Chuck Norris

Sure, why not.

You know that picture of the little kid staring down the police with his hands on his hips all mad looking, and then someone put the caption "ITS GO TIME." on it?

That kid is a street orphan. In the country he comes from, the authorities regularly organize secret death squads that go around killing little kids like him.
The defiance is absolutely genuine; the reason he is staring the police down like that is because he has nothing left to lose.

ANOTHER HFY thread? Ugg.

>>16309898
The term is "elfaboos"
You find them in all parts of the globe.
And all because one author had a huge hard-on for them...

Sure.

Not exactly HFY, but I guess that's why I like it.

I prefer this style.

>>16310234
I think this one has always been my favourite.

>>16311132
cry falled out.

>>16311132
I almost cried when I read that.

>>16312273
>>16312273
I want an alien-mom who's totally hot.

i like the ones from the views of aliens most

>>16310249

Yeah, lots of us also read Cracked.

Is there any good UPLIFTING Humanity, Fuck Yeah stuff? Some of >>16311132 this instead of the whole USA #1 militaristic "we're the children of tough as nails gutter sluts" stuff?

>>16312385
Same. Even the ones that shows humanity as monsters are so much better from the alien point of view...
I feel like writing something now.
I like >>16312325 which paints us as good and kind and cruel and unstoppable all at once.

>>16312537
>Is there any good UPLIFTING Humanity, Fuck Yeah stuff?

Yes. Most of what's passed off as HFY these days isn't really. True HFY examines what traditional sci-fi usually interprets as our terrible flaws as a species and turns it around; revealing them as strengths. It also gives humanity credit where credit's due: Earth is a tough fucking neighborhood, and surviving it is no small feat.

HFY is X-Com. It is not hurr exterminus. Give me a minute and I'll cook up some proper OC that does it right.

>>16312601
Danke. I'm working on the same myself.

>>16312607
This is a good one. Not great, but good.

You know what they say about rocks.

>>16312601
>>16312651

You two faggots, I hope that you didn't just say that for shits and giggles. I will be F5in over here.

But really, I think the best thing about HFY stories is when they are the love ones where we're friends with someone or the funny ones about you can laugh. All else is stale and chewed-through sadly.

You, of course, are invited to prove me wrong with your writefaggotry. I'm waiting.

>>16310234
wasn't there a continuation of this story? when some human goes to their cinema or something?

>>16312767
There is. I don't have it though...

>>16312767

There are about four, one of which is a fixfic. Go to sup/tg/ if you want them. They are all over.

>>16312406
>this is the part with "balls"

>>16312767
Yes there was. It was just as good.

I noticed some HFY in fantasy as well.
Knights vs Dragons.
Sure as of late, dragons have had their scrotums massaged by every faggot writer in existance, but turn back the clock a little.
Knights gave dragons every single fucking advantage possible.
Their armor would just roast them alive if they were caught in a fire breath, they ride into battle on the equivelant of a edible plate, and their weapons should barely even dig into the dragons skin.
And yet, they fucking murder the over grown lizard, just to prove how big of a pompous pussy said dragon really is.

I bet they ate the dragons right after as well.

>>16312607
This one is well written. Good read.

>>16312767

>>16312821
much appreciated

Humans be fuckin crazy mothers.
Puttin swords and shit on their guns. As if they weren't killy enough already.

>>16312813

Ha HA, yes. Fantasy really needs more HFY. Hell, I wrote HFY in relation to dragons a while back. Still on easymodo somewhere, probably.

>>16312813
I can think of two realistic sane ways for a knight to take out a dragon. If a knight on a heavy Destrier with a heavy lance at full gallop hits the dragon, that is an awful lot of pain. The horse combined with rider+barding/armor is probably a hair under a ton at maybe 25 miles an hour or so behind a relatively sharp point. The other answer is to get a couple dozen peasants and hand out Arbalests.

>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853
>>16312853

I am a /k/ommando and I fucking ADORE this fucking post.

>arguments over 2mm size differences

Laughed so hard I almost died.

"We are the children of Humanity, little ones, and they have looked after us since we were naught but babes, a species crawling in the mud, wracked with disease and famine. Our ancestors looked up and saw them descend from on high in their mighty ships, the stars descending to answer prayers we were too stupid and primitive to even ask.
They brought with them magic, wonders greater than any we had know. The plague that nearly killed us was wiped out. We were taught how to sustain ourselves, learning things we'd long forgotten.
They were great and magnificient and our young ones played between their legs, and sat in their laps as they told us tales of the stars, sparking our creativity, filling our imaginations with the vast wonders of the cosmos.
Under their tutelage, we built great cities. We began to learn on our own, finding knowledge and impressing them with what we could accomplish. But our Gods could not stay forever.

The angels are long gone, save for their temples and monuments. But they watch over us. And Heaven help any force that incurs their wrath. I know because it was the last thing that I saw, when I was no older than you. Thirty nine cycles ago I was a young girl studying at one of the temples. I was fascinated by the angels.
And then, They came. At first, we thought they were the angels. Tall, beautiful, clad in armour that seemed hammered out of the night sky.
But they weren't our angels. Their ships cracked the earth in our cities with no heed of life. They demanded tribute, said the planet was theirs.
The elders gave in, placating these dark angels. They thought our fathers and mothers had returned, and we had disappointed them. There were some who claimed we deserved punishment.

Vague setting quote from something I'm working on off and on:

>‘Within 300 years of humanity first entering space it had become apparent that we were alone among the stars. All those years searching, all our preparations, our hope, our dread; all of it for nothing. And so for the first time in centuries we turned and looked inward at humanity and our fellow Man. We found an answer and a purpose as we turned to view our neighbors. So we killed them…’

>‘…And if we turn out not to be alone? Then when the aliens show up, I’m sure we’ll manage to kill them too.’

>>16312937

But there were others who knew these false angels for what they were. They locked themselves in the temples, and sent out the prayers. Our message was carried off into the stars, transmitted for the true angels to hear.
And they did.

In the span of three days, they came. The heavens themselves tore apart for them, great crafts with wings blocking out the sun, shining hot white from the drop into the atmosphere. Our Gods had been angered by the blasphemers.
They fought the demons tooth and nail, while we cowered in our churches, praying for salvation, repenting our sins. I was brave--or foolish--and watched them as much as I could from hiding. That was when they saw me. The demon came for me, ripping me out of my hole. His hands were like a vice on my arm, and I felt my wrist break.

It jerked me about like a ragdoll, and held me in front, daring the angel to fire in their harsh language. I could tell from the chevrons on his shoulders that he was an archange.
The demon called the angel weak, coward. And yet he wasn't. He dropped his weapons, and I thought for sure all was lost. They threw me aside, and the angel told me to run, and not look back. I scrambled to my feet, clutching my arm and crying as I fled before they could catch me.
I hid, but I didn't look away. I watched as a single angel fought them, his weapons still on the ground. Even without it, he fought on as they swarmed him.

>>16312949

That was when I saw the angel's wrath. The raw power of their judgement, here, in a part of the city already abandoned. His armour grew bright, wreathed in gold. Light exploded from his body. In moments I saw it radiate out like magic I had never seen before, burning the demons as it touched them, turning them to shadows on the wall. It was an image that will stay with me until I die. The last one I ever saw.

I later learned that the demons were gone. The angels had won, banishing them from our land forever. It all happened within a single day. The War of Angels and Demons lasted for a mere six hours.

But the galaxy will know that we are the children of Humanity. Our fathers and mothers watch over us. And Heaven help the demon that harms even a single one of their children."

>>16312953
You know, I rather like that idea actually. An uplifting race with an angelic aesthetic. A bit well done perhaps but if pulled off right would still be good.

>>16312953
It is a good read. I enjoyed it. I like being the good guys.

>>16312953
Very nice. A bit short though. Still very good for the little time you had for it.

Why cannot we have more cuddle-humans stories like this? I like being buddies or papas or mamas with aliens, it is a very feel-good situation.

>>16312679
seems like something you'd say if you had a gun put to your head.

>>16312813
"Humans? You can't mean...?"
"I do. I saw one, way back when I was a little sapling. I was nearly torn apart by a wurm, and one of them came running out of the underbrush and grabbed me by the wrist, shouting for me to run. I'll never forget it. Eventually, we ran up a tree. The wurm surrounded the tree, waiting for us to fall, and he just sat there calmly telling me stories... I nearly wet myself, but it was like he was in a tavern, talking over... over Lilsyndrus getting drunk off honey mead! And oh, his stories! He told me such wonderful things, of cities underground, and in the sky! Treasure, and rescuing princesses and saving people...
"And when it was my turn, all I had was getting kissed on Everhal Eve by the alfking's son one time. It was just... I felt so small, and tiny, and he was so... so BIG. I can't believe humans are so big, not just taller than an elf, but... but BIGGER! It was like he couldn't be contained in a person, and then, and then when I started crying, wishing for my mother, do you know what he did?"
"He raped you?"
"No! It was nothing like that!"
"What, I've heard that's what they do. It's what everyone says, I mean, that's why we're supposed to stay away."

>>16313097
"Those are stupid stories, he... he jumped down! Like it was nothing! He pulled out his sword and, and I couldn't even look! When it was all quiet, and I peeled my fingers from my eyes, the both of them were dead, the human and the wurm.
"I climbed down, tears all in my eyes, and I did the best job of giving him a proper burial that I could. I covered him over with sticks and stones, and then I finally came home, and everyone wondered where I was. Nobody believed me of course, but then I took them to see the body..."
"And? What, did he start a forest fire?"
"Gods, you're so gullible. No, he wasn't even there anymore! And what's more, the wurm was all carved up, with great chunks taken out of it, like he'd pulled pieces off for his armour, or just to eat!"
"And you say I'm gullible? So what, humans are immortal? They just get right back up?"
"I don't know, I mean... maybe? He just... he was dead, but then he wasn't. And it was like, like it was nothing... and so, I've been trying to find another one ever since. That's why I keep traveling. And one day... one day I'll see the human again, and he can explain it all to me..."

>>16313097
>>16313106
I like this one.

I'm trying to work with one concerning the sci-fi angle. I've got ann idea in mind, but I'm either not quite nailing in execution or I'm just tired. But I love the "humanity is awesome" angle more than anything else.

>>16313106
I love the way you write!

>The humans, I think, knew they were doomed. Where another race would surrender to despair, the humans fought back with greater strength. They made the Minbari fight for every inch of space. In my life, I have never seen anything like it; They would weep, they would pray, they would say goodbye to their loved ones, and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of death itself, never surrendering. No one who saw them fighting against the inevitable could help but be moved to tears by their courage. Their stubborn nobility. When they ran out of ships, they used guns, when they ran out guns they used knives and sticks and bare hands. They were magnificent. I only hope that when it is my time, I may die with half as much dignity as I saw in their eyes in the end. They did this for two years they never ran out of courage but in the end, they ran out of time.

>>16313158
Thanks. I need to do more of it.

There are many species amongst the stars, separated by the vast, eternal gulf between worlds. There are allies steadfast and enemies most foul. But there is one species that I long to fully understand. Let me tell you of the humans.

It was long ago, when I was young, first learning my glyphs, in fact, and how to clutch a stylus and write my name, when the humans made contact with us. It was their first contact, and they showed such an exuberance that was almost unheard of. Their diplomats, artists, merchants, and journalists swarmed over our worlds, so excited to finally make contact with intelligent life. They wanted to know everything, our history, our culture, our biology. We treated them like one would treat a curious child, after all, they were so much smaller, and their accomplishments so much fewer than ours. We tolerated their presence, and they loved us for it.

It would have remained this way were it not for the Qaelwreth Invasion. We were blindsided, unprepared for a war of this magnitude, unsure of why a species would simply throw away centuries of peace and prosperity, ignore every law and treaty the Panspecies Coalition has created. But the humans rallied alongside us. Their weapons were crude, their ships were small, their soldiers stunted and scrawny, and yet they were prepared to die to help us, their "brothers".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSgiXGELjbc

In my mind Carl Sagan is the pinnacle of anything sci-fi, especially HFY, and so this song is perfect for the vibe I get from the genre as a whole.

>>16313248
We all know how the invasion went. The humans scavenged, stole, and adapted anything they could get a grip on. By the end of the war their ships were as maneuverable as ours, as resilient as ours, and, I hate to admin it, outclassed us completely in firepower. But the humans never demanded tribute for their assistance. They split the crushed Qaelwreth worlds evenly, smiling as they forced the scattered remnants to sign treaty after treaty, encouraging us to take whatever we could from them. There are few creatures in this universe more cunning and wily than a human diplomat. They have a way of making you feel as though you cheated them, while they dip their hands into your pockets and take all you hold dear.

I did not truly make a human's acquaintanceship until some time later, after I had enlisted in the Self Defense Forces. I was assigned to assist a human platoon in a joint operation during the Badashi Conflict, the humans finding our combat armatures to be a most excellent compliment to their infantry formation during the guerilla warfare on that blasted fen world. It was there that I learned of the human mindset. Humans take to war like no other species I have encountered. They suffer the scars of battle the same as any, but they show an adaptability that is most remarkable. I have seen a human soldier stay up 16 Standard Units, staring ahead, unblinking and vigilant. I have seen a human watch his brother die, and still remain fighting. I have seen a human swinging his utility knife towards the gullet of a Badash stormtrooper, even as it beared down upon him and commanded him to lay down his arms. But there is one moment I remember most clearly.

>>16313349

One human I had become close to, by the name of Josiah, was injured during a heavy firefight in the muck-fields. The Badash were bearing down on our position, and Josiah was nearly dead. We could extract him, but he would live the rest of his life a cripple, and it would drastically reduce our chances of escape. Josiah motioned for us to retreat, struggling against me when I attempted to scoop him up and carry him. "Go on, you stalk-eyed fuck!" he shouted at me, "I'll be fine!" The rest of his platoon nodded and dragged me away, despite my protest. I heard the Badash burst through the treeline as we retreated deep into cover, and I heard Josiah give a choking gasp. Josiah detonated his full compliment of explosives as the Badash were upon him, wiping out their entire force and turning the muck-fields into a dried pit of ash. Later, I asked one of our comrades, Konrad, why he did that. The Badash would have allowed him surrender, would given him medical treatment. Konrad gave a sneer and nodded. "Josiah did it to spite those slimy Badash assrammers."

It took me some time to understand this concept of spite. To humans, it is a desire, a will to harm, annoy, or otherwise inconvenience a foe by any means necessary, even at harm to themselves. And as the Badashi Conflict continued, I saw more example of this spite, as the humans burned their colonies and scuttled their ships, just to deny the Badash use of them.

And that is why I hold a bit of fear for our tiny friends. A species who is so determined not to win, but to cause his enemy harm that he is willing to destroy what he holds most dear. It is a strange concept, and yet, they thrive. The galaxy holds many wonders, and I am proud to have met one of them.

i hope my HFY thing i just wrote wasn't too obnoxious, thanks for reading.

They'll never tell you what really happened in the Great War. Not the truth of the beginning, or the end. But I will tell you the truth young Spawn-Kith, so you can know your destiny and the destiny of your people.

I was only a few cycles older then you were when the War began. Our Colonies, so long used to peace suddenly rising up in a heated exchange. Just like they will tell you now. But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst was what was behind such a slaughter. Those... dark things... Impossible to us. Manipulating us. Making us weak. And when they blacked out both of our suns and turned our world into an eternal night, they came. Scouring our world clean of life. Turning our brethren into mockeries of what we are.

