"Chief technician Ronny Human. Why is it vital that we reroute to fill spare tanks from this gas cloud? We are not in need of it as fuel nor solvents?"

"Captain Zzhfnntx Rrzhfn. Trust me on this. It's the purest ethanol you can find next to the Absolut Space Port".

Part - 1 | Part - 3

Entry Eleven

Disaster! One of the probes that the humans use to drag the ores they extract from their asteroid belts slammed into our ship today! Our forcefields held, but the drone was wrecked beyond repair, and the asteroid deflected towards Earth! It now moves only a few times faster than the speed of sound, leisurely by space travel standards, but it is colossal. It will depopulate the part of the planet it hits, surely. I am told that the probes and ore-haulers use a computer guidance system to slip into Earth orbital slots with their payloads, where the ores are removed by the pace and need that the human construction schedule dictates. If we had not been in the path of these probes, this would have never happened! The humans provided us with a copy of the ore haulers’ schedules to avoid just such a calamity! How did this happen?! What will happen to Earth?!

Entry Twelve

We have come to a conclusion. The crew and diplomatic staff have decided that we will divert the asteroid into the Earth’s sun, using our own ship to provide the stopping mechanism. Our fields are not recharged; the impact will kill us.

We are not committing lightly, fully half the crew said that we should abandon the humans to their fate and continue on negotiating, some of the rest said that we should do all that we can without destroying ourselves, but I and the Ambassador disagree. We did this. Our misgivings about their technological level aside, the humans should not be driven to near-extinction by their own first contact

Bizarrely enough, all is well. The asteroid nearly hit the planet when the humans took matters into their own hands. We had maneuvered our ship into the path of the asteroid, ready to deflect the massive thing with our own ship, if need be. We did this. This was our fault. Except, the human diplomats were frantic, demanding that we move the ship at once. We were baffled. We were offering to solve the problem we had caused, so why were the humans demanding that we did not? They beseeched us to move, to let the asteroid move along its own path, directly towards the planet, saying that we did not deserve to suffer, to bear the brunt of this calamity.

Finally, we gave in, and moved out of the course of the asteroid. We were watching what we thought would be the end of the Earth below…but we were wrong. A blast appeared near the asteroid, and we realized what was happening: the humans had detonated a nuclear device in the asteroid’s path to divert it. Not destroy it, no, but divert it. A few dozen of their own drone craft slammed into the side of the asteroid which had just been hit by the bomb, propelling it into near-Earth orbit.

The human ambassador actually took me aside and explained that they had a contingency set aside for just such a catastrophe, dating back to when they had first created the mining drone and ore hauler network. He told me that the technology they had first employed to create the interplanetary ore haulers had originally been far more primitive, and unable to precisely calculate the appropriate course and speed to get the asteroids safely back to Earth.

The Asteroid Diversion weapons and drones had been created to reduce any risk. In total shock, I asked why they had done this, and almost as importantly, why they had been willing to risk such a mining venture if they knew such a potential problem existed. “Necessity is the mother of invention,” he replied.

Entry Thirteen

Fifty days have passed since the asteroid incident, and the human’s reaction has been alarming. Civilian populations – and not a few military – across the system are clamoring for attention, some demanding that the human diplomats apologize for what “they” have done – as if the humans caused this! – others demanding that we suffer for this transgression, others yet launching into wild speculation. Above it all, the human ambassador has changed the tack of these negotiations completely. Now, all he seems to ask about is the justice systems of the galaxy, where before he has inquired about everything from laws restricting invasive plant species in agriculture to FTL drives to the origins of our linguistic colloquialisms.

When asked what his official stance about the asteroid incident will be, by other members of his own species who are not part of his delegation, he replies cryptically. “Patience is a virtue.” “Never close doors you can not open.” “Invite no conflict where none exists.” “Yellow is most flavorful.” I have no idea what the last one means. Perhaps our translators are not as capable of translating euphemisms as we thought.

Regarding the possession of the nuclear devices they employed to divert the asteroid, he has hastened – quite uninvited – to assure us that it has been over a century and half since any nuclear device was used in war. This assuages my fears somewhat, especially since we discreetly scanned the complex on the planet’s surface that launched the “nuke” and found that even the most powerful of these devices is little more than six times the effective power of the ones they employed: strong enough to damage our fields, surely, but nowhere near enough to destroy us outright. But I should not be thinking of these potential new friends as potential new enemies, as he himself says.

Entry Fourteen

Again, I am amazed by the humans’ ability to ignore trouble. It is now two hundred fifty days after first contact, and the human media has actually greatly reduced their mention of us, and the asteroid incident. They are now beginning to return to what I am told (with vast disgust, interestingly) by the human ambassador is the norm for their media: music, banal daily news, and what I think may be some form of medical treatment, aimed at those who suffer reproductive isolation.

The fact that, in less than a year, the human species has been exposed to alien life and nearly been wiped out by the carelessness of said life seems to have been absorbed by the population with a genuinely amazing degree of blasé acceptance. I understand we will be going on a tour of Earth itself, tomorrow, though in full body-suits, naturally. We will have to be. Their atmosphere is breathable, of course, but their sun is so much more radioactive than ours in the spectra of ultraviolet and radio that to not wear suits would be downright stupid.

