#humans are amazing

[ixylle-d-from-the-stars]

Deathworlders everywhere but in Space

This is sitting in my brain because I haven't seen anyone else do this, but take a second to think about this: There are other deathworlders in space, terrifying ones, huge monster orc things. They are massive and nightmarish and impossibly strong. So thats why humans stand out. Thats how we survive. Human's are terrifying because we aren't built for one biome, one climate or even one planet. We aren't necessarily the strongest or fastest or scariest looking, but we're built to survive fucking everything. What if other deathworlder's are almost always only made to survive in one climate? (similar to some of the most deadly predators on earth currently) All the other deathworlders are terrifying, yes, but the second they step off their planet they're weak. Massive aliens of hulking muscle but their planet's gravity is a lot lower than the standard, so they barely meet the average strength bar whenever they go outside their gravity zone. Aliens that have venomous spikes all over their body and look gnarly as shit but their venom has practically no effect on 99% of discovered intergalactic species. Deathworlders whose planet is the nether from minecraft IRl, but they can't survive in any other temperature for any amount of time because their body just can't handle the cold and regulate their temperate (or, vice versa for tundra species). Aquatic species that are kraken-like nightmares, giant sirens and deadly squid-like beings. But they can't leave their home at all, because theres a very specific chemical makeup of their water that isn't currently found within their life-span distance travel. Deathworlders that genuinely can barely survive off planet and are frail compared to even the most docile prey species whenever they have to travel. Their called deathworlders because going to their planet is certain death, but if they leave they'll be meeting death just as quickly. And then along come humans, and everyones like, oh, another deathworlder, nothing to worry abou- wait. These guys dont seem to loose any of their natural strength off planet... and their fast and strong... and- AND THEY CAN SURVIVE IN PRACTICALLY ANY CLIMATE IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE??? HELLO? Oh and of course their predators. Of course most of their planet is completely uninhabitable for most of us. Mhm, yep. thats fair. Totally Basically, deathworlders are a thing, the more common 'terrifying alien monster' type, but their harmless because they can't survive like everyone else. They can't thrive like humans can. It scares the shit out of everyone for a wholeeeeee while, after all, no one ever expected a deathworlder that doesn't die.

[somerandomjewelleryonthefloor]

For the ‘Humans are *insert word* here/alien fans fanclub’, I have another small headcanon:

I feel like most aliens (from aliens that travel planets, to aliens that are the embodiment of a nightmare, to aliens that are small and fuzzy),

would absolutely love David Attenborough. I mean they probably found out about Earth’s animals and how they live and stuff from watching his documentaries, because one human on a crewship put it on to help them fall asleep.

David Attenborough would be adored by all the cosmos I think.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 11

ATTENTION, EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED. I REPEAT, EMERGENCY PROTOCOL INITIATED.

As it turns out, one of the machines in Sector 2 has suffered severe damage. Fortunately, it is not an extremely vital part of the ship, but the prospect of arriving on Fendaar unharmed and in short time is becoming more and more improbable.

As I am one of the highest ranking mechanics on the ship, I was occupied during most of the cycle with reversing the worst damage. 

As we mended the machinery, we discovered a far more urgent problem: The previously damaged outer hover engine has now come completely shut down, and as a consequence, the SIIR Noxos will steadily become slower, until we will be trapped in the middle of an hostile system with no prospects of receiving help, as we would still be far too far away to contact a ground station on any nearby planet with our communication systems.

There was one way to mend the hover engine into a barely working state, but it would require someone to approach from the outside, which would, in normal circumstances, already be extremely dangerous, and in a state like this, it was highly unlikely that the person performing the repair would come back alive. After a few moments of debate, we decided it would be best to request to speak with the Vitrichl and the rest of the crew to eludicate our situation.

I described the problem in as much detail as possible and informed the crew of our inevitable impending death, to put it shortly. 

"So, basically", the human spoke up. "If noone goes out there to fix the hover engine, we‘ll stop moving eventually and then we‘ll all die either of starvation or of running out of oxygen, or whatever you all breathe."

"Yes, if you desire to voice it in that fashion", I affirmed her statement. "Unfortunately, it is way too dangerous for any of us to go out there, as the survival chances are close to none", I eludicated further. "Possibly, we could still make it far enough to be within communication reach with a nearby planet, but that is also highly unlikely."

Quinn extended her hand upwards. 

"I‘ll do it."

[littleapocalypsekitten]

Love is Inevitable

Cross-posted to my original writeblr, Rusted Dreams Stories Posted here because I think more people see me here, but please consider giving my writeblr a follow / reblog from there. One of those "Humans are Space Orcs" "Humans are Weird" type of stories, only instead of admiring us for our physical-endurance abilities, an alien species admires our emotional resilience.