When they got to our colonies main hive, I foolishly waded out with the others to fight. Soldiers, workers, drones. All standing side by side to defend the queen. But to no avail.

All of our lives did was buy us time. Sacrifices to gain mere minutes before we were just... gone.

After a hour I turned from brave kith to just a cowering spawn-kith. The scent of stress pheromones coming off of me... well, you could of smelled me days away. And the shadows just got closer, and closer, and closer...

...Then... it came.

>>16313367
I enjoyed it thoroughly! Thank you for sharing.

>>16313392

As alien as the monsters, it came in a flash of light and a roll of thunder. Still smoking from it's travels. A mockery of us. Hardened black flesh. Two arms. And two legs standing upright! This new monster put it's self between the darkness and me... and while our chitin and blades were nothing but jokes to the shadows, this new thing's blades cut it to ribbons. It reached out and grabbed the darkness where ever it was, and the darkness felt pain.

When it was all over. This thing and its kith came upon me, wounded and scared. And the first creatures 'head' split open to reveal actual -flesh- underneath!

It opened it's mouth, showed it's teeth to me, and with the utmost care helped my broken form up to its feet. It walked me back to the entrance to our hive, and gently coaxed me back inside.

And when I looked back, it was still showing its teeth. It placed one of it's weird appendages to it's chest and left me with a single word.

'Hoo-man'.

...And when I looked outside the next day, both suns burned bright in the sky. And the Great War was just a memory that most wanted to forget.

But I'll never forget it. Because when that... hoo-man reached down to pick me up. It was not because it thought me weak. But because it knew I was strong.

Hoo-mans walk up there, among the stars. Striding wide steps like Gods.

And they're waiting for you, me, and the rest of us to take their place beside them as Kith, young one.

And one day... We will."

Keep it alive dudes, I'll try and post some oc tomorrow. I'm just wiped out now.

usually write my stories in the point of view of humans, so this was kind of interesting.

Bullies, would be what humans would call the V'grog. Arrogant, cocky, mean spirited, self righteous, and unnecessarily cruel.
The V'grog aren't the most intelligent or advanced race in the galaxy, but they are the strongest, and they knew this. They would attempt to fornicate with any female of any race they could come across, sometimes forcefully depending on the individuals pride. And they would start fights with any one for the smallest reasons to prove a point that never existed in the first place. The V'grog are the strongest race in the galaxy. Well...That is until humans came along.

I remember, when I was young, I lived on a multi-world (A neutral world that any alien could live on.) called Sendar. I just finished my daily working schedule and went with two of my friends I met when I arrived on Sendar to the public forums to chat and have a good time. My friend Veet, a Triarii, told me his usual mathematical jokes, which by now I've come to appreciate. And in my boisterous laughter, I accidentally bumped into another.

>>16313424
“Forgive me, I did not see yo-”. I couldn't even finish my sentence before the V'grog lifted me from the ground, holding me so close that I could feel the warm air from his snout.
“You got a lot of nerves, blue boy!” he barked at me, bringing his other claw back and balling it into a fist. I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst.

“Leave him alone...” I heard a voice call out, I opened my eyes to see a human, young, no older than young adult by his races standards.
“This doesn't concern you, pinkie!” The V'grog stated.
“Then just leave him alone.” The Human countered.
With a growl, the V'grog threw me to the ground, my friends coming to help me up. I could only look in horror and prepared to see the human take my beating for me.

>>16313429
The V'grog lifted his new victim by the neck, the human coughed as his air flow was cut out.
“What a pathethic race! I don't see why my people don't just wipe you from exis-”. Just like I, the V'grog's sentence was cut short as the humans eyes opened, bringing both his hands to bare before planting his thumbs into the V'grogs eyes. He yelped as the human's thumbs pushed deeper into his skull, dropping the human who refused to release his death grip. With a grunt of effort, the human pulled his own head back before launching it into the V'grogs skull with a sickening crack.

He didn't move, the V'grog was completely motionless, no one dare approach him to even see if he was alive. The human spit on his downed enemy before walking towards me, I don't even think I took a breath in those moments.

The stern look he had on his face before was completely gone, replaced with a look of worry.
“You alright, buddy?” He asked me as he offered me a hand, I could only stare dumb founded for what felt like forever before nodding, taking his five fingers in my three.

Henry is the humans name. He and I are good friends now, regularly inviting my other friends and I to “his place” to “Watch the game”.
Humans are strong, but they are humble, and if I do say so myself. A human friend is a friend for life.

Anyone got the "braincase" one?

>>16309898

Hold on a second, my friend.

I would ask that you watch this and consider your feelings and those of the one who has angered you so.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PN5JJDh78I

Back to the front page with you.

>>16313459
I cried. I don't even know why; I'm not especially sad or happy or any emotion, really.
But I cried.

>>16313332
"Ever since the first of us looked up through the waves, we have wanted to go to space. To see the stars, and touch them.

It's a childish thing, to want to go out among them, sailing the black waves. But everyone knows that it's impossible. Every species that has ever existed has come to the point where they realize that space travel is impossible. Existing in space is something that no species is capable of doing. And they give up. On Keldon, to be a dreamer is pejoratively know as thinking of 'star stuff'. Every species knows that space travel is impossible.

Every species except one. They gird themselves in steel and fibers made simply to keep them alive. They wrap themselves in waste recycling units and breathing apparatus. They create machines so large they seem like mountains of iron sitting upon great treads, all to transport their secret to space travel. The thing they use to go out to the stars: A rocket. A great, massive weapon, aimed not at terrestrial enemies or used for bursting into colours like so many Life Day celebrations. No, they strap themselves into the nose cones of rockets, take aim at the endless eternities, and fire.

Where other civilizations stopped, seeing madness and suicide, they saw endless possibility. We only saw the endless eternities. And that was what it was to us. That is why we never became a space faring race. No one did. No one except these brave fools, turning enemies into allies for the sole goal of spreading outward, discovering. We never would have known we weren't alone in the universe had it not been for them. No other race would have come from the stars. The Gorlic? The Rafinaquas? The Skweb? No, no other race would have ever dreamed of something so stupid, so suicidal, so dangerous and destructive.

Only the humans did. And to this day, we thank them. They have given the galaxy its greatest gift. The ability to gaze into the eyes of what is possible and shout:
'FUCK YOU'"

-- Hadsen fon Risif, Aldeni Spacemonaut Graduation, Universal Standard Date 002743 Aleph.

>>16313581

I understand your tears, man.

I understand your tears.

>>16313459
>>16313581
It's beautiful. These are the tears one gets from experiencing beauty.
Not of image, of aesthetic.
But beauty of concept. Beauty of idea. Of ideal.

>>16313583
>>16313590

I have to say, that is the best way to explain human space travel.

Here's another fucking mind-blowing speech.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17h4oLRsJ2w

>>16313367
I liked it, there are not enough stories with Spite being humanity's defining thing.

>>16312937
>>16312949
>>16312953

>>16313097
>>16313106

>>16313457
I think that was the first one to grace /tg/.

>Fantasy HFY

I only ever knew my father's best friend. A quiet man, sturdiest person to ever walk the earth - if you asked something of him, he'd do it, no questions asked. At least for me. Closest thing I ever had to a father. It never really occurred to me that it was strange that a man that was not my father would do these things. Not until the night he died. 'Mackie', as I called him, had some kind of cancer. The local healers had done everything they could for him, bless'em, but it was eating into every bone in his body before he'd even sought help. Little they could do.

Anyway, back to my uncle's death bed. He says to me, you know actually starts talking to me with more than five or ten words at a time, he says, "Erik," he says, "Erik, let me tell you about your father. It'll be the last thing I ever do tell you, son."

Mack NEVER talked about my dad. Always strange, but Mackie never said much of anything, quiet guy, like I said. Anyway, he begins, "Erik...your father is in hell." Naturally my first reaction is complete befuddlement and bewilderment and confusion and...what? I was very confused and a little upset, let me express it. "He's in hell for saving my life." Again, confusion, so I say to Uncle Mackie, hey what the fuck man. That's not cool. How did he die saving you? "Listen, son. He didn't die. He went to hell for me." I sit there stunned for a minute, not understanding how this makes sense. Then it dawns on me, the man's being eaten alive by fucking cancer and I pat his hand and shush him, try to make him comfortable before the end. "No, you fool! I am not delirious. I have internalized this damnation of my soul for decades, now let me confess!" So, seeing as Mackie had never said so many words combined into a single sentence before in my presence or with quite such passion, I sat back down.

>Continued

>>16313248
>>16313349
>>16313363

"It will not be we who reach Alpha Centauri, and the other nearby stars, it will be a species very like us, but with more of our strengths and fewer of our weaknesses, more confident, far-seeing, capable, and prudent. For all our failings, despite our limitations and fallibilities, we humans are capable of greatness." (Carl Sagan)

>>16313667
See, now THAT is a violent and gritty Humanity done well. When everything is just matter-of-fact for humans. We don't revel in it, but we don't hate it. We just... are. It's perfectly normal for one of us to take revenge to an extreme and survive in a hostile wilderness.

>>16313392
>>16313404

DON'T MAKE ME COUNT TO SMIDLARS.

>>16313429
>>16313434

About twelve years ago, a man died in high orbit over Tau Ceti V.

His name was Drake McDougal, and aside from a few snapshots and vague anecdotes from his drinking buddies, that’s probably all we’ll ever know about him. Another colony-born man with little records and little documentation, working whatever asteroid field the Dracs deigned to allow them. Every now and then a Drac gunship would strut on through the system, Pax Draconia and all that. But that was it.

One fine day, one of those gunships had a misjump. A bad one. It arrived only ninety clicks above atmo, with all of its impellers blown out by the gravatic feedback of Tau Ceti V’s gravity well. The Dracs scraped enough power together for a good system-wide broadbeam and were already beginning the Death Chant when they hit atmo.

People laughed at the recording of sixty Dracs going from mysterious chanting to “what-the-fuck’ing” for years after they forgot the name Drake McDougal. The deafening “CLANG” and split second of stunned silence afterwards never failed to entertain. Drake had performed a hasty re-entry seconds after the gunship and partially slagged his heatshield diving after it. Experts later calculated he suffered 11Gs when he leaned on the retro to match velocities with the Dracs long enough to engage the mag-grapples on his little mining tug.

>>16313822

Even the massively overpowered drive of a tug has its limits, and Drake’s little ship hit hers about one and a half minutes later. Pushed too far, the tug’s fusion plant lost containment just as he finished slingshotting the gunship into low orbit. (It was unharmed, of course; the Drac opinion of fusion power best translated as “quaint,” kind of how we view butter churns.)

It was on the local news within hours, on newsnets across human space within days. It was discussed, memorialized, marveled upon, chewed over by daytime talk-show hosts, and I think somebody even bought a plaque or some shit like that. Then there was a freighter accident, and a mass-shooting on Orbital 5, and of course, the first Vandal attacks in the periphery.

The galaxy moved on.

Twelve years is a long time, especially during war, so twelve years later, as the Vandal’s main fleet was jumping in near Jupiter and we were strapping into the crash couches of what we enthusiastically called “warships,” I guaran-fucking-tee you not one man in the entire Defense Force could remember who Drake McDougal was.

Well, the Dracs sure as hell did.

>>16313838

Dracs do not fuck around. Dozens of two-kilometer long Drac supercaps jumped in barely 90K klicks away, and then we just stood around staring at our displays like the slack-jawed apes we were as we watched what a real can of galactic whoop-ass looked like. You could actually see the atmosphere of Jupiter roil occasionally when a Vandal ship happened to cross between it and the Drac fleet. There’s still lightning storms on Jupiter now; something about residual heavy ions and massive static charges or something.

Fifty-eight hours later, with every Vandal ship reduced to slagged debris and nine wounded Drac ships spinning about as they vented atmosphere, they started with the broad-band chanting again. And then the communiqué that confused the hell out of us all.

“Do you hold our debt fulfilled?”

After the sixth or seventh comms officer told them “we don’t know what the hell you’re talking about” as politely as possible, the Drac fleet commander got on the horn and asked to speak to a human Admiral in roughly the same tone as a telemarketer telling a kid to give the phone to Daddy. When the Admiral didn’t know either, the Drac went silent for a minute, and when he came back on his translator was using much smaller words, and talking slower.

“Is our blood debt to Drake McDougal's clan now satisfied?"

This one got away from me, I think... Maybe time to hit the sack.


I met him in a cantina, outside the city on Selda. A scum bar. It was the last place he would have been a mere hundred years ago, but this is where he found himself now. We're not even allowed to print his name after all these years, though he's been pardoned for his crimes. So many crimes, but he's been pardoned.
Many young history buffs, fresh from their first molts, wonder why someone like Him would be pardoned. But for all his crimes, for all the evil he did, there are many who can't help but feel one thing for him...
Pity.
Pity for what the humans did to him.

When I met with him, he was drunk. The cheap and potent Vermon beer that I'm sure none of our readers would ever try. Expecting as much, I'd brought along Knurdic pills, and dropped them in his drink. With sobriety, he became sullen, but eventually agreed to talk, so long as I promised to let him drink when I was done.
This is the story that he told me.

"I used to be something. I used to rule the galaxy. I was a sultan of every planetary system I set foot on. I conquered whole solar systems. They saw me as a God-Emperor.
"And then... the humans came. At first I thought they were nothing. Like so many other species that tried to stop me. They built up their tiny little world, and I sought to crush it beneath my heel. To make them fall in line.
"And I did. I destroyed a third of them in a single moment, and for a time. Until one little human battleship came to the edge of my system, sending out a message, asking me to come meet with them, to talk peace. I laughed. I remember that... I laughed, right into the message.
"Oh God, I wish I hadn't done that..."
For a while, he begged me for alcohol of any sort. Finally, I gave in, and it took another hour before he could talk.

>>16313822
I see what you did there and I love it.

>>16313874
"I laughed at them, but I went along. I went to the edge of my domain... oh Gods, I was a fool. I never expected anything...
I went to the edge of the galaxy, and their leader telejumped to the bridge. Diplomacy is the first thing they do. I thought it was a sign of weakness. Let that be a lesson to any other God-Emperor on the rise: Never, never trust them. If they want to talk, don't listen. Don't. Just shoot."
He's drifting. I try to get him back on track, and keep him from ranting.
With a sigh, he continues. "He telejumps aboard, and starts making demands. He acts as if they're reasonable. Give up, surrender. Let go of my colonies. I tell him no. I tell him to stick his treaties in his florp hole," [it turns out humans don't have a florp hole] "and that I'll crush every human bug I see...."
"And then HE laughs. He seemed almost GLAD.
"The next thing I know, he's telejumped back to his own ship, and comes on the main panel. He says I have... I have one last chance...
"If I tell my squadrons 'run away' he'll do nothing.
"I order him shot down... th-that's when it happen..."
Another attack of sobbing, That's what happens when you make someone relive the greatest tactical mistake in the history of the galaxy. "'One for each', was the last thing the human commander said, cutting off as starships dropped out of the sky. Great, massive starships, bigger than any I-I'd ever seen. In the years since I destroyed the human planet, they spent it building starships. Except... except that wasn't their planet. It was a tiny little thing, a moon. Billions of lightyears away from their homeworld.

