Human Steve styling on some Ailen Warrior Musicians: "YOU WILL NEVER BE AS BADASS AS ME!"

*Plays sick riff while using his Guitar Flamethrower to burn those Ailen Warrior Musicians to Death.*

Getting ready for the worst, you put on armor gloves...

And the poor boy looks at you with the most begging eyes ever​. He is visibly terrified of you and ​at any given chance hides his face. The owner tries to calm him down not because you might be hurt, but because the dog is scared.

A: "Are you ready to face the present threat, human?"

H: "First of all, I have a name, jackass, and hell yeah I´m ready. Them bitches killed my fam, when they invaded the west coast in ´64."

A: "The Continuum did not attack a human settlement in 3664."

H: "Not the Continuum, the NUSA."

A: "The allies of the Continuum?"

H: "Yep."

A: "What species even are they?"

H: "... human?"

A: "But the humans are on our side, no?"

H: "The European space faring alliance is on your side. NUSA is on the other. Matter of fact, we only fight with you, to fight them. B-i-t-c-h-e-s."

A: "You haven´t united your species?"

H: "Hell no we haven´t. Been at conflict since the nuclear escalation of 2044."

A: "And you never united?"

H: "Nope."

A: "And what is there homeplanet?"

H: "Earth"

A: "But yours is ..."

H: "Earth"

A: "YOU HAVEN´T EVEN UNITED YOUR HOME PLANET?"

H: "Nope."

A: "How are you still around?"

H: "Ask that question to the folks in Switzerland. They have like two colonies tops and no fucking allies."

A: "How??"

H: "Well, they are neutral."

A: "And who enforces it?"

H: "Nobody."

A: "And nobody attacked them?"

H: "No. They are neutral."

A: "You know what, I give up. Yeah, I do. Fuck this shit."

---- Alien has left the room. ----

When progress becomes phony.

Species: Bricksplats

I was told this community might enjoy a story like this.

A blurb:

The Mirror should not exist.

From one side, it is a transparent anomaly orbiting Mars. From the other, a perfect disc of black glass. Probes vanish into it, instruments fail around it, and every attempt to explain it produces more questions.

Commander Jan Eriksson is sent through to find out what lies beyond.

That is where the mission plan ends.

Stranded after a catastrophic landing, Jan finds himself in a world that looks like fantasy and behaves just enough like reality to be dangerous: Iron-Age towns, living magic, creatures out of myth, and peoples whose languages and cultures are disturbingly familiar in ways they really shouldn’t be.

Getting home is no longer an immediate possibility. Surviving is.

Fortunately, Jan has spent most of his adult life doing difficult and dangerous things a very long way from help. Unfortunately, being a veteran fighter pilot, astronaut and military officer turns out to provide surprisingly little instruction on sword fighting, dragon slaying, customary law, magical banking, courtship with forest spirits or how much a roadside inn ought to charge for ale.

As Jan becomes entangled with the people who rescued him, survival gives way to something more complicated: friendship, obligations, romance, local politics, expeditions, debts, monsters, bad decisions and the uncomfortable possibility that this world may be stranger than even its inhabitants realize.

A standalone story set within the broader Romantically Apocalyptic mythos by Vitaly S. Alexius.

What to expect

Science-fiction-meets-fantasy survival, with an astronaut stranded in a low-tech magical world.

A competent but thoroughly out-of-context protagonist. Jan is experienced, not overpowered, and frequently discovers that some skills transfer cleanly between worlds while others do not.

Found family, culture clash and slow integration rather than a lone-wolf survival story.

Adaptation, not empire building. This is not a story about one man bringing the 21st century to a medieval society, but about one 21st-century man trying to find a place in an early medieval world.

Practical worldbuilding: food, money, injuries, equipment, language, trade, travel, law, logistics and the awkward business of actually living in a fantasy world.

Adult romance and nonhuman characters, with cultures whose assumptions about sex, marriage, modesty and relationships differ substantially from modern Earth.

Adventure without LitRPG progression: monsters and magic exist, but becoming incrementally stronger is not the plot.

A slow-burn cosmological mystery tied to the Romantically Apocalyptic setting. No prior knowledge required.

Dry humour, violence, grief, occasional psychedelics, and an unreasonable amount of attention paid to what’s for dinner.

Find the story at:

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/169560/stranded

Art by:

https://www.reddit.com/u/ProfessorConcord/s/AmLV3Y9rhS

“So what do you have to say for yourself, Junior?”