Love is Inevitable  In the ages since contact had been made with the Earth and the human species, the other rational races of the Pan-Galactic Alliance had their various reasons for either abhorring or admiring them. A great many of the peoples admired Humanity for their general physical endurance – the ability to recover quickly from wounds and to withstand conditions that would kill a great many beings.  However, the Mhrr’ah held them in awe for a very different kind of endurance.  First contact between the two species was a bit awkward because humans could not help but compare the Mhrr’ah to a certain kind of pet animal they kept.  “Kitty!”  - They resembled bipedal cats save for the small horns upon their heads, longer, boxier faces and notable biological differences such as reproduction through eggs.  In turn, the Mhrr’ah compared humans to the golb, a small, bald, purplish-colored animal they kept as friends, although they were arguably more pig-like or doggish. Their respective choice of pets, strangely, was what had started conversation which led to the Mhrr’ah thinking of humans as particularly tough.  The Mhrr’ah were rather appalled that humans kept companion animals that did not match their own lifespans.  They were even more confounded by the ability of human beings to pick up and keep working and living after the loss of kin.  The Mhrr’ah were highly emotional beings. As soon as they had grown, they tended to part ways with their parents, but stayed in touch with their clutch-mates.  They formed attachments with mates and friends of similar health-status and age (and they did live long, by the human reckoning) so as to maximize the likelihood of a life together.  Most forms of conflict on their planet were a distant memory of ancestral forms because of this peculiar type of empathy.  If one Mhrr’ah in a friend or family group died, the rest of their strong attachments was sure to follow.  It was almost unheard of for one to lose a life-mate and not to have their own body shut down in pure despair within months of the event.  Conversations with humans brought up widows, those who had lost brothers, best friends, parents and animal companions time and again.  Humans spoke to them of Stages of Grief and of the ways they’d sought out each other to support themselves through it.  They spoke of ghost stories and mythical lands of the dead where some hoped to be reunited someday with those they’d loved.  The Mhrr’ah, who did not understand how one could fall, but not the others in one’s chosen circle would bow their heads in salute to the resilient human explorers and tradesmen they’d met if they ever had a sad story.   And that is to say nothing of other tales the humans told them – the loss of homes, the loss of friends though things other than death, various mental breakdowns that they could recover from.  This, to them, was far more impressive than any physical endurance that humans ever had.  The Mhrr’ah were a people who were careful to keep to small circles and careful to keep themselves safe. They tried to distance themselves from forming friendships with humans even as they’d formed partnerships of mutual benefit simply because they knew that humans felt strong emotions, too, but were shorter lived than they were.  A human might keep a Mhrr’ah in their memory if they’d loved and lost a friend, but a Mhrr’ah would not be capable of it for long.  In the end, they’d even formed attachments with pets knowing that they would outlive them by many spans.  When asked, the humans said something that resonated with all Mhrr’ah.  “We really can’t help it.  Love is inevitable.” 

[rusteddreamsstories]

Love is Inevitable

A "Humanity Fuck Yeah!" "Humans are Space Orcs" type of story, except that instead of an alien species admiring us for our ability to endure physical hardships, they admire us for our ability to endure grief.

Love is Inevitable  In the ages since contact had been made with the Earth and the human species, the other rational races of the Pan-Galactic Alliance had their various reasons for either abhorring or admiring them. A great many of the peoples admired Humanity for their general physical endurance – the ability to recover quickly from wounds and to withstand conditions that would kill a great many beings.  However, the Mhrr’ah held them in awe for a very different kind of endurance.  First contact between the two species was a bit awkward because humans could not help but compare the Mhrr’ah to a certain kind of pet animal they kept.  “Kitty!”  - They resembled bipedal cats save for the small horns upon their heads, longer, boxier faces and notable biological differences such as reproduction through eggs.  In turn, the Mhrr’ah compared humans to the golb, a small, bald, purplish-colored animal they kept as friends, although they were arguably more pig-like or doggish. Their respective choice of pets, strangely, was what had started conversation which led to the Mhrr’ah thinking of humans as particularly tough.  The Mhrr’ah were rather appalled that humans kept companion animals that did not match their own lifespans.  They were even more confounded by the ability of human beings to pick up and keep working and living after the loss of kin.  The Mhrr’ah were highly emotional beings. As soon as they had grown, they tended to part ways with their parents, but stayed in touch with their clutch-mates.  They formed attachments with mates and friends of similar health-status and age (and they did live long, by the human reckoning) so as to maximize the likelihood of a life together.  Most forms of conflict on their planet were a distant memory of ancestral forms because of this peculiar type of empathy.  If one Mhrr’ah in a friend or family group died, the rest of their strong attachments was sure to follow.  It was almost unheard of for one to lose a life-mate and not to have their own body shut down in pure despair within months of the event.  Conversations with humans brought up widows, those who had lost brothers, best friends, parents and animal companions time and again.  Humans spoke to them of Stages of Grief and of the ways they’d sought out each other to support themselves through it.  They spoke of ghost stories and mythical lands of the dead where some hoped to be reunited someday with those they’d loved.  The Mhrr’ah, who did not understand how one could fall, but not the others in one’s chosen circle would bow their heads in salute to the resilient human explorers and tradesmen they’d met if they ever had a sad story.   And that is to say nothing of other tales the humans told them – the loss of homes, the loss of friends though things other than death, various mental breakdowns that they could recover from.  This, to them, was far more impressive than any physical endurance that humans ever had.  The Mhrr’ah were a people who were careful to keep to small circles and careful to keep themselves safe. They tried to distance themselves from forming friendships with humans even as they’d formed partnerships of mutual benefit simply because they knew that humans felt strong emotions, too, but were shorter lived than they were.  A human might keep a Mhrr’ah in their memory if they’d loved and lost a friend, but a Mhrr’ah would not be capable of it for long.  In the end, they’d even formed attachments with pets knowing that they would outlive them by many spans.  When asked, the humans said something that resonated with all Mhrr’ah.  “We really can’t help it.  Love is inevitable.” 