>>16313855
>>16313838
>>16313822
This is like an anti-HFY. Humanity literally did nothing of import in it.
Nice read, though.
Unless I'm jumping the gun and there's more.

>>16313882
"Massive shells tore through our hulls, ripping the ship apart. It was nothing like the partical weapons we'd seen used by every other species. They were so slow they tore through the force shields, but we couldn't outmaneuver them...
"I don't even know... I lost everything. The attack crippled me. My fleet, my... my body... The humans ground everything I had to dust and glass, sprinkled out in the vast emptiness of space... I lost my tarlon. I can't function properly without a prosthetic rendo. I-I have night terrors... I... please, I-I need more alcohol... the Vermon is the only thing th...that helps me forget..."
I bite my bottom mandible. This story is getting far too graphic, and I've already edited out parts to make it suitable for steaming on the holocom. I press on, though, asking the last thing that happened.
"I... I gave the order... t-to run away. The empire died soon after. All throughout the ships, in the wreckages were the slugs. Each one... each one had some strange, alien writing on it..."
The Drosi historians later studied the writing, comparing it to human history. I take out a list, and show it to him. He recoils in horror, "Get it away!"
Just as I suspected. A list of the human casualties of the Marcosan colony attack. It matches up with the names of the ten million shells recovered from the wreckage of the former God-Emperor's fleet.
One for each. The humans do enjoy their retribution...

>>16313891
But there's still more that our readers need to know. I ask him what happened afterwards. A very good history lesson to those not yet in their first molt.
"Th-they did the unthinkable... They crushed me, they destroyed everything I held, toppled my statues..."
He needs another Vermon to get through this. The story is nearly done, so I oblige. It isn't long before he's well lubricated enough to indulge me.
"Those crazy bastards... they rebuilt. They turned my planets to glass and sand and then landed on them, everyone expecting a clean up crew, coming to murder everyone, but they... they rebuilt. They made schools... houses... th-they're crazy...
"The whole species... they want to be heroes. They'd love for another evil emperor to fight. They long for it. I think they... they hope for it!"

>>16313855

The Admiral said “Who?”

What the Drac commander said next would’ve caused a major diplomatic incident had he remembered to revert to the more complex translation protocols. He thought the Admiral must be an idiot, a coward, or both. Eventually the diplomats were called out, and we were asked why the human race had largely forgotten the sacrifice of Drake McDougal.

Humans, we explained, sacrifice themselves all the time.

We trotted out every news clip from the space-wide Nets from the last twelve years. Some freighter cook that fell on a grenade during a pirate raid on Outreach. A ship engineer who locked himself into the reactor room and kept containment until the crew evacuated. Firefighter who died shielding a child from falling debris with his body, during an earthquake. Stuff like that.

The Dracs were utterly stunned. Their diplomats wandered out of the conference room in a daze. We’d just told them that the rarest, most selfless and honorable of acts – acts that incurred generations-long blood-debts and moved entire fleets – was so routine for our species that they were bumped off the news by latest celebrity scandal.

Everything changed for humanity after that. And it was all thanks to a single tug pilot who taught the galaxy what truly defines Man.

>>16313876

"Jerry, where would you be without me?"

"... back home."

>>16313907
More.

>>16313698
So he tells me. Back in the good old days, in the '10s or teens or whatever of the Hierophantic Age, he and my dad were do-gooders - or opportunists, or grave robbers, or hired thugs, depending on what they felt like, really. Anyway, they're in this big ass city some ways up north called Stracket or whatever, named for some king or prince or queen, I think he did get a little delirious here. Most of it was lucid though. Anyway!

He says, "Erik, your father, two of our friends and me had caught word of this shit that had been haunting this small ass chapel on the bad side of town, so none of the authorities actually gave a fuck about taking it down. I don't know what got into your father, but it became absolutely necessary that we stop this." At this point, Mackie seems to smile a little bit, I think I see a tear, or maybe that's just my knowledge of how the story ends influencing my memory, whatever, I ain't a psychomage.

Anyhow, he says, they got to the chapel without a hitch, just a single guard stopped them because of Mackie being a "fucking Mud race". My dad apparently almost lost his shit over that, but one of their other friends had managed to calm him down before it esca...got worse. "Yeah, that guardsmen was a prick, I was with three Esailan folks and everything." Oh, my uncle Mackie was a Mudrolon, by the way, kinda sucked for him living here. Anyway, they find the chapel, and they find it totally abandoned, kinda run-down even. Usually the poorer sides of cities are really into the whole "religion thing" as Mackie would put it, so the oh-so-decrepit state of their church was a little worrisome.
>continued, sorry, making it up as I go essentially

>>16313929

If thread is still here tomorrow, I'll be happy to. It's 5AM here, woe is me.

>>16313822
That was an awesome read. Manly tears after reading it. Thanks for that, man d_^_^

>>16313937
So, naturally, my dad wants to go inside a place he's heard is haunted. My uncle gets a little more lucid at this point. I remember the way his eyes were, it'll stay with me to the day I die, he said, "Son, we saw hell in there." I believe him. Mackie ain't never lied to me. He tells me, "Erik...we went in there, and we couldn't find a soul. No one's in this big, old fashioned church. I still remember being more concerned with what I was going to eat that day. I don't think I ended up eating." He then goes on to elaborate all the little details that began to creep them out more and more steadily: the holy symbols were all shattered, a hole in the floor, small fires burning in the odd place here and there. Finally they all decided to check downstairs, see how they can fix any possible hauntings as well as find out if there is one.
So, my dad's friends, being the geniuses they apparently were, break down every door they come to. Until one, where they find a strange sign on the door. Mackie can't properly describe it to me, but I imagine it's recognizable. Anyway, with a brief argument between Mackie and my dad's friends, who Mackie still won't name, Mackie breaks open the door with this holy whatsits he got from some holy someone or other for doing some great and wonderful something. And inside is a statue, surrounded by burnt husks that look like a priest, a few church-goers and a guardsmen. They could only tell what they -may- have been because their clothing seemed completely untouched. Apparently this is when shit goes really, really bad.

The statue is an Ang'jei Revenant. Have you ever heard of these fuckers? Well, neither had my uncle or my dad's friends. My dad's friends got killed by it the second they got too close, and it was apparently just "stretching". My uncle charges the thing, pissed as all hell, and just start wailing on it with his hammer o'wackin'.

>FIELD FUCK ME, CONTINUED

>>16313889
It was one nobody saving a bunch of Dracs in their 'quaint' little ship that twelve years later helped win the war against the Vandals.
I think it's awesome.

I love the idea of one species having so much impact on another without even knowing it.
And here's the kicker, which is even more amazing :D >>16313907
>The Dracs were utterly stunned. Their diplomats wandered out of the conference room in a daze. We’d just told them that the rarest, most selfless and honorable of acts – acts that incurred generations-long blood-debts and moved entire fleets – was so routine for our species that they were bumped off the news by latest celebrity scandal.

Oh God, I'm actually almost on the verge of tears this is so great.

This whole thread is amazing.

I went outside to take a fucking piss, and I ended up looking at the stars just laughing and crying and hearing Goddamned Carl Sagan in my head.

Hm, something a little non-traditional...

"It's because of their tongues, you know...

"I guess I should explain, huh? They're not really all that different; pretty much any advanced sophont is going to have a highly-evolved organ for language. But they've got that shared-orifice bauplan... let me tell you about how they reproduce sometime! Anyway, their speech organ is also used for consuming food. Damn thing is covered in neurons, more than their manipulators. And the things are always eating! Two, three times a cycle, there's just no room to properly glut themselves.

"So here they are, tiny little mouth, having to spend something like a tenth of their lives ramming food into it, just to not die. Is it any wonder they thought eating was really important?

"Oh, they do, though! It's a communal time and even a form of worship. They eat a wafer and believe it transubstantiates into the flesh of their god-thing. No, he wasn't just pulling my flipper, I looked it up on the InfoThing! Crazy but true.

Humanity FUCK YEAH: The Game

You are soldiers. Your mission is to destroy every other life from the universe to minimize the threat of potential invasion.

>>16314032
"So for some of these guys, eating isn't just worship, but art! It's not enough to spend all that time actually eating, they spend even more time to change the sensory expression they receive when they do it. Not just processing it to remove parasites, either... they apply heat and flame to it, soak it in liquids, add lipids, vegetable matter and animal meat, even fungus! I know, right?"

"It's so important that they have humans whose occupation is to prepare their food. And not just one! He uses different words for it, even, it has to be something they had across cultures even in their pre-industrial age.

"He didn't believe me when I told him we had no such 'chef' anywhere on our planet. I asked him why, our processed krill-flesh was safe to eat, easy to store, and provided adequate nutrition. He asked to see my portion... no, you shell-head, of course he didn't eat it! But he did put it to his muzzle and inhale... and he asked me if I would let him prepare a portion for me."

>>16313957
The thing doesn't even seem to notice, it just...opens, or something, according to my Uncle's eloquent description. And he says this is when he saw hell. The Ang'jei Revenant's chest opens and the flesh begins to...ash, and flake into the chest. I don't get it either, man. But, about Ang'jei Revenants...apparently you can't kill them. Can't 'banish' them either, or whatever. Can only lock'em in a whole and hope no one opens the door. My uncle supposes this is what the people in this room were doing, or trying to do anyway, luring the thing in with the promise of their flesh in order to hopefully lock it away for good. Who the fuck thought of these guys? An asshole, that's who. Anyways.

My uncle gets stunned or something by his vision of hell, and my father throws him out of the room. My uncle says he can't remember much, that he went a little cuckoo for awhile. What he does remember, though. He remembers my father losing an arm to the hell-chest's ash, he remembers seeing my father stab into its infernal heart with his blessed spear, and he remembers that the two of them are now stuck like that, both still as statues when he wakes up. My father's spear in its chest, the thing became still. It stopped moving, and my uncle thought it dead. And then my uncle tells me something that makes me think less of him, despite the fact I can't blame him for it. He closed the door and locked it.

Then he ran, "for a fortnight maybe." He can obviously tell at this point that I feel ashamed of him, and for the obvious fact that it's the first time I've ever felt something negative towards him. He tells me, "I found out later that you can't kill Ang'jei Revenants...I also found out that...," he stops here for a second, choked up. "The only way to make them go back to sleep is to sate their hunger. And your father knew. And he didn't stop for a second. He just did it. I will never be as good a man as your father. Few ever will. But I can try."
>Continued, fuck

>>16312607
I love this one the best so far. It's so much better than what I was trying to do.
I love the idea that the Humanity of the future will be, more or less, an idealization of that almost uniquely American value.
We will destroy everything that you hold dear, we will fight you in the fields and in the trenches. We will burn you and defeat you.

And then give you a chocolate bar and build you schools on the cleared out rubble of your gunmaking plants.

>>16313977
And here I thought I was the only one that had to go outside to piss.

Some animal crawl in between your walls and die?

>>16314063
And then he presses something into my hand and says, "Erik... I never could find the courage to go back." I look down, and in my hand is a Tremaren Shard. The holy whatsits he had been talking about this ENTIRE time was one of the most prized artifacts in the world. I look back to my uncle, and I can tell he's gone.

Don't look at me like that, this was his deathbed. So, Mr. Adventurer, what I have in mind to hire you for and for me, is me and you are going to go save my father's soul from hell, because no good deed should be punished, because you and me, Mr. Adventurer, you and me are humans, and ain't no fucking demons gonna tell me my dad don't deserve a happy afterlife.

>>16314089
Oh, right.

>done

>>16314080
No, I was just too lazy to walk to the bathroom.
>>16314056
Nope.jpg
Your mission is to save the Goddamned galaxy, because you're a human, fuck yeah.

>>16314061
>>16314032
This is awesome.

This whole thread is awesome.
I want to buy everyone in it a beer, and I don't even drink beer.

There was a hfy I haven't seen in a long time. It was from the perspective of an alien civ that had found itself to be alone in the universe until they discovered remains of human civilization, thousands of millions of years old and bring back a probe to study, and then it activates. Anyone have that one handy?

>>16314061
"Of course I assented! My pride as an ethnographer demanded no less. To participate in an art event of another culture! Of course, I had no idea what he proposed to do, but krill-patty is krill-patty. I mean, that's the point, is it not?

"He showed me differently. I don't know all of the things he did to it. He sampled it with a spectrometer, and he snuffled at it with his muzzle, and he spent an hour going over the Standard Tox Report, for which I was grateful... at least he was being careful not to kill me! And he also spent a little while looking at a technical article about the neurological function of the Cetian consumption organ.

"Then he took the patty-stuff, and soaked it in boiling brine, and added... stuff? Some stuff to it, I don't even know what it was, just some flakes from a jar from his rack. And then he pulled it out, and slapped it on a plate and subjected it to direct heating! And then... I don't even know, I asked him to explain, but the translator didn't work, he lapsed into technical jargon.

"He put it into a portion-bowl, poured a thick fluid onto it, and handed it to me. I looked at it with doubt, not particularly hungry as I had eaten only four cycles prior, but somehow looking at it, I felt my appetite increase. And then I placed it in my consumption organ...

"There are no words to describe the feeling. No, there are, but not in Cetian! We will need to learn the human words for it. It was like making love, or the warm embrace of a pod-mate, or the blood thundering in your head after you have dived deeply and surfaced all at once.

"No! I'm not crazy! It was all of these things and more. And I can prove it to you! Because, gentlemen, he is here. I have brought him here and he will show you his art! He will teach us his art. And when we return to the Home Ocean, as 'chefs' in our own right, we will gain fame undying. Yes! Over such a small thing as food, even!"

>>16314110
>Nope.jpg

Well, yeah. Guess I just concentrated a bit too much on 'how'.

>>16309898
Why are the police being referred to as 5-0?

>>16314148
"Hawaii 5-0"

>>16314148
It's an american thing that dates back decades. There was a show once called Hawaii 5-0 about police in Hawaii. It carried over into slang. The 5-0 part of the title referred to Hawaii being the 50th state. Slang can be stupid like that though.

>>16314148
It's an ancient reference that has been adapted as such: Wherever you live, you can say "The X 5-0" (pronouncing 0 as the letter O) with X being the city you're in, and people in America will understand that you're talking about the police.

If there's one thing that I've learned about Humans in all of my many Sheddings its that there is no race more greedy than Humans. They eat as much as they can without thought of preservation, they steal whatever isn't bolted down, and they would sell their own brood for a pittance.

For example, I was an Ambassador to the Humans when the Kyrill declared war on them. Their Emperor mistook one of their moons in a barely colonized system for their homeworld and blew the damn thing up. That isn't important. What's important was the utter nonchalance that the Humans handled it with. Of all things they were discussing how much it would cost them in order to mount a counter-attack and how it would bite into the quarterly profits!

In the end they decided that one fleet armed with a Mas-Accellerating Photon Cannon was enough. They shot asteroids at Kyrill planets until their planets were just slightly bigger asteroids.

After it all I heard one of them murmur "Rocks aren't free, citizen."

Fuckin' Humans.

>>16313698
>>16313937
>>16313957
>>16314063
Not even good enough to elicit a comment? Fuck me.
>>16314089

>>16314249
It's about a single human. The 'we're humans FUCK YEAH' is obviously tacked on.
The writing is fine, it just doesn't fit the thread.

