:50:40+00:00.

Captain Lanius’s Log

Mission Entry: Galactic Calendar 10987

Our vessel, Fate Seeker, represented the dawn of a new era for our species. We had prepared for this momentous leap into Faster-Than-Light travel, braving unknown realms, as we hoped to find what lay beyond our corner of the galaxy.

The countdown began, and anticipation surged.

3… 2… 1…

A sudden flash, then silence, stretched as far as I could sense. I believed we’d failed, left adrift in the void, but when the viewscreen cleared, what we saw defied belief.

Where the emptiness of space should have been, there now stretched an immense, gleaming structure that seemed to reach across the stars, its scale impossible to comprehend. It stretched thousands of kilometers in each direction, a vast, shining form suspended in the heavens, radiating a gentle yet piercing light that seemed woven from stardust itself. Though it emitted no discernible signal, its presence alone commanded reverence.

As we stood transfixed, a voice filled our comms calm, clear, yet filled with undeniable authority.

“Welcome, travelers,” it said in our own tongue. “You have arrived at Sol. Your journey has brought you to the place prepared for your kind.”

The voice introduced itself as Elise, her words resonating with a calm that was neither boastful nor welcoming, simply matter of fact. She invited us to dock. To meet a civilization capable of summoning us here… there was no question. We accepted.

We docked in one of Sol Station’s bays, where a radiant figure awaited us, a woman named Elise. She appeared nearly ethereal, clothed in a shimmering, almost primitive garment that caught the light with a crystalline gleam, as if it contained light itself. Her expression was one of gentle curiosity, her presence vast yet deeply personal, as though the very universe attended her.

She gestured for us to follow, her voice calm and resonant. “Come,” she said, “I’ll show you Sol.”

Every corridor, lined with crystalline walls, displayed wonders we could scarcely comprehend: trillions upon trillions of lives contained on the blue planet below, Earth. But Elise explained this existence was far from how we imagined. The humans, she said, had transcended normal boundaries, occupying vast realms hidden within Earth itself, billions of planes layered within its familiar form.

“How could such a thing be?” I asked, my mind grappling with the scope of her words.

“Humanity’s path brought us beyond physical limits. Now, we strive not to shape others’ journeys but to prepare for them. We left these spaces across galaxies, prepared for the day when new life could rise.”

It was as if every empty region in the stars, every silent zone we’d puzzled over, had been left intentionally, meticulously curated to ensure new species their own space to thrive.

“And you... have created planets, whole systems even, ready for others?”

Her nod was a confirmation. “For thousands of years, we’ve held this purpose. We’ve moved stars and worlds to make space for civilizations yet to come. This universe holds many places for others like you, untouched by time, but guarded from those who would take it all.”

The notion of a civilization with the power to reshape stars and galaxies, to place worlds as guardians for the future… it left me speechless. To think we were here, among beings who had battled across stars and galaxies to preserve this chance, this sliver of space and time for others.

We walked in reverent silence before I dared to ask my next question.

“You speak of… purposes and long ages. Tell me, how does it end? Is it the heat death we fear, or the Big Rip?”

Elise paused, her gaze distant, almost wistful. “You needn’t worry,” she said, “its not going to happen anymore. We made sure of that.”

I blinked, disbelief rendering me momentarily mute. “What…?”

“Yes,” she replied, her tone calm yet resonant, as if carrying the weight of a thousand forgotten eons. “We already stopped it.”

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KhornFlaex on 2024-10-29 12:51:23+00:00.

He peeked out for a split-second, only to immediately back away when multiple projectiles flew way too close to his face. At least a dozen more iron bolts crashed near the edges of the rock he was hiding behind. The message was clear: "you shall not pass." He cursed. Nothing he could really do but comply. The company had been ambushed as it was moving up the river, towards the entrance to city-5. A sizeable group of infantry started shooting at them from the forest to the left six minutes prior. The bastards somehow managed to elude the scouting force entirely, which was now stranded and surrounded. The tanks had to hide inside the water after anti-armour rockets started flying, and the gunners found themselves unable to fire back.

What a dumb situation. One hundred and sixty men, doing their best to find some cover in the rocky and uneven terrain of the riverside. Twenty more clutching to their lives in the thick fungal undergrowth, completely surrounded by the enemy. The grim train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a soldier beside him, sliding into cover behind his same rock. The IFF immediately recognised her as the captain of the eighth company. She fired a short burst into the bushes, showing far more courage than him, before staring him down.

"Where is your squad, sergeant?" "Scattered, ma'am." "You wounded?" "No, ma'am." "Then get up and follow me. We must get to the higher ground." He scoffed. "Pointless. We're not making it without some heavy fire support."

She looked like she was about to reply, but didn't. As the adrenaline wore off just enough she realised the same thing: they were currently powerless. She cursed, and switched the radio to the global company channel. "Sit tight everyone. I'm requesting orbital support."

As the battle raged below, above it was unnervingly quiet. Radio chatter was low. Each one of the bright, dagger-like ships was busy making all sorts of checks and tests, ensuring the full combat capability of the vessel. The atmosphere was tense, each member of the numerous crews hiding the stress of the upcoming battle behind a cold, professional attitude.

"Turret gimbal test." "Testing."

The admiral spoke with authority and confidence. He was a veteran, having fought some of the most hellish engagements against the Centaurs. His crew, however, was not. The technicians and pilots of the Nile were mostly academy-fresh. Same with the rest of the sixth fleet. The Centaur war took a heavy toll on the fleet and FPAO alike, and the Federation had not yet fully recovered. This made the current war even more of a folly.

"Turret test is green, weapon coverage optimal." "Good. Proceed-" "Admiral?" Admiral Robinson hated to be interrupted, but it was the comms officer who spoke. "What is it?" "Incoming from the surface. It's the eighth company." "Open the channel."

There were no introductions or formalities. "We need orbital support." "Denied." "...What?" "The fleet is out of range, and preparing to engage the enemy in space combat. We cannot afford to move any ships into low orbit at the moment." "We're getting torn apart!" "Complain with HQ. Robinson out." "Fucking-"

He sighed. What he just did was horrible, yes, but he had no choice. The only thing he could do now was win this battle fast and see if there were any survivors on the surface. Although winning would be less than easy. The geo-stat probes had detected the remaining neuvean fleet in orbit around the homeworld on an interception course with the fifth federation fleet. All good so far. Until an entire battlegroup who no-one knew existed worm-holed seventy-thousand kilometres above the planet (a desperate move, no doubt, as that was hardly a safe distance for an interstellar jump), and moved to reinforce the defence fleet. The fifth called for backup, and the sixth answered.

"Admiral, all ships are reporting. The fifth fleet is hailing us." "Open channel." "Robinson. Good to have you with us." "Likewise, Harun. We'll support you from a lower altitude, as agreed." "Yes. Just keep in mind, siege ship Aurelian is open and exposed. If things get bad, we expect you to take point and protect the asset." "Of course. A siege ship is too valuable."

The Nile's radar officer interrupted the two admirals. "Neuvean defence fleet inside weapons range in five minutes. High-orbit battlegroup is descending fast, will be in range in eight." "Very well, we are ready. Harun, we'll support you. Good luck." "Got it, Robinson. Good luck."

And the radio went silent. Robinson took three long breaths, and lowered the visor on his face. Then, the cables connected to the back of his skull. As soon as he opened his eyes, he was floating in space, his body transformed into the smooth and thick hull of the Nile. Data was flowing all around him, orbital vectors, radar feedback, weapon status, engine throttle and, most importantly for him, fleet report. His officers and the pilot were with him, thanks to the shared neural link. When in full combat mode, the bridge crew and the ship become a single organism, their single minds, experience and expertise working in absolute unison with the assistance of the powerful shipboard computer. With the neural link, giving orders and their execution becomes a matter of milliseconds.

"Three minutes to contact." The radar officer did not speak, but Robinson understood nonetheless. Forty-two vessels in the defence fleet, seventy-one in the surprise battlegroup. The latter was three minutes late. This could be exploited, as the single fleet was nearly outnumbered two-to-one on its own. All combined, however, the Federation was severely outgunned. Robinson spent a few seconds looking at the menacing radar blips of the approaching armada before starting to give orders.

"Close heat panels." "Closing."

The enemy was just doing the same. One after the other, the enemy's heat signatures disappeared into nothing. From now on, only radar could be relied upon.

"Arrange ships to face the minor fleet." "Engaging vector thrusters..."

The massive battlecruiser moved, pivoting around its center of mass, in order to show its sharp edges and tip to the enemy. This was the optimal angle to engage. The other ships in the battle formation followed the example. A hundred-kilometre wide field of shining white-grey arrowheads, all pointing towards a still invisible enemy. The distance was still too great to spot the long, dark ships with the naked eye. Still, an awe-inspiring sight.

"One minute."

Robinson took one, last deep breath, knowing full well it could be his last. Space warfare is cruel, brutal, and impersonal. Each ship down could very well mean the loss of dozens of lives, but it's easy to forget when you're in the midst of the firestorm. In the next few minutes, hundreds would die.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Load missiles."

Massive motors whirred to life, moving the twenty-metre long vectors at blistering speed inside the depressurised bowels of the ship. Deadly warheads were hastily screwed on top, before getting unceremoniously slammed into the firing port. And the ship was quiet again. Waiting.

"Contact in thirty..."

Time seemed to slow down. For Robinson, this was by far the most unnerving part of any battle. The uncertainty of the first moments, wondering who would win, lose, live or die. Life hanging by a thread. Any missile, bolt or random piece of debris could spell his demise. His, and everyone else's.

"Ten seconds..."

"Five..."

"In range!" "Fire!"

In a split-second, almost a hundred magnetic rail-launchers ejected the thick spears of doom into the cold void. As soon as they were a hundred metres away from the ships their massive liquid-fuel boosters turned on with what would have been a booming roar, were they not in space. A maddening acceleration, and they were gone, too far to be recognised if not for the bright plume of their engines.

In another circumstance, the admiral would have preferred to carefully test the enemy's defences with some probing attacks. But not today. This battle was a race against time. Both for the second incoming fleet, and the two hundred humans who desperately needed help from above.

The missiles from the fifth fleet joined the mad race, adding up to just below two hundred warheads. Halfway to their destination, the opposing sides' weapons crossed each other. Heat sensors went berserk, IFF systems marking absolutely anything vaguely unknown as hostile; PD turrets began tracking their targets with an uncanny, mechanical focus. Rangefinders counting down, not the time, but the distance; in a few seconds, they were past the fifty-kilometre mark.

Hundreds of guns started firing into the void. Thousands of aluminum casings ejected in less than a second, barrels spinning and smoking, the stream of bullets tracing long, bright beams into the night. Dozens of high-end quantum computers were directing the astonishing wall of armour-piercing projectiles, calculating, analysing, predicting and optimising. Tens of missiles were utterly obliterated, engines destroyed, leaking fuel, crushing themselves under their own acceleration as soon as the supporting structure's integrity was compromised.

Almost every missile was neutralised, their broken bodies drifting past the fleet, into some random orbit, where they would remain for the next several millennia. Almost every missile. Four got through. They smashed into the ships, sinking slightly into the hull, before detonating their four-hundred kiloto...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SSBAlienNation on 2024-10-29 11:24:20+00:00.

All Chapters of Alien-Nation

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5:30 P.M. EST

Steps Toward Tomorrow

[This takes place right after the meeting with Amilita, before he sees Natalie.]

Bancroft Base had a few more people in it than before I'd left. Either word had already gotten out, or the teams in question had been told to rally back there.

"Meeting," I called out, waving the inner circle forward. Even Vaughn trotted along, dressed once more in his Vendetta coat and mask, though unarmed. When Gavin and Sullivan hung back, I waved each of them in, too. I didn't want our new associates left out in the cold- and then I saw Maize, arms crossed, and glaring daggers at Vendetta from behind her glasses. I pointed at her, too.

"What's the deal?" Sullivan asked, glaring and following in Sam's wake.

"Well, simple enough," I answered. "We've won."

"We?" He asked bitterly. "All I got told was that we were releasing the hostages. All of 'em."

"We've been waiting on them for a year," Maize said, sounding a little offended.

"Yeah..." I trailed off. "Let's just say I used them to leverage a ceasefire. One massively in our favor."

Everyone reacted differently. Radio cheered. G-Man was his usual 'wait-and-see' self. Vaughn shook his head, making the chainmail of his mask shake and quiver- and it was probable he was trying to capitalize on Sullivan and Gavin's sentiment, which looked downright mutinous, while Maize and Sam just seemed shell shocked.

I motioned to the empty storage units.

"Alright. Tell me your problems. Go ahead, because I promise you there's more to this."

"We didn't step out of the shadows and pull strings just for you to immediately sell out," Gavin sounded no less angry. "Boss- we should-"

"Should what? Little fucker already got our other asset." Sullivan grumbled. "He's the only real game in town, unless you wanna roll the dice on Jester."

Gavin shook his head mutely, but he didn't look happy. At least they hadn't started shooting.

"Ceasefire, huh? How are you gonna enforce that?" Vaughn stepped in before I could ask what they'd meant. He seemed like he'd finally had enough of being conspicuously ignored and passed over. I guessed he didn't care, knowing what was going to happen to him regardless. "What about cells who think they're gonna take a shot at the Shil' anyways?" He asked loudly. "You think they're gonna just sit there and take it when the Shil'vati do something wrong? You're gonna what, hand 'em back over to the Shil'vati, like a fucking traitor?"

There was a Roman Emperor, once, who had suffered a similar problem as Amilita was staring down. Valentinian had secured the border with the marauding Goths and secured a truce. Only for small bands to immediately begin sacking villas.

Furious, Valentinian had the Gothic leaders dragged before him- only to find out the raids had started without any kind of order, and the Gothic leaders were powerless to stop their own people from doing things on their own initiative, if they didn't even know it was happening. Valentinian apparently got so angry at them he'd died of an aneurysm.

I happened to like Amilita a fair bit more than the Goths liked Valentinian. She'd been kind to me, and at least tried to understand humanity.

Besides, there was another angle I hoped to play- one that I needed to keep Amilita ignorant of if this was going to work.

I supposed he had a point. I let him rant at me with complete calm, because I had an answer ready.

"You think you'll survive that?" He hissed, when I didn't respond. Even G-Man seemed curious to know how I'd answer.

"Bad for business," Sam muttered. Maize said nothing, her case already made.

"Listen." I said, holding up a finger and waiting until I felt the tension rise. "Delaware has won. The war is over and a ceasefire agreed to, in Delaware." I slowly, almost theatrically turned on my heel to Gavin and Sullivan. "Now, weren't you two just telling me a couple hours ago how Maryland's gone from Red to Yellow? And I do believe before the battle of Camp Death, we were just about to launch ourselves over the border, weren't we?" I motioned to Radio for confirmation, without bothering to check if he gave it before turning back to the spymaster. Sullivan looked ready to blow a gasket until I added: "So, what about opening new fronts in Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, and Virginia? All at the same time. And having Delaware as a safe haven for all our operations, where the Shil'vati don't dare to fuck with either us, or the terms of this peace."

Now everyone stared at me in silence for a few seconds. I could hear the roar of the Brandywine river tumbling over the old mill's shattered dam.

"What?" Radio finally asked.

"Think about it! We get a whole state for a base of operations. The Shil'vati call it the 'Delaware Ceasefire.' Humanity might call it the 'Delaware Accords.' I call it: 'Don't Shit Where You Eat'." I waved at Maize and was careful with my wording. "We get a safe haven to operate and plan from, while we carry the fight to every adjacent state and turn them scarlet. Meanwhile, here we put in training grounds, armories, storage facilities, recruitment, logistics, shipping, all of it out of the enemy's reach. We can transit through here between fronts, even. Form squads, train officers. The works."

"They won't stand for that, will they?" Gavin asked. "They're all part of the same fleet. The Admiral can probably just order her to stab us in the back."

"Yeah, sure- they break the truce and turn Delaware Red again, overnight. They'll be shown as cowards who couldn't beat us any other way- and we'll make them pay dearly for it by the time the issue comes to a head. You think they'll get loyalists to show up for anything after that? They already threw a bunch of them to the wolves once. Besides- this area's technically under civilian governance, not military jurisdiction. Amilita's also acting as Governess, at least until the new one gets here. Then when she does, whoever she is, she'll be thanking her lucky stars she doesn't have to deal with a state that's on fire anymore- and has a General who brokered the truce and takes all the flak for the agreement. That's why Azraea took both roles- she didn't want to answer to anyone. The state's technically under civilian jurisdiction, and has been since the war ended and whenever a Governess arrived."

"How'd she pull that off if she's a commoner?"

"Guess Military rank matters for a lot," I shrugged. "But from what I understand of the Shil'vati, this will work."

"What do they get from not backstabbing us on this peace deal?"

"Think about it. They get Delaware Green- which their new Governess is going to want, badly. Remember that one we ousted- Bal'Shir? She kept the state Green even after we knifed down her predecessor in her own mansion, in the middle of the military base. Why? Because it was good for tourism and collecting bribes to let people down here. The Shil'vati want this peace, badly, and they were willing to give up a lot for it. All kinds of cultural wins. They'll recognize human customs, traditions, elections- they'll even let us walk around with masks on and certify the elections! We've got something money can't buy. We've just gotten legitimacy."

Sullivan blinked a few times, and let the cigarette dangle down a bit. "Well," he said hoarsely before coughing. "I suppose."

Gavin looked thoughtful, too. "Training grounds would be good."

"How would Miskatonic like proper facilities for cellular research set somewhere in Delaware?" I turned to Gavin. "Somewhere the power's on all the time, where you don't have to look over your shoulder?"

Then I turned to Vaughn- and skipped him. Who cared about a dead man's opinion? My eyes settled on George.

"We knock over these other states, too- what's in them? Maryland and Virginia, and then-"

"-And then we've got Washington D.C. in a pincer." George said with some satisfaction.

"We can besiege it," I agreed. "One at a time, we start flipping states, forcing the Governesses and Generals to deal with us- and recognize human power, self-governance. To recognize us. Think of what it'd mean to the country if the Shil' lost D.C. They can't bury that, and can't bury us anymore. We can grow, and keep growing."

Sullivan was nodding along now. "Alright."

'Alright'? I thought it was a really good idea!

"The war's not over. It's just beginning. But for Delaware?" I laughed. "Well, we've gotta keep this place perfect. No more strikes on Delaware soil. It has to be the carrot we dangle in front of them for cooperation. In the meantime, we beat the aliens and their collaborators with enough sticks in every other state they'll beg us for peace."

"They're gonna play dirty when they figure out what you're up to."

"Let them try," I said. "They betray our deal, every inch of the state burns, from Carpenter's Crossing to Fenwick. In the meantime we'll have gotten a head start in organizing ourselves in several more states. Think about it- Azraea arrested a lot of our guys, sent them to their prisons to rub elbows with other insurgents. We couldn't have asked ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/GeneralLeia-SAOS on 2024-10-29 09:58:25+00:00.