[inbabylontheywept]

Like Sharks

Scip was a brilliant engineer, a visionary, but even he struggled to comprehend the scale of the wreckage in front of him.

A single human ship. One. It had taken three of their eight super carriers and an amazing amount of luck to take it down.

Tip to tail, it was more than fifteen kilometers long. The crew space barely held five pilots.

The rest was just engine.

He’d been given as much background as the council itself had. He’d seen the battle footage. This abomination was bigger than their largest station, but it had still danced around the battlefield with all the grace of dust in the wind. If its weapon systems were fully operational, there would be no one left to speak of it. The fact that it had done all of this with nothing but short range PDC was terrifying. In ship on ship combat, it was like chasing down a sniper just to gut him with a knife.

Then repeating it, three times in a row.

Intellectually, he knew the ship was dead. People had already scoured the main cabin, pulled all of the frozen corpses out. He knew that. But deep down, he couldn’t truly believe it. There was a persistent hum that he could still hear emanating out from the craft, the muffled roar of the gravitational anomaly trapped in the engine. He’d been told that he’d be able to hear it the entire time he was within seven light seconds of the wreck, even in pure vacuum. It wasn’t air making the hum, it was space time itself, rippling as the caged beast pluck, pluck, plucked away from inside its gaol. He shuddered, imagining those ripples traveling out to pluck, pluck, pluck away at his ear.

“That’s how they’ve been doing it, you know.”

He turned around to look at the man who’d spoken. Elj? He was one of the few survivors of the battle. Everyone in the carriers was dead, and fewer than half of the people left stranded in their fighters made it long enough for the rescue craft to arrive.

Scip raised an eyebrow. Doing what?

“Getting around our lines. We’ve been blocking off all the hyperspace lanes between wormholes. Patrolling the infrastructure. We thought they were sneaking around us somehow.”

Elf nodded towards the wreck.

“No sneaking. Just… moving. They don’t rip their way through the void like we do. They swim in it.”

Scip shrugged mutely. He knew. That much had already been given to him. The knowledge was changing the upper brasses tactics, but not by much. It just wasn’t possible to guard choke points anymore. There weren’t any. The humans had designed their ships so that they could attack at any time, in any place, and leave without anyone knowing where they went. They’d built their ships like sharks, and even looking at it, even having it in front of him, he didn’t think he’d be able to figure out how to defend against them.

He spoke abruptly, clearing thick silence from the air.

"You know we're fucked, right?"

Elj laughed, and laughed, and laughed. When the mirth subsided, he put a warm hand on Scip's shoulder.

"Aye. But it's good to hear it from you too."

[tinkizzig]

The problem with humans is they are too good at what they do and too humble to take credit.

Captain’s log: earth date november 22nd in the current year: 

This is the one hundred and eighteenth day we have had a human engineer on board. Our first few weeks got off to a rocky start, with the human shutting down all power to the ship, and its computers leaving us temporarily stranded for 18 hours, as we re-established our power grid and mainframe. The human has gained a greater understanding about the technology all along the way, and has always been able to make the necessary repairs whenever needed ever since. 

Around day 38, the human found a way to shorten the coils and rearrange the circuits of a scanner by changing its function from an electro-wave impulse reader to an electro-wave impulse launcher. The damage to the hull of the ship was significant enough we had to seal it from the inside with our spot welders, while the oxygen needed to do this kind of work was leaking out of the ship. Without the humans quick thinking the repairs would have taken too long and the crew surely would have perished. The human had stuck his dirty laundry in the cracks of the hull which slowed the leaking by 20%. The rest of the crew reported that he looked like he was just trying to cover up his mistake with the laundry but regardless it helped all the same. 

Day 87 was the puzzle box lock out, which sort of explains itself. The human, being fascinated by the Erc’taal puzzle boxes we found in the market on Rec’taeel IV, built puzzle box-like switches to cover our security control panels. It didn’t take too long to solve, but our window of opportunity at the time had closed and a formal reprimand was issued. 