Entry Fifteen

What in the world are these humans doing without their own FTL drives?! I returned from a ten-day tour of their homeworld today, and I can say with certainty that I have never been more unnerved. These humans possess, I knew, massive space stations, tightly packed with their own, and their non-Earth colonies were barely at the level where abundant food could be harvested. I had made, naturally, the same assumption that the Ambassador did when we saw these places: that these were criminals being made to suffer, or volunteers who chose to live in these awful conditions because they had literally no choice, or the infirm and weak, who could be sheltered in a completely artificial environment because their homeworld was too harsh for them in some way.

What I discovered is that Earth is, if anything, nearly as badly overpopulated in its capitals and trade hubs as it is in their colonies and space stations! I saw towers of apartments, some with over two thousand people living in them, stacked so close together they looked like rows of molecules in a crystal, and the people there seemed as if this was the norm! The leaders and visionaries and great speakers of humanity spoke and feted and recited prepared lines, but I heard none of it.

These people are not a people in true squalor, not really, certainly not by their own standards, but I hear tell of truly shocking slums in the cities of the poorer continents. It seems a disparity of wealth and power exists here, and I am unnerved deeply. A population this large achieving the great works of their peoples, like the ore haulers and orbital platforms, is not impossible…but only a tiny fraction of their people are wealthy enough to have done it. A small percentage… without FTL.

Part - 1 | Part - 3

Thanks to u/Prohibitorum for original transcription. Original Image

Journal of an Alien Diplomat

Entry One

The delegation will meet for the first time today. I'm keeping this record as ordered. though I don't see the point. The humans aren't exactly reclusive, but the hoops they made themselves jump through before they even returned our first contact message were absurd. I heard second-hand that they nearly went into a civil war over the possibility of our message being bait for some sort of trap. Are they just naturally paranoid, or have they run into some other species of non-humans that gave them trouble? I rather suspect the former, their military, for just having one star system, is pretty numerous.

Entry Two

The humans sent up some civilian diplomat instead of a military leader. I was surprised: they seem to value martial prowess fairly highly, so why do they have a civilian leader? Apparently, this guy was selected after a brief voting period. which wasn't made open to the general population, but was only open to national leaders. That's troubling: national leaders in a spacefaring species? That can only mean delays in the future.

Entry Three

A few more diplomats came up today. with huge stacks of portable computers. Our translators already added the one language they have used so far to the universal system, so we didn't have any trouble deciphering the data from the computers. Apparently they want to know as much as possible about us, and in exchange, they provided a bunch of information about themselves, their history, some more language dialects we didn't have covered yet, and some of their own starmaps. I was stunned. Why are they being so trusting? They were on the verge of a civil war when we contacted them.

No. it was because we contacted them.

Entry Four

I know it's been several weeks since I last updated this thing, but the human's data is taking up all of my time. Apparently they have been in a state of what we would consider constant civil war since their people evolved far enough to grasp fire. Over the dumbest things, too, from religion to territory. Nearly a fifth of all of their most important technology, including their relativistic drive technology, was derived from something designed to kill other humans. No wonder they're being so open, our people wouldn't engage in an internal war on the scale these humans have, ever. They've killed more of themselves in the last thousand years than my people have ever died. Total.

Entry Five

The ninth week of the contact meeting is ending now. The reactions from the humans on their worlds have been more interesting than all the data they gave us, by now: they're starting to get back to routine. They have their own planet, another planet, and about five moons in their system colonized to some degree, and each has a distinct culture and way of life. The reaction on each when we made contact was the same: they flipped out, and their peoples were seized by everything ranging from panic to joy. But now? Their reactions have stabilized to the extent that I don't think we're going to get a reaction out of them unless we create some further provocation. The most-read news articles on their electronic communication networks are more about domestic problems and entertainment and their economies than they are about us. Are humans just more comfortable in routines, or are they frustrated with our lack of diplomatic progress? I'm confused. The humans I've met seem unconcerned, but I know the Ambassador from our people is getting worried.

Entry Six

I'm relieved. The human ambassador met me personally, today, informally, here on the ship. He said that he could tell that I was getting worried about the negotiations, and he wanted to address me personally. I asked how he could tell I was worried when he had only met our species for the first time less than one hundred Solar cycles ago, and he replied that it was all part of being a diplomat. I stated outright that I was confused by the seeming lack of disruption on the part of the people below. He said that there were plenty of people who were disrupted, but that most of the humans in the system had already decided to wait and see what the outcome of the negotiations were before doing anything. ‘After all,” he said, “even if my species becomes an active member of the galactic community, most humans will stay right here, living their lives. We'll be affected by galactic politics, new technology, and colonization, even assuming that we could find new Earth-type worlds out there, but most will want to stay right where they are.” I asked him how he could say that when so many of his people had colonized the rest of the system, and he laughed. I think. “It's completely different when you can see Earth out your window."