>>16314287
I suppose it was a mistake to make it about a small group of people. The going to save his dad from hell thing was actually what I intended though, I kinda threw in the fight at random.

>>16314070
>that almost uniquely American value

>>16311081
This is an inspiration.

>>16314070
>almost uniquely american value
>quoting churchill

>>16314322
>>16314307

Shh, let's not dissolve such a promising thread into a shit-storm. PLEASE. PLEASE. I want this to still be promising tomorrow when I wake up.

>>16314333
But it is the American way!

Wait.... wasn't the humanity fuck yeah phase of /tg/ the biggest form of cancer /tg/ could come up with?

>>16314356
Seems a pretty awesome cancer.

>>16314356
Depends who you are.

For the people who support it, it's an attempt to and respect humanity such a fashion that you cannot help but feel proud to be a part of your own species, proud to be human.
For the people who hate it, HFY is nothing more than space racism and trying to circlejerk and make our dicks feel by pretending we're awesome and could totally kick those space gooks' butts.

>>16314356
Only because of the sheer weight of "Humans kill everything in their way and high-five each other while doing it"-style stories they produced. This thread actually has some good writing and good themes going on, not lame fail Black Library SPHESS MEHREEN fapfic with the 40k ripped out.

>>16314356

Uhm, no? Humanity Fuck Yeah is pretty fucking cool when it's done right. Most of these stories were done right.

You one of those, "Humanity is a disease beafhrrbrgr!" kinda guys? If so, go post about it on /soc/ or something.

>>16314385
No, it's just that HFY usually dissolves into humans being treated like the master race ubermensch kicks the butts of other species that pretty much think the exact same way.

It's nothing but white pride hidden beneath a sci-fi guise.

>>16314385
>>16314380
>>16314375
>>16314365
Ok then, i don't visit /tg/ very often but from what i have heard it was so bad people had to leave for months at a time before it settled down.

>this isn't humanity wank - there's another part.
Humans.
They have done amazing things. Awe inspiring. They are the largest empire, the most widespread species, with the biggest ships mounting the biggest guns. They have a diplomat on every planet – an army for every solar system. There are nineteen human soldiers for every one Croxx citizen. That includes female and juvenile Croxx. The Croxx is the second most numerous race in the Confederacy. Nobody would attack them – it is suicide, plain and simple. They hold all the advantages.
And their science is unparalleled. Humans are immortal, and all who would befriend them are made immortal also. With human medicine and human machinery, there are people who have lived since before the human space-age, almost eleven thousand years ago.
Backed by their industry, they are unmatched. Entire solar systems converted to factories. Space stations the size of planets churning out an endless supply of goods, fed by the tireless labour of a trillion trillions of workers.
For all intents and purposes, humans have won. They make everything. They own everything. They could crush everything.

>>16314503
But when you look at a human planet, you can’t help but wonder if they lost as well. In their desperation to win every war, no matter the cost, thousands of scarred and uninhabitable battlefields are left while entire planets are given over to cemeteries for the honoured fallen.
Their science is a life-giver, but a life-take as well. Ethics? Not likely. Compensation for unexpected side-effects? Non-existent. Every human granted immortality sits on a throne of a thousand people that died screaming, for SCIENCE!
Their economy is the strongest, their power plants the biggest and the cities the most populous, but in their commonality they lack originality. Everything must be efficient. Every building is the same four walls with the same plate-glass windows overlooking an endless parade of the same four walls and the same plate glass windows looking right back at you. Or maybe you live on the edge of a factory district, where the artificial forest of smokestacks belches acidic gasses into the atmosphere, every night and every day, and a trillion trillions of workers are turned into mere components for the mighty machine.
Humans have their victory. They crushed us, whether by force of arms, through science or through economy. So successful, were they, that they even crushed themselves.

>>16314506
punctuation clarification
>that died screaming, for SCIENCE!

As in, they died screaming, for the cause of SCIENCE!
They did not die screaming "FOR SCIENCE!"

>>16314506
>>16314503
And you thin you are in a position to judge this far-future humanity through your early 21st century eyes?

Humanity, if it is anything it is arrogant.

>>16314503
>>16314506
>HUMANITY: FUCK YEAH thread
>posts HUMANITY: FUCK NO
Why.

>>16314545

DONT YOU 404 ON ME

bump

>this thread, this fucking thread
Guys, I... fucking saved it.

I never understood how making shit up about a fictional future human society can make someone feel good.

>>16314354
Its word uniquely I have a problem with.

Also bump.

>>16315256
People assume of others what they know of themselves.
In their heart, they would try, they would fight which is why they believe that others would too. You wouldn't, which is why you find it trite.

That was easy. Next!

>>16315275
Since you assume I wouldn't, does that mean you wouldn't either ? Or do you just base your expectations on reality, like I do ?
Anyway, the biggest problem with thes HFY fapfics is that people assume humanity is the only one group that tries and does at its level. "So let's say we're the best : see how we're the best ? Fuck yeah !" doesn't do it for me.

>>16315334
Would you prefer real stories? Problem with that is that there are moments in history of absolutely balls-to-the-wall badassery that would make you orgasm testosterone.

But instead of revelling in inter-human conflict, we take those stories and transpose them against a fictional, alien enemy that we can comfortably imagine worthy of being absolutely curbstomped. Most of the stories you read here are based on human encounters with other humans, our behaviour and activities in previous wars.

>>16315419
I would prefer the real stories, no doubt.

Making up "an ennemy worthy of being curbstomped" does not paint us to our advantage.

>>16315275
It's not that at all. Most HFY falls flat because it puts humanity in a galaxy of dull, stupid weaklings who are nonetheless apparently more advanced than us. It's just shit.

>>16315419
Human against human at least imagines some supposition of equality (in those badass feats, inb4 someone posts tales of genocide on unsuspecting natives). If the aliens ever appeared threatening or anything other than completely retarded these stories might actually be good - but that would stop the win condition being 'Be Human' so it'll never happen.

>>16313709
Tigers? In Africa?

>>16315450
I agree, in some stories, the aliens can be strawmen, but they're not worse than your average cliched badguy in a movie or a novel. I think that speaks more to the quality of the stories (I thought they were fine and even good), rather than an inherent flaw in the concept.

the entire purpose of HFY is to provide a contrast to the trope that humans (in games, at least) is usually portrayed as the plain, vanilla race as opposed to the powerful aliens, elves, vampires, cthulhu, etc. To quote suptg:

>"Why should they be the "average" race? The diplomats? The boring ones? Humans are violent, irrational, and quite frighteningly powerful, within their own niches."

If you don't like it, go read another thread. Nobody is forcing you to read this.

>>16315518
yes...must have escaped from a zoo or something.

>>16315555
If you don't like our posts, don't read them.

Your take on it implies that the humanity this these threads are about is explicitly a fiction, so why the fuck yeah
? a gimmicky, non-standard race is worth another.

Archive this shit.

>>16315256
i can't understand how writing fiction about one's favourite fantasy/sci fi setting (or even better creating a setting yourself) can make anyone feel good.

Seriously HFY haters, What's this shit? only elves,na'vi and FUCKING KENDERS deserve wankfests? quality of the entryes goes up and down but the concept of HFY is strong.

This thread here is CHAMPAIGN GOLDMINE.

i'll contribute.

"Humans, humans are the parasites of this galaxy, i tell you. Everywhere you go you'll be sure to find at least a little conclave: in the wise republic of Vega they're segregated in theyr own blocks of the gargantuan cityes of the industrial worlds, for you can say everything you want about the Vega, but you have to admit these lizards are smart; they know a danger when they see one.
Here, instead, in the rest of the galaxy, the little shit come and go as they please, colonize a world, do mercenary work, are involved on all levels of organized and disorganized crime... some actually manage to reach richness and success in the boarder galactic society, but most eventually get back in their worlds on the fringe of the galaxy, living in what i assume is horrible misery since they are overcrowded by populations on the hundred of billions each."
continues

>>16315934
"...And yet they survive, every attempt to make them leave an area just makes the angryer, every attempt to limit their freedom is circumvented just as it's enforced... They're not the smartest, they're not the strongest, their ships are a shambling mess and their governments are the butt of the galaxy's jokes. And yet they're everywhere, ever more impoirtant, ever richer, ever more powerfull. They're parassites, survivors that fight like corned swamp-crabs and forced outraugeously superior opponents to a standstill and a peace treaty multiple times,almost impervious to mental and social stress and physical discomfort, they'll go to an airless moon, build a shitty dome-colony and like it there SO MUCH that after years of work it'll become an important commercial outpost. If only our race had this kind of strenght! we might be able to cruch an hundred of them each in an earthbeat, but in the end they're going to be the ones that'll win the Game to rule this galaxy!"

-Academician-Prophet Hjiromalaud of Ynneam, Personal conversation with friends, about 500 years before the founding of the Human Egemony-

>>contempt nfinite
captcha is scary sometimes.

>only elves,na'vi and FUCKING KENDERS
>on /tg/
>i wonder what building material this man you are arguing against is

I wanna see pics of the story of T.rollface
specifically humans tentacleraping aliens

>>16315969
they occasionally get wankfests, not on /tg/ due to this boards perfectly reasonable memetic-hate of them, but they do. But Heavens forbid humanity to watch itself and think "fuck yeah!" it's istant space-racism.
And that's extremelly funny beacouse guys, guys you know these aliens and fantasy races? we created them with our immagination to talk about ourselves in relation to them. They exist in the ideosphere beacouse we're the only tool using sapient specie here on earth and we need "another" to whom to compare ourselves.
If only Neandertals hadn't gone extinct, now we could be having an "HumanityES fuck yeah!" thread, after millennia of attempted mutual genocide... sounds like a cool setting actually.

>>16312767
I asked people to never read that again... :(

Here's some penance fiction.

This thread has been pure gold. Thanks for all the good reads!

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.

>>16315767
Sometimes the merit of fiction is not solely on the racial lines it draws! Mindblowing, I know.

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?

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.

Entry Twelve: Addendum
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.

>>16315555

Yes, but the way it goes about it is utterly retarded. It just goes on and on about humans being inviancble shits that can kill everything everywhere, just because. Even though the other race might have every single advantage, a human can murder 50 of them without a scratch. That's the shit we hate.

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.

Entry Sixteen
I suppose the entry before this must seem quite hysterical. It was not the numbers alone which disturbed me, and the others of the delegation. The human ambassador told me once that “necessity is the mother of invention.” These people need a means of controlling their population so badly that the first thing some of us did when we returned to privacy was propose that they be given a working FTL drive and the coordinates of a world they could inhabit and we could not. Of course the Ambassador rejected that foolishness. I approve. What unnerved me so deeply was that the humans seem to be capable of surviving so much that we could not. I do not, of course, speak of solar radiation. A little extra stellar radiation could be compensated. These, however, are a warlike people. That was my impression when first we met, and my opinion has not wavered. Yet, they coexist in tight groups in most of their population centers, their colonies were made of a mix of people that their nature states they could not tolerate, and their culture overcomes fractious divides so fast…we nearly kill them off, and then, not sixty days after the event, those who continue to demand that we suffer retribution are labeled – OPENLY! – by their leaders as deluded. If these people had developed FTL drives on their own, we would have met them on the edges of our own territory, I am sure. We would have met as friends. But we would have met as equals, when we are currently not. I should not be so disturbed by that thought. Yet I am.

Entry Seventeen
Two hundred seventy days gone by. The human ambassador has become more and more reluctant to divulge information about his own people to us, even as he shows us around his homeworld and pours more and more data about his species into our computers, for our analysts to devour. He answers every question we ask him, yet he divulges less and less in the way of specifics. Oddly enough, he actually seems far more relaxed in our presence than he was when we met. He showed up in a completely different set of clothing than the type he usually wears today, lacking the odd cloth around his neck. I wonder why?

Entry Eighteen
We returned to Earth today, and I am far more impressed this time than I let myself be last time. The human ambassador this time took us to what seems to be a site of great importance to his people: a building in one of their largest cities called the UN Headquarters. The building, I mean, not the city. We spoke to a panel of two hundred human ambassadors, each representing a human nation or extra-planetary colony. We answered questions, and had our images captured by their media, through a very thick-looking defensive device. When I asked why we were being defended, the human ambassador’s aide told me that it was for our own protection from those humans who did not appreciate our presence here as much as they should. I was touched by this, though apparently this is not at all unusual. We spoke to many of these diplomats, and I came away with the feeling that many had wanted to ask far more questions than they had been able to, out of a sense of propriety. Our own Ambassador told me that he thought it was to prevent any sort of insult, but I was not sure. Some of the human ambassadors seemed outright angry at our presence, and several were apparently restrained from outburst only by their peers’ angry gestures. I think it has something to do with the nearly groveling request the human chief ambassador gave to us on the very first day: not to even decrypt, let alone translate, a single one of the millions of messages sent to our ship, directly or otherwise, that did not bear his signature.

>>16316070
>That’s troubling: national leaders in a spacefaring species? That can only mean delays in the future.

holy shit, its like it makes sense

Entry Nineteen
Three hundred solar days have passed since the humans replied to our communications. We hold meetings on their planet as often as we do in space now. I am pleased by this, in all honestly. There is a strange appeal to these people that was simply not there when we first met. One particularly unguarded conversation with a human diplomatic aide produced an interesting result. The young woman said that she and many others were raised on fiction involving humanity playing the defender against unexplained or meaningless alien invasion, or playing the victim of some horrible, incomprehensible force of destruction, and the thought that life beyond their own system would be friendly and share the virtue of self-sacrifice was a vast relief. I had never considered this. Most species in this galaxy, we find, are very open with us immediately, or at least after a very brief period of distrust. These people did not trust us beyond discussion until we had offered our lives to save their planet, yet it seemed that we had achieved more in that act of proposed sacrifice than we had realized. These humans do, however, place too much emphasis on propriety for the sake of propriety. I do hope this woman does not come to reprimand because of our entirely unofficial exchange. The ambassador of the humans has certainly been making more and more of an effort to control what we see and hear of these people the more time we spend with them.

Entry Twenty
I understand fully now why the human ambassador was trying to restrict our communications. The ship’s crew, not a part of our diplomatic efforts, have been covertly compiling and translating vast amounts of the messages directed to our ship, without our approval. We have been exposed to their indirect communications, of course – we discovered them through the presence of their first radio transmissions, after all – and we have tapped their system-wide information networks, but the unauthorized communications directed to us, specifically, have been politely ignored and untranslated, thanks almost entirely to the human ambassador’s fervent pleas. The crew of the ship, however, have found that some of these signals contain messages of such hate and vitriol, such murderous rage and terrorized accusations, that had I not spent over three hundred local days immersing myself in their culture, I could have mistaken it for a declaration of war.
The human ambassador has much to answer for.

Entry Twenty one
The human ambassador was confronted over the messages we have received today. I asked him to meet us aboard the ship, not our own Ambassador, such as to put him at ease. He met us without his various aides and diplomats, with nobody but him, his second, the Ambassador, the ship’s captain, and me present. We tried a tactic that I suggested myself, placing transcripts of the communications before him with no comment. He picked them up, curious, and riffed through them, displaying a chemical reaction that drained much of the blood from his face. His second could stand to look at the communiqués no more than he. He looked through a few pages before seemingly getting the gist, dropping them on the table and looking at us blankly. Our Ambassador asked him what he had to say on behalf of the people who sent the messages, and he replied only after a few seconds of staring at the table. “I wish they did not exist.”
Imagine the room: the three of us, sitting across from two human diplomats who looked so nervous they could have been taken for gravely ill. Not one of us even saying a word. I do not know how long we sat like that. Finally, the Ambassador asked the obvious, just to ensure no meaning was lost. “The people, or the messages?”
“The people,” the ambassador replied sadly. “People so afraid of what they’re unfamiliar with that they hate it. It’s an instinct we should have shed by now.”