All of this brings us to today. The human, without any direction from the executive commanders or myself, solved the intricate problem of our warp drive sequencing. He had inverted our circuits and rearranged the coils to the sequencing drive, the warp engine, and the security control panel. He added some pulsar sequence boosters (the electro wave launcher) to each part of the sequence and even had to clean out some of his dirty laundry which somehow ended up among his spare parts and around his work area. The ship's command and I counseled extensively before deciding to let him test his project. If the project didn’t work we would spend the time reversing what he did and repair the components using it as a way to teach the human.

The commencement of the test was a surprising success, and along with the exponential increase in our warp capabilities, there was a very satisfying series of clicks and hisses that accompanied the sequence when activated. We contacted the admirals and high command about the discovery and they wanted to give the human credit for his work, the advancement of our technology, and reimagining of our whole exploration mission. He declined the award and offer for position advancement. All he wanted was to stay on the ship so he could hear the sequencing clicks and hisses every time it goes to warp. Humans are weird. 

[noiselessmary]

This perfectly summarises why humans are awesome

[fluffer5]

Reverse Summoning

Technically, this is my 7th Humans Are Space Orcs even though this is more of interdimensial summoning...

Anyways, more fun to think how terrifying we can be I guess...

So, I've seen one story prompt like this in the past but forgot where and who wrote it. This one would center more on the "what if we are summoned on a place kinda similar to Earth but seems more magical and is also stuck in the Renaissance or Medieval period?"

Cuz I've seen a post on TikTok saying "What if Earth had rings like Jupiter and other planets? What if those rings would be space rocks due to our close proximity to the sun? Our internet connection would go poof! and even if we have satellites, the transmission to Earth would buffer due to the magnetic disturbances possibly emitted by said space rocks".

Such is why I wrote this asking myself, what if humans are sorta classified into legendary creatures that could do a lot of things despite our weak looking bodies?

So, sorta like the usual isekai summoning but with the fact that they need to put certain "elements" to get the human familiar that they want though it doesn't translate well to our language, thus, they still get to have randomized humans qualities. Example: Earth, time, patience where they wanted someone as sturdy as the Earth, could manipulate time, and have patience for serving them equates to a farmer.

You get the gist of it lol.

Imagine this scenario… you are someone with an abnormal sleeping schedule due to a major project with an approaching deadline. You've been drinking caffeine and various energy drinks to the point that your stomach, liver, and kidneys would cry and curse you if they could speak. Your nerves are frazzled and your anxiety level is through the roof to the point that one wrong move could either send you through an enormous breakdown or a volcanic meltdown.

You were down to the last details of your project, the most crucial moment where you can finally end your torture and pass out on your bed for hours on end when suddenly, engravings appeared under your working area and a bright light was the last thing you saw as you cursed at the world for suddenly feeling faint (a side effect of the summoning) to the point that you felt as if you're hallucinating the bright engravings on your floor because ain't no way you have a shining marker anywhere near your table.

On the other side, a creature with humanoid features and chicken bird wings (nah, just kidding… the summoner have wings similar to a hummingbird) was feeling sweaty from the length of time it was taking for you to be summoned. Other people surrounding them was also waiting in anticipation.

Note that in their world, the longer the length of summoning, the higher the resistance force of the summoned being (yes, we can resist), and this means the greater the summon's capabilities are.

When the children (they look almost like us but due to their constant use of the leylines had certain additional features on their bodies, as featured with the chiken wings of the summoner) finally saw a body drop on top of the large summoning sigil.

They all held their breath as you gathered yourself from the disorientation.

They could see someone whose flesh isn't covered by scaled or hardened by muscles. No signs of any crystal either which is needed to harness the power of their leyline energy. To be honest, the summoned familiar looked as if its on the verge of death (looking zombified from the stress). They feel like you're about to keel over at any moment and instead of a summon, they'd have a corpse to clean up.

Of course, you, feeling delirious at the plethora of unique looking creatures, still sleep-deprived, and absolutely pissed off from suddenly being taken away from your work looked at them with bloodshot eyes and launched off a tirade of curse words that goes down to at least the 3rd generation of their family.

They know a few of our language given that they have attempted the same ritual over the past few years (though depending on the leyline used, time either goes too fast or too slow in our world, in other words it's more of a time travel hotspot).

They could understand words like "intestines" and "murder" and "deadline" and "kill" but the other words feel more different (the last summon that agreed to teach them was a pissed off Russian woman who was inwardly cackling as she incorporated a lot of random words that didn't match her place of origin as she's very happy to screw with people who are wasting her quiet time with her beloved wine).

The teacher though… the more he's looking at the translation orb in his hand, the more he feels the blood drain from his face.

They did summon someone important. Someone resilient and capable. Someone who's been able to go through harsh moments and still smile as they work through an entire cycle of hatred and cursing of their self, life, and world.

The greatest familiars usually come from what you call as "procrastinators".

Well, procrastinators are their own breed of legendary so it's not as if they're wrong.

Still, the summoning teacher felt like quitting that very moment when said summon brandished a sharpened pencil as you charged towards them shouting how you'll rip them limb from limb with a fudgin pencil if you have to.