Entry Seven

Things have picked up so much. We got our translators working to the effect that nuance of speech, not just content, can be translated appropriately. The human ambassador's speech and conversation were suddenly so much clearer. To his credit, he told us that he had been refraining from common speech, slang, and aphorism as much as possible. “I wouldn't want to use a saying or phrase that had a clear meaning to another human, but made no sense — or worse. insulted — one of your people. Now. I can speak freely.” I have to wonder if this faster-paced dialogue will negatively affect the negotiations. The Ambassador broached the toughest topic today: Faster Than Light travel.

Entry Eight

Generally, species are content to create FTL on their own, before they even contact us, or vice-versa. Humans are the exception. They colonized their entire star system, with seven inhabited bodies and over a thousand mined, explored, probed, or mapped bodies with no habitation in their system. So much of their population lives in their orbital platforms that their own homeworld barely even supports two thirds of their species. They did this without FTL. Clearly, the fact that they have reacted peacefully to our presence rather than precipitously fighting or ignoring us indicates that they are mature enough to handle Faster Than Light travel...but I am privately concerned. One of the human diplomats has already begun copying our speech and movement patterns. I found myself opening up to him without even realizing it until afterwards. He must be doing it on purpose, to set us at ease. After one hundred twenty of their days, they're copying the behavior of their first alien contact. This is one of their finest diplomatic minds, of course, but still. If they can do it with behavior, can they do it with technology? I suspect they will ask for a working FTL drive to study in their next meeting.

Entry Nine

I am vindicated, it seems. I spoke my concerns to the Ambassador today, and he agreed that there would be no gifting of FTL technology to the humans, that they would have to earn it on their own. The humans would react poorly, I guessed, but tactfully, as at least a few of them seem to genuinely care what we think. I was right, naturally. The human ambassador asked that their people be given a working FTL drive to reverse-engineer, in exchange for an unspecified piece of technology of theirs. Their technology, the Ambassador quickly replied, was inferior to ours in every way save communications, and we had no need for their communications technology. Communicating faster than light is something we can do already: communicating instantaneously anywhere in their system, as they do, is a wondrous piece of technology, but not necessary for our people. The human ambassador reacted with shock and surprise immediately, and then quickly became suspicious. I think he may have gleaned that we have discussed this amongst ourselves. How? I can not guess. We spoke of other things, and the ambassador of the humans seemed mollified by the discussions that followed. Will he broach it again? Probably.

Entry Ten

The humans surprise us. It is exactly half of one year after first contact, and life, as I before noted, continues. They are fully one third finished with another of their orbital habitation platforms, and we were given a tour of the construction site. Huge robotic construction devices smelt down chunks of ore from the many, many asteroid and lunar mining platforms the humans have throughout their system, ferried to them by relativistic drive-powered ore haulers. The slag is then fed into their forges and reduced to elemental purity, and the refined ore is then crafted, still in space, into modules, which are then attached to the frame of the space installation. The elemental slag is mostly hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and silicon, in this system. They use these things to make air and computers, apparently, which are then used in the construction of their platforms. I am astounded. They have created the most efficient industrial complex we have ever seen...by necessity. They lack FTL, so in the absence of easily-reachable resource deposits that they can mine on their colonies, they simply process asteroids into something useful. Another reason to deprive them of FTL? If they can prosper in such paucity. how will they react to plenty?

Part 2

Thanks to u/Prohibitorum for original transcription. Original Image

cross-posted from: https://sh.itjust.works/post/493470

First (Part 1) | Prev (Part 2)

I can't imagine the debate that went on amongst your people but finally a small shuttle emerged from the fleet and headed towards the Imperator's palace. The war council, in their shame, refused to meet with your delegates. Instead they nominated one of their members and sent me along as an "Honor Guard". That was when I saw you, my first human. You were standing at the end of your shuttles ramp next to another delegate. you with your red folder and he with his green folder.

Through the few human survivors we had managed to take, we managed to decipher your language and program a translator. Through that the lone council member announced that he was here to discuss the terms of our surrender. You and your co-delegate traded a brief look. I didn't know what it was at the time but I have come to learn it was relief. Your co-delegate stepped forward and offered your list of terms of our surrender.

Your terms were quite reasonable really, there were demands that we turn over copies of all military and civilian technology as well as working prototypes so that you could adapt them. We also had to make territorial concessions as well as accept an occupying force in order to ensure that we did not rebuild in an attempt to fight again.

When all the songs were sung and our honor pledges were finished you opened a communicator and said one word, "sunrise", and you and your partner turned to leave. A voice in the transmitter in my ear told me that your fleet was beginning to approach. maybe it was because I was young and impulsive or perhaps I knew that my dishonor was so complete that I couldn't get any worse, but either way I stepped out of line and called out to you. "Wait, if your co-delegate had our terms for surrender, what was in your folder?" Another look crossed his face, one that I would learn to be a 'wry smile'. "This folder here?" you asked, "This folder holds the terms of surrender." I told you that I didn't understand and your smile faltered. You looked me right in the eyes and said, "These are the terms we were going to offer for our surrender to you."

When your fleet arrived in orbit I finally understood. The ships were in bad shape, they were falling apart and looked like the first fleet that had attacked us. They were hospital ships and cargo haulers, refitted transports that looked as if they were about to fall apart. The massive 'ship' we saw was actually your first colony ship back before you had even discovered the phase drive and faster than light travel. You had grafted phase drives to it and had to tow it into position using decrepit ore haulers. Our "occupiers" were disheveled civilians that looked half starved. Over the next many rotations I learned the truth.