1st Lieutenant Manuel Ortega Rodriguez knew he was going to get into trouble, but this would be worth it. He had always been a good marine until now, but there was too much at stake.

His best friend, Marco, was killed 6 months ago when their battalion had been foolishly ordered to establish a post in the Skrizzit system. There was a lot of bitter blood between Earth and the insectoid Skrizzit, and the only possible winning strategy would be complete genocide. But idiot politicians and bootlicker generals, more concerned with their careers than their men, decided that sending a battalion would be sufficient, to test the situation.

Unfortunately for the battalion, the Skrizzit were much smarter than the politicians and boot lickers. They hit the battalion and support fleet fast during the attempted landing. Marines were jumping out of flight craft in their power suits, charged up and ready, or so they thought. During the free fall towards the ground, Marco had been hit, with one leg completely missing and another partially gone. Manuel had also been hit, but it was his landing and maneuvering rockets. As he started to deadfall, his training kicked in. His grandfather had emphasized the importance of training, otra vez, otra vez, otra vez, so that when real calamity happened, when your brain panicked and shut down, your training took over.

Marcos legs were gone, but his power suit still had rockets. Manuel used the free fall training to aim himself to intercept Marco while tucking in his limbs to reduce drag. His heart was beating so fast he couldn’t feel the individual beats, just a huge pressure in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was sweating; the wind was so fast as he fell that it instantly dried any moisture. As Manuel fell to Marco dangerously fast, he held his breath. It was too fast. They were going to collide and surely perish.

BAM! They did collide with a deafening crunch. Manuel realized that during the fall, he had activated the magnetic interlocks on his power suit, so that when he hit Marco, their suits automatically aligned. Technically, Marco should have been given command of their combined unit because he was higher ranking, but med sensors on his suit showed his distress so that command was given to Manuel.

He was able to slow their descent to avoid a fatal crash, for himself at least. Marco wasn’t so lucky. The impact aggravated further injuries even more. Marcos face was bashed and bloody, his breathing ragged, and the med sensors on the power suit screeched, desperately trying to save him. Marco choked out, coughing blood, “Take care of Rosario and…” a final cough that spit blood on Manuel’s face and his eyes glassed over. Marco was dead.

Manuel punched the termination sequence activator on Marcos suit. A black box released and a self destruct countdown started. Earthforce power suits were legendary, and self destruct was installed into all of them to prevent enemy acquisition and reverse engineering. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to prevent tears. Then he ran.

The forest he landed in was sparse, having suffered decades of ecological damage when voracious non-indigenous species had been introduced. He wondered if it was his destiny to die here, in some sort of cosmic retribution scheme. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to cooperate.

He encountered a few Skrizzits here and there, both instantly shooting to kill on sight. He was able to rob a corpse of a weapon and a few explosives. They were the best of luck. He would shoot somewhat haphazardly with the weapon. Skrizzit would reveal themselves, thinking it one of their own, then Manuel took them out.

He passed a couple other Marines, who had perished in the fall down. He removed their black boxes and set the self destructs. The broken bodies and bloody faces were a horror, but the most nightmarish thing he saw was a rabbit. It was chewing on the corpse of a marine, looking painfully emaciated. It was rumored that rabbits that were hungry enough would actually resort to scavenging, and it certainly was true. He debated shooting the rabbit, but didn’t want the noise to draw attention. The decision was made for him when a mangy emaciated coyote pounced on the rabbit, so hungry that it was trying to eat the rabbit before it died. Manuel recorded which man it was, then flung a Skrizzit explosive at the marine. The Coyote would undoubtedly want to feast on the marine as well, and if it were in a pack, Manuel would also be in serious danger of attack.

While Manuel felt no pity for the Skrizzit he killed, he was horrified by the condition of the animals. Skrizzit had launched an unprovoked attack on Argentina when he was a boy. He could still remember it vividly. So in retaliation, the greatest general in Earths history, MORI, had retaliated. He had brought hundreds of thousands of the most invasive animal species Earth had to offer, and dumped them on Skrizzit to destroy their ecology. It worked, this planet was still a barren wasteland. Occasionally a do good faction would get support to try a humanitarian mission to Skrizzit, and they were always met with hostility.

Manuel made it to the rally point and saw Skrizzit waiting in ambush. It was only 100 meters to safety, but the Skrizzit would pick him off. He backtracked around them. He crawled out of his power suit. He grabbed a pack, put all the black boxes in, including his own and whatever explosives he could. He set the self destruct timer on his suit, then ran the furthest distance he could from the suit within range. Once he was at his designated spot he fired Earth and Skrizzit weapons towards the suit. The noise and impacts got the attention of the Skrizzit so they went to see. Manuel was able to pick off a couple, then the suit exploded. That was that.

He went to to the precise rally point and waited. He noticed that nearby Skrizzit all went to check the area where his power suit had been blown to modern art, but ignored him. That may be valuable information; Skrizzit seemed better at tracking human power suits than just humans.

As the copter craft descended to the rally point, marines in power suits emerged from the woods, followed by Skrizzit in hot pursuit. Manuel took a partially concealed position, using the stolen Skrizzit weapon to shoot as much as possible. The ruse worked; the Skrizzit seemed to think they were mistakenly being hit by friendly fire that missed the marines.

Landing was too risky for the copter, so it dropped monkey lines to retrieve marines. The power suits had a magnetic grappler so that the lines could instantly pull them up into the copter. Manuel shouted at the marines attaching themselves to cables, so they would know there was still an unsuited man, ie a man without a location status beacon. Manuel continued to provide cover fire, until the copter signaled it was time for him to grab a line and retreat if possible.

He tossed the remaining explosives he had toward what he thought was the main Skrizzit group. He holstered the Skrizzit weapon and pulled his firearm weapon.

Many worlds had tried to get human firearms banned under the Galactic laws of warfare for being a very ugly and brutal inflicter of death. Surprisingly, the best argument that Earthgov had for maintaining the legality of kinetic firearms was the low environmental impact. They didn’t have the dangerous effects of energy pulses, chemical weapons, biohazards, radiation, structural and tectonic instability of sub sonic weapons, radiation or a variety of other environmental hazards. Firearms simply made things bleed and die.

He wrapped the monkey line around his left arm and through his legs. As he was one of the last men, the copter began to take off, while the retrieval switch for the line was activated. Dear God! He thought it was going to tear his arm out. He howled and sprayed the ground under him with bullets. He saw a couple Skrizzit get hit. He used all of his concentration to shoot below him so he would avoid hitting another marine, as he felt like his arm was being yanked out of his body. He felt the pain through his shoulder, neck, ribs, chest, and back. The Skrizzits attempted to return fire, and he was grazed a couple times. That just added to the agony.

Back on the transport, he saw men fainting from pain and envied them. His left side was immobilized and he was given minimal pain medication so he could be coherent enough to be debriefed. It seemed he had lost count of how many black boxes he grabbed, which turned out to be 12, with the box from his suit being 13. He had also provided cover fire for 12 other marines to get retrieved by the copter, so he was the 13th man into the vehicle. The story seemed a little fantastic until the black boxes from all the power suits were reviewed. As it turned out, the Skrizzit weapon and an unused explosive were unfamiliar designs, so they were very valuable to Earthforce intelligence.

He healed remarkably well from his injuries, even though he spent most of the voyage back to Earth in a med gel tank. A Templar chaplain came to talk to him. He was older, on the verge of retirement. He smiled softly at Manuel, “Your grandfather initiated me into the Templars. You would do him proud.” Manuel and the chaplain exchanged several stories, a few of which straightened out some rather entertaining rumors.

As the ship was approaching Earth, Manuel spoke to his commanding officer. He asked to be part of the bereavement detail to...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ashfx321 on 2024-10-29 09:04:27+00:00.

The pirates have been harassing the Western Fringes long before the Terrans became an associate member of the Federation. Their quick and shameless raiding parties struck the barely defended outer colonies, wreaked havoc on the towns and cities, and they left with plunder and slaves before the slow-moving colossus of the Federation Navy could respond. In the grand scheme of things, as seen from the Core Worlds, they were merely an annoyance, so the noble hall of the Senate did not bother to stop them. Those who moved to the Western Fringes knew the risks, they argued. And so the raiders, the Gron’Karan did their dirty business mostly unpunished.

Though not all the Federation leadership, military and political alike, were satisfied with the status quo. A group of young fleet commanders, under the leadership of Captain Tavass, formed the core of a new unit, a small but quick response force that could react in time to the threat posed by the pirates. An ambitious senator supported their idea, and after the appropriate amount of debates, compromises, and table-pounding, the new task force was officially established.

Tavass hand-picked his soldiers, he chose the most experienced of the volunteers, members of species that had millennia-long military traditions. And he was mighty annoyed when the Senate forced him to take on some of those upstart Terrans. They only achieved faster-than-light travel a few decades ago, what could they possibly know of modern warfare? But he had no choice in the matter, so the Terrans, a rowdy company of marines joined his retinue. It was a small solace that they did not bring their own ships, Tavass thought, those sorry excuses of space crafts would have slowed him down too much.

Their first mission came when the Gron’Karan struck the remote colony of Selan 7. The early warning system, a pair of frigates sent word to Tavass and fought a retreating battle before escaping the overwhelming force of the attackers. The relief arrived at the best possible moment, catching the pirates with their pants down. The raiding parties were already on the surface, and they had no time to pull back before the Federation fleet swept away their vessels.

Tavass decided to lead the ground attack himself, eager to strike back at the Gron’Karan.

"What about the Terrans, sir?" His second-in-command asked, and the captain groaned.

"Are they at least armed properly?"

"No sir, they still have their gunpowder-based weapons."

Tavass pinched the scales above his nose. Gunpowder, what a joke, what’s next, trebuchets? He finally sighed.

"A platoon of them will join us in a support role. Maybe they will pick up a thing or two about modern warfare. But make them understand, that they are reserves and observers, they are not to interfere with my operation."

The plummet to the surface was fast and uneventful, the Gron’Karan could not set up proper countermeasures before the Federation troops were on them. The fighting was the fiercest in one of the suburbs of the main settlement of the planet. Thankfully, the locals ran to the shelters at the first sight of danger.

Tavass aimed his plasma rifle and sent a deathly salvo at an overly reckless pirate. It burned a hole through his head, and the captain pulled back to safety before his enemies could answer.

"Sir, there are too many of them, they are flanking us," an officer warned.

She was right, the raiders had more troops on the ground than expected, and they were using this to their advantage. The Federation soldiers fought valiantly, their carefully aimed shots rang out often, and the best among them could even fire twelve rounds a minute. Still, it just wasn’t enough.

"Pull back, and call in the bloody Terrans! If nothing else, the primitives can buy us a little time."

The Federation forces retreated to an elevated position, to a small hill with a good view of the battlefield. The Terrans joined them, led by an officer. He saluted the captain.

"Lieutenant Jackson sir, reporting for duty!"

Tavass looked over the Terran, then pointed at the approaching Gron’Karan. They were gaining ground, slowly getting closer to the Federation positions.

"You see them? Open fire and try not to kill the rest of us while you are at it!" He said as he shot another raider.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" The Terran officer grinned. "Alright boys, light ‘em up!"

The Terrans took up their positions and aimed their guns. A pair of two marines even brought a larger weapon, which was probably an anti-tank gun, judging by the size. Jackson, still grinning turned to his commander.

"Sir, I would cover my ears if I were you."

The Terrans opened fire and rained hundreds of tiny bullets at their enemies. Every second, that is. The Gron’Karan were stopped in their tracks, dozens fell to the ground lifeless or wounded, and the Terran weaponry chewed through even the walls. The marines then let out a loud "oorah" and charged at their enemies, in such a fast and disciplined manner that utterly stunned Tavass. These rowdy soldiers, these almost children turned into perfect killing machines on the field of battle.

The bulk of the surviving Gron’Karan surrendered after experiencing the deadly superiority of Terran weaponry, not wishing to taste the bite of the small metal bullets. The Terrans themselves suffered only two injuries, a marine sprained his ankle while running down the hill, and another suffered a nasty cut from a broken window.

The grinning officer returned to Tavass with the prisoners in tow.

"This was faster than expected sir, the boys are a little disappointed," he said.

Tavass stared at him, then at the once tidy suburb that was now torn apart by the Terran armaments. For millennia, Federation doctrine promoted elite marksmanship, encouraging the soldiers to aim well and not waste their shots. The Terrans on the other hand made the entire battlefield their target.

Lieutenant Jackson touched his earpiece. His commander, who observed the battle from orbit asked for a status report.

"Sir, we are finished, we will be home by dinner."

"What about our new friends?" The Terran commander asked, his voice was a distorted rattle through the radio. The lieutenant grinned even wider.

"They are still trying to pick up their jaws from the floor."

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/vehino on 2024-10-29 08:30:41+00:00.

First Previous Royal Road

Chapter Theme: Hey Man (Now You're Really Living)

Chapter 38.

With Due Respect.

The girl’s name was Emily Norus, and I got to learn more about her over the course of an early lunch. So much more. Once I got past her initial shyness, I quickly discovered that the girl was a bit of a talker, and her favorite topic of discussion was herself.

Strangely, however, her self-absorption wasn’t without its charm. Although the girl was certainly vainglorious, she was still pleasant to be around and gracious to others when she could be cajoled into paying attention to them. 

There was a solid core of good-natured sweetness at Emily’s center.  It’s just that it was coated in a thick sediment of spoiled obliviousness that made it difficult for her to fathom that the people around her might not be as interested in her life as she assumed they were. It was an endearing sort of obliviousness when taken in small measurements.

As it turned out, she was slightly older than Kyler Evans and had been returning from a year of studying abroad in the Ethos Kingdom when her caravan had been assaulted.

It felt unpleasant knowing that the attack that had nearly seen Emily violated and murdered had been arranged by Jamie. The thought that one woman would knowingly profit from the horrific degradation of another was a stark reminder of humanity’s capacity for darkness.  If mankind’s potential for greatness was without limit, so too was its capacity for selfishness and depravity.

I didn’t want to think about Jamie anymore, nor did I want to listen to Lady Emily’s chatter.  So, I instead focused on the sushi that had been prepared for us.

I wish I could say that in the months since I regained the ability to eat human food, I had gradually learned self-restraint and to slowly savor a meal. But the reality was that I was still a shameless glutton who easily lost himself to the pleasure of mindless consumption. When the tray of rolls was presented to us, I happily grabbed two massive handfuls of rice and tuna and stuffed them blissfully into my face.

By the hungering dark, Sushi was so good. Eating it was like living out the lyrics to that old Eels song that went, Hey, man.  Now you’re really living! Sadly, my companions didn’t seem to share in my enjoyment of the meal.

Around the table, the girls stared at me while wearing expressions which ranged from disgust to surprise and every other emotion in between.  Even Rachel seemed embarrassed by me, which felt a little hurtful.

“It’s good,” I said as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

It really was.

Goodness, they were drilling holes into me with their eyes.

Before the conversation could spiral into any further awkwardness, a sharply dressed young man in white, wearing a set of black horn-rimmed glasses appeared out of nowhere and quietly informed us that the Regent would see me now.

When I say this man appeared out of nowhere, I meant it literally.  In the space of a moment while my attention was occupied by the Regent’s granddaughter, he was suddenly there.  It was a bewildering moment to be sure. No one likes being sneaked up on, much less me, a being whose refined senses should have made it impossible to be surprised, even while wearing his humble human form.

I instantly disliked this fellow.

“If you’ll come with me, Mr. Evans,” he said in a pleasant monotone as he gestured for me to follow. “My name is Tybalt Brask, the hand of the Regent.  I’m so very pleased to meet you.”

“And I am Kyler—” I began to say before he cut me off.

“Yes, Kyler Evans, I’m aware,” he said with the smallest hint of impatience.  “No need for an introduction of your own.  Let’s be on our way.”

“Brother, there was no need for you to collect the Regent’s guest personally,” Alvidia said with surprising nervousness, as Cross stood beside her and nodded quickly in flustered embarrassment. “I’m sure you have more important things to do with your time.”

A deeply uncomfortable silence followed.

“Where is your sword, little sister?” the newcomer, Tybalt, finally asked in response as he stared pointedly at the empty scabbard belted at Alvidia’s waist.

Alvidia swallowed uncomfortably before replying. “It was destroyed during my recent outing. I’ll have it replaced at once.”

“A member of the Brask family, known far and wide as the mightiest on the continent has not only been defeated by a fumbling amateur, but she would shamelessly parade her disgrace before our lord?” asked Tybalt coldly.

“I would…no, I see your point, brother. I apologize,” Alvidia said with an embarrassed flush to her skin. I didn’t like seeing her that way.  Although I hadn’t known her for long, I’d quickly grown to like this young woman. True, she was arrogant and brash, but such a bold disposition suited a warrior as capable as her.  Seeing her pushed around by a domineering older sibling displeased me.

Also, he’d called me a fumbling amateur within my earshot.

I was pretty sure that had been done deliberately.

“Have no fear, Mr. Tybalt,” I said. “Although I can’t personally speak to the capabilities of the rest of your family, I thought Lady Alvidia acquitted herself honorably. Her talent was a sight to behold.”

“It’s Lord Tybalt, Mr. Evans,” he said in the same polite tone he’d addressed me with earlier. “And speaking respectfully, although your opinion is appreciated, it wasn’t asked for.”

“Hmm.  You know, it’s the strangest thing,” I said as I scratched my chin.  “What you just said didn’t actually feel respectful or appreciated in the slightest. Isn’t that odd?”

Tybalt’s brow creased ever so slightly.

Alvidia stared at me with a horrified expression from behind her brother, while Cross shook her head in terror and silently mouthed the word don’t.  

“Just as your report said, you have an interesting way of interacting with others,” Tybalt said. “I do admire a confident person.”

“You do?  Wonderful,” I said in appreciation.

Now Tybalt was smiling.

“Kyler Evans, I am definitely going to remember you later,” he said. “But since we’re currently pressed for time, we’ll have to continue this conversation later.  I’m looking forward to it, though.”

“Well, I’ll first have to see if I can pencil you in, Lord Tybalt,” I replied. “I have a busy schedule of my own, you see.  I’m sure you understand. I can’t just move things around for some random nobody. But if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll make an exception.”

Once again, Tybalt smiled at me. 

I smiled at him as well.

As we stared into each other’s eyes, all around us, the world seemed to slow to a crawl.

For the first time since my encounter with Sophia in my original world, I was certain that I now stood in the presence of someone capable of dealing me mortal harm.

It felt very exciting.

If I went for his throat at this very moment, would he be fast enough to stop me? If he went for me, would I be able to react in time?  How much of this palace would be destroyed during our clash?  How many people would die?