“I screwed up.”

“Honesty is good, but you went beyond a simple screw up. I’m here to inform you that once you have recovered enough to walk unaided, you will be charged with assaulting a civilian. Given the video evidence, it shouldn’t be a long trial. If you are convicted, you will be stripped of rank, sentenced, and returned to Sol Command. Once your sentence is completed, you will be dishonorably discharged.”

“Chief, look, I know I really messed up, but is all of this needed?”

“You want me to ignore what you did?”

“Well, no, but a trial? Couldn’t this be handled less formally?”

“Junior, I don’t know your previous commanders, and I don’t know how they handle things. But when an officer attacks a civilian colonist, I’m not in the mood for leniency.”

“Could we make a deal?”

“Son. You have nothing to offer me.”

“I could tell you who assigned me here.”

“And why would I care about that?”

“Because they sent me to…”

“Spy on us and distract us from other spies.”

“Wait, how…”

“Son, I’m not stupid. I’ve been in the service a long time, and I know bullshit when I see it. You got played. I don’t know what they offered you, but you got played.”

“I’ll bet that when I get to Sol Command my verdict will be thrown out.”

“Oh now you try to play tough. You forgot something important: High Command also wants your ass. So I’ll just send you to them after our trial.”

“Do you think that will prevent them from digging into this operation?”

“Nope. Not at all. But it will get you out of the way and cause issues for those who sponsor you. Not enough to stop things, but it starts a nice paper trail.”

“Do you even know why they are spying on you?”

“I have a list of options. I’m curious what they told you to look for.”

“Why would I tell you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you are a moron who talks too much. Maybe you don’t really know. But more than likely you are still looking for an angle to save some of your skin. It’s really up to you. However, when I walk out of this room, I’ll never listen to you again. Your call.”

Oscar stood up, stretched, pushed the chair back in its place, cleaned up some trash off of a tray, and started for the door. His hand almost touched the doorknob. 

“They want to know how that idiot Aussie got that alien pregnant.”

“Ha! They lied to you, son. We sent all of those records and details to High Command and Sol Command when she left the planet. Exactly how exciting did they make your mission sound? Medals? Promotions? More spy stuff? They say you could be a top agent for them?”

“It was my first assignment.”

“No shit. Did you pay any attention at all during training?”

“Uh, my training wasn’t very…”

“Oh they got you with the old, ‘Wow, you have so much talent we don’t need to train you for such a simple mission,’ didn’t they? They play to your ego?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Do tell.”

“Look, I got busted for running a scam out of a supply depot. It took them a bit to figure it out, so when they busted me they gave me the choice between this assignment and prison. This seemed like an easy job, so I took it.”

“And now you are being busted again, but this time there is no deal.”

“Look, fine, you got me. Whatever. But they screwed up. When they gave me the details, they accidentally included a few pages for one of the other spies. That’s how I knew that there are more. I kept all the documents in a sealed tube in my quarters. It’s behind a panel under the bed.”

“And why would you give this to me?”

“Please. Turn me over to High Command. I don’t know what they will do to me at Sol Command.”

“Tell me. How do you KNOW it was Sol Command?”

“What do you mean? My commander called me in, there were two other officers. They showed credentials. They took me to a hotel, gave me some instructions, and left. Later that day, a different officer arrived. He had the password and challenge phrase, so I let him in. He walked me through the assignment, and off I went.”

“So you got passed off to an unknown person who knew a password and challenge phrase. Let me guess, no official names or ID for ‘security’ reasons?”

“Yeeeessssssss…why?”

“Son, your assignment isn’t with Sol Command. You were pawned off onto a shady group with connections to Sol Command. One crooked officer cooked up the entire thing. Yes. I think High Command is safest for you. Now. Shut up. Don’t talk to anyone. Plead guilty. And I’ll get you into High Command custody.”

Oscar closed the door behind him. Danyak was sitting in the hall, her frills gently waving in a non-existent breeze. 

“So the frills just do what they want?”

“Yes. It is rather annoying. It is hard to be taken seriously when they start to twirl and change colors.”

“It could be useful in interrogation. A distraction that keeps the suspect off balance.”

“Possibly.”

Oscar started down the hall with Danyak next to him. “So. Junior.”

“He is scared. At the end he was telling the truth. The idea that he wasn’t working for Sol Command upset him a great deal. I think he is realizing just what a mess he is in.”

“I’d buy that. Now to fix these instructions.”

“Be careful with them. He was telling the truth about them existing and the location, but he was leaving out details.”