You had gambled everything on this plan. Every last resource had been poured into the building of the grand fleets that you had used to attack us. Fields​ that you used to grow food were tilled over so you could build weapons factories. You had stripped half a dozen colonies and hundreds of asteroids and moons in order to assemble the vast fleets for your attack. You literally had nothing left to fight us. The fleet in orbit was there either to occupy us in the event of victory or to be used as an offering of slaves in the event of your defeat. You were so stretched thin of resources we had to supply you with fuel just so the bulk of your fleet could return home!

You knew that attacking us directly might not have been a sure victory so you had to make us believe that we couldn't face the endless onslaught of your fleets. Your final gamble had paid off. With peace secured, we were both able to rebuild your broken empire. now we are the strongest of allies. We fight side by side against those that would dare stand to oppose us. I was only able to visit you now due to the fact that my fleet is running a joint training exercise with one of yours.

That is why I am here now and there is something I must ask you. I didn't realize at the time because there was so much to do, and I haven't been able to see you in the four cycles since the peace treaty was ratified. But now that I have you here I must know. The last fleet we encountered during the final battle was 11-12. You must tell me as I have never been able to figure it out. What was the 12th fleet? What was 12 of 12?

With that the frail old man in the hospital bed looked over to the Kress Fleet Commander standing before him. A wry smile stretched across his weathered and pale face. "Perhaps", he whispered, "that is best left to the imagination".

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Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

cross-posted from: https://sh.itjust.works/post/493405

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Two rotations later you attacked again. This time the fleet was larger and the ships were better equipped. The fleet didn't hesitate to open fire and were much more prepared for our defenses. The battle still didn't last very long and our losses were minimal. Once again our Learners were sent out. The few ships that were left mostly intact had a wide range of names, but every one of them had the designation 2-12 on their bow.

Still the council could not understand the meaning of the designation. Had we figured it out sooner I really doubt it would have made a difference in the end. Another two cycles later, almost to the minute, another fleet attacked. This one actually had ships we were familiar with. They were older battlecruisers like the "Formidable", the "Valiant", the "Daring". This fleet was about half the size of the fleets you had sent into battle back at the beginning of the war, but they had been outfitted with more advanced weapons and shields.

Our defense fleet was small since we had thought that you didn't know where our home world was and that you were on the verge of losing the war. The battle was fierce but as was common, we gained the upper hand. When it was clear that your fleet was going to lose the surviving ships did something we had never seen before.

Rather than fleeing or fighting to the death. The last ships intentionally rammed the nearest Kressian ship. When the battle was over your entire fleet, some 70 ships were gone. We had lost three warships and over a dozen were critically damaged. It was one of the costliest battles we had ever fought.

As our repair crews were sent out to assess the damage, our Learners noted on the record that every ship in the fleet that we could get a clear view on had the designation 3-12 on their bow. Finally the council realized what that meant. They thought that surely the Humans didn't have the ability to field nine more fleets like the one they had just sent, but at their suggestion the Imperator recalled a reserve fleet and sent out several attack groups to search our home sector for more humans. Like clockwork you would send a fleet to attack us every two cycles.

Each fleet was larger and stronger than the last and the names became more hostile to match the growing ferocity of your attacks. We witnessed the destruction of ships like the "Vengeance" and the "Retaliation" and as each fleet was down to its last ships, they would ram into our or intentionally detonate their phase drives in order to cause as much damage as possible.

Our losses we mounting and fear had begun to build not only among the rank and file, but also within the war council itself. By the time the 8-12 fleet had attacked we were recalling every active fleet within range to bolster our defenses. When fleet 9-12 attacked we were on the verge of panic. This fleet was massive, easily numbering 1000 ships. We saw ships that we had never encountered before. These were not the crude and bulky vessels we were accustomed to...

These ships were sleek and fast. Their shields were powerful and we were quite dismayed to see that they had the same pulse cannons that our own cruisers and battleships used. By then our entire fleet was clustered around our home world so we still won the battle, but not before several of your ships broke through our lines and began to bombard our planet. The damage was relatively minor but it set off a panic among the populace.

The people knew that we were fighting off attack after attack, but the war council had always told them that we were suffering no losses while they were being utterly destroyed. Now everyone knew that the humans were not giving up on the war but were willing to sacrifice much to destroy us. At that point the council had, quietly, begun to discuss other options.

As a race steeped in traditions and honor, it was almost incomprehensible to even consider surrendering to the humans, but the loss of civilian life and the fact that each fleet we faced was becoming more and more powerful was giving us cause to talk. We knew that there were at least three more fleets ready to attack us and if they continued to grow in size and strength we might not be able to win. And we knew that losing would mean the death of countless Kressians. After all the death and destruction we had visited upon your people, we knew that our fate would be sealed if we could not end the war on terms.

Right on time, two rotations later, fleet 10-12 jumped into our system. There were only four ships, but they were big. No, big doesn't quite describe them. They were massive, bigger than massive. The best measurement we could get was over five krents or nearly three of your kilometers long, almost four times the size of our largest war cruiser.