Entry Twenty two
The human ambassador seemed disarmed. Even resigned. Why should he not be? He had been caught in a lie of omission. The ship’s Captain spoke next. “Some of these people are threatening violence against the diplomats under my protection. Why should I permit that?”
The human ambassador’s second looked rather sullen at the word ‘permit,’ but did nothing. The human ambassador acted as if he had not heard. “Humans are a tribal people by nature, and we did not evolve as the pinnacle predator. So, we treat cultures we have not experienced, and potential threats we have not faced before, with great skepticism. Why do you think we suddenly allowed you to visit Earth after the incident with the asteroid? You showed a virtue we share: willingness to sacrifice. It’s easier to relate to someone who acts like you.”
“Then why did the hateful messages not cease entirely?” I asked.
The human ambassador shook his head. “Because, sir, the human race is a fractious one. We do not think with one mind, or share one opinion. Why do you think we still have the United Nations around? The more humans there are in a room, the more inevitable the disagreements are.” He actually smiled. “It’s about the only thing that makes normal human diplomacy bearable: the educated mind likes nothing more than a disagreement.”
“But these messages are not invitations to a debate,” I pressed. “Some are open messages of hate.”
“And many humans are stupid,” the human ambassador replied with disgust. “Products of intolerant upbringing, or ideology.”
“Suppress them then,” the Captain said with equal disgust.
“Never,” the human ambassador said with sudden vigor. “All humans of any importance agree on this: everybody has a right to be wrong. Anyway,” he said with somewhat less passion, “nothing is more attractive to the dispossessed than an officially sanctioned bad idea.”

We came hoping for respite. Our world was long past, a ghost in the radiation, a whimper of a sun consumed by a gravitational singularity not a few dozen generations ago - such a small time, which we could pass into the dark. A few generations before, we would have died, a few after, we would have solved the conundrum by battling the pull of gravity itself. No, we lost our home in the youth of your species, first stepping out into the wider universe with our heads high, and heritage proud.

That was then. Before we lost our home.

We wandered, a collection of ships, begged, borrowed, and stolen. We wandered the wider expanse looking for worlds that we could claim, but every one we found (and we sought many) had prior claim, or if not, were stolen from us by those with more clout than we, a fledgeling looking for a home.

When we settled into the domain of the Iteeurini, they chased us away, and we had to turn to darker means that our pride would not allow us, but our survival demanded. We stole from worlds that had little to guard with, but much to take - always enough that we could go on for a ways and continue out journey to find a home.

We made an error at times. SOme ships were lost, others were damaged. Our numbers, even despite our best efforts to grow, continued to shrink and fall - from two million, to two hundred thousand, to a simple two - twenty thousand on a handful of small, cramped ships.

It was hell, those days. But we did what we could. We had little left, our technology was obsolete, our might was laughable, and we knew our generations were a few moltings shy.

When we encountered a newcomer, fresh beyond the rim of their own birth-sun, and into the dark between stars, heading for a world they hoped would have welcomed them.

Entry Twenty three
Eleven Lunar cycles, just over three hundred local days, have passed since I arrived. The humans have given up pressing for FTL drive technology completely now, seeing that it will get them nowhere. We have addressed the humans directly, without a buffer of diplomats at the UN Headquarters, or through proxies like the ambassador. We spoke on their interplanetary data network, using their admittedly superior instantaneous broadcaster. The human ambassador has recovered quickly from the shock we gave him, much to his credit. It was, in fact, he who suggested that we address the people directly. He told us people would react best if we broke down our speech to the simplest possible elements, explaining why we made each decision. I thought that that would be interpreted as an insult, but he assured me that if there was one thing that humans resented in unison, it was having people talk as if everybody in the audience understood exactly what was going on. So we told them what the ambassador had told them already: that we were representatives of a large confederacy of species who agreed to mutual defense in the case of extra-galactic invasion (constantly invoked), refusal of FTL drive technology to those who did not already have it (blessedly a rare concern), and integrating new species into the galactic community (humanity was one of less than a dozen). The people of Earth were then permitted to ask questions of us directly, screened by a human diplomatic team on Earth and sent up to us. They ranged from the banal (what’s your homeworld called in English?) to the probing (from what stems your desire to keep us from FTL?) to the disturbing (do your people ever invade others?). I wonder what use it could do, but the human ambassador seemed to think it was a success.

Entry Twenty four
Only a few days left in our Earth diplomatic exchange. The ambassador of the humans seems to have taken ill, somehow, he has been more and more uncomfortable in his dealings with us, in the physical sense. At the advice of his cohort, we have taken to keeping all of our meetings on Earth, so that he does not have to abide by the discomforts of the quick, but rough transit from the surface to the ship. Here he seems more familiar, if not more comfortable. He has explained to me the reason for his sudden change of topic all those days ago, after the asteroid incident. He said that he had wanted to know how our people treated its criminals, not in punishment for their crimes, but in our leniency to the excused. If someone commits a crime, for instance, but saves another’s life, do we let him go, or punish him fully, or punish him less? We told him then, that generally it depended on the severity of the crime, for some crimes can not be uncommitted. He explained that he had relaxed upon hearing that, because it was a value we shared, though not all of the nearly two hundred nations on Earth, let alone the six colonies, had justice in common.

Entry Twenty five
The ambassador worsens now, his health deteriorating. Our meetings last only a few hours, with the rest of our time spent pouring over the larger and larger amounts of information his staff have been releasing to us. Information about their militaries, mostly, knowledge regarding their capability to adapt to warfare in space. Our talk of extra-galactic threats, it seems, has startled several of the species’ military leaders, and they wanted to know how much they would have to change if they agreed to be part of our confederation. We took one look at their military history and realized that they would have to retool their entire military from the ground up. Over nine tenths of the armed forces they had available to them were tied to the ground, with most if the remainder comprising obsolete oceanic navies and aerospace forces that couldn’t seriously threaten our escape pods, much less our juggernaut-tier defender ships. One thing that was actually somewhat surprising to me was the data regarding their nuclear weapons. One file stated that at one point, one of the now-dissolved nations of their people had possessed a nuclear weapon, called Bomb of Kings, that could have produced a yield over two hundred times that of the bomb that diverted that asteroid. A blast like that could have reduced our diplomatic cruiser to a fine, radioactive powder. Yet, it seemed that all such weapons were decommissioned and turned into power plant fuel decades before our first contact. What was surprising to me was that these very warlike people could have displayed the restraint needed to make weapons such as that and not use them. There were well in excess of twenty four thousand nuclear weapons in humanity’s history, detailed in two global arms races in two centuries. Yet only two had been used?

Entry Twenty six
Three hundred sixty days have passed. The human ambassador is dying. Neither their own medical technology, nor ours, even if offered, could save him. He is suffering from a massive, systematic organ failure that his staff has privately informed me to be symptomatic of heavy metal poisoning. I am in shock. How? Why? We have done no such thing to him. The hate-filled messages aimed at us from the surface have not changed in volume or content, either. So who has done this?

Entry Twenty seven
The human ambassador has contacted me privately from his deathbed. Not the Ambassador, not the Captain, me. He has told me privately that he knew he had been poisoned when he had taken us on one of our tours of the United Nations, when someone had slipped a poison in his drink. He hadn’t figured it out until his doctors had told him roughly what day it had occurred, and had no idea who, specifically, was responsible. He told me to contact the Ambassador and Captain on his behalf and tell them, and instruct them to tell nobody else. I asked him why I was to keep it secret, and he told me that he wanted us to make a decision. He then broke the connection before I could ask him what he meant. Needless to say, I am apprehensive. The man knows he’s been poisoned in the final days of the negotiations, so keeping it quiet when the culprit is unknown I can understand, but why would he distrust the rest of our crew and diplomats? Had he suspected us, he would never have told us.

Entry Twenty eight
The human ambassador is perhaps the boldest being I have ever encountered in all my centuries of life. Surely he can not have planned for every single outcome of this venture, surely he can not have predicted what we would do. Not now, after less than a year of knowing of our existence, after forty days of crippling illness. Surely he could not. And yet, here we are.

Now, on the final day of the conference, he announced – live to the whole species! – that he had less than a day to live, and that he knew that one of the diplomats on his trusted staff had poisoned him in the UN. He then cut the three of us into the transmission, streaming from the bridge of our ship. I can only thank goodness that we have been in front of live humans beyond the diplomatic corps so infrequently, else they would have seen our shock and horror at the sudden recording. The human ambassador then went on to state that he had told the aliens, had told us, that he knew that we were innocent, and that it was time for us to make a decision.

Entry Twenty nine
He said that if humanity was to become a trusted and valuable member of the galactic community, capable of upholding the responsibility of the confederacy’s laws and mutual defenses, that we had to do the same. We had, he said, the means of depopulating Earth right before us…the asteroid we had accidentally diverted towards Earth. He smirked through the drugs and pain, and said that trust was a “two-way street.” We needed to be able to trust humanity…but humanity needed to trust us. “And so, I leave it to you, my far-away friends,” he managed, “to render unto us the just desserts of this betrayal. I am dead, by the hand of one I trusted. You can inflict the punishment of the arbitrary, dropping an asteroid on our entire population, almost certainly killing the one responsible, and demonstrating what humanity has in excess…or you could not, and demonstrate what I think I see in you.”
He cut his channel.

Entry Thirty
There we sat, three aliens, before the entire human species. I couldn’t see them, but I could see their world. An entire planet, ten billion people…with three aliens controlling them all. Every single one of our communications channels, from radio to data stream to the instant-cast relay we were using to broadcast, was active, with unheard hails from across the Solar system.
Three aliens and a year of diplomacy to decide the fate of a species.
The Ambassador broke our frozen state of shock. Choosing his words carefully, he spoke to the instant—cast. “We have just seen the closest thing to a human leader killed by one of his own aides. This reflects rather poorly on your species ability to think ahead. You have had two periods in your history when you collected nuclear weapons…in case you MIGHT have had to use them. Half of your people live in untenable squalor, the other half travel the planets.”
He leaned forward, obviously dreading his next words. “I have read your history, steeped in blood. Your own ambassador admitted in shame that tens of thousands of communications, with which we have been bombarded since we arrived, represent a substantial portion of your population and their mindset: ignorant, fearful, theocratic. You actually have the nerve to make war on yourselves even as you petition for the ability to spread to other star systems, and join our defense against the enemy from beyond the galaxy.”
He sat back, looking drained. “Now, your ambassador, without even so much as warning us, forces to decide whether or not your people get to exist, or join the confederacy even if you do. It is not, to borrow a phrase, what I signed up for.”

Entry Thirty one
Then, he turned to me…and his thoughts must have echoed my own, and the Captains’. He looked back at the camera…and grinned. “Yet…the very person who just entrusted you to us clearly thought that you were worthy of us. He has spoken at length about the virtues we share…compassion for the family, sacrifice when needed, curiosity. He said that nothing we had done or said or shared could have achieved as much as our willingness to divert that asteroid did. He showed us the monuments to progress your people have made. Your people achieved powered flight less than three hundred years ago, yet you have colonized six bodies in your system, two terraformed from little more than rock and methane ice. You show a drive and an adaptability we have never seen before.
“After less than a year of meetings, when one year ago he did not know we existed, your ambassador decided that not only were you deserving of our trust…but we were deserving of yours. About your culture and mindset, I know only what I can learn in one year, and already, your ambassador chose to think that I knew enough to judge you favorably.”
The Ambassador stood, the camera tracking him. The Captain and I joined him. The Ambassador faced the instant-cast and spoke.

“He was right. Our greeting lasted a year, humanity. So, now, let me welcome you to the galaxy.”

Entry Thirty two
Life has become rather hectic of late. A new human ambassador has been chosen, and the UN is busily streamlining their voting bodies to make it easier to make decisions on behalf of the species, rather than opposing political ideologies. I understand that the process was eased by the discovery of the one responsible for the poisoning of our friend, the former ambassador. He died mere minutes after hearing our decision. I didn’t think I would be capable of getting so personally involved in an alien diplomatic affair, but I felt emotionally drained when the diplomat responsible for slipping the poison to the ambassador was caught.
Representatives from the other twenty eight members of the confederacy that have attained spaceflight have arrived to officially welcome humanity into the greater galaxy, but the UN Security Council was most direct in their demands that our Ambassador take point.
The negative backlash against the decision to leave the entire species’ fate up to the Ambassador was disheartening to behold; I understand that entire regions of the planet nearly rose in arms over the human ambassador’s choice. I am led to understand that his appointment had not been uncontested, as he was apparently very rich in his own right, and some did not think that he would represent humanity faithfully. I am glad he proved them wrong.
Our own Ambassador has been the subject of rather angry commentary from the human press of late, apparently those few moments wherein he looked like he might really drop the asteroid on the planet, and alongside the litany of complaints against humans including “theocratic,” were enough to convince some elements of humanity that the choice had been a loaded one. More than a few people in our own staff grumbled that we had been saddled with an unfair burden, now having the responsibility of leading a foreign race by example, and they are not wrong.

>I should not be so disturbed by that thought. Yet I am.

Entry Thirty three
Still, I can think of worse men to lead by example than one who has had centuries of experience in diplomatic patience, and made the correct choice given the opportunity to blunt such an apparently threatening species as humanity. As for myself, I have tabled the recommendation that we use one of our freighters to drag the largest asteroid we can to the orbit of Earth and have it be used to create another of their space platforms, and use that, a truly neutral ground, as the base of operations for future participation in the Confederacy. Certainly the easily preventable death of their previous ambassador helped to convince the new one of the idea’s merit.
The galaxy is a convoluted place, and the diplomatic tactics embraced by the humans since we met them – poisoning, ultimatums, et cetera, whether these are the norm or not – will not be greeted with anything even remotely approaching enthusiasm by the rest of the galaxy…but I am confident that, in time, the rest of the confederacy shall see as we do: that humanity has a place among equals in the defense and enrichment of the spacefaring people.
End Journal.

Terok bellowed at the top of his lungs as he smashed trough the improvised barricade, his massive body like a wrecking ball before a cottage, it never stood a chance. Rounds bounced off his armour, made to resist high powered plasma rifles and railswords, these primitive slugs did not worry him.
Still, there was always a chance of getting hit in the eye, but only his third row of eyes had insufficient backing by his skull to protect the brain. Odds were good.
Bits of human flew everywhere as he worked his way trough the trench with his railswords, like whacking small monkeys with a big stick, it hardly seemed fair, but no matter... this war would soon be won.
He was just about to get out of the ditch and storm the second trench when something exploded.