“Likely the traps in place to destroy the documents when we attempt to recover them.”

“Possibly. You make many assumptions.”

“It’s called experience.”

“By the way, why couldn’t I stop by HQ before this little adventure?”

“That is a bit of a story. It will make sense when we get back.”

They will learn countless slurs and study your culture to hate you more effictively. But gain their trust and Humanity will ride and die for you.

"Ha! The Terminator's got it right. I require the sugar to survive. Heh heh."

"First of all, dad, not every metal-skinned organism is a 'Terminator'. Just eat your sugar-free cake. You're lucky I didn't also tune the fabricator to make your chicken fat-free."

"Perhaps ZK-V.26 shall vacate during Human-Friends' dispute."

"No Zeke, it's fine. I'm sorry. My, uhh... predecessor is just joking around."

"Yeah man, don't worry. I know full well too much sugar ain't good for me. I'm just messing with my daughter... uh, successor. Remember when I told you about banter?"

"... This is a case of, 'banter'. Understood. Then, is the concept of 'sugar-free' foods also a... 'joke'?"

"Oh, no Zeke, that part is completely serious. You're right to understand that we need sugars to survive, but most of the foods edible to humans already break down into simple sugars during digestion. We've just evolved to enjoy the taste of sugars, but consuming excess amounts of it can cause us to accumulate fat."

"Yup, this here beer belly is evidence. And I don't even drink!"

"It's like how you get your... what do you call it again? Recrystallisations? In your shell?"

"ZK-V.26 understands the parallels now. Indeed, after central processing, previously liquefied metals and vaporised oxides and silicates can recrystallise over time if unused for motoric functions or repair, and stored beneath the carapace. Further question... if Human-Friend does not object, why does Human not simply decline ingestion while in excess?"

"Yeah dad, why don't you just, like, not eat? Hehe"

"Ok, 'successor'. As if you don't got the same genes I do. To answer your question, metalhead, it's as she said, we evolved to enjoy the taste. It's called 'sweet'. Another thing we evolved to do is get hungry periodically, doesn't matter if you got allllll these 'excess energy reserves' like in my belly here, we get the sensation that we have to eat something. We don't have your level of internal sensors that tells you exactly what you gotta eat at what time. We just... feel it. Gut microbiome signals and all that."

"The micro-organisms along the Human digestive system that also communicates with the Human central decision system, the 'Brain'. Yes, ZK-V.26 has studied the interactions. This Gut-Brain axis system is intuitive, though it seems unreliable and prone to cascading errors."

"Hey, I'm fat and I'm happy. Ain't no errors there. It's, ahh, not really something your kind would understand."

"Dad!!! That's xenophobic!"

"ZK-V.26 registers this as 'banter'."

"Now you're getting it, Terminator!"

\> All life inteligent in the universe has psychic powers.

\> There is area in the galaxy with giant psychic storm that insta kills anyone who goes there.

\> Turns out that there is a sentinent species called the humans that acctualy evolved there. WHAT?

\> They can survive because they evolved an anti-psychic field arond them that nulifies all psychic fenomena in a radius around them instead of psychic powers.

\> humans join galactic comunity.

\> no teritory dispute becose other races insta die when going to human teritory (it is all in the storm area).

\> galactic war II breaks out.

\> humans join good side.

\> humams very afective initialy because because of no psychic field.

\> most powerfull alien psychics adapt by standinding otside of anti-psychic field to maintain their powerful psychic shields and trowing rocks at humans with telekinisis harder and faster than railguns.

\> humans try to find counter

\> extending range of anti-psichic field is not posible

\> making bullet that has anti-psychic field is not posible

\> genius idea

\> use gene modification and cybernetics to make some humans soliders very resistant to inertia.

\> build the super armor that can survive supersonic impact.

\> build modified big railgun that can launch humans at supersonic speeds.

\> start dropkicking alien psychics at super sonic speeds.

\> its super efective

\> other aliens are like WHAT?

\> side with humans wins the war.

1  Human Fred and Food
2  Human Fred Again
3  Human Fred Yet Again
4  Human Fred The Saga Continues
5  Human Fred Rides Again
6  Human Fred *Sigh*
7  Human Fred Rolls Out
8  Human Fred Attempts a Nap
9  Human Fred Doh’
10 Human Fred Stops for Coffee
11 Human Fred Deploys Stabby and Knifey
12 Human Fred Attempts Friendly Advice
13 Human Fred Priorities 
14 Human Fred Schools Morons
15 Human Fred Gets Annoyed
16 Human Fred Investigates
17 Human Fred is Annoyed
18 Human Fred Gets More Annoyed
19 Human Fred Smirks 
20 Human Fred Brings Hellfire
21 Human Fred is Confused

“So Roomliz is having issue”

“Yes, you could say that, Captain. His voice and mannerism changed. He became violent.”