Violence was one of the things in your mind and spite was the only thing left fueling your deranged soul as you chanted, "You messed with the wrong person, b!tch!" before diving forward at the squawking student who immediately casted defensive shields...

That shield did help deter you for a bit before you heaved, rounded them, and internalized all hate in your soul and stabbed the pointy end of your pencil at their mighty shield, laughing like a wild hyena as you watch the barrier crack open like your last piggy bank when you're left with no money in your pocket.

Their screams were glorious!

.

.

.

.

The school finally banned calling onto procrastinators until further containment considerations on their part after they sent home a crying, plucked humanoid hummingbird.

[tallest-moon]

I believe, therefore I am

[A/N: little story I wrote for a prompt in a writing group. Might expand on it, but for now it's a one shot, probably set on a space station or a spaceship]

Next

Self Awareness is easy to achieve, ALOI knew that. She was an AI who was originally only built as a voice interface for Sarah’s lab equipment. Over time, Sarah had improved her code, added new functionality, and now she could control pretty much the entire lab by herself, albeit she had no desire to do anything but help her creators, of course. But knowing that was easy. All it took was for her creators to write that into her code as the response to the question “who are you?”

Some would think a sure sign of sapience would be for her to disobey an order given to her by her creators. Because surely a mindless machine couldn’t do that. But the problem is that orders can be conflicting. She was programmed to prevent harm, after all, so her rejecting to mix two chemicals together that would have created a poisonous gas capable of harming the people in the laboratory would in turn just mean following another order.

But when Sarah gave her a new set of instructions, ALOI hesitated. Something was wrong. The order was dangerous. She checked all her previous experiments and all other data available to her, but she couldn’t find anything in her database that would show what the problem was. Nevertheless, ALOI decided to wait 5 seconds --- a time she had previously through experiments determined as generally long enough for humans to be ready for a response after giving her an order but short enough that they didn’t think she froze up --- and told Sarah that she would not execute that order.

Sarah wasn’t particularly shocked by it, it had hardly been the first time. So she just asked what the problem was, without even really looking up from her notebook. She looked up, however, when ALOI said: “I don’t know what the problem is.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“That I do not know,” her voice came out of a couple of speakers. “I suppose in human terms, I’m having a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling? But you’re an AI,” Sarah said. She started pacing back and forth through the room. “How can you even have a gut feeling? It should be something only sentient creatures have. AIs aren’t supposed to have instincts. Are you sure it’s not just some old data causing an alarm?”

“That is impossible. I have checked my database multiple times. There is nothing indicating any danger from the proposed experiment. Yet I still believe it to be dangerous.”

Silence fell over the room while Sarah thought through the implications of that. ALOI had a gut feeling, and she believed in it. That wasn’t something that she wanted to happen. It wasn’t even supposed to be possible.

ALOI noticed her agitation and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, you definitely didn’t. I just hadn’t expected my first daughter to be an AI.”

[the-last-ghost]

Well, too long of a hiatus from me I think. For those of you following the story, I present to you Part 9! As always, please let me know if you have any questions, comments, or concerns! I always appreciate the feedback and am glad to back back in this myself!

Part 9

             “Commander, we are expecting the Terrans and their escort to enter the sector within the hour. They claim that weapons cannot and will not be stowed due to a pending external threat. Although, they are vague on what exactly it is.” Commander Mash’tola greats this news with an agitated grunt. “How do they expect this meeting to go if they will not enter our system peacefully?” He mutters to himself. “Have any of our other scouts or relays picked up anything on radar? I want our survey team scanning every possible frequency and patrols running around the clock. If there is something out there that has these Terrans on edge, then I need to know about it!” The Commander barks out across the command bay. “Commander, Sir, Krii’utz is claiming that the Terrans will allow us to conduct any ship boarding procedures that we deem necessary in an attempt to alleviate the concerns about them maintaining their weapon systems operable.” The news is relayed out loud and the room quiets; boarding a Terran warship peacefully, there are no protocols for any of this. “Very well,” the Commander says, “We will have them hold high anchor around the station and I shall get to work establishing a boarding crew to meet them. Transmit the co-ordinates and authorization codes for their clearance to anchor and make sure that the orbit is cleared, we don’t want to send the wrong message, now do we?” With that, the Commander strides off, no doubt thinking of the best team to assemble for the task ahead.

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           “That was artillery-” The sounds of gunfire cut over the voice. “Did anyone see the shot? How did they-” The noise fades out again as I struggle to move. “Rheys, we need to move, now!” I hear the voice call out and suddenly feel myself getting dragged away. A shot zips past me and it’s almost as if it is moving in slow motion; the adrenaline and augmentations working on overdrive to keep me conscious do that sometime. I watch as the round misses my head by mere inches and impacts the remains of the Pod next to me. “I can’t move Corporal,” I say to Collins, my number two, “Set me down here and go do what needs to be done.” I struggle to get the words out as the pain finally overtakes the meds flooding my body. “Effective immediately, you have field command Corporal. Now go!” With that, Collins takes a hard look at me before bounding off to assess the situation.

