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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/ExcursorLXVI on 2024-10-31 15:48:58+00:00.

When we discovered Earth, we demanded surrender. We did not receive any signs they were even considering it until after a week-long struggle for orbital supremacy that was what the humans would call a "curb stomp." We lost only one ship to their desperation.

After this, they asked for terms.

The exact terms are lost to history, but if they were anything like the usual protocol it probably involved taking every fifth child as hostage, executing everyone who had fought us, and more such things.

The human negotiators stated they could never persuade their leaders to accept that.

Our representative cited a phrase, "X'an vaios mar telens." The language it is part of has been lost; all we know is that this phrase means "the defeated do not get to bargain."

They didn't surrender, so, of course, we slaughtered them.

Until the call arrived. Our home system was under attack by a rival empire. We had to pull back and leave our business unfinished.

That proved to be problematic for us.

Recall that we lost exactly one ship. It crashed on Earth, and stayed there.

Upon returning home, we were forced to fight for years against our ruthless attackers. After a myriad battles we finally drove them out. But our fleet was down to single digits. Most of our armies were dead. The system's moons were shattered, and our people were starving.

We had long forgotten our business on Earth.

But they hadn't.

A fleet of unfamiliar ships appeared.

It seems that one downed ship had enough technology on it for them to reverse engineer. With that they managed to put together a fleet in the time we were fighting and dying.

In any other situation, we could've crushed that fleet. But I don't need to repeat our dire condition in the battle's aftermath.

So we hailed them, "We will consider surrender. What are your terms?"

The reply: "We take all of your weaponized ships and as much as we want from your ground weaponry. We will demolish whatever we can't use."

"What? We will be defenseless! There are enemies who will tear us limb from limb! Let us keep something!"

"Vae victis."

Just to rub it in our faces, they also cited some ancient language--one of theirs. Unlike the language our representative used, we know what this one is--Latin. And this phrase means "Woe to the conquered."

Get familiar with it. It gets repeated a lot.

After the humans took over, the occupation was harsh. They weren't really executing people--things hadn't escalated that badly quite yet--but they certainly weren't going out of their way to be benevolent.

Eventually, though, a third party did arrive. Our old enemies, against whom we fought a myriad battles. The humans did not stop them at all as they ravaged our homeworld. Not as they massacred us. The humans watched, content with some smug feeling we had it coming.

Maybe we did, but the survivors certainly didn't feel that way. Naturally we were revolting within a week. We had no ships, no real weapons after all we had been through. But we were doing everything we could against them.

Our revolt did nothing to humanity's dominion over the region, but other events did.

Apparently our old enemies were done with us. Because they moved on to Earth, and then humanity got to join us in the dust of those utterly ruined by that cursed empire.

We were ahead in the business of improvising together an excuse of a military from ruins, and so our conquest of Earth began shortly after.

"Vae victis!" was our shout as we began being tyrants, seeking vengeance for all that had happened to us.

Take a guess what happened next. A revolt.

For the next hundred years, our little corner of the galaxy was filled with the cry of "Vae victis!" "Vae victis!" "Vae victis!" War unending, as the balance of power swings continuously back and forth.

Both of us became something unrecognizable to ourselves. Humanity's republics degraded into petty tyrannies and dictatorships. Our fine empire was but an excuse of a planet that only had the strength to fight for revenge but not to have it.

Eventually, the end of all this came when the balance of power was in favor of humanity. Their kingdom was something the republic that first reached the stars would despise--executing dissidents and imposing ideology.

But there was something of that original humanity left in their king.

We did not hear "Vae victis" as they marched in. There were no shootings, reprisals, or massacres as had become the norm.

His decree was that humanity was to help us rebuild.

It wasn't perfect--there were always individuals on both sides who still wanted revenge--but it was far better than the previous norm.

Within fifty years of peace the damage of a hundred years of war was--while still present--no longer reigning over all. The unending struggle for vengeance was at last ended. For once, a generation grew up that remembered humanity not as a conquering scourge or an enslaved subject, but as some sort of uneasy ally.

It is to King Airo that we owe our prosperous alliance, of which we now commemorate the three hundredth anniversary of its official declaration. Since then, we have done much together. We have risen to take a leading role in this corner of the galaxy and beyond. We have built the grandest of testaments to the power of sapience. We have defended ourself against the most dire threats, and finally put down the Ashkaron Empire that destroyed us both so long ago.

All from one king's refusal of "Vae victis."