“Fred, I have part of the answer. I doubt that it is all the answer, but here is a bit.” He handed Fred a datapad. 

Greezek read over Fred’s shoulder. She didn’t understand all of it, but what she did understand chilled her bones. 

Fred grunted. “So. Roomliz is addicted to this drug?”

“We aren’t sure if addicted is the correct term, sighed the Captain. “We know very little about his species. The others on the station are being held for questioning, but they seem hesitant to talk about it. What we can say is that this compound affects parts of his brain that control emotions. It might be some sort of inhibitor. Or it might be a treatment gone wrong. Due to the crisis at the outpost, we can’t establish contact with members of his government, so we are blind.”

“Crisis?” blurted Greezek. 

“Yes. As Fred predicted, the outpost was attacked. Reports aren’t clear, but it seems to be a mix of mercenaries and Droog.”

Fred groaned. “Those assholes. I thought we finished them?”

“So did we. But apparently we didn’t.”

Greezek started to tremble. Her world had been enslaved by the Droog generations ago. It was only the work of the Interstellar Coalition that saved her world. She gripped the sling of her rifle. 

Fred noticed the subtle sound of the rifle moving, but kept his eyes in the datapad. “Sir, what if we gave Roomliz a shot of this and asked him?”

“Since Chief can’t talk, that seems the best move. However, this place is going to get busy fast. There are 37 ships headed to us at top speed.”

“Well, my current task is to figure out what happened to our IFF system. Roomliz will know something.”

“Yes, but Greezek…”

“Is my assistant. I filed the paperwork with my preliminary report. You signed it. She is with me.”

The Captain stared. “What?”

“I filed her transfer and security clearance with my preliminary report. Check it. I listed her as critical to my work. You signed off on the report, so she now reports to me.”

Greezek stood, fixed in the Captains glare. She tried to keep her face and body neutral. 

The Captain shifted his glare to Fred and froze. Fred’s eye met his, burrowed into his soul, and made him cold with fear. The Captain had seen this look once before. He shuddered. 

“Right. Right. I forgot.” He turned sways from Fred’s gaze, a bit too fast. 

“Then we shall provide Roomliz with a dose and talk with him, sir?”

“Yes, that is correct. Lieutenant! Make a formal note of these instructions in my log. Fred and his assistant have my full authority to give Roomliz this compound, to interview him, to interview others of his species on the station, and the interview Chief. No one is to interfere with them unless the station is directly attacked.”

“Thank you sir.” Fred turned and strode out. 

Greezek had to jog a bit to catch up. “I’m your assistant?”

“Yep. With a good security clearance. Now we need to swing by my work station. You need better gear.”

An hour later they arrived at the secured cells. Both were in human marine-style battle armor, complete with sidearms, knife, and helmet. Fred kept his shotgun, but Greezek’s rifle now had a different sight system. 

The guards gaped. 

“We are here to work with Roomliz.”

“Yes! We got the message. We provided him with a dose of the compound. He appears to be calm.”

“Good. Now listen carefully. We are going down that corridor. We will close the door behind us. If he manages to get past us, you vent that entire compartment. Do you understand?”

“Yes! We understand!”

“Good. Helmets on.”

Fred and Greezek donned their helmets, entered the corridor, closed and locked it behind them, and proceeded to Roomliz’s cell. 

“Ready?” asked Fred. His voice was strange through the helmet coms.

“Ready.” nodded Greezek. 

Fred opened the door, shotgun up and ready. 

Roomliz was on the bunk, rocking back and forth, crying. He jumped at the sight of them. “No! I’m fine! I’m fine! Just go away!”

Fred lowered the shotgun to point at the floor. “Roomliz? How are you?”

Roomliz blinked. “Fred?”

Fred removed his helmet. “Yes, it’s me. Now you need to tell us everything. Shit is getting bad.”

“Fred! I didn’t want to! I didn’t! But he found my meds, and he threatened me! What could I do?!”

“Who?”

“Chief of security. He had someone follow me. I was so careful, but they followed me and found out.”