Every open space of these ships was studded with large pulse cannons and missile tubes. They came screaming right into the heart of our fleet. For once we knew how you must have felt. We sent hundreds of ships out to fight four of yours and we were getting slaughtered. But this time it was our numbers that won out.

The sacrifices of so many of our ships and commanders allowed us to destroy the War, Famine, Pestilence and Death (as always we didn't understand the significance of the names at the time). When it was over we had less than 1000 ships remaining. The inner orbit of our planet was choked with wrecked hulls and frozen bodies. Pieces of ships were raining down into our atmosphere where they would catch fire and slam into the ground.

The council had no choice. They told the Imperator that if we didn't surrender to the humans when the next fleet arrived then it was likely that the last vestiges of our fleet would be destroyed and that our home world would be sterilized of all life. Reluctantly he agreed. Two rotations later fleet 11-12 jumped into our system.

We couldn't get a clear reading on them as they were outside our normal scanning range and our long range scanner was still damaged. It was impossible to get a clear count but we estimated that there were almost 10,000 ships. One of them was even bigger than the last four.

It must have been at least six kilometers long and had what looked to be cannon that were over 1/4 kilometer in size. The fleet stayed just out of visual range but its presence was all we needed. Almost immediately I was ordered to send a message to your fleet. We requested that delegates be sent to discuss terms of surrender.

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Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

cross-posted from: https://sh.itjust.works/post/493377

"I remember when the humans defeated the Kress Imperium; I'll remember it until I breathe my last. Do you remember it my old friend?" There was no answer from the bed next to me. "I'm sure you do, you were there after all. The war had started when I was only one cycle old. I remember when our race first discovered yours. We had stumbled on a colony during a standard mapping expedition. rather than try to make contact at that time our Grand Imperator sent a full honor fleet and our Prime Delegate.

To this day no one truly knows what went wrong or who fired first. What we do know for sure was that a lucky, or rather unlucky, shot had hit the Prime Delegate's flagship killing him and the Fleet Commander instantly. It didn't help that the Prime Delegate was also the Imperator's first born. Shortly after that the entire colony's defensive fleet was in ruins. In a fit of rage the fleet Sub-Commander had the entire colony burned to ashes and just like that, we were at war."

How you humans managed to resist us so long was almost as maddening as how you won the war. Your ships were slow, their shield were weak and their weapons were underpowered. The only​ thing you had going for you was your cunning and your ability to reproduce.

No matter how many colonies we burned, no matter how many ships we destroyed there seemed to be an endless amount of reinforcements for you to send in their place. Your capacity to build fleets was like nothing we had seen before. You also fought every battle with a stubborn determination that has never been matched by over 100 races we have encountered in this galaxy. You would send 15 of your ships to destroy one of ours and when that didn't work, you would send 50.

But in the end even that was not enough. After nearly a cycle of war we finally saw a change. You were less likely to engage us in direct battles, preferring raids and hit and run tactics. When you did choose to fight us your fleets were smaller and seemed to be less willing to commit to a full on attack. The war council had thought that you had finally reached the point where you were no longer capable of resisting. How wrong they were.

I was a Signals sub-officer, just out of primary training and barely two cycles or roughly 40 of your Earth years old. I was working in the War Council's tactical center. They were discussing their next steps in the war and trying in vain to determine where your homeworld might be. Suddenly our long range sensors picked up a group of ships jumping into real space just outside our defensive grid.

We knew they were human but didn't recognize the ship configuration. There were only 12 of them and as they slowly made their way forward we didn't even think to open fire. The ships were small and looked as if they had been cobbled together out of debris and wreckage. It almost seemed as if they were lost and wanted to surrender to us until they opened fire.

Their weapons were pathetically weak, but they took us by surprise. Before our defensive weapons could return fire they had done heavy damage to our main long range sensors. Of course they didn't get off a second shot. All but one of the ships were instantly vaporized. The last one tried to flee but it's engines overheated and melted the aft half of the ship. Instantly the council ordered our Learners to get to work.

That was the one thing we picked up from you during the war. The limited number of victories you had, had given you the chance to study us and our technology. You took our weapons and attempted to reverse engineer them. The result was something between your weapons and ours, but it was certainly more effective. You also studied how we fought and adapted to us as much as you could.

Our ways have always been rigid, you once said that we lacked imagination. But now we tried to use your own methods against you. We studied the wreckage of your "fleet" but couldn't find much use. The ships were actually cobbled together out of mismatching parts and there were no survivors to interrogate. At the end of our Learner's report, just an addendum really, was that the sole surviving ship had two designations.

Your ship names were rather much more colorful than ours, those that were intact enough for us to study at least. The one surviving ship was named the "Folly" but right under it, stenciled on the buckled hull of the bow was 1-12. We thought that it was simply a numerical designation of that ship in the group and ignored it.

Next (Part 2)

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Original Source.

Transcribed by u/IUpvoteUsernames in Reddit

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/149398

!MESSAGE BEGINS

We made a mistake. That is the simple, undeniable truth of the matter, however painful it might be. The flaw was not in our Observatories, for those machines were as perfect as we could make, and they showed us only the unfiltered light of truth. The flaw was not in the Predictor, for it is a device of pure, infallible logic, turning raw data into meaningful information without the taint of emotion or bias. No, the flaw was within us, the Orchestrators of this disaster, the sentients who thought themselves beyond such failings. We are responsible.

