“You affix metal and wires to your teeth…use needles to inject portraits into your skin…stab your flesh with shards of metal…remove your hair with lasers…cut patterns into your faces…burn yourselves…remove fat and break your noses and inject diseases into yourselves willingly. Why?”
And we answered “For beauty.”
Fireworks confused them. “These horrible explosions, with their colors and patterns? Is this an act of war, or is it in worship of some god?”
We answered, “No. It is in celebration.”
Explaining vaccines was difficult. “You give yourself disease on purpose? You force it into your blood with needles? Why?”
We answered, “To teach our bodies to resist it.”
They felt awe at our true wars. At our missiles that harnessed the power found in stars, at our weapons that spread poison and disease, at our flying machines that destroyed thousands while we flew them from continents away. They asked, “For what reasons do you go to war?”
We answered, “To gain money and resources, to exact revenge, to impose and uphold faith and ideology, and, now and then, on our best days, to answer a cry for help.”
They asked us, “The moon is barren, and yet you went. Mount Everest is a deadly place, and yet you go. The ocean is vast and frightful and travel to its depths is near impossible, and yet you are trying to dive. Why?”
We answered, “To show that we could, to show that we can, to show that we will.”
They asked, “Why?”
We answered, “Because how dare there be questions unanswered, realms unexplored, lands unconquered. How dare this reality not fall under our command. We will rule this universe or we will die trying.”
Random Headcanon: That Federation vessels in Star Trek seem to experience bizarre malfunctions with such overwhelming frequency isn’t just an artefact of the television serial format. Rather, it’s because the Federation as a culture are a bunch of deranged hyper-neophiles,
tooling around in ships packed full of beyond-cutting-edge tech they
don’t really understand. Endlessly frustrating if you have to fight
them, because they can pull an effectively unlimited number of bullshit
space-magic countermeasures out of their arses – but they’re as likely
as not to give themselves a lethal five-dimensional wedgie in the
process. All those rampant holograms and warp core malfunctions and
accidentally-traveling-back-in-time incidents? That doesn’t actually
happen to anyone else; it’s literally just Federation vessels that go off the rails like that. And they do so on a fairly regular basis.
So to everyone else in the galaxy, all humans are basically Doc Brown.
Aliens who have seen the Back to the Future movies literally don’t realise that Doc Brown is meant to be funny. They’re just like “yes, that is exactly what all human scientists are like in my experience”.
THE ONLY REASON SCOTTY IS CHIEF ENGINEER INSTEAD OF SOMEONE FROM A SPECIES WITH A HIGHER TECHNOLOGICAL APTITUDE IS BECAUSE EVERYONE FROM THOSE SPECIES TOOK ONE LOOK AT THE ENTERPRISE’S ENGINE ROOM AND RAN AWAY SCREAMING
vulcan science academy: why do you need another warp core
humans: we’re going to plug two of them together and see if we go twice as fast
vsa: last time we gave you a warp core you threw it into a sun to see if the sun would go twice as fast
humans: hahaha yeah
humans: it did tho
vsa: IT EXPLODED
humans: it exploded twice as fast
I love this. Especially because of how well it plays with my headcanon that the Federation does so much better against the Borg than anyone else because beating the Borg with military tactics is nigh-impossible, but beating them with wacky superscience shenanigans works as long as they’re unique wacky superscience shenanigans.
Yeah, I love this.
Reminds me of the thing I wrote a while back about Humans in high fantasy realms – they’re basically Team Fuck It Hold My Beer I Got This.
Impulsive, passionate to a fault, the social structures they build to try and regulate this hotheadedness ironically creates even greater levels of sheer bull-headedness. Even their “cooler” heads take action in months or weeks.