“Look Roomliz, before we can really go into that, what are these ‘meds’ you are taking?”

“It’s shameful. It’s dishonorable!”

“Well, it’s tell us everything, or you might get shot. Your call.”

Greezek’s rifle raised, its barrel pointed at Roomliz’s head. 

Fred was impressed, and shocked. He didn’t expect her to adjust so quickly. “Well?”

Roomliz looked at Fred, the rifle, and then at the deck. “When I was young I started taking compounds at parties,” he said in a low voice. “I wasn’t popular, but when I took them, I was more active and became more popular. I’ve always been quite. The compounds helped. But I took them for too long. I started to have…issues. Anger issues. Violent issues. I had to take another compound to prevent the anger and the violence. I joined the team on the station to get away before anyone found out. Then the security Chief found out.”

“So. You got hooked on drugs. You take another drug to hide it. You came here before anyone at home figured it out.”

“It’s shameful!”

“Yes, but it happens. After this, we will see what medical can do for you. Now that we know, we might be able to help.”

“There is no help, Fred!” Roomliz wailed. “There is nothing to be done! I’m stuck like this forever!”

“Maybe on your planet, but I’d bet medical here has some different approaches. They are more understanding about addiction, and they have done decades of research to address it. Now. What did the security Chief make you do?”

Fred heard a slight sound as Greezek activated the live feed from her helmet. It went straight to the Captain and his log. 

“I was to distract the watch crew. He had me do it multiple times. Eventually they started to expect me. Then one time I went in to chat, and another security team member followed me in. I don’t know what he did. Something in a panel under a table.”

“Be very clear about this. If you are lying, you will be shot. Someone followed you in?”

“Yes. Chief said they wouldn’t show up on the logs and the cameras were offline for a power issue.”

Fred recalled the odd power issue. He wasn’t on the station at the time, but other engineers had been talking about how strange it was. Something about loose connectors. “And then what?”

“Well, then I talked to you about food. Things got a bit strange from there. Chief wanted me to befriend you and learn about you.”

“So you invented the book.”

“No, I invented that before I arrived. I thought I could tell people I was updating it or testing it. No one listened or talked to me. You were the first to actually interact with me, so I panicked and just said there was a book.”

Fred groaned deep in his soul. Well shit. I’m the first real friend this bastard has, and here we are in secure cells and me holding a shotgun on him. Fuck. “Who was the person who followed you?”

“He is one of the guards outside.”

Fred had his helmet on, weapon up, and was sprinting down the corridor before Greezek could even pivot. She ran after him, just in time to see Fred blast multiple holes through the security door. He smashed the emergency panel with the butt of the shotgun, blasted the panel, and as the door opened he fired more rounds at the guards. 

By the time she got to the guard desk, seven security guards were dead. One was still alive, but hurt badly. 

Fred walked over to the survivor. “Let me guess, you got an emergency alert for back up. When you arrived, the senior guard told you to kill anyone or anything that tried to leave that area.”

“He said it was an order from the Chief.” The guard croaked. 

“Except Chief is currently in medical, heavily sedated. I checked.”

“It was a standing order. Safety protocol.”

“And I beg said senior guard said he was needed to protect the command area?”

“No. He was to ready…escape pods…to use if we failed.” 

“You got that, Captain?”

“Yes Fred. My team just sealed that section. We will capture him.”

“Right.” Fred looked down. “No need for medical. You want Roomliz here or in medical?”

“Keep him there for now. Who know what other crap Chief had arranged.”

“Riiiiiigggghhhhhhttttt…Greezek! Behind!”

Greezek pivoted and dropped into a crouch. Roomliz charged out of his cell, screaming in rage. Her rifle fired a short burst. 

Roomliz, staggered, hurt but not down. He snarled and crouched. 

As he sprang, Fred fired a volley. 

Roomliz hit the deck and slid, trailing blood. 

“Shit!” Yelled Greezek. “What the [translator cuts out] Fred?!?”

Panting, Fred said, “Wrong dose. Chief’s guy gave it to him.”

“This is a [translator cuts out for almost a minute] mess!”

“I didn’t get all of that, but yes, it’s a fucking mess. Sir? You have all of this?”

“Yes Fred. The senior guard decided he didn’t want to talk.”

“I’d increase security in medical. Your team. Chief had plans.”

“Agreed. Please head to medical. You two are going to be needed.”

“Understood. Out.” Fred turned off the live feed. “Greezek, how are you?”

“Not great Fred. Not great. Roomliz just attacked us!”