It began a short while ago. as these things are measured. less than 66 Deeli ago. though I suspect our systems of measure will mean very little by the time anyone receives this transmission. We detected faint radio signals from a blossoming intelligence 2.14 Deelis outward from the Galactic Core, as photons travel. At first crude and unstructured. these leaking broadcasts quickly grew in complexity and strength, as did the messages they carried. Through our Observatories we watched a world of strife and violence. populated by a barbaric race of short-lived. fast breeding vermin. They were brutal and uncultured things which stabbed and shot and burned each other with no regard for life or purpose. Even their concepts of Art spoke of conflict and pain. They divided themselves according to some bizarre cultural patterns and set their every industry to cause of death.

They terrified us, but we were older and wiser and so very far away, so we did not fret. Then we watched them split the atom and breach the heavens within the breadth of one of their single, short generations, and we began to worry. When they began actively transmitting messages and greetings into space, we felt fear and horror. Their transmissions promised peace and camaraderie to any who were listening, but we had watched them for tool long to buy into such transparent deceptions. They knew we were out here, and they were coming for us.

The Orchestrators consulted the Predictor, and the output was dire. They would multiply and grow and flood out of their home system like some uncountable tide of Devourer worms, consuming all that lay in their path. It might take 6.8 Deelis, but they would destroy us if left unchecked. With aching carapaces we decided to act. and sealed our fate.

The Gift of Mercy was 84 strides long with a mouth 2/4 that in diameter, filled with many 44 weights of machinery, fuel, and ballast. It would push itself up to 2/8th of light speed with its onboard fuel, and then begin to consume interstellar Primary Element 2/2 to feed its unlimited acceleration. It would be traveling at nearly light speed when it hit. They would never see it coming. Its launch was a day of mourning, celebration, and reflection. The horror of the act we had committed weighted heavily upon us all; the necessity of our crime did little to comfort us.

The Gift had barely cleared the outer cometary halo when the mistake was realized. but it was too late. The Gift could not be caught. could not be recalled or diverted from its path. The architects and work crews, horrified at the awful power of the thing upon which they labored. had quietly self-terminated in droves. walking unshielded into radiation zones. neglecting proper null pressure safety or simple ceasing their nutrient consumption until their metabolic functions stopped. The appalling cost in lives had forced the Ochestrators to streamline the Gift's design and construction. There had been no time for the design or implementation of anything beyond the simple. massive engines and the stabilizing systems. We could only watch in shame and horror as the light of genocide faded into infrared against the distant void.

They grew, and they changed, in a handful of lifetimes htey abolished war, abandoned their violent tendencies and turned themselves to the grand purposes of life and Art. We watched them remake first themselves, and then their world. Their frail, soft bodies gave way to gleaming metals and plastics, they unified their people through an omnipresent communications grid and produced Art of such power and emotion, the likes of which the Galaxy has never seen before. Or again, because of us.

They converted their home world into a paradise (by their standards) and many 106s of them poured out into the surrounding system with a rapidity and vigor that we could only envy. With bodies built to survive every environment from the day lit surface of their innerrnost world. to the atmosphere of their largest gas giant and the cold void in-between. they set out to sculpt their system into something beautiful. At first we thought them simple miners. stripping the rocky planets and moons for vital resources. but then we began to see the purpose to their constructions. the artworks carved into every surface. and traced across the system in glittering lights and dancing fusion trails. And still. our terrible Gift approached.

They had less than 22 Deeli to see it, following so closely on the tail of its own light. In that time, oh so brief even by their fleeting lives, more than 1010 sentients prepared for death. Lovers exchanged last words, separated by worlds and the tyranny of light speed. Their planet side engineers worked frantically to build sufficient transmission infrastructure to upload the countless masses with the necessary neural modifications, while those above dumped lifetimes of music and literature from their databanks to make room for passengers. Those lacking the required hardware or the time to acquire itconsigned themselves to death, lashed out in fear and pain, or simply went about their lives as best they could under the circumstances.

The Gift arrived suddenly. the light of its impact visible in our skies. shining bright and cruel even to the unaugmented ocular receptor. We watched and we wept for our victims, dead so many Deelis before the light of their doom had even reached us. Many 64s of those who had been directly or even tangentially involved in the creation of the Gift sealed their spiracles with paste as a final penance for the small roles they had played in this atrocity. The light dimmed. the dust cleared, and our Observatories refocused upon the place where their shining blue world had once hung in the void, and found only dust and the pale gleam of an orphaned moon, wrapped in a thin, burning wisp of atmosphere that had once belonged to its parent.

Radiation and relativistic shrapnel had wiped out much of the inner system. and continent sized chunks of molten rock carried screaming ghosts outward at interstellar escape velocities, damned to wander the great void for an eternity. The damage was apocalyptic. but not complete. from the shadows of the outer worlds. tiny points of light emerged, thousands of fusion trails of single ships and world ships and everything in between. many 106s of survivors in flesh and steel and memory banks, ready to rebuild. For a few moments we felt relief, even joy, and we were filled with the hope that their culture and Art would survive the terrible blow we had dealt them. Then came the message. tightly focused at our star. transmitted simultaneously by hundreds of their ships.