Terok lay there in a smoke filled, dark crater, bleeding out slowly as he watched the sky. different hues of blue... like his own blood... poetic in some way, possibly. Torek never was much for poetry. He struggled to open the locket hanging around his neck, he could only feel one of his arms and it didnt feel good. One last look at his family... a shadow fell across him, Torek looked up and there was one of the small monkey creatures, with one of those slug throwers that suddenly didnt seem so harmless anymore. The human looked down at his locket and made a strange exhaling sound. He then fired a single shot right next to my head before taking a primitive medkit off his belt and threw it at me.
"yeah another dead. move on." it barked at the other monkeys.
I got no idea what those words mean, but I will never forget them

>>16316130
Now go sit in the corner.

>>16316203
I believe their ships were unexpecting of meeting someone - for they had only a few small lasers across their bow, and their means of communication were laughable - laser and short burst electromagnetism. But they sent word and they greeted us, their faces flat and their bodies hairless, in a variety of colors that felt strange to the drab blues and yellows and whites of our feathers.

It was tense, terse. They were intelligent, but their drive was nuclear - a nuclear blast riding out into the wild yonder, with mathematical precision that was juvenile, but it was with a hope to reach the stars that was naive and yet hopeful. They knew they could make it.

We managed to reply, matching pace with them. We felt pity, and saw in them ourselves, as we had become wrecks of once young and glorious and ever ready species.

We sent them the universal greeting.
3.141 5926 5358
They replied.
2 3 5 7 11 13 17 19 23 29

In the months we spent, half the ships forming an escort of sorts for them, we shared. Mathematics lead to music, to images, to artistry, to comparing, to language. In the weeks, we traded language - their gutteral tongue hard on light ears, but our sweet tongue seemed to entrance, and they welcomed us, save, they had no means to port. They had never expected to meet someone else in the void. They had never expected another life form out there, to greet them.

And when they struck home - their destination, I wept, when it exploded, as it struck the atmosphere wrong, and the hundred thousand people, the Terrans, died that day. I wept, for I had seen the death of those I might have called brother, and sang a dirge for them.

A dirge that was repeated to the stars, as we turned, and struck out for their home - to relay that they had died, and that we mourned their passing, the passing of those who did not judge us for our loss, but welcomed us for our being ourselves.

So is /tg/ still butthurt over a few elf fanatics?

>>16316270

well written Someone Else

cudos

>>16316270
Thank you for this story.

>>16316306
Their world was brown with hints of green, and a small wash of blue. It was a world that was in the thrall of over population, and abuse before awareness. In that world, hovering above, I broke the silence, and announced it with a song - transmitted to them in manners they might understand. I sang for them a dirge, and expressed sorrow for the loss of their transport, their colony ship fallen to error. I sang for them as I might sing for a nestmate who had embraced eternity far too soon, and I made offer of my ship, that we might transport those who wished to go, to claim a home of their own.

And in an outpouring of grief, we sent the designs of our drives, the knowledge of building ships - so that others would not know, and that we might be remembered for something good, and not the dark deeds that had plagued us in our need to survive.

It was a fortune we sent, and we did not expect anything in return. They returned a transmission, asking if we would be willing to take a new group of colonists to stake claim on the world. And we agreed, if only in memory. They sent a thousand - armed, and trained, with enough to make do with starting a new world. A thousand of their civilians went with us, and we set them to the plains near water, and waited. It felt good to be on the surface of a world for a while. Felt very good, to see a young species starting with pre-fab, with hope. And I want to take the world and live here too. And I don't want to leave, even as other ships of my kind, the Avnari, make the place to see, to hope, that we might be invited. For a bunch of thieves, bandits, we don't want to rob someone poorer than us.

Then we find out this world has been claimed already, by the Ensidia.

>>16316270
FUCK YEAH

>>16316270

I don't know if this will be /tg/'s style, but had been wanting to tell it to someone, so here goes...sorry for typos or whatever, I'm still a little shook up by all of this.

Six months ago, my grandmother was dying. My grandfather spent most of his time crying outside her hospital room, where she couldn't hear him. They're both in their mid eighties, but I don't think my grandfather has ever really accepted his mortality. I have actually known him to wonder aloud whether death was as inevitable as everyone made it out to be.

Me, I spent most of my time in there with her, watching her face, that awful, wrinkled, sallow, dying face.

One day she took a turn for the worst. A doctor told us, that is, her and me, not even looking her in the face, that she had 48 hours to live. I almost dropped him where he stood, but I realized something...I saw one corner of his mouth twitching as he spoke. You see, I watch faces a lot, it's just a thing with me. Something about that stiffness of stance, that force of speech, told me that he was burning on the inside, that he wasn't really dull or dead to suffering and death, but he was still the one who had to tell people things like this.

Not sure how much space I have, so continued....

>>16316270
I'll admit. I'm very impressed. Bravo.

>>16316270
I know this one has been posted before but it's still great. Is there a screencap of this masterpiece somewhere?

first-contact quest, anyone?

>>16316494
So, with 48 hours to live, we had meetings and gatherings and people crying and trying to smile, and my grandmother just looking up at them with a little frozen smile and sad eyes. My grandfather wasn't crying at all, just sort of looking at her from across the room...like he was waiting, almost like a predator. His eyes had this strange glow, a light I could only describe as feral was playing through his eyes. I know now that he in his own mind, whatever else he was doing, he was playing dice with all of his demons, he was...changing. Evolving, you might say. At the time, i thought he was just cracking. But then, what did it matter? I couldn't do anything about it. What good is sanity when faced with crushing loneliness anyways?

Finally, everyone left. They were exhausted, hungry, cried out, and they were warm and alive and needed to tend to their own needs. Everyone but him and me. You see, I'm not so warm, and while I'm polite and kind, I'm not what you would call a 'nice' person. I've been stoic and cool from early childhood. Everything we do seems so pedestrian, somehow. Besides, I was watching her die, and I was watching him...plan?

bumping with aliens

>>16316494
do go on

>>16316546
Finally, he walked over slowly and knelt down beside her...it wasn't like they were ignoring me, or not appreciating me, but I'd always watched them when I was younger...I watch everyone, I sit and watch things most people would never witness. I never had much desire to do things...just to watch. Cool...like I'm already halfway to the grave. Anyways, they spoke in almost whispers, but I could still hear them...she was sobbing, talking about their early life together, wishing they could go back, be young and free, do it all again.

That's when he said it. It was the tone of voice, more than the actual words, a tone I've never heard anyone use before or since. He said:

"We can."

It's hard to describe what I was feeling, but it was something like fear. Mutual suicide? I wasn't afraid of that, that was simple, routine, mundane almost. I knew my grandfather was going to do something different. Something somehow more violent.

>>16316523
>>16316500
>>16316471
>>16316420
>>16316336
>>16316352
Thank you.

>>16316574
Now, I know a good deal about my grandparents' early days together. They loved to tell the stories...not just her, he did too. Told me about how he watched and worshipped her day after day, for two years, while her father wouldn't even listen to his requests to court her. He finally asked her out when she turned 18, regardless. He asked her out with a really well-written sonnet.

He was oldschool even in those times.

>>16316651
He walked out of the room. Five minutes later he came back, took her hand, recited the sonnet, asked her if she would go see a movie with him Thursday, even though her father disapproved.

History looping.
She said yes.
Like she always had.
Like she always would.

>>16316660
You see, the doctors hadn't known what exactly was wrong with her, but in general she was just falling apart with age. Multiple organ failure.

The next day she was stable. I got there at the opening of visiting hours and went in to see her. She spent the day telling me about what she thought she might wear.
On Thursday she was walking on a crutch. He held her oxygen for her like it was a purse. It was almost too heavy for him to lift, but he handled it with the grace of a true gentleman. The theatre turned out to be empty except for them, and of course me...the watcher, the guardian. It was one of those older, smaller ones, still playing old movies, sort of a novelty place he knew about it. At first I thought it would be the first movie they went to see, but it wasn't. It was South Pacific, her favorite movie, in living technicolor.

He was shaking things up. Using his knowledge of her as an advantage this second time around.

They weren't just reliving faded memories, they were coming full circle, and really doing it all again.

>>16316273

I didn't say shit about your story. Yours is good, it wasn't the horseshit I was talking about.

>>16316683
He insisted that she move in with us instead of back to him. Her son, my father, became the one enforcing her curfew, as the one legally responsible. She loved it when my grandfather kept her out late and she had to explain herself. Re-living everything. Her face was changing.

>>16316733
It's been a year and a half since then, and the two young lovers got married this spring...just like they did before.

They moved in together. A new house, sort of like their first house together, but bigger, better, more modern.

The other day I was there for tea with my grandmother. I hadn't had much of a chance to study her face up close since the hospital...she spent most of her time in her room when she was living with us, that is, when she wasn't out with her beau.

They're gone. Those little wrinkles around the big ones, right between her brows. They're not decreased, or just lighter. Gone, and I'm pretty sure it's not just the lotion my grandfather got her.

Should I be happy? Overjoyed? Should I stand and applaud, or should I run like hell and never look back?

Now, for the first time, I want to do things. Build companies. Pay taxes. Save lives. Fight. Fight people, fight forces, fight death. I want to find a soul-mate and rip her clean out of this casual postmodern dystopia into a world of our own, an immortal world trapped between times, a culture all its own.

As for my grandparents, they'll still be dead in 20 years at the most. Right? Of course they will. Everyone dies. We're mortal. Non-negotiable. But sometimes, when I lie awake at night, I'm afraid. Afraid that my grandparents will claw their way out of their tomb as soon as we bury them. Afraid of what they are, what we are. What are we?

One thing humans are good at is discovery.
Someday, we are going to discover it all.
Discover what we are, and what we can do.
And on that day, may whatever gods there be have mercy on the souls of anything and everything that crosses our race.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go ask 'her' out.
I wrote her a sonnet. I think mine's better than my grandfather's.

And I don't plan on dying any time soon, either.

Fin.

>>16316737
bravo, that's one of the best things I've read on the internet.

>>16316793
Why thank you.
Just wanted to tell someone...
Anyways I have to go to work.
Hoping thread will still be here tonight.

My apologies I cannot continue. I have much to learn still. Thank you for letting me write.

>>16316823
It's a good start. Save it and set it aside, come back to it later.

>>16316823
Too bad, I always liked the Avnari tales.

>>16316835

Same here. Keeping this thread bumped for the sake of mankind. Go on, brave warriors. I may dump something that has only very seldomly been dumped.

I don't know about this stuff. Some of it seems kinda campy.

I always thought stories about how humanity spreads across the stars but our civilization is always mired in strife and war are more realistic and interesting.

Basically I prefer it if the humans are exploitative bastards that pervert everything they touch and fight endlessly among themselves for their own interest. A setting where everything humanity builds decays into filth, violence, and depravity then as to burned done and rebuilt, only to decay again. Yet through it all humanity endures.

That seems to be a better expression of the humanity than "space bros" or a single united empire.

>>16317180
So "Humanity, Sidereal Virus"?

>>16314322
I was wondering if someone would notice that :3
But yes, it is in this day and age a thing that America is noted for more than any other country, despite the fact that it's been done throughout history (the Romans, off the top of my head, would smash in your nuts and then welcome you with open arms into the Roman Empire). Nazis never would have helped the Polish rebuild.
Unique not in that it happens, but how it happens.


Also, this thread has been amazing, glad it's still up.

>>16317180
I like the ones where aliens see us and think we're stupid and fighty or weak or frail, and then we fight alongside them against a larger force, and they see that we have big hearts. Or they go to war with us and then we help them rebuild and welcome them into Humanity.
Or they just figure out we have big rocks.

MIT SICHERHEIT, IHR PFEIFFEN

>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/16309898/

Does a Berd have to help Anonymous keep his shit together now?

You faggots, vote up this thread or go die in a fire. This was the first straight HFY thread in almost two years that did not devolve into troll upon troll upon troll and constant restating of why and why not HFY.

This... simply was. And it still is. Beautiful.

Also, I will commence a dump of epic proportions now. Not as big as the one by Someone Else Before, but still something.

Due to technological progress humanity managed to make spaceflight a lot less harsh on the body and a lot more comfortable. The common man could finally fly in a spaceship just as an incredibly fit, very smart and highly trained individual could.

And so, on the third march of 2082, Johannes Müller, crewman of third rank, said the first the thing an alien ever heard: “Hallo? Ist da jemand? Ist das scheiß-display wieder im Arsch oder was?“ Which roughly translates to: „Hello? Is someone there? Is the shit-display in the ass again or what?”

Or course, the fourlegged and vaguely lobsterlike creatures perceived these words appeared more as weird vibrations than as coherent words. And to the man, who suddenly found himself in front of three strange creatures, which totally looked like the lobster he had for lunch this morning, their weird clicking of their sharp arms sounded rather frightening.

This is why the first picture of a human in every piece of media created by aliens is always a shortgrown and rather frightened man in a flightsuit with a spanner in one hand a beercan in the other.

Word of first contact was send back to the loading dock and then back to earth. It was later found out that a small group of Daal merchants flew along the planet on their travel to the capitol world of the X. They found a rather odd shape of metallic materials that moved towards the planet and another strange shape of metallic items. This was most odd for the Daal, who use organic spaceships and can live in the vacuum of space without problems, so they used a transportation system to, well, teleport themselves into that strange hunk of metal.

This was the first contact with the race of humanity. And this is also the reason why every movie in alien medias that shows humans starts with a rather frightened man extending his shaky arm and offering three big spacelobsters a can of beer.

None of the two groups knew what to do and thusly just looked at one another in silence. Johannes took a sip of his beer to calm his nerves and the Daal communicated with their captain by using clicking noises.

One moment after this the Captain of the “DHM Rheingold” send an order over the ships intercom. This order was prepared for first contact and consisted of a nearby monitor screen showing various sorts of pictures from planet earth. It also played different sorts of noises, music and speech. The Daal recognised little and acted confused at first. But one thing caught their interest: A series of clicking noises that formed the speech of an African person and a short movie sequence of a big lobster opening and closing its claw.

Upon realizing that the three creatures reacted to clicking noises Johannes drew a small item from one of his pouches. It was a small piece of synthplas in the shape of a small frog. It had two small straight pieces that were held shut by a spring. It was a gift from his brothers five year old son and was supposed to hold pieces of paper and a clipboard together. Opening the thing and letting it shut back together quickly created a clicking noise.

The Daal realized that this weird short thing (Daal are typically up to 4 meters tall) infront of them was trying to speak to them. And Johannes Captain and assorted Crew realized that these things could understand something as long as it consisted of clicking.

It took the Daal and the human crewmen roughly two hours to teach one another a mixture of the morse alphabet (in clicking noises) and the Daal scissor language. The rough translation of the Daal’s first recorded message goes as following:

“What is item in hand? Answer: A can of beer. What is can? Answer: A round metal. What is beer? Answer: Water in can. Can holds water? Answer: Yes.”

And that is the reason why humanities first contact was a peaceful affair. This is also the reason why NagDaal, the Captain of the ship that made first contact, later became filthy rich by selling “Kaahns uof Bia” which were metallic items that held various fluids. To the Daal this was a strange and new way of transporting water since they used metal very rarely and relied on their shells.

These “Kaahn”s revolutionized fluid transportation in the Daal Community.

The message of first contact was received with great delight. Humanity was not alone out there! The Daal started diplomatic relations with humanity. They used the Müller-Xhinyou-Stanley clicking language which was later patented. It turned out there was a quite big galaxy out there, waiting for humanity to come out and play.

This the reason why all human children learn to speak to aliens by using a small plastic paperclip with a frog smily on it.