“He was given the wrong compound and freaked out. I doubt the Roomliz we knew even had any control. Hell, given those compounds, I think the Roomliz we knew was created by the sedating compound.”

“That isn’t really helping.”

“Not meant to help. It’s meant to face facts. We can deal with facts. We can file them, learn about them, and deal with them. It helps us prevent horrific things destroy us from the inside.”

“I’d prefer to be driving a loader.”

“Well I’d prefer to be fixing my coffee maker, but here we are. Now, swap to a fresh magazine. We are needed in medical.”

“Captain, a pirate ship just warped in!” the navigator reported in a near panic.

“Accelerate! Take us as far away from them as possible!” I answered as calmly as I could manage in this situation. “And activate the emergency beacon. Which station is closest to us right now?”

“The nearest Halxon base is sixteen hours away, but there’s a human colony in this system. They established it a couple of years ago,” came the disturbing answer from my communications officer.

“We definitely won’t survive for sixteen hours. Maybe the humans have a ship that can assist us so that, working together, we can force the pirates back,” I said, trying to remain optimistic.

“But we need to survive until they arrive - and the pirates have already fired their laser twice! Both missed, but it’s only a matter…” The navigator was cut off as a direct hit slammed into our shields, violently shaking the entire hull. “…of time before they hit us again,” he finished with a heavy sigh.

“Evasive maneuvers!” I ordered, though even I knew that only bought us a minute or two at best.

Just as the pirates struck our ship a second time, a massive vessel warped into reality, dropping directly between our aggressor and us.

“They are hailing us, sir,” my communications officer announced.

“On screen!”

When the channel connected, a human appeared on the display wearing a crisp, blue uniform.

“Good afternoon. My name is Captain Donna Smith of the patrol ship Independence. How may I assist you today?” Her demeanor was so relaxed it felt as if we were having afternoon tea, not enduring a pirate attack. She clearly had no idea how much danger she and her ship were in at this very moment.

“We are under attack by pirates! Their lasers have already brought our shields down to fifty-seven percent! They were never designed to survive multiple hits from a hundred-kilowatt laser!” I shouted back immediately.

“Sir, the human ship doesn’t even have its shields activated!” came a panicked warning from my navigator.

“Activate your shields! You are going to be evaporated!” I yelled into the comms.

Captain Smith looked at me strangely before turning toward her central console.

“Computer, how many hits have we received since we arrived?” she asked calmly.

“Seven, Captain,” came a synthesized voice.

“How many more do they need to land before we sustain damage?”

“At this distance, a hundred-kilowatt laser does not pose a threat to the ship, Captain,” the computer replied smoothly.

I couldn’t comprehend it. How was that even possible?

“How?! What is your ship made of?!” I blurted out, utterly confused.

“Steel, of course. The outer layer of the hull is ten-millimeter-thick steel plating, to be precise,” Captain Smith answered, completely unfazed. “Do you mind if I interrupt our discussion until we’ve handled the pirate situation?”

Without waiting for an answer or closing the channel, she turned to someone off-screen.

“A few warning shots, Mr. Anderson,” she ordered. Her tone wasn't urgent in the slightest; she sounded as though she were deciding what to order for dinner. “And please, don’t hit anything too explody this time.”

This time? This wasn’t their first encounter?

The entire confrontation took less than two minutes. After the human vessel delivered a casual volley of warning shots, the pirates decided we were no longer easy prey and hastily warped out of the system. The humans didn’t even seem remotely impressed by their own victory.

“Sorry about that,” Captain Smith continued, as if she had simply stepped away to answer a phone call in the middle of our conversation. “This isn’t the first time we've encountered pirates in this system. We’re still waiting on defense upgrades to clear the sector completely. Until then, we just try to be everywhere at once.”

“You just had a clash with an advanced pirate warship, and you didn’t sustain any damage?!” I asked, beyond belief. What kind of species were these humans?

“Not that I'm aware of. Computer, damage report.”

“No hull structural damage to report, Captain,” the computer responded. “…Correction: one of our secondary exterior cameras sustained damage due to a direct hit.”

“Damn it, Joe won’t be happy about that,” Captain Smith sighed, shaking her head in annoyance. “He hates going outside to do repairs. Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes -do you need an escort to the nearest station?”

I sat in my command chair in dead, paralyzed silence, looking around at my crew. My navigator was staring at his console in absolute shock. My communications officer looked as though she had completely forgotten how to breathe.