It was too exciting to think of. How fortunate for everyone involved that Rachel quickly picked up on my murderously intense interest and interceded before something terrible could happen.

“Well, let’s get you going on your way, boss,” she said cheerfully while deliberately clinging to my arm.

My sword arm.

“The Regent himself is waiting!” she continued.  “We can’t be rude, right?  Right?”

“Right!” Cross said, quickly catching on. “How silly of us would that be? But I insist on guiding Mr. Evans myself. Lord Tybalt is far too important for such mundanities.”

“Yes, far too important!” Alvidia chimed in as she grabbed Tybalt’s arm.  “Thank you again for honoring us with your presence, brother.  While Evans is escorted to his meeting, perhaps I could consult with you about finding a suitable replacement for my sword. Your expertise would be invaluable.”

Before Tybalt or I could say anything in protest, we were pulled in separate directions and dragged away. As we were forcibly parted, our eyes met once more, and in the intensity of our shared gaze was the promise of future spectacular violence to come.

I dearly anticipated it. 

Anytime, anywhere.

__

 “Well, that was fucking terrifying, thank you so much for that horrendous experience,” Cross said angrily as she led us down the hall to a floating platform that took us to the fourth floor of the building at a languid pace. “I’m beginning to form a negative opinion of you, Evans.”

“What did I do that was so awful?” I asked. “I was just sizing the fellow up.”

“Sizing him up?” Cross repeated in a dazed voice. “Hey, handsome?  That was Lord Tybalt fucking Brask.  The current head of the Brask family! A living legend at the age of twenty-two! He might have S-Rank potential!  Do you know what they call him?”

“What?” I asked.

“Damocles,” she said excitedly.  “Do you know why?  Because anyone or anything that crosses him is doomed!  And you just stood there mocking him like he was a forest goblin.  I thought my heart was going to stop beating!”

“Damocles?” I asked. “Was Tybalt the one who picked that nickname?”

“Yep!” Cross said.  “Pretty cool, right?”

“No, it’s stupid,” I snorted.  “In the myth, Damocl...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Sleeping_Humanity on 2024-10-29 06:53:23+00:00.

//Vorak’s personal log: “Observation of the human species, as exemplified by Derrick McGill, has yielded intriguing data. Humans, as they self-identify, exhibit a societal structure that, based on Derrick's descriptions, suggests a level of technological development below the galactic median. However, Derrick's cognitive abilities indicate that human intelligence may surpass initial estimations, assuming he represents an average member of his species.

Physiologically, Derrick's musculature and stature are noteworthy. If representative, humans possess significant physical strength and endurance, potentially making them valuable in labor-intensive roles. Integration into Si’Quar societal functions could be beneficial, though their social nature contrasts with the predominantly solitary tendencies of my species, potentially complicating interpersonal interactions.

Derrick has appropriated my laboratory as his quarters, likely due to gravitational preferences. Analysis of the adjustments he has made to our artificial gravity generator suggests that his homeworld's gravity is approximately 15% greater than that of Si’Quar. He occasionally increases the gravity by an additional 10%, presumably to prevent muscular atrophy in lower gravity environments.

I have collected hair samples for genetic analysis. The human genome utilizes four nucleobases: adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine. This differs from the Si’Quar genome, which incorporates isocytidine and isoguanosine alongside the standard bases. This genetic variation implies that humans may not metabolize Si’Quar food efficiently, possibly leading to adverse effects. Fortunately, the galactic standard nutrient paste remains compatible with his biology.

The absence of data regarding Earth's location is unfortunate. Access to human data networks would significantly enhance understanding of their cognitive processes and cultural development. Derrick frequently discusses aspects of his homeworld, particularly enterprises and services from his formative years. This may suggest a heightened cognitive adaptability during human adolescence, meriting further study. Continued analysis of Derrick's physiology and genetics is warranted to expand knowledge on human capabilities and potential contributions.

Anatomically, humans share bipedal locomotion with the Si’Quar—a rarity among galactic species, where quadrupedal or hexapedal forms with centaurism of two or more upper manipulator joints. Evolutionary trends favor speed and stability, often resulting in multiple limbs for locomotion.

Humans possess only two optical organs compared to the Si’Quar's four, which might suggest limited perceptual capacity. Yet, Derrick navigates his environment with competence, despite occasional collisions, possibly attributable to his propensity for distraction rather than sensory limitations. Since I’m currently unable to study human anatomy with a blade, I'll have to wait for embryonic tests to begin in order to study how those optics develop.

It is also noteworthy that humans are not amphibious, unlike the Si’Quar. This difference may have implications for their environmental adaptability and could be an area for future study. I'm curious if their skin is water tight.

It is interesting that humans have smaller cranial capacities compared to the Si’Quar. This does not appear to impede Derrick's cognitive functions. It is conceivable that humans have a more efficient neural architecture, allowing for rapid synaptic transmission and quick decision-making. This might account for Derrick's impulsive behavior and his tendency to improvise solutions, traits that, while sometimes unconventional, have yielded effective results.

Ethical considerations preclude invasive anatomical study of Derrick. However, ongoing non-invasive observations should continue.”

[All questions are welcome.]

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Mr_Noh on 2024-10-29 06:10:39+00:00.

[Something that came into my head the other day. Just a one-off, not in any particular story setting. I know it's not exactly a new concept, but whatever. :P ]

The lieutenant looked around at the ragtag, composite batallion of soldiers under her command. She didn't weep only from iron discipline, knowing the effect on morale it will have.

Not that morale mattered much in this case, but every bit helps.

She saw the torn bodies that were left of a once great army, gathered together from pieces of shattered units. Limbs abruptly shortened, charred flesh and fur from the enemy's horrific plasma casters, some with bandages covering the hole where an eye used to be, uniforms torn by claws that could pierce the finest armor, the wearer surviving only by pure dumb luck.

Ultimately she knew that they would not survive the onslaught of the seemingly endless hordes of insectoid warriors approaching their last lines of defense, but out sheer obnoxious stubbornness she refused to give in to despair. Maybe some from the city behind her would make it to the escape craft and past the blockading fleet, surviving to revive her devastated homeland in some distant future that she and those gathered under her makeshift command would never see. But by all that was holy the enemy would damn well know they've been in a fight! "Rear echelon useless slunt" my tail, she thought with a bitterness kept hidden behind a determined expression.

"Lieutenant, the last of the outer delaying forces has been overrun. The city command center is still up, but it's not telling us what we don't already know: We're screwed, and not in a pleasant way." That way was known to both the communications officer and his commander, but other than a passing thought about how damage has given her uniform an oddly attractive "disaster chic" look from fiction productions he set that aside.

"Here they come!" some unknown voice shouts from the front lines, bringing her attention to the chittering masses approaching their position.

"Long shooters, stand by. Artillery units, open fire." Her voice is rock solid, concealing her inner qualms about the pathetic state of the sole artillery company they could scrape together, firing museum pieces and various cast-offs of now-dead units salvaged from a repair depot in the capital.

She turns sharply to the comm operator when she hears burst forth from his comm unit "Hide fast" in some loud, oddly mechanical alien voice. "Who is that?! Tell them to either be useful or get off the net!"

Just as her comms operator is about to respond, a shout from the troops makes her look up to the sky. Distant flashes suddenly light the clouds. That signal got out! she realizes suddenly. "Take cover! Incoming!" she yells, and like those around her she drops to the torn ground, trying to become one with the dirt as streaks of light slash down from the heavens.

After a moment she disobeys her own order and lifts her head above the makeshift defensive berms, watching the blazing wave of destruction cut through the attacking hordes with an effortless ease that made the enemy's own overpowering of her world's military look the work of halfhearted dilettantes.

After an unknown amount of time, seemingly forever but probably only a small handful of minutes, the enemy forces are just gone. Flashes of coherent light fade as their saviors work their way outward, save for one towering bipedal figure encased in powered armor that approaches her front lines. Its battle rifle, easily the size of some of her smaller artillery pieces, is slung over a shoulder, hands raised in the nearly universal signal of peace. "Hold your fire!" she orders as some on the forward edges of her unit bring up their arms to face the potential new threat. "Let them approach."

She rises off of the ground, taking a moment to self-consciously wipe the dirt off her uniform - such as it is - then steps forward to meet the visitor. Recognizing the subdued markings on the left shoulder, now visible with the suit's concealment functions deactivated, she snaps off a salute.

After returning the salute, the armored figure surprises her, dropping to a knee to reduce the height disparity between them, reaching up to unseal and remove the helmet to reveal a surprisingly young human woman's head, hair shorn almost to the scalp.

The human still towers over her, but the lieutenant appreciates the gesture nonetheless. "Lieutenant Second Class Arealai, commander of this unit."

The clad human nods her head, seemingly unsurprised that the vaguely murine officer before her speaks Terran Standard fairly well within physiological constraints. "Colonel Rebecca D'Antonio, Terran Expeditionary Force. Other units are cleaning up the infestations elsewhere. Sorry we didn't get here sooner, but we had to gather distant forces for this operation, and there was apparently more difficulty than expected with the blockading fleet."

"'Better late than never' is the phrase you use, I believe. And right now if it wouldn't be a horrible breach of discipline I'd be making you take me to bed!" For a moment, with the joyful laugh the youthful recent graduate of the military academy, eyes aglow with anticipation, peeks through the grizzled appearance.

D'Antonio suppresses a laugh at the thought of the diminutive alien making a human Marine in powered armor do anything the Marine didn't want. Looking around at the forces the lieutenant had gathered in the face of what seemed to be certain doom, gathered from units that had been ground under the invading force's onslaught and whose morale was probably nonexistent, size or strength disparities would be unlikely to stop Arealai. "Unfortunately for you, I don't swing that way," she notes with amusement. "But the sentiment is appreciated. And after what you've done here, I doubt there will be a single person on this world who would refuse you under other circumstances."

The lieutenant snorts. "I didn't need fighting off an alien invasion for that. There were plenty who wanted to bed a 'plucky young lieutenant', thinking that flashing a winning smile would make me melt into their arms." A brief moment later she adds, "and by the way, your translators suck giant donkey dong. 'Hide fast'?" She laughs again.

"You're telling me, sister. Sometimes I think those pieces of trash cause more conflicts than they defuse." She waves towards the sole tent in the encampment, the comm system antennae rising behind it marking it as the command center. "Let's continue this conversation elsewhere, shall we?" she suggests. "There's still a lot to do here."

Arealai nods, and leads the colonel to the command post.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/CycloneDensity on 2024-10-29 03:48:02+00:00.

Author’s note: Here’s what made this story happen: A Pikmin 1&2 back-to-back playthrough while I was jamming to Sabaton and Avatar and VERY caffeinated (the Swedish metal bands, not the armored boot or the air bender/blue alien). As always, enjoy!

____________________

One week has passed since Andrew awoke within the strange metal room, and for him much has changed. The first and most important change was him regaining his own autonomy, at least for the most part. As Doctor Thast had briefed him a few days after waking up, he wasn’t fully acclimated to his newly regenerated body and would suffer some slight motor function troubles, but with some time his brain would fully map his regrown nerve endings and come to recognize it as his own body in due time. The simple cure-all was time and exercise, two things that made Andrew slightly annoyed putting up with but were nonissues now that he was finally allowed some freedom to roam the hospital halls.

The second development was the things he was able to see and do now that his legs could take him places. At first he merely explored his room with the assistance of Trina, inspecting all of the hidden features that made his room a fully functional house on its own. Once he was able to move about with only a pair of crutches he was granted access to the halls, which were always filled with a marching line of Trinas going from room to room, checking on patients and carrying meals to them with the same uncharismatic smile. The building was more of the same as his room: bland gray walls, blue floors of varying shades, and bright lights that made his eyes sting looking at them. It wasn’t until he wandered a fair distance from his room that he finally found a window to look out of, the view of which took his breath away.

Blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and great silver spires that rose to touch them like colossal metal fingers. Small dots of chrome drifted through the sky all around the futuristic city outside, no doubt some kind of drones or hovercrafts, as bright flashy billboards flew through the air on their own like confetti. The whole scene of a bustling, lively city that shimmered and changed colors was wreathed by a sea of green grass and lush forests, as if the grant innovations of man had simply pierced through the ground in the middle of an ancient forest. He wondered where on Earth he was, given how he had never seen a forest so magnificent or a range of flat mountains capped with snow.

Lastly, the third major development in his week of recovery was being given his own smart device, similar but not entirely like a smartphone in many ways, that was able to adhere to any surface regardless of material and be recalled by the one linked to it. Although he had only just begun to use it and explore its features, he was encouraged just by having something that he understood the functions of and could pass his resting hours with. Already it had helped him learn the date, the year, and the day that would begin his first day of what William had called advanced physical therapy. It would begin the next day, Monday, the fifteenth of November, thirty-eight-nineteen (15/11/3819). 

The next morning, Trina awoke him with a gentle nudge. “Andrew, the doctor requests your presence in the rehabilitation center. Please follow me.” She made her request in that same thick accent of hers, hiding away the soft sounds of her words and giving them a rough sound. 

Andrew groaned and pinched his eyes towards the bridge of his nose, hissing through his teeth as the glaring lights responded to his awakening by hitting him with a harsh beam of unforgiving shine. “Alright, shit, I’m getting up! Ugh, can you dim the lights? I can’t see.”

His request was met after a moment of delay, but not before he had already pushed himself up and moved to the foot of the bed. He ignored the fact that the lights had taken so long to dim and instead just left the bed, grabbing his crutches and turning to the robotic lady who would lead him to where he needed to go. “Alright, I’m good to go.” 

He hobbled after her as she went through the portal to the hallway, followed her as she took a left, a right, two more lefts, and another right in order to guide him to their destination. Andrew noticed along the way that some of the Trinas were now standing idly by the doorways to some of the rooms, an unnervingly remorseful look on their faces with their eyes completely blank. Their lifeless state made him uneasy as he followed the active Trina towards a set of doors that were distinct from the others, as they were square, had a detailed frame around them, and were thick like some kind of bulkhead.

Trina led him to the doors and stepped to one side, gesturing to the door before him invitingly. “The doctor is inside, along with your fellow patients. Please enter and begin physical rehabilitation.” She then blinked once and began to droop slightly, becoming a mirror of all of the deactivated copies they had passed along the way.

With no real option to pry further, and a gnawing sense of curiosity eating away at him, he staggered forwards to the door until he passed some kind of threshold where a sensor could see him and unlock the metal doorway. As the doors opened, he was able to make out many details of the place he was entering just at a glance as it was almost like a gymnasium. Sleek white floors with red dots and lines to show a court and a track, a row of stands that came out from the very wall to offer dozens of seats for those gathered, and visible marking along the walls and ceiling that would undoubtedly dispense some form of equipment like the features his room was capable of providing him with.

He let his eyes roam the room for a moment before he realized that he was not alone in this chamber, and in fact he was now the object of everyone’s focus. Seated on the bleachers were two dozen or more people of every size, shape, and varied nationalities giving him looks of annoyance or concern as he shuffled towards them. Each of them wore one of the seamless hospital gowns like he did, their forms hidden by the knee-length hem of the long,clinical sheets of cloth.

Andrew was able to pick out a few that looked unique compared to a majority of the others. One of them was a man of obvious Asian descent, perhaps Japanese given the knot of hair kept atop his head and the thinly trimmed facial hair that gave him a strong appearance, who stared at the others around him with mild disinterest. Another was a rather fidgety girl with bubblegum pink hair, a tattoo of a rose on her cheek, and a scar on her forehead that gave the impression that she had been shot recently. Another was a woman with short fiery red hair and a depressed look on her face, who sat off to one side with her arms crossed over her chest. Then finally, the most jarring of all was a large bearded man with fierce eyes and sun-darkened skin, his body a wall of thick muscles that stretched his patient gown around his barrel sized chest. Sure, there were plenty of others in the group that stood out or had noticeably distinct features, but these people had an air about them that made him keep his guard up.

At the front of the collective was none other than the doctor, who stood in his usual hunched stance as he popped a few more pills into his mouth. He cast a sedated yet joyful smile towards the newcomer, sticking his thumbs into the loop of his pants as he began to speak. “Alright, that’s everyone. Andrew, if you would kindly take a seat…thank you. So, hello everyone, you all know me already: Doctor William Thast, or just Will for short. Welcome to your first day of physical rehab. Now is when I’ll go over things like ground rules, the purpose and process of this program, and also the different ways this program ends. Afterwards, we will begin session one. Let’s get started.”Will then snapped his fingers to make a solid white panel appear from the wall and hover over towards him, like a holographic whiteboard already listing the rules on it. He extended his hand and pointed to them from top to bottom, listing each one with a tired smile. “Rule number one: no skipping out on rehab. I know most of you would like to stay holed up in your rooms, poke at the tv and watch the news, and just avoid working out, but your bodies need exercise before you can be discharged. Rule two: no fighting. There might be some exceptions to this rule, such as sparring matches or some activities that get hands-on, but trying to start something outside of those specified events will end with the culprit going into private rehab with Miss Trina, which is not as good as that sounds. Trust me, a machine doesn’t know what it means to be exhausted, so you will just suffer. Third rule: no stealing or smuggling. I know you might like some of the fun gadgets from the gym, but they stay here. Same goes for everything in the halls, the cafeteria, and any other rooms you can access. If it isn’t yours, don’t take it, it’s that simple. Anyways, that’s about it. Questions?”

The room was silent for a moment until a person from the crowd stood up, and a shy woman with braided hair spoke up in a rich Spanish accent. “When can we go home?”

The doctor looked at her with an unwavering smirk, leaning from one hip to the other and pointing his finger at her with a snap. “Great question, Gabriela, and one that is probably on everyone’s minds. As I told you all before, sending you bac...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SSBAlienNation on 2024-10-29 06:20:44+00:00.

All Chapters of Alien-Nation

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A Gift From the Shadows

8:00 P.M. EST

"The last I see of you, you're running to answer the door because 'someone's there'. So I wait a while, and then a while longer. Then I try to call you back, and you're not there. So obviously I think the worst, especially when Amilita's not taking my calls either. So I come over even though there's a good chance you're being interrogated already by the Interior or whatever. Except even your new bodyguard doesn't know where you are, and is begging me to not tell Amilita you're gone. I promise to keep quiet and bump into your dad at the front door, who says he saw you leaving but didn't think there was anything special about it." The shil'vati girl threw her hands in the air.

The day was far more eventful than the peaceful return to a full-time life as Elias I'd planned it to be when I'd woken up, and in the course of all that excitement I had almost entirely forgotten that coming home that I'd have to face the music.

Now 'the music' was standing against the side of her family car parked smack dab in the middle of the street, and had both her hands on her hips and was blue in the face from yelling. The sharp staccato notes flowed out endlessly as she tried to emphasize just how angry she was.