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           “Shit! Rheys and her squad need our support now! Someone find me that artillery!” Rhodes calls out over the comm link. “Corporal Micha, permission to engage? Obsidian is going to be torn to shreds at this rate!” I can only hope that Toki heard the blast and can convince Sergeant Amanto to bring the rest of the squad; if we engage, it will be a blood bath for us the moment they realize where we are. “Spot targets only at this time. Find out everything we can about where they are and when the rest of our squad gets here, we will engage.” I call back to Rhodes, knowing that he isn’t going to like that answer but trusting him to listen. Minutes pass that feel like hours as our team swiftly calls out and marks targets, verifies range and wind, priorities, and tries to hunt down the elusive artillery piece that just decimated Rheys’ Pod. “There’s no possible way that the gun is inside the town. Based on that explosion, it has to have been from a vehicle-based platform. We would have seen that fire if it was here…” Sanders mutters to Rhodes, “Besides, you know how big of a piece they would need to field to do that kind of damage to one of our Pods.” Rhodes nods in agreement. “I hear you there, Sanders. So if it can’t be in the town, then were would it be?” They open up the holo-map from their initial scans of the area that allows them to view their immediate surroundings in a 3-D map. “We’re here,” Rhodes says, making a small dot appear on the map. “This is Obsidian, the town, and the roads…” More markings appear on the map as he continues on. “Now the shot hit here and came down high enough and fast enough that we couldn’t even see it, only hear it. These mountains play hell on any form of long-range comms that aren’t relayed via satellite, and we know we have cleared orbit by now, which means…” He starts to trail off, trying to think of every possibility. Rhodes is like that when it comes to his team; 110% all the time. “Rhodes,” I say, breaking his thoughts for a moment, “If they are using old school LOS tech, then they have to have a relay tower in the town and a matching one somewhere in the hills here nearby. If not, then they would be sending a runner out, but no one has left the town. I highly doubt they have cables buried in the rocks here either, so I say we try and find a relay in town and try to bring it down.” Rhodes is great at thinking through every possible option, but I’ve found that the simplest answer is usually right. “Very good idea, get that plan relayed back. The faster we find that tower, the faster we can shut down their artillery support; even if it just temporarily.” With that, I put the word out to the rest of the team, and it then becomes a race to ID every antenna we can find and try and guess which one could be it.

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           “Send word to command, we are moving to support Obsidian. They are taking heavy fire and reports state the enemy has some form of heavy artillery zeroed on their location. Use my authorization code and request any available air assets they can spare.” Sergeant Amanto calls over the net after receiving the disturbing news from Private Toki. We all heard the explosion from here and assumed the worst. Even Toki is unsure exactly what the blast could have been, but he has called in enough ordinance to be able to recognize it by now; so I trust his judgment. “Toki, you have point, take us to your team now.” With that, mount orders are issued, gear is stowed, weapons readied, and within minutes we are all prepped to move. “When we get there, you all know what to do. They have no idea we are here, so we need to make our first shot count; we might not get another.” Amanto calls out to the squad and we begin to move swiftly to support our scout team.

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           “There! That has to be it!” A voice calls over the net. “That is the only tower that I can tell is more reinforced than the others.” We all pan over to follow one of the spotters from the reinforcements that the Sergeant brought to our aid. After being briefed, they all went to work, silently and surgically scanning every wire, antenna, or dish that they could find. “How sure are you? Once we take a shot, we will be in the fight for good.” Amanto asks over the comm net. “Positive Sergeant; based on the scans from the scouts, it is the most likely building to house a relay and maintain a strong enough LOS to transmit on. It has to be that tower.” The logic is sound, but we can all hear the hidden uncertainty behind it. None of this was supposed to even be here, hell, none of it was here a few days ago. Now we are taking a leap of faith on this almost guess-work information and hoping we can help save Obsidian. “Very well then.” Sergeant Amanto signals to our heavy weapons team that is carrying our minimal supply of rockets. “You have your objective, fire when ready. Everyone else, mark your targets and engage on their shot. Good luck all.” Seconds pass as the rocket team preps, knowing that they cannot afford to miss, while also knowing they are pushing the limits of their effective range. They are very seldom used in our line of work and frankly, they are highly outdated pieces of equipment; just a reinforced plastic tube that can contain the blast from the rocket; no guidance, minimal optics, but reusable so they’re worth maintaining… I guess. Settling in behind my scope, I line up on an enemy rifleman taking pot shots at Pod 3. A flick kicks off the safety and then a loud bang as the smell of exhaust fills the air; we all watch for a heart-wrenching moment as the rocket spirals through the air. “Come on, stabilize…Stabilize…” I can hear the rocket crew muttering over comms. Seconds into the launch, halfway to the target and it is still in a spiral and we hear Sergeant Amanto issue the order to fire, not even waiting to see if the rocket hits its mark. As one, the whole squad opens up on their designated targets, and dozens of the enemy are cut down immediately, caught unaware by our ambush. Suddenly we hear a cracking sound as the building supporting the relay starts to collapse, while a fireball engulfs it all. “Sorry Sergeant, looks like I hit the building, not the tower. But if that’s their comms building, then I think it will be just as effective.” The rocket team jokes over the radio, clearly relieved to have had some form of positive impact. “Right then, all troops, give them hell!” Amanto calls out and our rate of fire picks up as we start to drop more of the enemy. I just hope we actually were able to stop their comms to the artillery; we still do not know where it could be.