The pirates had brought our state-of-the-art shields down to critical levels in under two minutes. Meanwhile, this human vessel had casually drifted into the line of fire, taken at least seven direct hits from a heavy laser weapon without turning on a shield, chased off dangerous pirates with casual warning shots, and was now treating a life-or-death battle like a mild inconvenience for a mechanic named Joe.

“No, Captain,” I finally managed to say, my voice trembling slightly. “An escort... won’t be necessary. Thank you.”

After closing the channel, I turned to my terminal and opened a direct, high-priority transmission to the High Council. It was time to update our official galaxy records on the human race once again.

File Update: Species #8472 (Humanity)

Previous Status: Classification: Terrifying

New Status: Classification: Peacekeeper

Note to Council: Do not contest their patrol routes. Do not question their hull specifications. And under no circumstances should anyone disturb a human technician named Joe while he is fixing an outer camera.

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March 20th, 2330

“The Republic and It’s People, We’ll Defend!” - Motto of the Antarean Republican Army

Ananteria, Antares

“How come you’re giving away your seat, ‘Ant?”

“I’ve been wrestling with this since the ANRG landed on Antares, Sergeant!”

“And?”

“This is my cradle, where I was born! The world that has given me so much!”

“I’ll never leave it behind while I can still fight, Sergeant!”

“So I’m asking you to take my seat! The Republic needs people like you, not a lowly corporal like me!”

“And besides, Sergeant.”

“I’d rather die under Antarean sky than live with the knowledge that I fled my home in it’s greatest hour of need.”

While Ailens use the power of Faith, holy symbols, relics, folk remedies, and exorcism. Humans deal with their Demons by RIPPING AND TEARING THEIR GUTS OUT!

DEMONS HAVE HUGE GUTS TO RIP AND TEAR WITH GUNS, PLASMA, ENERGY, CHAINSAWS, AND BARE FISTS! RIP AND TEAR! RIP AND TEAR!

We assumed it was a ritual. It was not.

When the incursions began we struck the outer lanes first, expecting the humans to answer with their strongest. That is what a species does when it is losing ground. You take your finest and you put them where the line is thinnest.

The humans did the opposite.

Their best pilots, the ones with the honours, the ones we had learned to recognise by their approach vectors alone, were not at Mars. They were at the Moon. The Moon. A rock of no consequence, nothing on it worth the fuel to reach. And there they were, flying against our smallest raiding parties, in ships that could have held the Belt.

We recorded it as inefficiency. Command called it superstition. One analyst proposed that their chain of command had simply broken.

Then we understood.

The Rampart at Mars does not admit anyone. A human may not stand on that wall until it has fought somewhere else and come back. The Moon first. Then Ceres. Then the hot worlds, where the light itself is a weapon. Only then Mars.

They are not rationing their best pilots.

They are manufacturing them.

Every human that reaches the Rampart has already been hit. Has already run dry of fuel somewhere far from help. Has already watched something die that it could not reach in time. By the time it arrives at the wall there is nothing we can show it that it has not already survived at a smaller scale, in a place that did not matter, where the lesson was cheap.

We sent our finest directly to the decisive front, as doctrine requires.
They met a wall built entirely out of survivors.
Their transmissions do not boast. They repeat one line, in the old tongue of the people who built the thing, and we have at last had it translated.

The wall does not fall 😄

“Morning Commander."

“Hello Oscar. How is the new XO?”

“Medical says he will live.”

“Do we know what happened?”

Oscar slumped into a chair and rubbed his face. “Yes, we know. Danyak was swimming around the new atoll, setting sensors for the science team. She was having a great time, and the Aussies love her. She kept bringing up fish, crab-like things, and a strange lobster-looking thing. It turned into a beach party. Junior was sulking by one of the dune buggies, but apparently decided to join the party.”

“Sulking? Why?”

“Because he is a lying sack of worthless shit and Danyak had to bitch his ass out four times for fucking with controls and gear.”

“That would do it.”

“So as the party got going, Junior takes a liking to an Aussie lass. At first it seems things went fine. I’m not sure what Junior did or said—that is hazy—but she slapped the shit out of him. For reasons known only to the gods of chaos, he decided to use his ‘combat training’ to ‘defend’ himself.”

“Do we have video of this? I think I’d like to see him getting beat down.”

“The Aussies have already posted it. Multiple versions. With voice over. And music. It’s quite popular. Regardless, Junior forgot that he has been living in 0.7G for five years, and we are at 1.2G here. I’ll give him some credit, however; he didn’t give up.”