"Which is just perfect for getting me to worry. Tell me, did you only pull the disappearing act on your followers, or do you reserve that kind of treatment for the people who really know and care about you?"

Perhaps the middle of the street wasn't the most subtle place for us to meet and discuss this- but it was where I'd been cut off on my walk back from George's after helping him set his front door back into place until he could replace it. The sun had long since set, and if it was anyone else, I'd have been too tired to care and just pushed past them, my stomach rumbling in anger over neglecting it all day.

I held up my hands attempting something of a defense. "Natalie- sorry- please, it was important. I had to go."

"Oh yeah?" She asked, leaning in. "You went back to them, didn't you?"

"I did." There weren't any other words. Not even after all the time I'd had to think about my situation and its many nuances. I'd ultimately made the choices that had led me to where I was.

"That's what I thought. I knew you were like this, that you only wanted blood, this entire time. Ever since day one! You're addicted to it, to being him, to violence and power!"

I supposed she had a point. Diocletian had come to mind, and if they'd somehow contacted me a week later, I might have responded: If you could show the nebula that I saw with my own eyes to your [new] emperor, he definitely wouldn't dare suggest that I replace the peace and happiness of this place with the storms of a never-satisfied greed for blood.

But they'd caught me while I was still unsure, and I'd seen an opportunity there. The chance to do something 'right.' It appealed to my ego, this conceited sense that only I could steer things the correct and true way. Maybe that was a lust for power, and there was something to what she said. I'd built where others had failed. I'd steered us to where we were- there was validation in success, even a bloody one like the path I'd forged. People might complain and say 'oh, you could have done better,' but how many people had been more 'correct' and yet failed? It reminded me of my dad's advice when I'd learned to ride a bike:

There are graveyards filled with people who had the right-of-way. What did being 'right' matter if you were dead?

Even so, there was some part of me that did want to make everyone's sacrifices mean something. That was an opportunity I couldn't walk away from. Was it egotistical to insist that only I could steer things the 'right' way, when they'd come to me to help iron out the issues? I'd lasted a year, and Vaughn hadn't lasted a day- how was that not some form of validation as to where I belonged?

I'd gotten an adrenaline rush from stepping in and fixing things, then laying the foundation for a bright new future. I tried to imagine living several or more times long than I had already, never again knowing such a feeling. Knowing I'd 'peaked' in some sense, and that was almost incomprehensible. I instinctually denied it- and wanted to say that if I stepped away then somehow, I'd rise even higher as just being Elias, even without the need for the Interior to keep boosting my videos. And sure there was the remote possibility that was true, but I wasn't certain.

Was that what an addict experienced? I'd like to say 'I wouldn't know,' though there was the possibility that yes, Natalie was right. I was addicted to the power. Was that such a bad thing? I hadn't fought my way back in. I'd been ready to consider her offer, even if it meant stepping away from everything I knew and handing over control to her of almost every aspect of my life.

Realizing I'd now been silent for some time, and Natalie was doing her best impression of an imminently erupting volcano, I started. "I..."

What was it I'd said to the crowd before marching on Dover? My recollection went something like: 'Violence is not the answer. Violence is the question, and the answer is 'yes'!' Should I say that I had no choice at all, when I also joyfully said things like that?

Well, I'd been terrified, too. I'd spent a minute staring at myself in a bathroom mirror both before and after.

I stepped in a little closer, and she blinked and suddenly squirmed as I put my hands against the car on both sides of her, leaning in.

"It's not that I'm addicted to violence." I said slowly, trying to keep my voice down and checking on the windows behind her for any peeled back curtains. At least none of the houses along this stretch had their lights on, and there were no streetlights in the neighborhood, either. "We'd just finally chosen to embrace it. There wasn't actually much of a choice left to us."

Maybe it was about control, though. That was what had bothered me so much about going off with Natalie. I'd have been totally reliant on her. Just like how I was insistent we weren't going to answer to Sullivan and Gavin, or anyone else for that matter. Or it could have been pride- to see Vaughn throw everything away, toss my name into the dirt. My blood boiled at the sight of him tilting his head up.

You owe me.

Natalie looked around before tapping the car on the side. I didn't see any kind of control panel or other imperfections to denote what reacted when she pressed her fingers against the flat, perfectly unmarred surface, but the door unsealed and started to rise so I let her go. She hesitated for just a moment before stepping back and waving me to follow her in.

"Wasn't there?" Natalie hissed as I ducked low and the door sealed shut behind us. "What else was it then that brought you back? I thought you were being pushed into carrying out acts of violence, but I want to hear it from you. I want to hear you say you had 'no choice,' right after I offered you a way out, because now I don't believe it." Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. "Go on, tell me. Tell me that this whole time, it's been a choice, and I've just been stupid. Watching all those videos, listening to that propaganda for hours. I thought I was smart, I thought I'd seen a truth practically no one else did. I thought all you needed was someone to love and accept you. Then you run off on me to go and kill more people, the first chance you get. Now I think the reason no one else saw the truth I did was because I was the only one dumb enough to believe it!"

Everything had been a choice. But...what had the choice really been? My tired mind tried to come up with a fallacy, some kind of moral philosophical demonstration we might have gone over in the school library, but nothing jumped to mind.

"It was the only way," I reaffirmed sadly with a dry croak, no longer minding my tone. "Not violence toward you personally, or even to the Shil'vati exclusively. Just to..." I trailed off. "...everything. Everything that was happening. We couldn't effect any changes peacefully." How many others suffered like they had? Doubtless, their story was repeated a thousand times across the nation. They'd just found their way to me.

Natalie didn't look me in the eyes. She didn't seem able to.

"Don't you understand?" I asked softly. "People here tried talking. Tried being peaceful."

We gave peace a chance. It didn't work out.

Her hesitation told me she didn't have any particular ideas but still wanted to object anyway. "No, I don't understand. What about the videos you put out? They got through to me, eventually."

"Why'd you even watch them? Some guy in a skull mask says something in front of a camera they can't track down to make a story out of, so there's no story. A terrorist who just killed a Governess and dozens of shil'vati and collaborators puts one out, suddenly it's a sensation. Violence worked for getting our message out. Now it seems like the whole galaxy knows."

"So you attacked your own leaders for fame? For attention? That's c...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Engletroll on 2024-10-29 03:48:01+00:00.

Part 1 . . Part 2 .. Part 3 .. Part 4 Part 5 .. Part 6 .. Part 7 .. Part 8 Part 9 . Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Adam woke up the next day, and it was still raining. He got himself ready, went to the kitchen, and grabbed a coffee before going to the admin. It was still early, so the kids had not arrived yet. He asked the computer to transfer all the reports to his pad and then went to the lift. He took it to the observation deck and sat down as he watched the rain, enjoying the coffee. He slowly went over the reports.

It had become his morning routine, and this was how he had discovered all the hidden projects his employees had. The rain stopped around seven, and he looked at the wet ground. If he had been a kid, he would have loved to jump in the puddles. He thought momentarily, then headed down to his storage and opened his seed bank. He found what he was looking for, grabbed a shovel, and walked out. After he got into the suit, he walked out, found a nice spot about five hundred meters from the base, and started digging. WD-40 came over and looked at him.

“May I help you, Sir?” It asked. He looked up and chuckled at the number on its chest.

“Naw.. wait, yes. A small fence around this plant and make sure it gets some fertilizer. Hopefully, it will grow up to be a nice tree.” He finished up and looked around. “I think we are doing a nice job. Hmm, maybe we should start a plant-spreading program.”

“Starting the program, searching the database for the best method.” It replied, and Adam chuckled. “I’m changing your designation to Druid. I will tell Jork and Vorts to help you with your mission. Oh, and not only appletrees like this, be diverse within logical parameters.”

“Affirmative. We're building a small fence before starting a new program.” As he spoke, his designation vanished and became the words druid. Adam nodded to the droid, grabbed the shovel, and returned inside. When he returned to the administration, he found the two working kids were leaving as they had finished their duties. Vorts had seen him outside and asked what he had done, so he explained that he had planted an apple tree, and a droid had asked to help. He told them to add Druid’s new mission into the system and give it the resources, just as an experiment. Vorts started working on seed cloning as Jork launched a science droid to report Druid's work; he named the droid pet and gave one of the engineers the job of creating a storage unit they could use. After that, they promptly forgot to give instructions on how to plant trees for two droids with a ten thousand-year lifespan.

Instead, they focused on the coming day, the student's presentation, and Adam ‘s daily swim with Miker. They had a short meeting about the different projects and a few new ones that were being suggested. Adam had to hold back on a few as some got a little too excited about the oxygen in the air. It was still only 0.5% a long distance from the 21 to 22% they were aiming for. It was a good beginning, and the algae was starting to produce oxygen, as suspected. Vorts was working hard on the cloning process and requested ten more machines. Adam was going to look into it. He was, after all, going back to the Hub soon to pick up goods and deliver the professors.

Vorts suggested they should ally with the university, allowing them access at a price. Adam told him he had already thought about it, and that was one of the reasons for Min-na’s presence. Any deals could quickly be hammered out. After that, he contacted Min-Na and told her he would like a meeting with her after the presentation. She agreed as she was now tailing the professors and her granddaughter and enjoying the sights.

Adam then went to pick up Miker to go swimming. It was a happy reunion, and he was happy showing off his new swimming skills. Then they went to check the fish that had hatched in the other pool. The little boy showed him all the new things until they ended up in the kitchen, where they made Pizza for lunch. After lunch, He had to say goodbye to the boy, change, and meet with the professors and students. Besides them, a few others wanted to get an update and understand what was going on. The new crew was curious, and a few of them were highly educated.

The students did a great job with the information they had, showing the state of Dirt when bought, the scans done by the survey and Adam, and how they matched up. Then, they went into the difference in mindset and how Adam, with a relatively low budget, had managed to change the planet. If the same survey team had arrived now, they would have definitely marked the planet as potential for colonization.

They followed up by going over the major projects and their impacts, discussing ideas considered stupid, such as activating the volcanos and taking nitrogen from Onic. They still smiled at the name, how it had actually worked, and how they had adjusted when finding out seeding the sea and making fertilizer was a better method as it started the photosynthesizing process, creating oxygen and distributing nitrogen into the soil. Not only that, it removed the CO2 from the atmosphere as well. They might be able to make the air breathable much quicker than first assumed. All they needed was more algae and aquatic life. They also talked about mushrooms and moss to help with the process, which could be spread through drones as they spread the fertilizer over the land.

Adam was impressed as he listened and took notes; they then went into the production part of the terraforming. It had an abundance of the common metals in the system but little of the rare ones, making it not so ideal for mining, but it gave them access to materials for construction.

Then Jork came up, which surprised Adam. He spoke about what he had the potential to do on the planet out of the limelight of the university and mentioned Adams's new company, which produces ships, drones, and now androids. Then Jork turned to Adam.

“Boss, are you okay with engineer students coming here for an internship?”

Adam chuckled as he facepalmed for a second, then looked at him and the professors who were looking at him.

“Hell, if the university wants to rent the wing, they can decide themselves what kind of internships and research projects they would like to do.”

He could see Professor Jayko eyes brighten at the thought. Min-Na smirked as she knew what would happen, so Adam continued. “I also plan to build a few more bases around the planet. You could be allowed to rent one as a department.”

“We will definitely look into that, yes.” Professor Jayko replied.

Jork smiled and continued, going over a few new patents Adam’s company had made, including a new explorer. Then he turned on the galaxy map to remind them that Dirt lay on the edge of a huge part of the unexplored galaxy. As all the planets explored in this direction, the locally known dead part was like Dirt: empty.

The professors suddenly became interested as they could see the potential for exploration and expansion via this new type of terraforming.

When Jork was finished, Vorts came up and started talking about the potential biological experiments they had started here. Showing them the files of all flora and fauna DNA Adam had brought with him, he then talked about how they had unique chances to experiment and find ideal flora and Fauna that could be a template for these barren worlds. Of course, this meant they needed more personnel and access to high-quality cloning programs. While Adam could provide funding, he unfortunately did not have access to the hardware and personalities. Something that the university could help with. Of course, if they thought this too much, then Adam and the company could contact other Universities. Galactic Federation Science and Exploration University (SaSU) was the best, but there would be a less important university that would love to jump on the chance.

Adam had to hide a smile. Vorts was the final speaker, and he was clearly closing the trap. When the presentation ended, the professors retired to the Wing to discuss the matter, as Adam had talked with Min-Na. They walked towards the administration but passed it and entered an empty office area; an administration droid an...

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This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Ogiwan on 2024-10-29 03:24:32+00:00.

While this is something that has been in my head a while, I'm afraid my current inebriation has dialed the complexity back more than I would have liked. Not that I thought of other supply chains while sober; I'm just sure that I would have thought of other aspects if I was able to fully plot stuff out. Because if you remember nothing else, remember this: The amount of work put in to whatever will kill you, or that asshat alien you hate, is worth it.

***STORY BEGINS***

My skin was made in Altair.

The furious, blue burning heart of that system, combined with the thick asteroid fields resulting from not only its mass, but from its quick rotation, meant that my skin was forged from simple steel in one of the two great stations in that system. In my case, Brown Station.

 My burning antimatter core, a mere ten grams, was forged above the furnace of Sol. The vast solar arrays piped energy into the proton accelerator that gave birth to my molten fury.

The raw materials for the hypermagnets were drawn from the burning hell of Sirius. Between the A-class Sirius A, and the white dwarf of Sirius B, no serious planetoids ever developed. Which means that protoplanetary mining, and the requisite station and support structures for said miners, meant that Sirius had a booming mining sector. And entertainment sector.

The circuitry that runs through me came from Terra itself, surprisingly enough. The “rare earths” from her surface, and the manufacture from the zero-G forges in orbit. In my case, Heinlein Station.

All of my components were sent to the New Rock Island Armory, on Phobos. The minimal gravity allowed for the easy manipulation of everything. I was made whole.

I was placed on a pallet with many of my brothers, and we waited. How long, I cannot tell, but long enough for us to be loaded on a heavy freighter. We traveled to the naval depot in Vega; you know the one. King Station, named after one of the greatest naval leaders of human history. All I know is that the appropriate sacrifices were made in his honor.

I waited for an indeterminate time in the z-gee storeyards. Look, I’m a shell, not a PFC or whatever. All I know is that a courier pinnace popped in, shot a transmit to Central, and I was loaded on a Busy Hauler.

If you don’t know, a Hauler moves a bunch of containers to wherever. A Busy Hauler moves containers, as well as the lighters that move them from orbit to surface. Yeah, it might sound hot, but it’s actually a point of pride that the drop boys and the grunts exist on such a tenuous supply chain.

My pallet was in a container that was on a lighter that was…..well, look, if I was a fleshy I would be paste. The only reason I got down was because of the inertial dampers in the cockpit.

Once everything stopped screaming and moving, I was yanked out by some fleshy in a suit. They dumped me onto a floater, along with a bunch of other pallets. Then, we moved in.

We bounced around for a bit, and then things slowed down, stopped. MHE, Material Handling Equipment, picked us up. A few hundred years ago, it would have been forklifts or pallet jacks or so I’ve been told, but now it is suits with tractors or the like. They put us on to all-terrain haulers.

My ATH bounces quite offensively over some rough terrain. The only reason I don’t go flying off is because of the curtain screen that keeps us from bouncing outside of our pallet.

 We come to a stop, and are taken off of our ATH. My pallet is put in front of a field piece that would be indistinguishable from its great-to-the-X grandfather from 1941. But, instead of hydraulic cylinders, this one has mass accelerator cylinders.

I wait, and am eventually loaded in. I am sent on my way with a great cacophony, but I do not pay attention to this.

Once I arrive at the necessary point, my anti-matter containment field cuts out, and I hits. My fury burns forth, a dozen, no, a dozen dozen hundred human’s fury expanded on the Bulro. A star briefly burns.

I have fulfilled my purpose.

***STORY ENDS***

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/psycocod21 on 2024-10-29 01:25:38+00:00.

First

Previous

Josh had never felt more bewildered in his life. He hadn't been in a 10 year old girl's bedroom since he was 10 years old. Donna Moss was a neighbor and had invited all the neighborhood kids to her house for her birthday party. The party had been mostly in the backyard , but at one point, Donna had invited Josh up to her room to see her Pokémon card collection. He had been excited then. Now he was perpetually puzzled as his 10 year old sister that he met 12 minutes ago dragged him around the room proudly, showing off all her toys and treasures. She showed him a set of hovering trains, an entire bookshelf of half completed coloring books, a small mountain of plush creatures, each of which had a name and needed to be introduced to him and then she pulled out two thick books worn nearly threadbare from use.

One book had a title that was obviously handwritten in a large flowy script that said "Daddy", and the other was titled "Brother" in the same script. His sister opened the book titled "Brother" and excitedly turned page after page happily chattering away and effectively narrating his whole life. Josh gazed in wonder at the pictures. The early pictures he recognized as copies of pictures he'd seen of himself as a kid. Between the ages of 10 and 18, there were few pictures, and they seemed to be from mostly public sources. Then, at age 18, there were suddenly many more pictures, but they were strange. They all seemed to be taken from a low height. As if the picture taker was the height of a medium-sized dog. Finally, curiosity overrode his stupor, and he asked about the pictures. His sister suddenly seemed shy.

"Oh. Those were taken by my spy dog, Kahlib. Here Kahlib!"

A Golden Retriever materialized out of a wall and padded over to the girls' side. It sat down panting, its head about the same height as hers.

"Such a good boy. Say hi, Kahlib."

"Hello Josh Bartlett, Crown Prince of the Churian Empire. It is good to see you again."

Josh stood stunned as he realized he knew this dog.

"Samwise!"

The dog thumped his tail happily. Josh remembered the dog from the last couple of years, first when he was still living with his dad and more recently from the neighborhood around his new apartment. That was actually when he gave the dog the name Samwise because it seemed like the dog had followed him from one neighborhood to another. At first, Josh had thought the dog was a neighborhood dog belonging to a neighbor he didn't know, and later, he believed the dog to be an amicable stray.

"Isn't he sweet? He's been helping me keep an eye on you. He's such a good space dog."

She said this while giving him scritchies. Josh shook his head.

"I don't understand. Dad said there could be no contact, or we'd be in danger?

His sister nodded slowly.

"That's true.... which is why a couple of years ago, i made Kahlib and sent him to keep an eye on you. He did catch a couple of Space Squirrels that were not from mommy that were sniffing around your planet."

"You made him? .... a couple of years ago?"

"Uh, huh. It wasn't too hard, and I was worried about you cause you didn't have mommy to look after you. I mean, Daddy is great. Mommy says he's the best operative she's ever met, but he's not a Churian like Mommy and me, and I just....."

She looked up at him with watery eyes and her lip quivering.

"Are you mad at me?"

Josh dropped to his knees and hugged his sister.