"We know you are out there, and we are coming for you."

!MESSAGE ENDS

---

Thank you for reading the story, this story is more than six years old. I have included links to the original sources and where I came upon this story.

Original Source

Reddit Post

I can’t sleep at night.

It began after the Earthlings appeared on the Galactic stage. I was one of the many individuals who began to research them, some as a job, others out of curiosity.

While the human beings were certainly unique in physiology, ability, and culture, so was every other species. Nothing about them at first glance made them stand out from the galactic crowd. In fact, in a general sense the species of the galaxy were all very similar. After all, we all had to conquer our home planets and develop the ability for space travel on our own.

I suppose if anything did, it wasn’t any one attribute but the combinations. They not only had a wide variety of coloration, they also had a wide variety of size and body type. In fact, if anything that was what made Earthlings stand out. They had variety.

Not only physically, but culturally. It wasn’t completely unheard of for a species to have more than one language, but these were almost always glorified dialects and/or remnants of pre-artificial language (if that species used one). The humans had 24 “families” of spoken language. Granted, they did have a single lingua franca but still...!

All these differences and I have listed only two of many, lead straight into what may be the most interesting thing about humans. Their propensity for violent conflict. ...Let me rephrase that. It’s not that there weren’t other violent species out there. In fact, many if not most of the space-faring races were apex predators on their home planets. It’s that humans had a habit of infighting. Nobody could believe how often and how ruthlessly humans would fight with themselves.

When one of my contemporaries asked them directly, they responded with some human philosopher. Most of it basically boiled down to the concept of “the other”. It was almost insulting. As if we had no idea what war was! As if one species had never set out to destroy another of incompatibility! Maybe I misspoke earlier. It isn’t even as if no other species has gone to war with its own race. It was the major reason why maintaining close relationships with colonies was so important to many species. If colonies became too separate and independent for a couple of generations, conflicts could arise and had in the past. Our problem wasn’t that they went to war with other members of their own species. It was how quickly they were able to view their own species as “the other”.

Maybe that was the defining trait of humans? Their ability to quickly label anyone as “the other”? As a non-person? Some of their philosophers certainly thought so. Many of my contemporaries stopped their search here. I began to dive back into the history of Earth. I wanted to know how such an ability had come about. My search revealed many disturbing things. Atrocities of such a varied and incomprehensible nature. Attempted genocide, torture, slavery. No one did these things to their own species.

Soon I was the only one left. All of my fellow researchers, public and private, had long since gone public with their findings. Humanity was painted in an ill light. Their defining trait was to be the ability to treat another being as equals one day and as an inanimate obstacle the next.

I realized that my fellow scholars had forgotten something. The first thing that had shocked us. The diversity of humankind. As I delved back into their history, I saw more evidence of how those differences were even more pronounced than we thought. It was no wonder they were able to consider members of their own species as non-persons!

But how did such an arrangement come to exist? Why hadn’t any one culture or civilization already stamped out their rivals? ...And why did no other species have this diversity? I eventually came upon pre-history. I read about how early man had driven his rival and sister species to extinction. My first thoughts were that the others were right.

Then it occurred to me. No other species had closely related species either. No other species was as diverse in form and culture. ...As the realization set in I grew terrified. I began this research commenting on how similar the species of the galaxy were. ...Humans were similar to us as well. No other species had the diversity in value systems and beliefs the humans did.

What sets the humans apart IS NOT their capacity to turn friends and loved ones into “the Other”. It is their capacity to turn “the Other” into friends and loved ones.

What is truly surprising is not that the humans fight over their differences. It’s that they have differences to fight over.

The species of the galaxy are all very similar. With one exception, they have all brutally stamped out any differences, and variations. These deviations from the norm were destroyed so perfectly our racial memories have forgotten them.

Every species, save Homo sapiens, had longo ago perfected the art of genocide.

I wonder if I shall ever sleep again.

Source

Original Source

Zork'ak reached Wren’ quarters just before the agreed sunlight. Xe had been reguarly meeting with Wren and walking with her even though xe now knew were the room was. Xe interpreted it as a bonding experience, and xe wanted to be part of their pack, partially to learn more about the species and partially because xe was beginning to grow fond of the humans. It was an unusual emotion for Klyls to experience.

Wren was running around the room, clothes thrown everywhere, throwing more around the space when she noticed Zork'ak standing there.

“Hold on! I can’t find my other shoe.” She continued to dig through one of the piles. “Where is the damn thing!” She tripped over something on the ground falling over.

“Wren,” Zork'ak asked from where xe stood, “why does your quarters not have organized bins?”

She was under the bed now. “Don’t need ‘em.”

“I would be happy to help you label bins for this so you could find each item.”

“Nah. I can find it.” Zork'ak was about to offer xer help again when Wren popped out from under the bed. “Found it!” She held up her shoe before pulling it onto her foot. Zork'ak could not comprehend out Wren found anything in her quarters, but xe understood little of humans. They were not the most efficient species, far from it. Their decision did not match the evolutionary process in the slightest.