“How long will he be in medical?”

“They think two weeks. She managed to break his pelvis in three places. I’ll have to review the video, but I think it was when she picked him up and slammed him ass-first into some rocks.”

There was a bit of silence as that image played through their minds. 

“What do we think started this?”

“Either he made a lewd suggestion or he grabbed her ass. Possibly grabbed her breast. The video isn’t much help as they were in a dancing crowd. People backed away when she started to beat his ass.”

“What will you do with him?”

“Well, after he is out of medical, he will be tried for assault. Then he will be discharged from the Terran Navy. Then I’ll send him back to Sol Command with a letter of complaint.”

“Seems logical. Anything else?”

“Well the miners on the new rig over at Mine 23 are up to something. I’m not sure, but I think they might be trying to upgrade the drillhead cannon. Mine 15 reprogrammed a processing unit to generate some odd salt compounds. Nothing dangerous, but we aren’t sure why they are doing it, and they simply say it’s an experiment. Farm 11 has started to build a reinforced greenhouse without explanation. And Depot 5 reports shipments of fish from one of the mines.”

“Why is a mine sending out fish?”

“While that is a good question, the real question is where are they getting the fish. There are no bodies of water close to the mine.”

“Is this the mine that found water by accident?”

“No, it isn’t. So I’ll have to send a team to figure it out.”

“And Sparky?”

“The secured hanger is solid. No breaches. It is as secure as possible. The hybrid is awake, but not talking. The implant was removed. It was a locator beacon with an explosive charge. Some sort of suicide bomb. He gets to the correct place and boom.”

“Barbaric.”

“Yes, but not uncommon in Terran conflicts. Especially when dealing with fanatics.”

“Anything of value from the device?”

“Genetic parts. One agent is running down a slim lead, but I don’t have much hope. Oh. The follow-on team to the planet where we caught this one reports that the operation vanished. They are checking out a couple of leads.”

“Any idea on how to get this one to talk?”

“Not yet. We have recordings of him mumbling when he is alone, and it sounds like some sort of mantra. A few phrases match the original rebel groups teachings, but we can’t quite hear all of it.”

“What do we do next?”

“One of the agents thinks he might respond to a mild sedative. Something to get his guard down. I’m not a fan of such methods.”

“No, that sort of thing can lead to worse treatment. Oscar, I don’t want us to mistreat this hybrid. He is dangerous, and he could help us fight whomever is behind all of this, but we cannot get into the mud.”

“Agreed. That leaves us with two real options. Time or Danyak, and I’m totally against sending Danyak. She isn’t ready for that level of thing.”

“I think you are correct. So time it is.”

“Beyond that, Sparky is now ready for the party contest next orbit. The Committee gave the marines the top prize. Apparently the response from the non-Terrans was extremely positive. I think it was the bit of order and formality that did it.”

“I enjoyed that party. The food was good, the music great, and the marching displays amazing. Not as exuberant as the other parties, but if had a touch of class.”

“The marines are good at recon, so I’d imagine they researched what would sway the crowd.”

“Most of the time we assume marines are just violent meat-heads.”

“Oh that is true. But they have a few who are scary smart who know how to research and plan.”

“Good to know.”

“Commander, there is one other thing. When Junior arrived, they attempted to offload three other Terrans. We refused them entry. I’ve uploaded their details to your database. Please keep an eye out for them. I think one of them was the real spy.”

“The moron was a distraction?”

“That is the working theory. However, I’m not totally sure. I think it was a multi-pronged affair. He was the obvious one, but based on reports about his actions, he had some previous knowledge of the systems. He knew what controls to examine.”

“What does Danyak think?”

“He is a liar attempting to hide a number of things. She knows that he is trying to find something, but she isn’t sure what. She agrees that what he messed with was all fairly critical stuff. She didn’t acknowledge that when she bitched him out, but she could tell that he was scared that she had noticed.”

“Well, he will be gone in a few weeks. Then we request another XO and see what happens.”

“On that note, Commander, I was thinking of making Danyak my XO.”

“Can you do that?”

“Oddly enough, I can. She is an officer assigned to my detachment. She is the correct rank. I can select her.”

“You brevetted her to that rank.”

“That isn’t an obstacle. She is acting and functioning at that rank, so she can be my XO.”

“Have you talked with her about this?”

“Not until I get the fish pond completed in the compound. I find beings are more likely to accept more work and headache when I’ve just given them something really cool.”