"Oh sweetheart, no. I just..... look, I don't know how to be a big brother, okay? I was just surprised. But look... you're amazing. He's amazing. "

Josh started petting the Golden Retriever.

"How did you make him..... 4 years ago, when you were 6?"

He tried to ask in a neutral tone of voice. His sister sniffed and wiped her eyes. Then they brightened.

"Oh! It was super easy. I just stuffed an adaptive Sen-sec AI in a custom life-synth body and modified a phase projector to emit a multi-phasic quantum signature."

Josh blinked.

"Oh. Er... well, that's very clever. Nice job. "

His sister beamed. Suddenly, klaxons began to blare, and red warning lights started to flash.

"Princess, you and the Crown Prince should immediately go the bridge. The Space Raccoon armada has just jumped into the system."

The dog looked up at his creator as he spoke. Then he jumped to all fours and ran at a nearby wall, disappearing through it. Esh'tar grabbed Josh's hand.

"C,mon brother. Let's go help Mommy and Daddy kick the trash panda's butts."

A/N: a special shout out to u/LowAudience9818 for planting the idea Space Golden Retrievers in my head. I can't begin to thank everyone who comments and votes. It means a lot. I'm glad my quirky story entertains more people than just me.

This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/LukeWasNotHere on 2024-10-29 00:42:29+00:00.

“C’mon it can’t be that hard, put ‘em up!” Scout raised her fist in what she thought was a boxing guard of some sort, with a wicked smile. 

“That’s not how you make a fist. Don’t put your thumb in it.” I said mostly to my hands, taking some form of psychic damage.

“C’mon himbo! We get kidnapped every couple days at this point, what if I don’t have the gun you gave me? I gotta learn how to knock somebody out!” She wiggled her fist around in a vaguely threatening motion. She threw a limp punch at me, which I caught and shooed away. 

“Yeah like that! Teach some. . . what do Humans call it ‘boxing-kick’? Something like that right?” Scout continued to throw useless, horribly telegraphed, slow punches that off balance her every sluggish step of the way. I easily dodged or blocked them. She actually mimicked my style quite well, minus the form. We need to hang out less, and finally get divorced. 

“Kickboxing. It’s called kickboxing and how about just for today I’ll teach you how to jab, cross.” I said as I ducked under another horrible punch. I rubbed my temple and called upon my ancestors for patience. I didn’t want to teach her, but her punches were so bad I had a moral duty to fix them. 

“Alright, now we're talking.” Scout finally stopped trying to hit me. 

“Are you left or right handed?” I asked while I showed her the proper way to make a fist. 

“Right handed.” Scout shook her fist at me. “Why?”

“Your right hand is stronger. Better for power if you have it as your rear hand. Also congratulations you’re orthodox. So, basic.” I said, she rolled her eyes. “Put your left foot in front of you, back foot over there.” I used my foot to move her in the right position. “Now put your hands in front of your face.” I brought her hands up more. 

“Okay, first just copy me. Jab.” I fired off my jab. “Cross.” I shot my cross out. Even though I was punching air I still stayed perfectly upright, and didn’t lose my balance. 

“Okay, that’s easy. Jab!” Scout threw a limp arm punch. “Cross!” Scout did another arm punch. “How was that?” 

“Not bad.” I lied. 

“Not bad. I just copied you exactly!” Scout lied to herself. 

I laughed. “No you did this.” I copied her limp punches. 

“That’s exactly the same!” Scout said without any of her usual sarcasm. 

It was at this point I realized she didn't have a fighter's brains or eyes. “That’s my bad, it probably looks the same. Here I’ll show you the difference.“ I lifted her hand up as a target. 

“Hey! I don’t think so, I’ve seen you knock enough grown men on their asses to know I don’t want that.” Scout put her hand down. 

“Don’t worry, if I can hit you hard I can hit you soft. Any halfway decent martial artist can control their punches anyways.” I put her hand back up. 

“This is what your punch feels like.” I punched her hand with only my arm muscles. 

“Ow.” Scout said calmly. 

“This is what I pulled back one of mine feels like.” I punched her hand again, this time twisting my hips to drive my weight into my strikes. 

“Ow!” Scout shook her hand. 

“When you punch twist your hips, you can probably swing your tail for extra power.” I looked at her flicking tail. 

“Alright, give it the old twist.” Scout started to hype herself up. “Jab!” She threw a massive jab that started to fling her off balance. “Cross!” She pulled her punch back so far she almost fell over one way. She finally threw her punch. “Oh sh-” Before she could finish her punch or swear she already threw herself off balance in the other direction. I caught her before she fell. 

“Thanks.” She brushed herself off. “Okay, what the Hell did I do wrong with that one?” 

“Well, on the brightside that would have hurt if you actually hit someone with it. The problem was you let your momentum take you over and so you fell. So keep your feet on the ground. Twist your hips and tail for more power, and make sure to bring your hands back to your guard right afterwards, in case the air goes for a counter punch.” I said while throwing some more example one-twos. 

Scout looked confused at all the information for a second before she got into her guard again. I saw the gears turn in her head. 

“Jab!” Scout fired off a perfect jab. “Cross!” Again, a perfect thunderous cross that could knock out most untrained people. She went back into her guard instantly, she didn’t close her eyes when she punched or lifted her chin. She even used her tail to keep balanced. 

“Huh.” I said. 

“So what did I do wrong this time?” She asked while wiping off a loose hair from her face. 

“Nothing actually, that was a perfect one-two. Guess you’re a fast learner, good job.” I gave her a thumbs up, too shocked to say anything else. 

“Great.” Scout suddenly gasped for air. “Why am I so tired?” Scout rested on her knees. 

“Yeah, fighting is hard, especially on the lungs. Especially when you’re new. Belly breaths, your belly should move before your chest.” I showed her what I meant. Scout again, followed my instructions easily. 

“So, that's how you do it then? Good old one-two.” She laughed, and got a new appreciation for my punches.

“Nope.” I laughed back. 

“What?” She asked, the appreciation leaving her body. 

“I don’t fight orthodox, I fight southpaw, right foot leading.” I got into my stance. 

“Oh, you’re left handed? But I thought you shot with your right.” Scout looked at my hands and tried to remember. 

“You’re right, I do shoot with my right, I’m not left-handed. I learned how to fight southpaw as a kid because I sucked and needed every advantage I could get. When I punch, I throw a crappy jab without twisting my hips. Then put all my power into my left hand for my cross, I usually get off balance when I throw it.” I explained. 

“What the Hell man?! You just told me not to do any of that stuff, you himbo!” She flapped her arms wildly. 

“Well, I mean there’s an old saying Humans have: ‘Advanced striking is just beginner mistakes done on purpose.’. You have to learn the rules first before you can break them, I just taught you how to do it normally.” I shrugged. 

“Okay well why do you punch like that in the first place?” Scout crossed her arms. 

I threw an arm punch that was weak but so fast it was almost impossible to properly defend against. Scout covered her head and flinched. I stopped my jab just short of hitting her. I covered her eyes with my hand, which meant I had enough time to throw a big telegraphed, but powerful punch to her body. Again, I stopped just short of hitting her stomach. 

“That’s why.” I said, my hand was still hovering over her. 

“Okay, point taken. I’ll learn the smart way first before I go full idiot. What’s next?” Scout slapped my arm away. 

“For learning kickboxing?” I asked.

“Yeah, what a couple more days and I’m good right? Honestly, how much other stuff do I have to learn?” She asked genuinely. 

“Let’s see,” I thought out loud. “I taught you the basic one-two. So now I just have to teach you, hooks, uppercuts, body shots, slipping punches, blocking, distance management, foot work, elbows, then we actually have to get to the foot stuff, teeps, roundhouse kicks, knees, checking kicks-”

“What?” Scout shook her head, not understanding half of those words. “How many more ways are there for you to knock someone's head off? Fighting is supposed to be for idiots, if it’s for idiots that means it’s easy!” She pointed at me. 

“I mean, it’s just like any other skill, painting, writing, lock picking, when people make it look ‘easy’ it’s probably because they spent years doing it poorly first. Sometimes people are naturally talented, bigger, stronger, or faster but they still need to work on it. It’s just that unlike other skills when you mess up you get punched in the face.” I giggled. 

“Wait, so you aren’t just naturally good at fighting?” Scout asked, actually surprised. 

“Are all Links perfect refined geniuses?” I asked Scout.

“Of course not, you’ve met my family.” She laughed.

“It’s like that. Plus, if I really wanted to teach you how to fight I wouldn’t have started off with a one-two or really any striking.” I laughed hard. “But you can start going to my gym if you really want to keep going.” 

“What?” Scout raised an eyebrow. “But, all you do when you fight people is throw your hat at their face, then punch and kick them a bunch. What else would I need to know?” She threw an imaginary hat at me. 

“Wrestling. You need to learn wrestling first.” I caught the imaginary hat, still laughing because I forgot she was normal. 

“What, why would I need to know wrestling first? Also what the Hells even is-” 

Before I describe what happens next I want to make three things very clear. First of all, we were outside, in a park of sorts, the grass was soft-ish. Second, though I am magnificent at hiding it, mostly unconsciously, I’m not completely incompetent. I can double leg someone into the ground softly without injuring them. 

Third, and most importantly of all, don't make this weird. Okay, I know when watching fighting, especially wrestling or worse BJJ, it looks like two people groping each other on the ground. In stories enemies to lovers have a scene where the two characters start to ‘wrestle’ and by the end of the scene ‘wrestle’. 

In real life, most of the time, grappling is sweaty, tiring and generally sucks. The last word I would use to describe the act of forcibly moving someone who does not want to be moved, who is doing the same to you is: ‘sexy’. 

I know I mentioned finally divorcing Scout, which i...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KamchatkasRevenge on 2024-10-29 00:00:42+00:00.

The behemoth that was the Crimson Tear crossed the void of stars in silence. Space was silent after all, and the massive engines emitted no noise outside of her hull. Deep in the black, off the edge of the map in the depths of wild space it could be a very lonely place. While many parts of Wild Space bustled with life and activity, just as many places were truly a galactic no man's land. Too far out of the way, or lacking in resources, phenomena of scientific interest or even rocks with the vague potential to be habitable to make a place a good base for pirates.

Today however, she did not cross the void alone.

Her usual consort, the Audacious, was out on patrol, and the frigate Gutripper was flying wing for the much larger vessel. Normal enough. Less normal was the vessel that almost massed as much as the Crimson Tear herself. The heavily armored bulk of the second Dauntless class vessel, the Inevitable. The people of Earth had sent out a fact finding mission. The information that had come back from the wider galaxy was too strange, so wild that it beggared belief.

Or so the representatives of the Earth said.

In Jerry Bridger's opinion on the other hand, it was simply the governments of mankind getting a look at the galaxy outside them, the blinders finally falling away, and realizing just how small they were in the grand scheme of things.

The entire Human population could cram into a single large spire on Centris. If it was limited to Humans only instead of including any alien family those Humans might have picked up, it wouldn't even be the most populous spire on Centris.

The numbers were shocking, and rational Human minds struggled to comprehend them. There was a reason that one of the Human teams who did analysis of such things in Diana's intelligence section had adopted the Cheshire Cat as their mascot.

Because we're all mad here.

So the Inevitable, allegedly arranged to be more 'loyal' to Earth, somehow, had been sent, and with them had come the leader of the mission, Observer Wu. A former Hong Kong police inspector who had been selected as, pretty much literally now, the most objective individual that could be found on Earth. He would be the one to be Earth's eyes and ears, to confirm what the Dauntless and the Undaunted had already sent back.

Jerry had done an interview with Observer Wu previously. Purely surface level, an introduction. This meeting was a bit less cordial.

"So... You've promoted yourself to Admiral from commander. An impressive rise to power."

Jerry raises an eyebrow. An interesting place to start.

"I didn't promote myself to any grade. Admiral Cistern promoted me to captain on taking command of this ship, a rank warranted by commanding a vessel of this size with thousands of crew and civilians aboard. The Undaunted admiralty board then promoted me to admiral based on my actions in service to the Undaunted, and Humanity."

Wu nods, taking notes for a moment.

"Do you hold these things are one and the same?"

"I do."

"Why does Admiral Cistern and your Undaunted get to determine what's best for Earth?"

Jerry considers for a second.

"Did you allow your children to vote on supper when you were raising them? Or your grandchildren as I believe you are a grandfather."

"I am, and no, I did not."

"It's just the same. Every single man and woman who departed on the Dauntless had mutually exclusive sets of orders from the various powers that be on Earth. I myself had no fewer than fifteen contradicting orders from various portions of the United States government, and messages, offers and further similar 'orders' from no less than ten world powers, and a further twenty attempts to subvert me from the previous twenty five. I was offered immense wealth and power to serve these various small minded entities on Earth and in following Grand Admiral Cistern I rejected all of them."

"And earned yourself great wealth and power in the wider galaxy instead, I see."

Jerry keeps his face as impassive as Observer Wu's, the police interrogator was coming out, but Jerry wasn't exactly a stranger to interrogations.

"If my marrying well is somehow upsetting from an Earth perspective, Observer, I'm afraid I can't do anything about it. I married a wealthy woman, and as you know, once you have wealth it is very easy to acquire more wealth with the right opportunity."

"An opportunity you earned off of data from Earth."

There it was. That's where he'd been driving to.

Jerry folds his hands, shifting himself to a slightly more comfortable position in his office chair.

"Most genetic sequences I fairly acquired, complete with contracts ensuring I have the right to use them in the wider galaxy, weren't subject to any form of exclusivity or copyright to start with. Those few that did, I paid for, again, with a signed contract. If they wish to renege on those contracts my wife's corporation will happily see them in court. As a galactic business entity, and to have any hope of enforcement against an entity that holds no citizens of any nation on Earth, that will of course require them making the appropriate applications in galactic court. Probably on Centris. I'm sure our lawyers will look forward to receiving the subpoena."

Wu simply takes a note, clearly he'd responded more or less as the other man had expected.

"Still Bridger, you have to admit that one man holding exclusive rights..."

Jerry holds his hand up to stop Wu.

"Begging the Observer's pardon, but no one in the wider galaxy holds any form of copyright or hold over baseline Earth genetic material. We have copyrights on unique strains we've created, like the Hyper Malinois that the Undaunted are using as military working dogs and police K9s, but anyone who wants to, and can acquire the appropriate data, can clone themselves a Belgian Malinois."

"...I see." He writes a sharp, aggressive note on his table. "I apologize Admiral Bridger, it seems one of my legal counsels got ahead of themselves or perhaps got confused."

"Galactic law can be like that. Our fairly small conglomerate maintains law offices on retainer in a thousand individual star systems and a hundred odd broad stellar nations such as the Apuk Star Empire, or the Mekken Reach. Thankfully everyone has to do that so the cost to establish a relationship with a good firm upfront is quite small, and the annual retainer is very manageable."

"..."

Observer Wu takes another few notes and mutters to himself. Jerry didn't catch all of it, but was fairly certain he heard the word 'absurd' at least once.

"I suppose we'll set that issue aside for now then. Returning to the subject of your defection from Earth to the Undaunted..."

"The Undaunted are a pan-national, pan-galactic Human and Earth focused organization first and foremost, so I will disagree with the description of what I, or any other member of the Dauntless's crew, have done as 'defecting'. We followed orders. We remain ready to follow legitimate orders from the Earth on behalf of the Human race."

"...And of course any single nation acting only on its behalf's orders would not be legitimate."

"Of course. Admiral Cistern formed the Undaunted because we needed actual political power to complete the only true mission objectives we had when we left Earth. Make first contact, easily done. Confirm the nature of the galaxy outside of 'Cruel Space', again, simple enough, and if the galaxy has potential for Human advancement, to prepare the way for all mankind to leave Cruel Space. That one’s a bit more difficult. However, we are continuing those missions to this day."

"So the conquest of say, the world of Vucsa 5 advances Humanity somehow?"

"A habitable, stable world ripe for Human colonization certainly seems like it advances our mission. As does terraforming the world we received from Cannid Solutions. We've done all sorts of things, a lot of it in the name of making friends, and as I'm sure you know from your days in Hong Kong, having friends in a rough neighborhood is the difference between life and death."

"What personally have you done to advance your mission? If you are indeed so loyal to it."

Jerry smiles, he'd gotten the Observer on to his pace. He was winning this part of the match at the very least, especially after making Wu concede one of his initial points.

"I've secured several critical alliances for the Undaunted and Humanity, as well as negotiated a massive mining concern, an entire star system, joining the Undaunted. I believe you know Admiral Cisten's plan for a series of relay stations at the border of Cruel Space to receive outbound parties and ease their transition to galactic space... and more importantly keep colonists safe from any predators that might want to take a bite out of them."

Jerry reaches out and holds up the plate that had his mostly eaten lunch on it.

"That mining concern can provide enough materials to make a new machine Earth, never mind some space stations. More important in my mind however is with the help of my family's business, I have proliferated Human goods throughout large swathes of the galaxy. Earth meat is now associated with 'quality', if not 'luxury' and Humans have become all the more real for a galaxy that didn't actually believe in us for a long time there. Probably still don't in many places. Thanks to my wife Sylindra's work, Humanity can be associated with something more than just a hologram, or story. It can be as real as a...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Betty-Adams on 2024-10-28 23:25:44+00:00.

Humans are Weird - Dirty

Original Post:

Notes the Passing Changes gingerly eased the longer stick up, out of the fermented mass of detritus and foreign fungus and bacteria. The nearly dormant domestic culture on the stick immediately began to revive, sending delighted signals up tendrils to Notes the Passing Changes’s local focal nodes. A sense of satisfaction washed through the network as the stick was carefully placed in a balance of fading sunlight and long evening shadow. However the reaction was slower now, almost sluggish and Notes the Passing Changes decided to let the situation rest for the night.

Sandy’s efforts, his singular efforts unaided by any of the other sapients in the colony, to shift the worst of the mass of fermenting biomass had already worked wonders for Notes the Passing Changes’s clarity of thought and clearness of observation in not only this sector of the forest but throughout the local network. The mid-winter floods had been numerous, laying down layer after layer of oxygen poor silt over a critical tendril junction, and the busy spring had prevented the local motile sapients from having the time or energy to shift the mass. Finally Sandy, noting some sign of distress in Notes the Passing Changes had simply gathered a few lever based hand tools and had spent a long day in the forest wet-lands, moving biomass at Notes the Passing Changes directions. Eventually Pat had arrived to order her mate back to their dwelling place for a ‘shower’, food, and rest, but the results were by then more than sufficient for Notes the Passing Changes to continue alone. Satisfied that the local micro-fauna would continue the healing work over the night Notes the Passing Changes shifted awareness focal points to the deadwood dwelling that housed Pat and Sandy.