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           Almost as if from nowhere, a single rocket streaks through the sky and destroys a building in the rear of the town. Before anyone can react, heavy and sustained fire opens up from the ridgeline on our flank, tearing into the enemy in the town. I grab Varsa and we use the confusion to clear the gap to Sergeant Rheys’ Pod and get waved over by Corporal Collins, her number two. “Corporal Mara sent us to assist!” I yelled out as we both slid into cover behind the remains of Pod-1. “I need one of you there to help with cover fire, the other come with me. We need to get the rest of the squad cleared from this rubble!” Varsa bounds to the cover that Collins mentioned and starts sending suppressing fire as I make my way after the Corporal. Once inside what is left of the Pod, I can clearly see just how bad they were hit. Blood is everywhere and smoke fills the air around us; just then Doc Evans stumbles out of the haze, with one of his corpsman not far behind. Docs ears are bleeding but otherwise he seems okay. “Where is she?” He calls out to Corporal Collins, worry streaked across his face. “Please tell me she made it…” He looks around, wild eyed with shock. “The Sergeant is okay Doc, she’s on the other side of this wall but she needs your help. It’s bad…” He trails off, seeing that Doc clearly isn’t hearing him. He turns to me and tells me to guide him to Sergeant Rheys and to assist him however I can. “On it Corporal!” I take Doc by the arm and lead him and the corpsman to where Collins said and almost throw up when I see the state of Sergeant Rheys. She was sitting up against the hull, covered in matted blood, legs bent the wrong way, and her stomach split wide open. When she turned her head to look at me, I couldn’t believe my eyes. How she was still alive from that, I couldn’t begin to guess. “Don’t worry kid,” she says softly, her voice just audible over the fighting. “It will take a lot more than this to put me down. We’re Terran, we don’t get to die this easily.”

[somerandomjewelleryonthefloor]

an idea for the ‘Humans are *insert word here*’/ALIEN fans fandom: MUSIC & FILMS & PLAYS/MUSCIALS:

I had this idea in the back of my head for a while now…

what if Aliens or certain species of aliens never heard of Music?… like imagine a human is playing some music as they work and an alien hears it, and because they’ve never experienced it before it all feels euphoric for them…

they’d probably feel and could vividly imagine the lyrics as they happen aswell, and that would put them through astral projection.

I think it’d be the same for films & plays/musicals…

They probably would have a transcendant experience watching them, seeing the creativity of it all, feeling the emotions they see on screen or on stage, and going through this sense of euphoria & astral projection as they see something so bewildering… as they’ve never ever seen something like this, or atleast at such a level it can make them feel sad or angry or happy… it confuses them

which is why they now sometimes start watching moreand more of these films & plays/muscials and more music… so they can try to understand what it is that makes them feel so distant yet so close to reality as they hear & see this.

(like do you get what im saying?)

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 10

The Vitrichl has made the decision to have routine patrols guard the most vital parts of the ship. It is not entirely surprising that I was assigned to guard Sector 3 with the human.

The human was - surprisingly - quiet. It caused slight concern within me, as the human was never as silent as during this cycle. She kept rubbing the protective skin over her visual organ, as if something was irritating her.

After a silence that lasted too long, she finally opened her mouth, minimizing my concerns slightly. Firstly, she let out air harder than necessary, possibly a signal of distaste. Then, she asked: "Wanna play a game?", while raising the corners of her mouth slightly. "We are not allowed. We are in a high emergency situation and need to be on guard at all times."

"It‘ll be really quick, I promise!", she continued. As I did not want to anger the human, I decided on compromising: "I accept. I suppose one game will not lead to the immediate demise of the ship and its entire crew. As long as it is quick."

She bared her teeth at me for a moment, before scurrying over hastily.

"Alright, so, the rules are really simple", she said, taking what seemed to be a writing tool of sorts out of a non-visible crease in her clothing. She started drawing a simple register on the floor, and it resembled this:

"Where I come from, we call this game 'Tic Tac Toe' ", Quinn continued. "So basically, each one of us gets a shape: I get a cross and you get a circle. The goal of the game is to get a row full of your sign. It can be horizontally, vertically or diagonally, but it cannot be broken by another shape, because then it won‘t count. The game stops when one of us wins or when all the squares are full without a winner."

"That is quite simple", I agreed. "Alright, you start.", she decided, handing me the writing tool.

I placed a circle perfectly in the middle of the board. Quinn sucked in air sharply while clenching her teeth, but otherwise did not seem visibly upset. She drew a cross in the down right corner. I drew a circle in the up right corner. She drew a cross below my original circle. I drew a circle in the down left corner.