Zork'ak turned away to leave the quarters when xe caught a glimpse a small table in the corner. The table had a piece one leg missing and books stacked underneath the table to level it out. “Wren, if your table is broke, we can provide a replacement.”

She slipped passed Zork'ak. “Nah. I fixed it. Let’s go.”

“I do not believe you have ‘fixed it.’” Zork'ak was not sure if this was how humans improved objects.

“Well, it works doesn’t it?”

Zork'ak thought about that one. “I suppose it must.” Wren grinned wildly, and Zork'ak remembered the other part of xer confusion over Wren’s room. “Wren?” She looked back at xem, a smirk still on her face. “Why is it that you own so many covering devices?”

“You mean clothes?” Zork'ak “shrugged.” Xe had learned how to move xer upper body in the human-like gesture. “Well, I can’t wear the same ones every day.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, they get dirty.”

“Do you often partake in activities that stain and soil your coverings?”

Wren was staring up at Zork'ak now quite confused. “Well, no, but there’s sweat and dirt and oil. So we wear different clothes every day to be clean.”

“I do not see how you secrete these fluids and they cause your clothes to become unwearable.”

“I guess. Well, you know how humans secrete oils and sweat?” Zork'ak nodded. This the Klyls did know about humans. “It gets on our clothes and so we want fresh ones instead of piling the oils and sweat on top of more.”

    “And why is it you need these coverings? Would it not be more efficient to not cover your body instead of catching the secretions and trapping them on your skin?”

“Well, on Earth, it is not allowed to be naked. Humans believe we should cover certain parts. They say it is not acceptable to see the entirety of another person if you are not like, well, kind of really good friends with them.”

Zork'ak looked down at xer body. Xe were covered in protective scales and did not see a reason to cover the body. Earth customs did make little sense. “Is it because your body is easily harmed?”

“Partly. We protect our body from cold or the sun or the rain. Different things.”

“I suppose you would need coverings considering your, um,” Zork'ak looked down at Wren,“ your skin is not particularly effective at defense.”

Wren giggled at that, for some unknown reason, and stopped in the hallway, turning left. Zork'ak followed her into the “grappling room,” where Faradae was standing in the center of the room, using his hands to fight with another individual. It was an interesting and interesting movement. When they finished and invited them in, Faradae approached Zork'ak to discuss a new tactic to introduce this class. Zork'ak quickly relayed the information, focusing on Faradae’s hands.

"Are you hurt?” Zork'ak asked after finishing his report.

Faradae looked down at his hands. There was a thin, white material wrapped around several of his fingers. “Eh. I had to tape my fingers. Hurt a few of them when I was boxing.”

“And you continue to practice with your extremities damaged?”

“I mean, it’s not that bad. It’ll heal.” Zork'ak began to wonder how all of their bones seemed to heal.

After the class, the group went to third meal, sitting at a table with Zork'ak. Carrie took a bite into her mixed spices and grains, making a face that looked quite unpleasant.

“Oh, that smells terrible.”

Adam leaned over breathing it in deeply. “You’re right.” He proceeded to take a bite. “Pretty bad, too.”

Several of the other humans passed the bowl around to smell and taste the food, each announcing what the others had already claimed: that it both smelled and tasted bad.

“If the food is unpleasant, xe can find you something more suitable.”

Carrie shook her head, reclaiming her bowl, and continued to eat the substance. “It’s not that bad.”

“Did you not all agree that the food was not to your liking?”

Carrie shrugged, shoveling more in her mouth. “The more you eat, the better it gets.” Adam leaned over to steal another spoonful and agreed that it did taste better the second time.

“Why is it that you all feel the need to smell and eat the food. Do you not trust Carrie’s opinion?”

Steve laughed. “We just like to also experience it.”

“You like to experience something you know you will not enjoy.”

Steve and Adam looked at each. “Well, yeah.” Adam said.

Zork'ak was continuing to learn that the Klyl’s knew nothing about these humans.

Original Author - nonbinarygaymergirl

Original Post Tumblr

Aliens are astonished that humans consider anything they like/love as their children.

• A dangerous predator? No It's Human Steve's fur baby.
• A tree? No that's Clyde. The baby of the Human who lives nearby.

Let me be clear, under no circumstances will you ever hurt the "babies" adopted by humans. If you do, I dont know who you are.

What is Humans are Space Orcs?

The "humans are space orcs" trope portrays humans as vastly different and superior to aliens, not just in physical strength but also in intelligence, unique approaches to tasks, and sometimes technological advancements. It doesn't require humans to be superior overall, but rather showcases the differences between humans and aliens.

This trope allows for scenarios where aliens are perplexed by human behavior or choices despite their overall superiority. While some people criticize this trope for being unrealistic, it's mostly enjoyed as a way to tell entertaining stories about humans while acknowledging their unlikelihood.

What is the purpose of this community?

This community is to share HASO themed stories, art, memes, writing prompts etc. The content can be in any format as long as it stays true to the trope.

Rules

1. The content should be true to the Humans are Space Orcs trope.
2. No bullying/bigotry is permitted.
3. Follow the rules of sh.itjust.works.

For HFY, visit !hfy@lemmy.world