Notes the Passing Changes politely knocked in the walls to announce the presence of another sapient awareness in the house and tapped into the visual sensors on the houseplant they kept for just such use. Sandy had mumbled a greeting, giving an auditory clue and allowing Notes the Passing Changes to angle the leaves of the plant to observe the human.

Sandy was wearing only a thin layer around his core trunk and was sprawled over the blocky couches humans preferred, holding a cold canister of fluid in one hand. The human did not turn his head to address the communications plant as usual buy only stared at an empty space on the far wall. He was still expressing significant amounts of carbon dioxide, which the plant appreciated, and his thermal image glowed with the low grade injury indicators of successful exercise. His outer membrane however, appeared to be somewhat vasoconstricted, possibly due to a habit of his called a cold shower where he exposed himself to water below the comfort level of a mammal of his size for mysterious health reasons. As Notes the Passing Changes observed the human gave a violent twitch, rubbed a hand over his face and took a small volume drink from the canister.

“I wished to thank you for your assistance today,” Notes the Passing Changes stated.

Sandy released a grunt of air that sounded vaguely happy and adjusted his free hand into a shape that indicated either general approval or agreement.

“I hope you did not over work yourself,” Notes the Passing Changes went on.

“Nah,” Sandy said with a yawn, before his words were interrupted with another shudder. “It was the perfect late spring workout.”

“May I ask why your body is generating those spasms?” Notes the Passing Changes asked, more curious than concerned.

It was clear that Sandy’s body was glowing with mammalian health, and if to confirm this the human burst out laughing.

“Noticed that did ya?” He asked. “Well in case you hadn’t noticed all that muck I was forking around today was nasty!”

“Indeed,” Notes the Passing Changes agreed. “I did notice. That is why I requested assistance in shifting it.”

“Nasty an’ mucky,” Sandy went on with another shudder, “an’ it got all down in me’ clothes. Sticks poking me’ skin. More than a bit ‘o muck in me’ eyes, and nose, and mouth. Fling enough muck and it goes everywhere. Sticking to me’ back and me’ front, and even in me’ shoeen!”

“Yes,” Notes the Passing Changes agreed again. “I observed that at the time. What is resulting in your shuddering movements now?”

Sandy drew and deep breath and stared at the wall a long moment before answering.

“Can still feel ‘em,” he muttered before taking another drink.

“Did you not just ‘shower’ to remove all particles from your outer membrane?” Notes the Passing Changes asked.

Sandy nodded and went to take another drink only to find the canister empty. He looked into it mournfully before shuddering again and swinging his body upright with some sounds of effort.

“Washed up good,” he agreed as he lumbered towards the kitchen, “but I’ll still be feeling all the muck and bits till my brain gets as good a clean as my body.”

“And how will you do that?” Notes the Passing Changes asked in growing interest.

Every text book said the human brain was well protected against particulate contamination.

“Sleep,” Sandy said in an almost reverent tone as he reached the sink and began to refill the canister. “Can’t just yet, else I’ll be up with the moon, but it’ll take a good night’s sleep to get the bits of muck out o’ my brain.”

Sandy wandered back into the resting area and dropped onto the couch. Notes the Passing Changes decided to wait until Pat was out of her shower to peruse the topic as Sandy still seemed more interested in that empty spot on the wall.

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/PepperAntique on 2024-10-28 23:04:55+00:00.

Previous / First

Writer's Note: Journeys continue for everybody. And Joey and Noodle find something to bond over. Hatred of annoying forest critters.

Enjoy.

Joey grunted as he made it over the last few feet of the path and up onto the vista overlooking the small valley in front of him.

Ykmir had been correct about it being a difficult path to take, and also about it being cold. He pulled the collar of his new jacket up as a gust of wind kicked up and brought a chill with it.

The chill was quickly dismissed as Noodle crawled up the path beside him, using her inner heat to keep herself warm.

She looked at him with the same distrust she'd shown ever since the clearing, and he had a feeling that that was gonna stick around for a while.

At least now she was letting him touch her without issue. A privilege he exercised as she strode past. He reached out and let his hand run down her side, giving the occasional scratch as he did. The warmth within the drake's core was akin to a campfire, and made his hands feel worlds better than the simple gloves he was wearing.

Ykmir hadn't been wrong about the cold. And he also hadn't been wrong about the danger of the mountains.

He'd been traveling through them for the better part of a week now. And already he'd narrowly avoided dying at the hands of several landslides, a wind storm that had battered the both of them with hail and the gritty dirt around them, several minor quakes, and one wandering air elemental that they'd both instinctively hidden from in a naturally formed hollow at the base of a tree.

The elemental hadn't been anywhere near as impressive as the fire elemental that had ravaged the capital. But it had still been a forty foot high wind monster that had legitimately looked like the Tornado Titan from the old Hercules movie of his parent's childhood. It had been wandering between several of the smaller peaks aimlessly, picking things up and tossing them around like an infant throwing a tantrum. They'd had to wait several hours before it had simply.... dissipated into the air again.

Oh, and there were the creatures he was starting to think of as the shit-slingers.

He'd heard of them, somewhat. Some of the tavern patrons had mentioned getting harassed by them on their way to a mine near the town he'd left. According to those chit-chatters at the tavern they were actually called canyon slingers. But given their tendency to throw anything they could get their hands on, even if it was their own excrement, and the fact that their mocking noises were made by pursing their lips and making rather.... gaseous.... noises. Joey had come to think of them as shit-slingers.

They were roughly the size of a toddler, maybe fifty or sixty pounds at most. And the closest thing he could think of to compare them to were gibbons from Earth. Gibbons if they'd developed their arms like gorillas, and had ignored their legs to the point that they were almost vestigial.

They were, for whatever reason, endemic to this region of the mountains.

And after the first few days, Joey could honestly say that they were on the very, VERY, short list of things he absolutely hated. 

As he rounded the bend in the small path they'd chosen, Joey saw another forest in front of them, similar to the ones they'd already come through, and he picked his shield back up from where it hung on his arm. It was actually just a piece of tree trunk that was roughly the size of a shield, which he'd fashioned simple arm straps for. But it did the trick.

And sure enough, as they neared the trees he began to hear the familiar farting noise that the shit-slingers used as a warning cry of some kind.

"I fucking hate these things." He said as he heard the, increasingly familiar, rumble of Noodle getting ready to use her fire.

A tree branch flew at him and he blocked it easily as his eyes glowed lightly.

The second it thunked off of his shield a jet of fire flew at its source and one of the monkey-like creatures yowled as it scurried off into the deeper woods.

It was kind of nice to think that Noodle was, at least to some degree, protective of him. Although it wasn't impossible that she was also just as annoyed by the things as he was.

But, unfortunately, there was never only ONE of the shit slingers.

Joey held his shield up over his head and thanked himself for having the forethought to ensure that his outer layers of clothing were all at least semi-waterproof. There had already been a few times, thanks to the slingers, where he'd needed to use his enchanted ewer to wash off their.... mess... while he'd been setting camp for the night.

This was going to be a long portion of the trip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Papers please." The blue armored guard outside the city gate demanded with an outstretched hand.

Gorna produced their papers as Five finished with the bit of crochet she'd been working on as they waited in line.

"Say." Gorna said with a note of curiosity, causing Five to look up. "I've never been here before. Are you a member of the Cobalt Legion?"

"I am." The guard said as he inspected their papers. His off hand was tapping at the side of his ornate helmet. He waited for a few moments, and both of them could feel some kind of magical effect happening to the helmet, though it was hard to tell what. "Ah, you're the Earth travelers. Yes?"

They both nodded.

"I've wanted to see this place since I was just a child." Gorna said. And it wasn't a lie. "Even in Vatria we've heard of some of the amazing inventions that have come from this place. And now with the new Gates." She gestured at the crowd around them. "I can see why you would be so busy."

"Right." The guard saidThe as he handed their papers back. "Earth has already had their demonstration. But yes. It's become quite the sight. Mages from all over are coming to inspect them." They shrugged, causing the blue armor to clank and rattle slightly. "Seem to be forgetting that the Duke doesn't let things work like that." He gestured toward the open city gate with his helmeted head. "Now if you don't mind, the Duke would like you to visit him at your earliest convenience. Please enjoy your stay in Ostielle."

There was no question in the last statement, and the Cobalt Legionnaire was already gesturing for the next visitors to move forward and present their paperwork.

"First the King. Now a Duke." Gorna wondered as she trotted through the large gateway. "We seem to be a hot commodity."

"I thought this city was run by a lord?" Five questioned as she tucked away her needles and the incomplete sweater in one of the saddlebags.

"Must have been promoted thanks to the new Gates." Gorna replied. "Makes sense. That's a proper shake up for the nation's status among the other countries of the world."

The two of them paused as they finally got past the cities outer walls.

"Jesus Christ." Five said as she stood up and braced herself on Gorna's shoulders.

"This is.... not what I imagined of a city famed for its mages." Gorna said as she took in the sight before them.

"It's a shit-hole." Five said flatly. "I've blown up E.A.C. dirt villages that look like mansions compared to this place."

As they stood there, taking in the overwhelmingly haphazard construction of the city, a person was sent flying from one building's third floor window. It wasn't like they'd been thrown, but more like they'd been launched by a catapult. And they crashed into a building across the street with an explosion of straw and feathers.

"What the fuck?" Five asked, beating Gorna to it by a split second.

"Success number ten!" The person yelled as they stood up from among the mess of, what was apparently a landing pad for whatever they were doing. "Add more power!"

"Just the mage's quarter." An older man in fancy clothing said as he hobbled past with the assistance of a cane. His right arm was in a sling, yet he still had a long and slender rapier sheathed on his left side. "In about a mile you hit the beginning of the entertainment district. It's a lot less nonsensical after that."

Another person flew overhead with a scream that was equal parts fear and joy.

They... didn't... hit the improvised padding this time, instead impacting on the side of the building behind it and crashing through the wooden structure.

"Failure number seven!" The first flying person called out as the two of them sensed healing magic from out of sight.

"Lets get to that entertainment district." Gorna said, to which Five nodded.

"And then the duke." Five reminded her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Captain Kaladi watched as the commander questioned the people of the town Rangebottom.

He'd gathered them in the town square and had her cordon off the area. Now he was standing up on a box usually used for the towns crier.

"We have the authority of the King. And of my lord, the newly advanced Duke, to find this person." He said. "So any information you bring forth will gain you our favor, and potential rewards from the kingdom."

Kaladi wasn't surprised by the sudden murmur, or the fact that several people immediately raised their hands. Rewards always got answers, just not always useful one.

The Commander ignored them for now and pointed at the large, blue-skinned, half giant who was standing toward the back of the crowd. Sp...
***
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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-10-28 22:53:15+00:00.

First

Weight of Dynasty

“Okay, so it’s clear that a lot is going on. We’re going to need to do THAT.” Arix’Hewth says and Dale nods as well as Arden’Karm. “So we understand each other?”

“I’ve got the idea.” Dale says.

“... Yeah...” Arden’Karm agrees.

“Good, back here in five after our prep.” Arix’Hewth says and all three vanish. Five minutes later Arix’Hewth reappears with some Flinny Flyz merchandise, Dale has a charcoal grill and Arden’Karm has a guidebook on local animals and plants plus a notebook and pen. “Okay, clearly we’ve been misunderstanding each other.”

“Yes. Very much so.” Dale says in an amused tone. “I want to know what’s edible and how can we make it better. If we’re going to be spending time here then good food goes a good way to making things a treat of a time. After all, good food is one of the big differences between surviving and thriving. I like thriving.”

“I want to see how everything has changed by it being a Great Forest... is that the right term?” Arden’Karm asks.

“It works. I want to finish getting you through your personal drama as smoothly as possible... and score a present for my little girl.”

“Which involves talking to Cali’Flynn.”

“Yes. What was the last thing you said to her?”

“I didn’t. She’s a friend of... a lot of my sisters. She’s very much been the unofficial Karm. I have no idea what the last thing I said was. I can barely remember it and I mostly just remember that once again no one could hear me over themselves.”

“Right. And your relationship to her in general?”

“I don’t know her. Not really. She’s always been part of the big crowd that is my sisters and mothers. ... It’s part of why I left. I heard them planning to tell me about an engagement to her and I realized that... it would always be loud. I would always be talked over and always drowning in the noise. I had to leave.”

“Which might have hurt her.” Arix’Hewth says and Arden’Karm gives him an odd look. Dale can see this conversation is going to take a bit so he shrugs and steps away to start setting up the grill. He sends out an alert to the other sorcerers currently connected to The Lush Forest that he’s willing to fully cook and grill anything they bring him in exchange for a bite of it.

“Why are you pushing so much for something to benefit her?”

“I will admit, I do want to spoil my youngest daughter and an autographed Holo-Disk and a story of how I played matchmaker with her favourite celebrity is a hell of a thing. But there’s also the advantage to you.”

“How so?”

“Sorcerers grab a lot of attention wherever we go. When we’re noticed, we’re feared. For good reason. Most of us introduce ourselves with a three to four figure bodycount on average. To say nothing of the trauma and damage to the area. Hypercrete cracked and broken by weeds, roots and flowers might be a beautiful sight, but hypercrete is usually holding up something expensive and smashing it like a dry cracker usually breaks those things.” Arix’Hewth explains to Arden’Karm as Dale behind them gets his first delivery in the form of a handful of small snakes. They get sliced in half lengthwise, the digestive organs removed and skewered to be roasted over a medium flame.

“... Yes. Okay?” Arden’Karm asks after a moment.

“We’re trying to change that. Being feared can be useful. But being loved is generally a lot nicer.”

“So I’m public relations?”

“You’re already on your way. Your first big deed as a sorcerer was to cover and protect people, the worst you did was give a few cuts. You already have a reputation as the mysterious marksman who shows up, places higher and higher in each tournament and then vanishes into the badlands. Or rather ‘Dare’Kemka’ has such a reputation.” Arix’Hewth says as Dale finishes cooking the snakes and starts handing them back, keeping one of the several skewers to try. He then produces a bottle of barbecue sauce from an expanded pocket and dabs it with the sweet mixture.

“So you want me to... no. I don’t want that kind of attention.”

“Why not?” Arix’Hewth asks.

“Because people won’t leave me alone if I do.”

“And if you want to be alone, you can be at any time. Even right now, if you really don’t want to listen, you can just woodwalk away and I can’t stop you. I can try to follow. But games of tag with Sorcerers are a waste of time for the chaser, you can keep running and while I can keep chasing I won’t get anything done.” Arix’Hewth says as another delivery arrives for Dale.

The man’s eyebrows go up to see the armoured creature who’s segmented outer shell resembles a rock and a bit of muscle is needed to force it to uncoil and reveal it’s actually mammal underneath. “You know you don’t have to so damn literal with the Bonechewer title... this’ll be an interesting one.”

Brin’Char just roles his eyes, but watches with interest as Dale removes the snout with teeth, claws and slices open the underbelly of the creature to get the bladder out and then coils it up again. He proceeds to turn up the heat on his grill and close the top so it can roast inside it’s own shell. “I’m thinking ten minutes for the first try, then we open it up and see what it looks like. Not totally sure if it’s safe to eat rare, so let’s go for well done.”

“Just don’t burn it.”

“Sir! I am insulted! Do you really think that...” Dale begins to protest and Brin’Char points to the grill, or more specifically at the plume of smoke rising up from it. “Yeah, there was still some hair and dust on it. What’s your point?”

Brin’Char holds up his hands as if in surrender.

“I think I should take things one step at a time. Get used to being with my family again before going to see anything about Cali’Flynn.”

“Probably for the best. I’d like for things to happen quickly. But this is your life.”

“It’s probably going to be fast anyways. I know my sisters. They’ve already called her. Guaranteed.”

“Really?”

“Secrets don’t survive in Karm homes. If one of them knows something, the rest of them do. It’s faster than our link to The Forest. Somehow.”

“And Cali’Flynn is an unofficial member.”

“Yes. Yes she is. The pairing of me and her is basically marrying family without incest.”

“I can see why you ran.”

“I thought you liked her?”

“My daughter likes her. I like my daughter. Beyond that her music is background noise to me now. I have to pay attention to actually hear it.”

“Well she’s hearing about it right now if she hasn’t already.”

•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•

“Oh my goddess!” A voice screams out in shock and a lithe Apuk woman loses her balance in the surprise and stumbles mid dance practice. “Flynni! There’s big news!”

“Really? What?” Cali’Flynn asks as she hops up quickly. The newest mini-skirt was working great. They were nearly see through like an insect wing and showed off her skin tight shorts underneath in hot pink. Much like the top of the outfit was also made to look like a big bug was trying and failing to cover her up with wings alone. Minus the bug itself. Just the mostly transparent wings for her crop top sweater and skirt. Coupled with her belly shirt under the ‘sweater’ and her hair dyed to match with a few animatronic bugs acting as pins to keep it in place and she looked like the Apuk Queen of Bugs in the cutest way.

“Read it! Read it! Read it! Reeaaad iiiiittt!” Her band member Urani Flyz, or Shar’Uran offstage, has Flynni’s communicator and hands it to her as she runs in, her bat-wing styled outfit stands out against her bright blond hair and it’s golden highlights. It’s almost the same as Flynn’s despite it being dark blue. On the communicator is a single message from some of her oldest besties, the same message in twenty different phrasings. They’ve got him back. He’s back. We have him.

Arden’Karm is found, safe and healthy.

“Oh my Goddess!” Flynni exclaims excitedly.

“Does this mean we’re getting that impossibly cute little man as a mascot?” Urani asks bouncing on her heels and Flynni’s eyes dart to the small collage of pictures on her dresser. It’s filled with images from her childhood, mostly selfies with different Karm family members, but right in each corner are four different pictures. Each one showing a dark haired Apuk boy with the same horns as the Karm family. But he’s always looking thoughtful, focused on whatever he’s doing and not seeing the picture being taken.

One has him playing a many stringed instrument with headphones attached to the speakers, one has him mixing something in a large bowl with absolute concentration, the next has him decorating a massive cake and the last is him simply napping in a plush chair, looking so small as to be swallowed up by the cushions.

“Maybe? I dunno, but I do know where I’m eating tonight! I can’t wait to see him again! We never got to fully announce that his sisters were setting him up with me before he vanished!”

“Oh that’ll be a nice surprise! You think he knows about Five Flyz?”

“Who doesn’t? We’re only the hottest new sound on Soben’Ryd!” Flynni says confidently. “We might be able to get a little something more. I told you he’s a classical lover right?”

“You did...”

“Well...”

“Think he might join the band?! Oh that! That’s a thought! Although we’ll need a rebrand... Soaring Six? Five Flyz and a Guy?” Urani asks.

“Either way, I need to see him first. Oh, I can only imagine what he might have been through! There was a strange note left behind ...

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/DestroyatronMk8 on 2024-10-28 22:46:08+00:00.

First | Previous

"I have done it!" Scarrend's triumphant roar reverberated through the training room. "A fatal blow!"