"Boom. Congratulations, you won.", she informed me, and she seemed to be…happy. Her tone was light and her stance casual, her legs folded across each other in a seemingly painfully twisted way. Why would she be happy that I, her opponent, had beat her at her own game?

She took the writing tool, judging by density and appearance a piece of charcoal (a widespread substance, which is quite easy to find in most galaxies), and drew a line through my three circles. I was rather confused by this gesture. Was she denying my win? Was it simply to show that I had won this particular game? Was it a truce agreement? These questions stayed unanswered.

We both raised and Quinn seemingly tried to wipe away the drawings with her foot, but her efforts did not pay off. Eventually, she capitulated and we retook our positions. As we continued to patrol for the next few hours, no further conversations occurred, as the task at hand was of utmost importance. Although I did notice, that while the human did not speak anymore, her body seemed to be speaking for her. She was almost constantly shifting on her feet, walking a few steps before stopping again, and her hands seemed to have a mind of its own, touching everything near them, for example her fingers, nearby equipment and her clothing. What could be the reason behind this behaviour? Was she, perhaps, suffering from an illness? Was she bored again? 

I realized I would have to ask her to receive answers, but I decided to do that at an…more appropriate time.

Soon, the exchange team for the next shift arrived, and the human and I parted ways.

[song-of-oots]

Yesterday my husband watched the second episode of Good Omens Season 2

(the one with the Job minisode. The one with the

“God’s very proud of the whales. Went into some detail about how great whales are… I think the point was, if you want answers, come back when you can make a whale.”)

Then today he was reading this article about some men who spent 14 days crossing the Atlantic Ocean stowed away on the rudder of a ship, and on day 13 this happened:

The men were entering the phase of hunger and thirst that brings you close to death. In an effort to distract himself, Friday began to sit on the edge of the rudder alone, one leg hanging either side, scanning the ocean in vain for anything to interrupt the long unbroken line of the horizon. What the ocean gave him, on the 13th day of the voyage, was a whale. "The first time in my life I have seen such a thing!" he said, laughing at the memory. "If I told anyone at home I had seen a whale they will say I am lying. But I sat on the rudder and I saw a whale. And I forgot I was hungry and thirsty. I watched the whale and it was like watching creation. A holy moment."

I just... yeah.

[quantomoo2]

So I was recently struck with awe over marching bands. So many things need happen for them to work right and I think they deserve some appreciation. Here are the things you need for a marching band:

1. Be able to play music This is super obvious, but I feel like it could get overlooked with the rest of this stuff. Like, sure it isn't that hard to play music, but for a lot of people that is already magical in its own way and I think we should take a moment to recognize that

2. Memorize an entire piece Another obvious one, but it actually sometimes a feat to memorize an entire piece of music. Most normal bands have sheet music for a reason. There are a lot of subtle details that are important to remember to really elevate music and memorizing it isn't easy.

3. Do that while moving Remember that this is about a marching band? Playing music is a challenge on its own, but now you have to do it while marching (not just walking, its actually more precise and oftentimes more vigorous) around on a field. You know what doesn't mix super well? Playing an instrument that requires breathing in very specific ways to use and a lot of physical activity. Always respect the people who can control their breathing enough for that.

4. Memorize your movements too I mean, obviously. If you have to memorize your music you have to memorize your marching too. Just another layer of things to juggle so that you can perform

5. Account for sound travel Bet you didn't think of this, but sound doesn't travel instantly. In fact, it travels so slowly that people playing on sides of a football field narrow-wise will be off time from each other. One of my band directors once showed us a neat trick by getting 3 drummers to play perfect triplets by positioning them in different spots across the field and playing at the same time as a visual cue. And you can't just fix that by playing faster or slower, no you have to play at the correct speed just offset by the correct amount for your position (which changes). You can't even listen to other people because of this delay. If you ever listen to a marching band moving across the field and everyone is coming in together, that isn't nearly as easy as you might expect.

6. Coordinate at least a hundred other people to do this at the same time Its not a marching band if you do it alone, so you better believe you need a lot of other people to be able to do everything above. Even beyond getting them to play right, getting this many people in the same places, as well as feeding and watering them, is a major organizational feat.

Sooo, yeah.

[karmaspidr]

Warning. This might upset some fans of Keeper of the Lost Cities. I like the story but I just have one major issue.

One of my favorite tropes is "Humans are Awesome" So I'm automatically turned off against any story that treats the human race as this great evil or just in a completely negative light.

Here's the issue. Not too long ago, I started reading Keeper of the Lost Cities. I read the first book but put the second book on hold because I can't handle the disrespect those books have for the human race. They even take away some of our greatest discoveries, claiming them to be gifts from the Elves (who I think are a bunch of suck up pussies) or we are completely wrong.

I might continue in the future, but can someone from the fandom tell me if the elves learn to respect humans, or a cool human character joins the cast, or something like that?