There were various other races of the most diverse kinds, the very well known and mercantile X, the lobsterlike, organic and also mercantile Daal community, the Zuiergkn (there is no real translation into human words for their name but this is the closest we get) and many others.

The Daal suggested to keep humanities existence a secret for at least a few years, to allow humanity to build up a warfleet just in case. There were several alien races with bad reputations of being rather aggressive. And the Daal, who smelled a very big business opportunity in humanity, didn’t want their newest discovery to be robbed and genocided by the more warlike species out there.

In 2085 humanity had created a huge fleet of ships for transport, colonization and discovery. All of them were armed with the most modern weaponry humanity could build, buy from the Daal, or combine and reverse engineer. The Daal also supplied humanity with ships and hulls from some of the more warlike races. Of course, man did its best to disassemble, study, and then destroy them in test firings. The result was that humanity had fewer ships and planets than these warmongers but their quality was roughly even.

Of course, humanity was careful. Never look a gifted horse in the mouth, and so on. Except for that humanity DID look into its mouth and looked for traps, hidden meanings, dangers, spying equipment and then like.

The strangest thing to humanity was that the Daal didn’t want any resources, manpower or services for their merchandise. They wanted ideas. It later turned out that the Daal were not very good at innovating and creating new things that didn’t revolve around shells, clicks or shells that click.

Humanity didn’t fully trust their new “friends” and was suspicious. They didn’t openly spy on their new trading partners since they had no idea of their capabilities and didn’t want to provoke anyone. It later turned out that their mistrust was unfounded as the Daal had no real concept of espionage or deceit. They were good merchants, sure, but that was basically it.

They had the connections, the technology, the maps and the currency. Humanity had the ideas for new inventions. It was an odd partnership. A few humans were invited to go to the home planet of the Daal and see if they could find any new ideas for merchandise.

Humanity found plenty.

While the first few days were rather unproductive, the following months would prove to be quite lucrative. At first the Daal would dump a few shells on the island the humans had their camp on and say “What now?” and a human would say: “Yo dawg we heard you like shells, so we put some shells in your water so you can swim while you sit!.

Of course, the flood of new inventions which brought the Daal a much higher trade revenue did not go unnoticed. The first things were rather Daal-like and thusly inconspicuous: Shells that hold water, Shells that hold this, Shells that hold that, Shells that, holy shit, hold other SHELLS inside them, such things.

The Manguls had a sinking suspicion that the newest wave of Daal products (Shells that hold metal, shells that act as a chair, twinlinked shells) were too strange for the Daal to think up. They were right, but they had no idea how far reaching the answer for their question would be.

They put a few spying probes and drones onto a passing Daal ship that was about to go back to the Daal homeworld. They believed that the ship would buy wares from smugglers. The ship flew to humanities home system to take a few more specialists (basically telemarketers and product designers) to their home system.

The Manguls send one of their scout ships to follow the Daal, stealthily of course. The ship arrived in the system, which was considered to be one of the most remote and hard to reach border systems ever, and snooped around.

It was a weird system. At least weird for Daal standards. The ships were made of metal, the planets had huge spanning metal constructs (cities) and so on.

But Humanity was prepared for just this occasion! They had a brilliant and cunning plan to coax any would be smuggler, thief or explorer into thinking this was just another Daal system: A message reached the Mangul vessel.

“On Screen.” The Captain saw a greedy looking Daal in some kind of cheap clothing. He had the most disgusting sneer and smirk ever.

“Welcome to Shellton where we offer the newest Shells for your ship! Need a shell made of traditional shells? Seek no further! Need a shell made of several smaller shells? We’re here for you!”

The Mangul captain sighed. Several dozen Daal ships made a beeline to his ship.

“And I even got a special offer today, just for you! If you buy three shells today I’ll give you one of the Q3 series for FREE to sweeten the deal!”

Several ships were flying in circles around him.

“And on top of that you’re in luck today! Right now I got clearance to offer you the newest shmooziest high tech ever! Behold! The METAL Shell!”

One of the ships broke formation and almost rammed his ship. It was the shittiest piece of shit he ever saw. It was a hunk of metal. It had the rough shape of a Daal mini-merchant class vessel. It was nearly useless in battle, slow, had a big cargo space and was thusly a prime target for pirates AND it was made of stinking metal.

“METAL Shells! Just for you! This is the very first one that left our production lines! We actually wanted to keep this place secret until we’ve got more in stock but hey! The early bird catches the worm right?”

The slower ships reached him as well. All of them flew in circles around him and opened up gunports and started blazing various kinds of visual commercials.
“Get us out of here. Now.” He said slowly.

“But Captain, our task is not complete!” The officer replied. Not fulfilling orders was bad in their navy. Letting a superior not fulfill his orders was even worse.

“GET US OUT OF HERE! NOW! I WON’T GIVE THOSE GREEDY FUCKS ANOTHER WAY TO SUCK MONEY FROM OUR EMPIRE!” The Captain yelled in return.

The ship turned and started charging its engines.

“And on top of that, here’s a little secret! If you buy this beauty today I’ll even tell you the number of a friend’s friend who can make your head Shmallukken a full inch longer! Guaranteed! Fully natural! That’ll impress the navy personal at your court won’t it? Wink wink!”

The ship fled the system. Somewhere another commanding officer and his XO sat in a bunker.

“Canceling red alert. Reordering drones to drone bay five. They left. I had my doubts if it would work.” The XO spoke.

“Oh come on! It worked just fine! Trust me, if you make your enemy think that you’re just another greedy asshole trying to scam him outta his money he won’t even bother shooting you.“

“Oh.” The Xo replied with a surprised face.

“By the way, what is a Shmallukken? The Daal reports on that race don’t mention anything like that.” The captian asked with a furred brow.

“The fuck do I know? I just used a word for penis my three year old son used once.”

“Oh.” It was the Captians turn to be surprised.

“In 2100 a human female stood infront of a Daal shell roughly the size of a football and said: “Why don’t we just put a bomb in it and send it somewhere?”

The Daal appeared shocked. Why destroy such a beautiful shell. The woman just handed the shell to her coworker who put a hand grenade into it. Then he put it on a wooden desk in a nice living room. Then all three of them moved behind a wall of steeloglass and the woman pressed a big shiny red button. The shell blew up real nice, together with most of the puppets they set up.”

“Click click?” The Daal asked. He whore a black suit around its body, with the neck where its head was peeking out of the shell (Daal heads are within the body and not away from it like with humans) and its scissors poking out of the suits arms.

He basically looked like a walking fourlegged lobster in a nice suit with a tie. His human colleague wore the same outfit and held a small suitcase in his arms. They stood infront of a door.

“Yeah they did that to see how IED’s would work against aliens. Bombs who look like harmless shells. You get a present out of your mailbox and open it. You say: “Oh how nice! A shell!” and then BOOM your head is gone!” The man exclaimed smiling while spreading his arms. Sometimes the humans scared AnakDaal.

“And you know what? It totally worked against the Arkananians when they thought it was a cool idea to try and swallow our homeworld from the x-93 cluster. Direct jump, just a few hundred thousands kiloms out of our system. Well, there’s a reason we waited a couple more years until we revealed ourselves to the galaxy. We fucked up them so hard even their mothers orgasmed when they heard their kids got grounded hard.

“Click click?” (What is “fucked”?)

“Oh yeah I keep forgetting that you don’t have that kind of reproduction. It’s a figure of speech. We didn’t kill ‘em or attack them. We didn’t have to. We send a quick message to the Galactic council and told them: “Hey, is it normal there’s so many angry ships coming at our homeplanet?” And they said: “No, not really. We handle this.” So they piss off an hour later and their whole system gets sanctioned like shit. Their leaders get sued for attempted genocide and their whole fleet disarmed. I mean, we’re just peaceful merchants and they got a nasty rep for swallowing young races. And the council just needed an excuse to finally get rid of them. Nowadays they can’t even leave their homeworld without a diplomatic escort watching over them. That’s what happens when you try to murder the new kid on the block who sells all kinds of shit to EVERYONE.”

Someone tell me that they are reading, I don't want to dump for nothing.

It was raining. AnakDaal liked the rain. It reminded him of home, of swimming in the ocean. He clicked the buzzer on the door again.

“So they get forced to go back into their home system. And then the Wercheg think they can just annex the other guys territory. Cause its basically no longer owned by anyone right? No way! The council says “Fuck you” and sends their best people to stop that shit before it starts. You know what is the only thing that gets a Wercheg clan warrior to piss his pants? That’s right! LAWYERS! I mean, we had an overabundance of them earth so they just went into alien places, learned the laws and started kicking ass in court. It’s scary really.

I mean, he smiles at you, but you KNOW he's gonna take your words, twist them around, and then shove them into your ass harder than a russian hammerthrowing woman with a barbed wire strap on."

“Click? Click click zirp!” AnakDaal asked.

“Lawyers are… guys who make sure the law doesn’t get fucked when you go to court. Someone breaks the law, you sue ‘em. And then that lawyer twists the law until you win. Simple, really. I mean, no, its not simple, it’s really complicated, but that’s what we’re good at. Not all of us, but some. And those few become Lawyers. But not just regular lawyers. Oh no, they become lawyers… IN SPACE!” His colleague extended his arms again and made that funny face once more. He liked doing that.

The door opened. They were finally let. It was a group of Akuntu, a race that had three legs and lived in houses. They build huge families (they literally build themselves, that’s how they reproduce) and live in huge houses. Everything was prepared. The human extended his hand and shook the Akuntu’s appendage.

>Someone tell me that they are reading, I don't want to dump for nothing.

“Hello there! Maximilian Groß is my name, this here is my charming Daal partner AnakDaal. We heard you were interested in our newest line of shells with gems?”

The Akuntu replied in its strange tongue. At least it was strange to AnakDaal. He had trouble understanding this vibrating speech the humans and Akuntu used. But he was learning quickly. He was nervous. It was his first actual selling visit. They were invited to enter. Max and the Akuntus exchanged gestures of greeting and sat down.

“I’m terribly sorry. My friend Anak here is somewhat new to this whole thing. He hasn’t met any Al-Akuntu until now and doesn’t know the customs so well. Anak please be so kind and toss me my briefcase. You see, Anak has had a most unfortunate run-in with an X a few przks ago. One of his legs was hurt.”

He got the hint. He’d forgotten to sit down. Breach of etiquette. Oh yes, insult the X. It was a most classical way to get an Akuntus sympathy. The two races didn’t like one another. They overlooked his little mistake.

Max started reaching around various shells with gemstones of every kind. Some of the shells were connected by strings and formed a so-called “necklace”. Appearantly the whole galaxy was crazy for this whole “jewellery” thing. Time went by quickly. They sold a good amount of various items to the people. AnakDaal was a bit confused that his partner wouldn’t offer the items right away but rather tell a bit about them, present them and then allow the people to pick them up, try them on and look at them at their pleasure. Another thing he found odd was that they talked so much. They talked about all sorts of things that weren’t related to the wares. And he just sat there and listened and smiled. Very odd.

They were done and left. The human exhaled a great amount of air.

“Click click sharpppp click?”

“Oh… It’s called taking a breath. Us humans sometimes do that when we did a lot of work. You did good in there. Let’s get a drink, I know a good bar around the spaceport.”

They walked to the spaceport which wasn’t far away. Max kept explaining all sorts of things to AnakDaal. He didn’t feel like the human was belittling him or making fun of him. He always talked like he wanted to tell him something he didn’t yet know without making him feel that knew nothing. He got the feeling that they were equal even though they were different.

Maybe that was why Humans were among the best Salesmen in the Galaxy.

They were in this place called a “bar”. Apparently that was a location where persons took in beverages of various kinds. It was the first time he saw one. Why would someone want to make this whole drinking water thing into something so big? He kept thinking about things when something made odd vibrations. It was a device in Max hands. He held it to his head and started speaking.

“Ja? Oh hallo. Nee...“ He talked into the device. The suitcase lay on the table infront of them. The waiter brought their waters and set them down. They were within in Kaaahns. He envied the Daal who thought up the idea of putting water into metal pieces. That man was rich as shells.

“No I tell you. There are no…” He extended the device to him. Anak leant forward and listened to the noises.

“You got BIG ALIEN TITTIES? I heard they got THREE TITS on your planet!”

He then took the device back to his own ear and started talking to him again. After a while he put it away again.

“A friend of mine named Joremo. From Brazil. He’s drunk. And when he’s drunk he talks about the only two things in his life he is successful at: Aliens, and women. Man I wish I had half as much luck with the girls as he has and… wait!”

Suddenly something changed. Anak knew not what it was. Oh. The briefcase was gone. And someone was walking towards the exit. Max face changed and he stood up. But before he did that Anak saw something that scared him.

He saw the eyes of a predator.

Everything happened rather quickly. He heard the two of them exchange words. Then the one man ran, and his colleague followed. Anak got up and went to the door. It was difficult since he had to four legs and was both taller and wider than the Akuntus in the room. It took him a small while to reach the door. He saw the both of them run down the road. He had a bad feeling and moved towards them. They disappeared behind a corner.

When he managed to reach the corner he could only look down. There was a small downhill slide towards one of the many long roads the Akuntu used. They had strange vehicles that used anti-grav technology. The Akuntu kept running as fast as his three legs would carry him and Max was far off behind him. He knew that his colleague was one head shorter than regular male humans. He also knew that he had shorter legs and arms than other humans. He wasn’t going to catch him…

The Akuntu ran straight over the road. Max was about to reach the other side of the street when the Akuntu was already climbing the fence. Several vehicles kept driving back and forth. He saw his human fellow look at the running alien and the vehicles.

Then he threw himself on the ground and started… moving forward. With all the vehicles racing away only two hands high above his head. And he kept going. Anak noticed a small bridge that was a bit far off. But safe. He moved over the bridge.

Many minutes passed when he saw the Akuntu run towards a building and turn a corner. Max was climbing the fence and following him. He reached the front of the building when his partner was at the corner. He was looking at the wall.

“Click chirp!” He exclaimed loudly.

“No chance? Fuck that!” He received as answer. He noticed the humans eyes move intently over the ground and the corner of the building. What was he looking at? Then he started running off again. Anak had no idea where his friend was when he reached the corner. Why did his friend look at the ground? There was nothing there!

He failed to see the holes in the ground and the scratch at the wall. A scratch their briefcase had made.

He moved forward and saw a lush forest in front of him. He knew that it was roughly the same sort of plant growing area that the humans had on their planet. He saw his friend before a few trees, just standing there with closed eyes. And then he ran onwards. Anak followed but soon found himself lost in the big green. Green and brown everywhere, and the sun wasn’t there to help because it was night. He had no idea how long he erred through the woods until he found the edge of the forest by pure luck.

Am reading.

He saw the Akuntu, at least 400 meters away, and Max, roughly 100. The akuntu had slowed down considerably and Max had done as well. The distance between them was growing smaller. The Akuntu kept looking behind himself again and again.

Max simply followed with a fast walk.

The distance was getting smaller.

Akuntu were good sprinters, as the galactic Olympics proved. Their three legs were made for fast movement. Anak had heard his colleague talk about animals from earth. Tigers, lions, gepards, all very fast and deadly hunters.