Mims picked himself up off the deck. The human didn't move like he was worse for wear, but Yvian was sure he was in pain. Or maybe not. The man might have activated his void armor's PAIN REMOVAL.

"Good hit," said the human.

"Good hit?" The Vrrl was practically vibrating with excitement. "Good hit!? I killed you Scargiver! If not for your armor, your throat would be gone!"

"Like I said," Mims drawled. "Good hit."

The training room was one of several. The Dream of the Lady was over a kilometer long, and while most of it was filled with spare parts and food production, there was still plenty of space for amenities. This particular room was actually three rooms put together. The floor and ceiling were padded, along with three of the walls. The fourth wall was lined with melee weapons and sparring equipment. Mims called it the Dojo.

The Dream of the Lady was floating in one of the empty sectors they'd passed through previously. The engines had been under repair for the last six days. Scarrend and Lissa had been helping Kilroy control the drones at first, but Mims had pulled Yvian aside. He'd suggested they take this opportunity to get some training in. Yvian had agreed.

"Did you see, Captain?" Scarrend's upper arms were waving in the air. "Did you see? I killed the Scargiver!" His lower arms pointed emphatically at Mims.

"I saw," said Yvian. She was glad she was wearing her helmet. Scarrend's excitement was adorable, and her smile reflected that. She didn't want to insult the man. "Congratulations, Scarrend."

She remembered the first time she'd managed to hit the human. She'd been ecstatic for days. After over a year of failure, knocking Mims on his ass had felt like the greatest moment of her life. Of course, her strike wouldn't have killed the human. She wasn't a super strong murder-beast with claws.

Scarrend roared again. The roar of a Vrrl was deafening, and had a paralyzing affect on the nervous system, but Yvian's helmet protected her. "Behold the Way of the Starfang!"

The Way of the Starfang was a style Scarrend had been developing with help from Mims. The human had taught the Vrrl how humans fought, but human techniques did not take advantage of the Vrrl's strength, natural weapons, or second pair of arms. Scarrend had spent the last three days trying to use it against the human, but Mims had stayed one step ahead. Until now.

"I'm glad you're excited," said the human. "I'd bake a cake if you liked sweets."

"I cannot taste sweet," Scarrend reminded him, "but I appreciate the thought." He roared again. "Victory!"

"You managed to hit me." the human continued, "and that's worth celebrating, but you only managed to hit me once." He took a stance. "Do you think you can do it again?"

The Vrrl stopped hopping in excitement. An eager light filled all three of his eyes as he regarded the human. "Let's find out."

The first exchange went poorly. Scarrend tried to snatch the human's arm, but Mims was ready and reversed the move. The Vrrl was brought to his knees by a joint lock.

"Match," Yvian called. "Reset."

"I'm not finished," the Vrrl protested. "I could..." Mims bore down on his wrist, stopping just short of breaking it.

"Match," Yvian insisted. "Reset."

"Yes Captain." The Vrrl lowered his head in disappointment.

Six more attempts ended in failure. Yvian called for a break and threw a water bottle at Mims. The human removed his helmet and drank greedily. Yvian got a bottle of her own. Hers was filled with beer.

"I don't understand," said Scarrend. "Why isn't it working, now?"

"Two reasons," The human leaned against one of the walls. "First, you're still predictable. You keep looking where you're about to strike instead of using your peripheral vision, and you're reacting to my movements instead of forcing me to react to you." He took another drink. "We've talked about that before."

Scarrend grunted.

"Second, you're not abusing your advantages enough." Mims finished his water. "You've got four arms, Scarrend. You should be latching on every time I go for a joint lock. Hell, if you get ahold of me at all you can throw me around like I'm nothing.

"You don't need to aim for his weak spots, either," Yvian cut in. "We have to do that because you're a lot tougher than us. You're strong enough to hit almost anywhere and turn our bones to powder." She took a drink of her own. "More lines of attack will make you harder to predict."

"I smell." Scarrend finished his own water and stretched. "Are you ready to continue, Scargiver?"

"Sure." Mims took another sip, then handed the bottle back to Yvian. He put his helmet on. "Let's see what you got."

The next two exchanges went to Mims. The human easily saw through Scarrend's attempt at a tackle, tossing him to the ground. The Vrrl tried for a grab next, only to find himself on the ground with one of his arms held out straight behind him.

"Match," Yvian called. "Reset."

"You're trying too hard," the human told him. "Thinking too much."

"How do I outsmart you if I'm not thinking?" Scarrend demanded.

"You don't need to outsmart me," Mims answered. "You need to overwhelm me. Use your physicality. Hit me with more than I can deal with."

The Vrrl growled. "I will try."

"Don't try," said Mims. "Don't even think. Just do it." He raised a finger. "When there is an opening, I do not hit."

"It hits all by itself," Scarrend finished the quote. His eyes widened. "I understand, now."

"Show me."

They took their stances. Scarrend let out a roar and advanced, all four arms lashing wildly. The human danced back, dodging and blocking. The Vrrl's eyes narrowed, focusing on the man's head and shoulders. He surged forward, dropping the wild swings in favor of tight efficient movements as his training took over. Mims tried to reposition, looking for a counter, but Scarrend gave him no room to react. In just under twelve seconds, the Vrrl slipped a set of claws through his guard to rake against his armor.

"Match!" Yvian barked. "Reset. Good job."

"I..." The Vrrl panted. "I did it again..."

"That's what you want," Mims agreed. "You don't need to process each individual move. Let your conscious mind pick the strategy, and trust your instincts and training to do the rest."

Scarrend tried the same strategy again. Mims was ready this time. He darted to the side, spinning into a kick just outside the reach of the Vrrl's claws. Scarrend caught his ankle and yanked the human off the ground with brute force. He roared and whipped the human around, slamming him into the deck.

"Match," Yvian called. "Reset."

"Gimme a minute." Mims groaned. "I need to rethink my life choices."

The rest of the hour saw Scarrend making mincemeat out of the human. Mims still won sometimes, but an increasingly confident Scarrend overwhelmed him more often than not. The human was more skilled, more savvy, and more efficient, but Scarrend's superior strength and extra arms let him bridge the gap.

"I think that's enough for today," Captain Yvian decided.

Mims took off his helmet and slumped, sitting against a padded bulkhead. His nose and mouth were smeared with blood, and his hair was matted with sweat. "I think I need some time in the pod."

Scarrend laughed. "I know that shouldn't make me happy. But it does." He held out a hand. Mims took it. The Vrrl hauled him to his feet with ease. "Thank you, Scargiver. Perhaps I should be the one baking you a cake."

Mims chuckled. "I'll pass. The last time someone baked me a cake it almost killed me."

"That was one time," Yvian objected.

"Once is enough." Mims smiled at her with bloody teeth.

A rhythmic rumbling filled the Dojo. The Vrrl purred in front of them. Yvian walked up and wrapped her arms around the beast. Scarrend reached out and pulled Mims in, too. The three of them hugged.

"Do you know this means?" Scarrend's voice was thick.

"It means you're more dangerous than the Warmaster," said Yvian. "You're the only Vrrl to ever beat Mims."

"No." Scarrend's arms squeezed a little tighter. "Well. Yes, I suppose. But no. It means you were right, Captain. The Vrrl truly can reach the Apex." He purred louder. "We really can be more than we are." He sniffled. His hug tightened even more.

"You want to ease up there, Scarrend?" Mims grunted. "I'm a little delicate right now."

"Heh."

Mims wandered out of the Dojo, muttering something about beer and med-pods. Scarrend watched him go. He was still purring, but a slight frown appeared. "He did not seem upset at his loss."

"He isn't," said Yvian. She went to get herself another beer, but her cooler was empty.

"I would be," the Vrrl admitted. "Any Vrrl would be furious to be surpassed by a student."

"Humans don't think that way," Yvian explained. "He told me once. The goal of a mentor is to be surpassed. If you never managed to beat him, he'd consider it a failure."

"He wanted to lose?" Scarrend's frown deepened. "To be helpless in my claws?"

"Yes."

"Madness." Scarrend shook his head. "Humans are mad."

"It's how they make progress," said Yvian. "Each generation tries to boost the next, so the humans are always improving. Always reaching higher." Now it was her turn to frown. "I don't think I'll ever reach higher than Mims....

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Hot-West9928 on 2024-10-28 20:33:04+00:00.

Still a busy with work, so I have not much time answering all your comments. However I hope you like where the story is going. We're almost at the end of the third act!

First_Previous_

Royal Road_wiki

°Didn't you want to close this whole adventure to your satisfaction?° The human asked.

°I did not expect you just to accept getting thrown out with minimal protest.°

°It's not like you complained. You know how those "adult" Ice-kin are.° Mor sighed.

°Yeah. They are stubborn as fuck, and pressuring or threatening wouldn't work. We might be able to punt the Snow chief across the room in a surprise attack, but we can't fight the whole city. So what's the plan?° The human stated.

°The plan?° Mor asked innocently.

°Don't play with me. I know you haven't given up like that.° The human said flatly, and then a revelation occurred.

°OH! You're going with plan D.°

°Plan D?°Mor asked, confused.

°Getting Dino to fix your problems.°

°Dino is not going to fix a problem. It's a curiosity I want answered. Asking Elly might get results, but not if she promised to keep quiet. Still, Mother talked to the chief, so I will ask her instead.° Mor stated.

°True enough. However, you still will need to talk to Dino.° The human demanded.

°Why?° Mor asked, more like trying to seem clueless than being it.

However, the human's drawn-out silence gave him all the answers to how it had worked, namely, absolutely not at all.

°Anyway. Don't you think it strange that it was your mother talking to the chief alone? Where was the Soul-kin representative? Meaning Dino, or your father for that matter?° The human asked, giving Mor pause.

°You're right. However, it is my mother we're talking about. So Dino was probably letting her run loose to evade a rampage by containing her. Meaning she just pestered the chief about my whereabouts. More so with the whole commotion.° Mor guessed.

°Do you really think that? Isn't that a bit careless, even for someone like Dino?° The human asked, and Mor had to agree.

Mor would get the answer to that question when he left the house and returned to his mother, who instantly berated him for running off. However, Mor quickly calmed her down and interrupted the tirade with the question of what was going on.

"I don't know," Sophie answered, the inquiry, and Mor looked at her in confusion.

"But the commotion! And you talked to the chief!" Mor asked, exasperated.

"Yes! Dino wouldn't tell me anything before running off, so I was very worried about you. Everyone in the city noticed that hunters returned hurt or not at all." Sophie pouted.

"What do you mean, with Dino ran off?" Mor asked with a sigh.

"Really, Mor?" Sophie asked. "Do you think Dino has the time just to sit around and wait until you return? He went back home a while ago, just about a week after you left."

"Right," Mor said. "Makes sense. However, for me, it's quite unfortunate."

"Well, don't think about that idiot. His loss. Even Tia bailed." Sophie lamented.

"I see," Mor said. "Thank you for staying."

His bright smile got him another tight hug from his mother, her happiness quite obvious.

"However, I still need to ask Dino a favor and want to know what happened here. Therefore, I will need to talk to him, " Mor said, and Sophie nodded.

"Can you hold off until we're back home?" She asked, but Mor shook his head.

"No. Maybe, for the question of what was going on here, but not for the favor." He stated.

"Then best get it over with. Your magic does work again, right?" Sophie relented.

"I hope so," Mor confessed, then took a deep breath and concentrated, the connection successfully forming.

"Dino?" He asked.

"Mor? I see your connection is restored, and the spell is working again. However, I don't have much time, so what can I do for you?" A busy sounding Dino stated.

"Then I will get right to the point." Mor acknowledged. "Do you know what's happening in the Ice-kin city?"

There was a long pause, and then Dino's confused voice returned. "What do you mean?"

"If you don't want to tell us, please say so," Mor stated.

"Yeah, we're not dumb." The human added.

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about." He said.

"Strange, Mother said you spoke with the chiefs but didn't tell her anything," Mor said.

"I did not. I know I shouldn't brag, but this failing is also a personal strength. I'm able to trust my friends and share my concerns," Dino said. "However, this explains why Sophie was so annoyed at me the last time we talked."

"The Ice-kin would not tell me anything else, so I had hoped you knew something. But if not you, who talked to the chiefs?" Mor asked.

"That's what I want to know. Someone walking around with my face can only be illusion magic. Also, in a potency that can only be found in Soul-kin. I'll need to investigate that." Dino mused.

"Did I tell you that magic is bullshit?" The human asked.

"Yes." Both answered.

"Well, it is a mystery for another time. Was that all you needed from me?" Dino said.

"Not exactly," Mor said, unsure how to go about it.

"Mor wants to use his favor." The human blurted out.

"Oh? You decided?" Dino asked.

"More like got my decision made for me," Mor grumbled.

"You can't help it. You have been adopted." The human stated.

"What does adopted mean?" Dino asked.

"Well." Mor started.

"We found a friend, and it adopted us." The human said proudly.

"Could you please shut up for a second? You're making it worse." Mor growled.

"Then stop beating around the bush! I feel bad for Fix." The human grumbled.

"We are not calling it Fix." Mor protested.

"Mor? What are you two talking about?" Dino asked with a stern voice.

"You're aware of those mutated monstrosities." Mor started.

"Yes?" Dino answered in a careful voice.

"We found a non-hostile one," Mor said.

"No! Not a chance. That's impossible!" Dino shouted.

"You didn't even listen!" The human complained.

"You are not keeping a monstrosity! Those things are dangerous! They kill kin." Dino stated.

"It doesn't, " the human protested. It's just a cute little vampire illusion fox!"

"What is a vampire and fox?" Dino asked.

"A fox is a little critter, and I call it a vampire because it drinks a bit of blood," the human proudly said.

"Idiot." Mor sighed.

"See! It drinks blood! So it is dangerous!" Dino growled.

"It doesn't kill someone. It hides with its illusions and just nibbles a bit." The human defended the critter.

"No," Dino stated.

"Come on!" The human said.

"Dino," Mor stated. I know what you're feeling. I did so, too, but Mirage is intelligent, cute, and harmless. At first, I was also scared, but the human convinced me otherwise. It's just something we never explored further. The monstrosities are changing, and that means we have to adapt."

"But it's a monstrosity. They are evil." Dino said.

"I know, just as much as every Ice-kin is a mindless barbarian, and the Soul-kin are useless without magic." Mor countered.

"You have another view on things, " Dino said, defeated.

"I understand and will grant your wish. However, if that monstrosity hurts someone, it's dead, and you will answer for that. Don't let me regret putting so much trust in you." Dino decided.

"Those terms are acceptable," Mor stated.

"Yeah!" The human added.

The connection was severed, and Mor got thoughtful.

°Who was that Dino impostor, and what did he want?° He asked.

°I don't know. However, that is not important right now. First, we also have to tell your mother about Mirage. And I must admit that name is far better than Fix.° The human stated, just as Mor felt something fluffy brush by his legs. Something small and quite invisible.

°Do you think Mirage can hear us?° The human asked when Mor reacted to the touch.

°Who knows.° Mor answered with a shrug.

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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/LiseEclaire on 2024-10-28 20:26:32+00:00.

“Choose!” the girl shouted, slamming the maw of a giant wolf with a thirty-pound dumbbell.

The crunch of shatter bone mixed with a yelp, as the monster pulled back.

“Just pick one! It doesn’t matter which.”

“Don’t rush me!” the boy snapped. “We’ve never gotten this far before. If I can figure this out, we might—”

“There isn’t time!”

The girl made a high somersault in the air, landing on the monster’s spine.

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Bone shattered

Fatal Wound Inflicted

The crimson glow faded from the beast’s eyes as it let out its final breath. The smell of ozone filled the air. The black fur covering the monster faded away, becoming transparent.

“It’s one of these two,” the boy said, eyes darting between two subway columns. “I’m sure this time. All I have to do is—”

Four arrows split the air, piercing the girl’s chest. There was a dull sound after which patches of blood emerged through the white blouse round the shafts that were sticking out.

“Ely?”

The boy turned in her direction, but it was already too late. The strength leaving her, she collapsed on the giant monster corpse.

“No!” The boy rolled to the other side of the nearest column. He couldn’t see the archer, but knew he was there, preparing for another shot. There’d only be one chance to get out of this. All he had to do was make the right choice.

One out of two options. There was a fifty-fifty chance to get it right. Not the best odds, but he wasn’t going to get anything better.

Stretching out, the boy touched the mirrored metal surface of the column. Scratches spread from his fingers causing the metal to twist.

“Come on, come on!” the boy whispered, tensely looking around.

Meanwhile, the scars formed words.

Congratulations, ROGUE! You have made progress.

Restarting eternity.

“Damn it!” the boy shouted. He had been so close and yet so far away. He had wasted months, severed friendships all for this one chance! Now he had to start everything from the beginning and he didn’t think he had the strength for it.

Another dull thump sounded. Looking down, the boy saw the tip of an arrow sticking through his chest.

Restart impossible! You have broken eternity.

“Shit…” the boy coughed as he collapsed on the floor. This was one outcome he hadn’t imagined.

DANIEL KEEN, your eternity slot has been vacated.

Awaiting new participant…

* * *

News of the death was all over social media. Theories ranged from stress induced heart attack to outright suicide. According to friends and family, Daniel was a kind and quiet boy who studied diligently and never got into any sort of trouble. Described as slightly introverted, he tended to spend a lot of his time online, as did most children his age, playing games or looking at college options. There were no money problems or bullying, as far as they were aware, making his death utterly unexpected. Schoolmates, though, presented a very different picture. According to them, Daniel was highly aggressive, missed more classes than he attended, and never gave a damn about studying. Witnesses claimed that he’d gotten into several fights, both in and out of school and on one occasion had even busted up the school’s toilets.

Faced with two opposing accounts, the local authorities and the school itself had conducted a discreet investigation. The findings were never made public, but a brief announcement explained the case away as an undiagnosed medical condition. The vice-principal of Enigma Arts and Science High School, made a public address, requesting that the matter be put to rest for the sake of the family. That only caused the rumors to grow.

“A reminder to all students,” an announcement echoed through the halls and classrooms. “We remind you to take care of your physical and mental health. There is no shame in seeking help. The school counselor’s door is open at all times. With midterms approaching, we think that—”

What a load of crap, Will said to himself.

The school didn’t give a damn about the state of its students. It was all about appearance. Daniel and several others had caused problems for months, and yet all the complaints had gone unheard. At least three people of Will’s class had gone to the principal’s office only to be warned not to spread baseless accusations.

With lots of time till the start of class, Will went to the restroom. It was the smelliest place after the gym, but at least it was one of the places that was empty before the second period. Due to the Daniel incident, the school had introduced a new measure, referred to as “bathroom checks,” in their desire to show they were taking matters seriously. In response, the children had stopped going there unless they really had to.