His friend looked very much like a hunter himself. He kept calmly walking after the Akuntu. Anak knew he had to there when they met. Disaster would happen without his interference. He kept walking straight towards his colleague. But the human didn’t walk in a straight line. One time he made slight curve to the right, another time he moved a bit the left and continued then. And another time he made a little jump. Strange.

Anak kept moving forward and found himself getting farther away from his mate. For some reason that short human was faster. The Akuntu moved onwards but it looked like he was about to stop. He climbed a soft hill and then lay still.

The human followed him unerringly, never stopping, always staring at its target. It was scary. Anak found himself gasping for air. His body was made for a mixture of swimming and short trips on land but not for this. His vision faded and some times he thought he would fall over like the Akuntu.

Then, suddenly, he was only about 20 meters away from the two. The akuntu lay on the ground, its very fast metabolism sucking in air at a rapid rate. And he saw his friend standing above the alien. Had disaster struck already?

“click…” he meekly managed to scrape his scissor.

His friend already had the briefcase. That meant the akuntu had dropped it to drop weight. Or to get his chaser off his trail. Max slowly knelt down beside the Alien. He was breathing intensively but showed no other signs of exhaustion.

“You think you can get away from me? After you stole that from me? HUH?” There was unmistakable anger in his voice. No, not just anger. There was something else. There was hatred.

“You think you can take away my JOB, my MONEY, and MY FUCKING LIFE AWAY FROM ME?” The Alien tried to move its head away.

“Who do you think gets sued when 56 thousand credits worth of jewels disappear? Who gets the blame? Who gets the FUCKING BILL IN THE FACE? Whose FUCKING insurance won’t pay? HUH? You can’t just steal from other you stupid little-“

>look at the filename


“So pretty-“ Max had a metallic device in his hand and pointing at the creatures head. His breathing was agitated.

“SILENCE! You don’t steal from others because its WRONG! Because it is BAD and because it can RUIN other people’s lives! You don’t want to see other people steal from YOU either!” His friend shouted so loud that Anak’s whole body vibrated.

“You don’t even know what stealing means, do you? They didn’t build that part of you yet, huh? Well here’s a tip: No one would miss you if you disappeared. Just like no one would miss me if I disappeared because you STOLE FROM ME!”

A loud clicking noise came when Max moved his left hand over the item and pulled something back. It snapped back forward. it was pointing at the aliens head.

The alien tried to shake its head.

And then Max started talking. He talked all the time. He explained him what stealing means and why it was bad. Anak wouldn’t have been able to hinder his friend from activating his device, whatever that thing was. And then Max put the thing back in his jacket and turned around, the suitcase in one hand.

“Click…” He managed to make.

His friend turned around. “Need a break? Fine.”

Anak couldn’t exactly remember when he woke up again. It was slowly dawning. The night was short on Akutu prime. A hole in the ground held something he had never seen before. It made odd noises and moved over the wood like… water.

“That’s fire.” The human commented. Anak was surprised. “You slept for five hours. I made the fire to keep you warm. The Akutu’s gone.”

Anak looked at his friend. The human seemed agitated all over a sudden.

“WHAT? You think I shot him? He’s just a goddamn child! Told him to run for it and never forget that stealing is wrong, no matter how. And that all actions you take have consequences. If you hurt someone he hurts you back. But I don’t kill goddamn kids.”

“Chirk?”

“This is a pistol, Anak. It fires bullets. But I only use it when there’s no other way to save my life.”

He had no idea what Bullets were. Or what a pistol was, or fire. Their civilizations were so different from ground up and yet so similar in some ways. It was strange. Max turned his hand around so that the metallic part showed downwards. Then he pulled the metal back again, like earlier. Then he let it snap back, pulled something thin out of his hand and put the “pistol” at somewhere else. A dull click noise came.

“When I was 20 I did my nine months of military service. Learned all sorts of things. How to make fire, survive a bit in the wilderness, shoot a gun and such. I already knew a lot from my dad, who was a career soldier and even was a drill instructor once. Hell, I even shot better than one of the fucking drill sergeants. Hahaha! He still owes me a beer, though.”

Anak had no idea what most of these things meant. Max held something thinner than his finger and shorter than the longest digit of his thumb in his fingers. It shimmered in the fire.

“This here is a bullet. The tip is metal. The orange stuff is the casing. At the end is the primer. You hit the primer hard and fast, and the powder in the casing gets set on fire. That is so much energy, and it can only move away to the front, that it pushes the metal bit forward. Right through the barrel and into whatever you wanna kill.”

“But ten thousand years ago we didn’t have nor need those bullets and guns. We had sticks and sharp rocks. We walked behind them animals and we walked them dead.

“Clicka? Click clack chirpz?”

“Well… it’s like this: Many animals wanted to kill us and eat us. So we killed them right back. Nature wanted to kill us, we killed it back. Fuck, some other guy tried to kill you, you killed him harder, and faster. The animals could run faster than us, but not for long. We can walk and march very long, but most can’t run for long times. So we took turns. Jens runs after the deer first, then Jochen, then James, and when James gets exhausted Alice takes over. Heh. Or we just run after the thing, and make it run into one of our guys who sits in a ditch with a spear and IMPALES that fucker right through the heart! And then we skin that animal and war its fur and eat its meat. We used its muscles to make strings for bows. That way we shot tiny spears farther and faster than we could throw big spears. And this bullet here, this is the natural conclusion of our development.

That is a smaller spear, that can fly farther and kill harder. And what we couldn’t kill, we walked dead or avoided it like the plague. Or made it our friend and servant like the wolves and dogs. We had to do that. Nature was a disgusting bitch who kept killing us for the fun of it. And the animals? All the same. We had to get smarter to survive. And we had to tame the fire, we had to tame the animals, and we had to tame nature, that cruel bitch. Wanna see how a bullet works? I tell you, its just fire.”

With that Max threw the thing into the fire. An incredibly loud bang happened and then one of the pieces of wood had a huge hole in it.

“Anyways, lets get back to the bar. I wonder if they got some Jack Daniels there. Goddamn I almost took a childs life because he almost took mine… Lets get drunk.
Let’s talk about earth and humans some other time okay? And trust me, you haven’t seen a FOURTH of the horror. There’s tons of people worse than me.”

>maxten in
Would you look at that.

He saw his friend in a way he’d never seem him before. He seemed… sad. A bit frightened. Remorseful. He moved his hand through his hair and exhaled deeply.

And with that they wandered back to the bar. It took them a while because Anak needed several breaks, but Max was never impatient or annoyed. He knew that everyone had strengths and weaknesses. Anak kept thinking about this strange and dangerous place called earth, where everything tried to kill and eat you and you had to kill it harder to not be killed yourself. He fell asleep with wild dreams and an intense hangover.

Max was right, they did sell Jack Daniels. And since they had no idea that is was not the same thing as beer it was cheap as hell.

>And that, my friends, is it.

Greetings from Germany, Anon. I hope you have a good day, for me the night time has come already. Stay classy and happy. Goodbye.

Not bad at all, though it feels like two stories merged into one, sort of.

>>16318047
Isn't mine, anyway. Some other Bernd wrote it. I just had to repost it because apparently no one else ever could be arsed to do so.

I hope someone will open up a follow-up thread to this one. So that the others out there who yet wanted to do some updates can get them out without trouble.

that was...

most excellent

for the emperor

/tg/ my faith in you has been restored.

>>16313907
Manly tears, motherfucker, manly tears.....

They cant be beaten. I remind myself of this obvious fact so that I dont dismiss it as some myth.
The humans cant be beaten. Not with all they have at their disposal. Not while they have their machines and heroes and gods and monsters.
Huddled behind a tree stump I saw one of their demi-gods in battle once. A huge and terrifying creature crarfted by their biomancy.
It isnt fair when I think about it. No other race can have their essence tampered with to such a degree and still remain, essentially the same. Manipulate the Genetic material of a slaan, an avarii, or anything else, and you get nothing at best. Play with the infernal DNA of a human and you get a bigger, smarter, superior human.
My company tried to use DNA from creatures originating on their planet to create weapons. The plan was..somewhat successful. We brought back the extinct beast the humans called dinosaurs to use against them. Monsters larger and more ferocious than could be found on any other deathworld.
I watched as a trio of our tyranosaurs charged towards a squad we had ambushed. They didnt retreat. A giant stepped from behind them towards our beast. Still only half the hight of our beast the giant of a man spoke loudly.
'I am Vulkan. I have killed larger beast than you.' With that he decapitated the first tyranosaur with the huge hammer he carried before dispatching the other two.
I remained frozen behind my hiding stump.
They cant be beat.

Got one for ya. Just going to post the link, though; I dumped it on /tg/ once before, and the character limit made me its bitch.

>http://baencd.thefifthimperium.com/13-TheBalticWarCD/TheBalticWarCD/The%20World%20Turned%20Upsid
e%20Down/0743498747__13.htm

Come back when you're done. I'll wait.

Looking back through the archives, it's easy to see when H:FY turned from feel-good and comic relief into tiresome Humans-Are-Nazis-In-Space happened: Avatar. Damn shame.

>>16313708
>>16313459

These men, they know why we revere Sagan as the God Emperor of Man.

>>16310208
I fucking write 'Chuck Norris' TWO GODDAMN DAYS AGO, and this shit happens?!

More people should read all this.

>>16323675
that's what you get for invoking one of the dying gods of the interwebs.

rolled 2 = 2

Thank you, /tg/, for this thread.
Fucking amazing.

>>16316391
The Ensidia were, are, not nice folk. Neither would I find them unjustifiably cruel - but simply, pragmatic, strong, and more than willing to take what they can, if there is nothing that can rightly stop them, they will take what they desire.

One could blame it on reptilian hearts and mindsets - others blame it on a dictaiton of 'strong shall survive'. I, I believe it is because they are smart and like to stop threats from rising up in the future. I cannot blame them for that.

But putting down drones and threatening forced removal does make one less happy to have them around. These Terrans were not too happy to hear it, but neither were they going to give in. They were young and foolish.

When the infantries landed and made known it was not idle threat, but a reality. It did not matter that there were no ships to take them back, and it did not matter that we, Avnari, offered to take these Terrans anywhere they wanted.

They would stand for what they had claimed. I admired that, even as I sat in the central building of their small township, over-looking fields set for harvest and work being set up from the nearby forests, and felt wistful for a chance to live on this small Eden. I admired the world and the youthful spirit, even as I knew blood would flow, and the wrath of a greater species would burn like the first moltings burned sensitive skin.

But I waited and watched, and drank tea. Why stress about impossibilities. I sat with the leadership of Terran ground forces, and offered what advice I could.

"Run."

>>16327413
They would have none of that. They set themselves to war with a certainty that they would die, but would mark this world as their own. Trenches were readied and buildings were erected to shield and and hide. Their arms were small, but effective - and using the primitive but effective design gave me a spark of hope.

The infantries landed from high, dropping at the outskirt to once again give warning of the threat facing them, and that they had once chance to lay down arms and leave the planet. This was replied with the pops and cracks of gunfire, of sending hard shavings into the massed armies, who fell back shocked, before replying in kind - with energy baths.

Blood flowed, the coppery red splashing before the wounds could cauterize, and the armored bodies floundering back from the painful impacts - it took three to five shots to take down each incoming soldier.

Then the traps went up - and the ground erupted in washes of flame and earth and stone - traps set and buried in the dark of the evening, that destroyed limbs.

It slowed the advance, but did not stop it. Steps were taken with more care - shots taken with slower precision, but for every one Ensidian that fell, two Terrans gave their lives.

And watching, I felt a sickly sadness cling to my breast and tighten my crop. These brave people, some I called friend, wanted only a world to call their own. I knew the feeling, and I made a decision that was suicidal, but I would not let another be forced from a home. I took up a gun - a small one, as we Avnari are hardly the biggest of creatures, and left the safety of the building, and called for any of my kind to join battle, if they felt they deserved the notice of ancestors and the song of a Dirge-Master.

>>16327510

And I sang of death, as my weapon became my instrument - over the vox I called upon the valor of those long past, and asked their guidance as I approached the line of death, and fired, again, again, again.

To my chagrin, I must admit, my arm ached from the recoil, but it did little to dampen my spirit. The battle lines were scorched, and the scent of death was copper and ozone. I strode into battle, no armor to shield me, and only my ribbons and ties as vestment, and my blue feathers singed as I opened up my soul to the warrior within, and struck again and again.

My brothers and sisters looked on me mad, and, I suppose I was. But madder were they when they struck from behind, into the unprotected flanks of lined soldiers. And as brilliant and powerful the technological aspect of the Ensidian Military might have been, there are few things that can survive being struck at their flanks by a surprise attack. Of my crew, of my brothers and sisters, there were only sixty, but sixty soldiers can change a war.

Sometimes.

I was wounded then, a blow taking my wing off of my back, and sending spiraling into shock. What was the memory of battle from rooms and rooftops and trenches becomes a blur of pain and haze of forgotten things. I did my ancestors proud, and I honored one of the tenants of the people - to defend the Nest.

I defended it.

>>16327550
What happened afterwards, I do not recall. The Terrans held fast - bolstered by the strength of their allies, and the surprise attack giving them the chance to put down their opponent until surrender was reached. Bolstered by 'The birds', the Terran populace repelled the invasion. When word came of an attack to commence of orbital bombardment, it is said they promised a retribution that would make the entire galaxy fear them. Bold words, I have heard them repeated.

The bombardments never came. They left, with the arrival of a trade ship, and the armed escort, who demanded to know why the Ensidians were so callous as to attack another colony without justification.

It made a bit of an impact, when the results of the battle were tallied - twenty Avnari dead, eight hundred human casualties, and four thousand Ensidian dead. Respectable, with smaller weapons, weaker capabilities, and being a newcomer on the scene of galactic politics.

I awoke from my shock and treatments three weeks later - to find a wing gone, and burns lingering on my feathered form. My bravery had inspired their competence, and they, in turn, had inspired my people to attack at an enemy of both of us.

But what reward could they give, to allies and friends? They knew not that we had no home - and that they, in truth, had nothing we could take that would help us. We set to leave this home, when they found out.

>>16327635

These Terrans had hope. They were still young and willing to try. Naive, but able to take the risk, they had fought instead of finding somewhere else. They met war with gusto and fervor and ignited a fire in an unknown ally, who risked everything.

I guess that is what they are amazing at. Making someone else find their limits, and push past it without looking back.

When I talked to one of the soldiers I have fought with, who asked of my home, and found that our world was less than dust, and barely remembered.

With so many of their colonists dead and injured, they would need help getting started. Supplies were good, but there was work to be done - too much work for so few people, and not enough time to do it.

Not enough. We, without enough time to truly matter, they without enough people. But one thing the world did have, was enough. Enough room, enough promise, enough friends to get everything ready for the next colony ship to arrive.

It had enough room for twenty thousand birds to flock, and make a new home. There was enough room, for two aliens to become close friends, and perhaps more, in time.

The world needed a name. We gave it, in honor of new friends, new home, new hope for both of us. A world called 'Amicus'.

>>16327663
(My apologies for taking so long to continue this. Thank you for your patience.)

>>16327413
>>16327510
>>16327550
>>16327635
>>16327663
Worth the wait.

>>16327676
phew, when I went to bed yesterday I was afraid I'd miss out on the ending. Well done man, well done!

>>16327676
Nice.

I save my Citizen Kane Clapping gif for onlt the best threads, threads that go above and beyond the call of duty.