“Hello, boredom,” Will said, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

For a place that was supposedly smashed up, the room was in perfect condition. He had no idea who had started the rumor, but it had spread so fast that it had become part of school lore. Maybe he should just smash them and get done with it? That would make things a bit more interesting.

Clenching a fist, Will struck at his reflection. Inner doubt caused him to stop half an inch from the polished surface, keeping the mirror intact.

“You’re lucky I don’t need the hassle.” He lowered his hand. “Next time, though.”

He made another faux strike, pushing the limit just a bit more. The aim was to stop the moment his knuckles came into contact with the mirror. Yet, no sooner had he touched it that cracks shot out in all directions like a spiderweb.

Shit! Will jumped back.

“This can’t be real.” Such a weak punch shouldn’t have done anything. He had literally touched the mirror… and yet he was staring at the result right now.

There was nothing stopping him from rushing out. With class about to start, no one was going to notice the mess before second period. What was more, he didn’t have any wounds on his fist. As long as he denied it, there wouldn’t be anything linking him to this.

The sound of crunching glass came from the mirror. Afraid it might shatter to pieces, Will placed both hands against it in an attempt to keep it in place. The crunching grew louder. However, instead of falling off, the pieces held together. Before Will’s very eyes, the cracks retreated from the edges, moving back to the original point of impact. After a few seconds, a single dot remained.

What the hell? Slowly, he took his hands off the glass surface.

Welcome to eternity! We hope you enjoy your stay.

Words formed within the mirror. Will closed his eyes and opened them up again, as if hoping that he was experiencing some form of hallucination. Alas, the message was still there.

You have discovered THE ROGUE (number 4).

Use additional mirrors to find out more. Good luck!

The bathroom door briskly swung open.

“Stone!” A large man in a gym uniform stood at the door. He was the stereotypical coach as well as the less stereotypical history teacher. “I warned you about this!”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Will said instinctively. “It was like this when I found—” he stopped. The letters in the mirror had vanished.

“No skipping class! I’ve gotten tons of complaints about you!”

That was an outright lie. For one thing, Will hadn’t been late once. All that the coach wanted to do was make sure no one was doing anything funny in the bathroom. It was one heck of a way to do a “bathroom check” but at least it got Will’s mind off the recent scene.

“Sorry, Coach.” He glanced at the sink, then the mirror once more, just to make sure. “I’m heading to class now.”

“Definitely.” The large man stepped to the side, letting him get into the hallway. “I better not catch you hiding here again.”

Asshole. Will put his earbuds on, then went to the art classroom. Several minutes remained till the start of class. Yet, most of his schoolmates were absent, as was the teacher.

The room stank of cleaning detergent, even with all the windows open. Whatever janitorial was using it had the strength to knock out a herd of elephants. One of these days, it wouldn’t be surprising if the floor gave in, dropping everyone into the basement.

Holding his breath, Will went to his desk in the back of the room. The smell was marginally better there. At least he didn’t risk tearing up.

Turning in the direction of the windows, Will’s glance fell on Daniel’s desk. Even after a week, it remained unoccupied and, by the looks of it, uncleaned. With the amount of scribbles and drawings, the whole thing was better off thrown away. The last few weeks, Daniel had gotten into the habit of using it as a canvas.

“Think anyone will sit here?” Alex asked, leaning over. Known as the class goofball, he never let things such as school warnings and class boundaries keep him from speaking his mind. Some said they were the reason he did so. “I heard he had volunteered for some new study drug,” he added in a whisper. “The heavy shit that lets you function with half an hour sleep per day.”

“Not all of us can be naturally annoying twenty-four seven.”

“Think about it! His fam didn’t know because of the NDAs. And the cops wouldn’t dare meddle to avoid a lawsuit.” He looked about the room, then continued in a hushed voice. “I bet they didn’t even search his desk.”

“They did,” Will said unapologetically.

“Yeah, sure, they glanced at it. I mean really searched. If I were in his shoes, I’d used some gum to stick my stash beneath the d...

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IMPORTANT

We are having a competition. And you can all take part if you so desire. We are doing a writing prompt once more for HoH.

The prizes are three custom rock carvings done by LegalGraveRobber. first place get's first dibs. second place second dibs. and so forth you get the idea. We will ship them anywhere in the world to whoever wins on our bill. if you wanna go have a look at them, hit up the discord.

Submissions have to be sent to me before the 15th of November, after which I shall post all the entries on the HoH subreddit. After which there shall be 2 weeks to vote, which shall happen on the discord as normal.

And your prompt shall be. "A story from Apuma's shelf"

Best of luck to those who wish to take part and I hope you enjoy the story.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Following the departure of Baron, Grevi, and Tiguan, things had stayed busy at the keep. Sapphire had been no exception, working on salting and smoking the last supplies for Deriva. When they were complete, Jarix had been sent on his last trip of the year, the young blue taking on the deteriorating weather without much concern. No one was worried. He was a blue, and it wasn’t really a storm. His crew also had very nice winter gear available, so there should be little difficulty in making the flight.

For the people at the keep, and especially Wiperna and Raulf, the relief of the goats finally being gone had been palpable. Both of them took the evening to relax a little, safe in the knowledge that no damn goat would have gotten out only to show up on the roof of the chicken coop the following day.

But not only had Jarix rid them of the damn goats, he had brought back some fruit and other assorted berries less than a day later. Nothing good or even that sweet, and most of it well on the way to being dried for winter already. That was fixable though with a simple dunking in water. Tom had given up a recipe for them to try. He himself was far too busy, so it had fallen to Sapphire to gather up some volunteers, which she did happily. 

Most of the huntresses were busy, sadly. Dakota and Essy were taking Bo and Pho through some book classes on just what one could pick and what you should really leave alone in the forest. Jacky was of course helping in the forge, a job which Sapphire was quite pleased she hadn’t ended up needing to do. 

Raulf and Wiperna stated they had preparations to do before things got worse for the rest of their animals, much of their time having been dedicated to goat hunting. Ray was cleaning like a madwoman, there still being quite a bit of mess left over after the last hunt. Saph really didn’t want to put further work on the poor cripple, so had left her to it.

Fengi was free though, and she wanted in. She had ended up bringing Unkai along as well. Sapphire did consider going to fetch Maiko, but honestly she had no clue where he might even be. Most likely he would be working on Yldril, which she had no intention of getting involved with. The black dragon really hadn’t taken things well after the verbal bout with Tiguan, or more rightly their reaction to her espousing her opinion so vehemently. 

She had been forced to sleep outside, and had been fed nothing but salted game meat since. Sapphire had been avoiding her as best she could, but Fengi of course could not. The only work there had been for the dragon was assisting with the final moving about of materials to and from the warehouse to make it ready for winter.

The three of them had followed the strange jam recipe to a tee. Converting measurements was a bit tricky, but they managed. The important part was the ratios after all, rather than the actual amounts. The first batch hadn’t come out quite right. Apparently, their homemade jelly wasn’t quite the same as gelatin. What exactly the difference was, Sapphire didn’t know, but she was hardly a stellar cook. 

Tom had also warned them to boil the jars first to make sure they were properly clean. Saph wasn’t quite sure why that would make them cleaner, but she knew better than to question the human's methods. Kulinger had questioned if, perchance, the food situation wasn’t as good as they had all been led to believe when he walked in on them essentially trying to boil soup on a bunch of jars, but he bought the explanation well enough.

At least Sapphire hoped so, else they would be mocked for that one for weeks. Especially if it didn’t work this time. As the second attempt bubbled away on the simple stove in the large steel pot, silence reigned in the kitchen. This time they had used twice as much jelly, but Sapphire thought that maybe they had gotten it too hot last time, so she was watching the fire closely. It was flickering gently inside the old stove, flames licking lazily up the sides of the pot. Fengi and Unkai sat at stools behind her, backs to the large table they often used to work dough or other larger items prior to cooking. 

“Let’s hope this one turns out a little better,” Saph said to no one in particular, just wanting to break the silence as she added a few more dainty pieces of firewood. “It’s our last chance after all. No more berries.”

“Yup,” Fengi replied automatically, Unkai not weighing in. Saph couldn’t believe they didn’t actually have anything to talk about. Well she knew they did. The mood was just a little... quiet. She knew why of course, but how to broach the subject? Should she even?

She honestly did not know as she went to sit down next to Fengi on her own stool as well, all three of them watching the fires now. “Otherwise we will have to wait till next year.”

“Yup,” Fengi replied again, having nothing more to say.

They all stared for a while longer, the crackling fire and the sounds of the keep taking over. The bellows working away down below as Shiva shouted orders. The gentle tap tap tap of Kullinger labouring over gods knew what. Maybe he was repairing some of the old beds for use once more, or maybe Jacky had broken something again which required replacement. The lathe and milling machine weren’t running. Tink, Edita and Tom likely helping out in the forge instead judging by Shiva’s ordering about.

Above them, creaking beams as Jarix shifted in the greeting hall. The pitter patter of little feet on the floor as the kids ran around the dragon, likely playing some sort of game. If they had been higher up, maybe they could have heard Pho getting a question wrong again up in the library as Dakota did her best not to rub her face at the blackboard. 

Up on the highest floor Lothal was taking lessons from Nunuk. Later it would be Dakota’s turn. No one was talking about it, certainly not while Dakota was around, but it was clear what Nunuk was planning. She would be passing on the blade sooner rather than later. The Bizmati family's ancestral fangblade, the symbol of their keep and those who ruled it. Sapphire knew Dakota had always wanted to wield it, but now when it was so close, she clearly doubted she was ready.

Whether she was ready or not, Saph’s guess was that they would have a new lady before the next year was out, maybe even sooner. Perhaps even in time for spring. Now she had no illusions that Nunuk was going to simply throw in the towel. She would be at her daughter's side for as long as her health permitted. But she could no longer fight, nor could she lead by example as she had always done. 

The old Lady would become an advisor, much like her husband had been for many years already. It was rather rare they had need of a mage out here after all. And soon enough Linkosta would be taking over that role anyway. Sapphire knew that the two of them had been busy, working both on the things Tom wanted and that fancy book about dragon magic the Inquisition had gotten them. Linkosta couldn’t stop talking about what she had been learning and, of course, Apuma couldn’t avoid bragging about how smart she was for working so much of it out already.

To Sapphire's knowledge they hadn’t actually tried any of it out yet, but it shouldn’t be too long before Linkosta ran out of patience and Jarix was properly convinced that they knew what they were doing. As for their not-so-beloved inquisitorial friends, Paulin was spending her time doing what she seemed to be best at: listening, watching, and learning. 

Sapphire was certain she would have to help translate more of Tom’s things in the future. It wasn’t the worst job ever, but it was pretty bad. She would likely also have to train with Bo and Pho. Essy and Dakota did have other duties after all, especially Dakota. Though Essy did often spend quite a bit more time with the kids than the rest of them. 

Sapphire would probably be in charge of archery practice, even if the weather was cold. As long as it wasn’t too windy or raining they would go and take a few shots at the targets both on the range and from the sky. 

Outside, Wiperna was tending to her flock. She always got a bit more sentimental as things neared the end. A fair few of their livestock wouldn’t make it through winter. That was by design of course. It was always a feast when something was slaughtered during winter, a brief respite from the normally boring foods. Although this year was to be different; they had a cold box now. 

As they sat and watched, Sapphire’s mind long since having wandered off, Fengi let out a long deep yet still...

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Book 1/ Book 2

First / Previous  /  Next

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

Daniel smiled as he watched Kris and Maverick playing tug of war, with neither quite being able to make any headway against the other, and at the same time he stroked Ripley's head as she attempted to nap with her head on his lap. On the other side of the dog, Milla was staring at him with jealousy as she fought against the urge to try and get Ripley to nap on her instead.

"I want some of that cuteness," Milla quietly grumbled.

"You had them all yesterday afternoon and most of the morning today. Am I not allowed to cuddle for a little bit?" Daniel replied.

"I mean, we can share, right?" Milla proposed.

"That's what we're doing. I have some time cuddling Ripley after all the time you got cuddling them both, and I can also guarantee that you'll get more of them both later."

"But can't I just shift up close and get her head on my lap?"

"That's not sharing, that's stealing," he pointed out. "Besides, she's given you an end to cuddle."

"It's hardly the most pleasant one when the tail isn't wagging."

"But it's the one you've got. Enjoy it, because it's more than I've gotten for pretty much the entire time they've been home."

"Hey, what's with the attitude?"

"It's not intentional. It was a poor choice of words if anything."

"But you smell like you have a problem though," she pointed out.

"... I just haven't had as much time with them, and I don't want to end it early."

"Alright, I'll stop then," she apologised, followed by the doorbell sounding a few seconds later. "I'll get it."

Daniel watched as Kris and the two dogs all perked up and began to listen out, cocking their heads as they began to pick up on distant voices, but thankfully made no attempt to rush out of the room. Instead, they stayed put, and moments later, footsteps could be heard. He peeked out of the door to see Milla leading a collection of familiar faces towards them.

"Hello, everyone!" Celenamartra announced as she entered the room and dipped her head down to Kris. "Oh my, Kriskurven, you're growing quickly!"

"Aaaa," Kris replied.

"Oh, is that right?" Celenamartra asked.

"Aaaa aaAa," Kris continued.

"Mhm," Celenamartra nodded.

"AaAa aaaA!"

"I see," Celenamartra replied, looking up at Daniel and Milla, who both looked at her hopefully. "He can't speak yet."

"Nan…" Milla sighed.

"You know you don't always have to mess with people, Celena," James told her as he followed her into the room.

"You know how she is, Grandad," Milla replied.

"Yes, I do. As for Kris, he is trying to speak in a sense, but he doesn't know how to speak. All he knows is that words are made from different sounds, so he's trying to mimic other people without knowing what actually goes into speaking," James explained.

"Oh, I see," Milla told him.

"Kris, look at me," Celenamartra told him, opening her mouth she he could see in. "Ah, lah, pah, wah, mah, dah."

"Atamawada?" Kris replied, attempting to mimic her mouth shapes.

"Ah, lah, pah, wah, mah, dah."

"Alamamada?"

"That's closer, good boy. Once more. Ah, lah, pah, wah, mah, dah."

"Alapawamada?"

"There we go!" Celenamartra congratulated him. "This is what you want to try, Milla. Speech doesn't come easily for Dragons, so while we can pick up languages faster than most, producing the right sounds can be difficult. You need to teach him how to make certain sounds, as well as other sounds like 'ck'. I recommend pointing to different parts of your mouth and neck to encourage him to replicate the sounds."

"I will, thank you," Milla replied as she walked over and picked Kris up with her wings and began to nuzzle him.

"So, to what do we owe the honour?" Daniel asked as he noticed Ordos pad in behind the pair.

"We've yet to properly pay our respects as Deities," Ordos explained. "When we visited with everyone else, there were people present that we didn't want to reveal our identities to."

"The day he hatched was a long and busy one," Daniel agreed. "Didn't you make that public though?"

"Our existence as Deities is public knowledge now, but our original mortal identities are not," James explained. "We don't have any plans to make it public either before you ask. More Deities in the family would just draw attention and cause accusations to be made about favouritism and stuff. Most of it was just because of how the whole process works and how it's drawn to strong people and whatnot."

"Is now the time you offer to make us Deities?" Daniel joked.

"No, neither of you are good candidates," James replied as he sat down with Maverick. "You don't have the right mindsets, mainly due to military conditioning. The option of force is too instilled into your minds."

"I don't want it, but what about Meriath? She's been in the military for… I don't even know how many thousands of years," Daniel pointed out.

"Her conditioning was different, and she also trained herself out of a lot of it. If you really did want it, there are paths to become candidates."

"But if we pursued them, we would invalidate ourselves as candidates, correct?"

"If you pursued them with the intention of becoming Deities, yes," James confirmed. "The conditions for becoming a Deity are quite strict so the wrong people don't get way too much power."

"Fair enough. People with far less power than a Deity have done terrible things."

"Back to lighter topics though. Kris is pretty cute, isn't he? And smart too, with quite a unique colour."

"He's the best!" Milla replied with a prideful smile.

"Alapawamada!" Kris exclaimed in reply.

"Can you say muh, uh, muh?" Milla asked.

"Alapawamada!" Kris shouted excitedly.

"No, muh, uh, muh," Milla repeated.

"Amaaama?"

"Almost. Muh, uh, muh."

"Amaaama!"

"He needs to be taught how to make the 'uh' sound still," Celenamartra warned her.

"So what about dah, ah, dah?" Daniel asked.

"Adaaada?" Kris asked.

"Dah, ah, dah," Daniel repeated.

"Daaada?"

"So close! Try 'dad," he told him

"Dah ad? Daad? Dad?"

"You did it!" Daniel exclaimed, lifting Kris up into the air. "Your first word!"

"Dad! Dad!" Kris excitedly repeated.

"And now you're going to be called whenever he needs anything," James laughed. "Trust me, it'll happen."

"Experience?" Daniel asked.

"Yep," James confirmed, looking at Celenamartra. "Isn't that right? If a baby can only call for me, I have to deal with them, but if they can call for you, we both have to."

"I answered when they called for you plenty of times," Celenamartra countered. "They just call for me more than they call for you."

"Uh huh. What you say is plenty might not be plenty to everyone else though, right?"

"Let's not haggle over definitions, especially not now," Celenamartra told him as she gestured to their hosts.

"Ok, Kris, can you say uh?" Daniel asked, rubbing his neck slightly as he asked

"Ah," Kris replied.

"No, uh," he repeated.

"Ahu?"

"So close. Uh."

"... Uh?"

"There we go! Good job, Kris!" Daniel congratulated him. "Now try muh."

"Muh."

"Good job! Now, muh, uh, muh"

"Mumuh."

"Good job! You're almost there! Now try mum."

"Mumuh. Mummm. Mum."

"You did it," Daniel congratulated him as he lifted him up into the air and passed him to Milla. "Say it again."

"Mum," Kris repeated, looking at Milla.

"Yes, that's me," Milla replied as she began to hug Kris tightly with her wings.

"Is that our job here done?" Ordos asked Celenamartra.

"We didn't come here only with the intention of helping Kris to start speaking," she quietly replied before clearing her throat and speaking up a bit. "Milla, Daniel, how would you feel about having a Deity officiate your wedding?"

"Well, I guess it'd be nice," he replied as he looked at Milla to find her too distracted with Kris. "I've certainly got nothing against it, so I guess it's her decision when she's no longer busy."

"We'll figure something out later then," Celenamartra assured him. "We've still got a few weeks after all.

"I guess I'm making some new friends now then," Ordos commented as both Maverick and Ripley finally began to investigate him.

"They're very friendly and quite curious," Daniel assured him.

"I know, but I'm hoping to avoid… that," he sighed as both Maverick and Ripley invited him to play with their toys, before dropping down on his two front legs. "Alright, fine, let's do this."

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

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