All their great heroes of the past were impossibly rash by galactic standards. Humans Just Go With It, which is their great flaw but also their greatest strength.
klingons: okay we don’t get it
vulcan science academy: get what
klingons: you vulcans are a bunch of stuffy prisses but you’re also tougher, stronger, and smarter than humans in every single way
klingons: why do you let them run your federation
vulcan science academy: look
vulcan science academy: this is a species where if you give them two warp cores they don’t do experiments on one and save the other for if the first one blows up
vulcan science academy: this is a species where if you give them two warp cores, they will ask for a third one, immediately plug all three into each other, punch a hole into an alternate universe where humans subscribe to an even more destructive ideological system, fight everyone in it because they’re offended by that, steal their warp cores, plug those together, punch their way back here, then try to turn a nearby sun into a torus because that was what their initial scientific experiment was for and they didn’t want to waste a trip.
vulcan science academy: they did that last week. we have the write-up right here. it’s getting published in about six hundred scientific journals across two hundred different disciplines because of how many established theories their ridiculous little expedition has just called into question. also, they did turn that sun into a torus, and no one actually knows how.
vulcan science academy: this is why we let them do whatever the hell they want.
klingons: …. can we be a part of your federation
Come to think of it, I mean. Look at the “first human warp drive” thing in the movie. That was… Not how Vulcans would have done it.
you know what the best evidence for this is? Deep Space 9 almost never broke down. minor malfunctions that irritated O’Brien to hell and back, sure, but almost none of the truly weird shit that befell Voyager and all the starships Enterprise. what was the weirdest malfunction DS9 ever had? the senior staff getting trapped as holosuite characters in Our Man Bashir, and that was because a human decided to just dump the transporter buffer into the station’s core memory and hope everything would work out somehow, which is a bit like swapping your computer’s hard drive out for a memory card from a PlayStation 2 and expecting to be able to play a game of Spyro the Dragon with your keyboard and mouse.
you know what, I’m not done with this post. let’s talk about the Pegasus. the USS Fucking Pegasus,
testbed for the first Starfleet cloaking device. here we have a handful
of humans working in secret to develop a cloaking device in violation
of a treaty with the Romulans. they’re playing catchup trying to develop
a technology other species have had for a century. and what do they do?
do they decide to duplicate a Romulan cloaking device precisely, just
see if they can match what other species have? nope. they decide, hey,
while we’re at it, while we’re building our very first one of these things, just to find out if this is possible, let’s see if we can make this thing phase us out of normal space so we can fly through planets while we’re invisible.
“but why” said the one Vulcan in the room.
“because that would fucking rule” said the humans, high-fiving each other and slamming cans of 24th-century Red Bull.
there
must be like twenty different counselling groups for non-human
engineering students at Starfleet Academy, and every week in every
single one of them someone walks in and starts up with a story like “our
assignment was to repair a phaser emitter and my one human classmate
built a chronometric-flux toaster that toasts bread after you’ve eaten
it.”
Humans get mildly offended by the way they are presented in non-human media.
Like: “Guys, we totally wouldn’t do that!” But this always fails to get much traction, because the authors can always say: “You totally did.”
“That was ONE TIME.”
There’s that movie where humans invented vaccines by just testing them on people. Or the one about those two humans who invented powered flight by crashing a bunch of prototypes. Or the one about electricity.
And human historians go, “Oh, uh, this is historically accurate, but also kind of boring.” To which the producers respond: “How is doing THIS CRAZY THING boring????????”
There are entire serieses of horror movies where the premise is “We stopped paying attention to the human and ey found the technology.”
reblog for new meta.
RE that last line: McGuyver.
“MacGuyver” is the equivalent of Vulcan vintage human horror television.
during orientation at a human college, vulcans are presented with a list of swear words.
“what is the word ‘fuck’ for,” the innocent young vulcans want to know. “surely there are more logical intensity modifiers.”
“yeah, you’d think so,” say the weary, jaded vulcan professors. “you’d really fucking think so.”
there is a phrase in vulcan for ‘the particular moment you understand what the word ‘fuck’ is for’.
So there has been a bit of “what if humans were the weird ones?” going around tumblr at the moment and Earth Day got me thinking. Earth is a wonky place, the axis tilts, the orbit wobbles, and the ground spews molten rock for goodness sakes. What if what makes humans weird is just our capacity to survive? What if all the other life bearing planets are these mild, Mediterranean climates with no seasons, no tectonic plates, and no intense weather?
What if several species (including humans) land on a world and the humans are all “SCORE! Earth like world! Let’s get exploring before we get out competed!” And the planet starts offing the other aliens right and left, electric storms, hypothermia, tornadoes and the humans are just … there… counting seconds between flashes, having snowball fights, and just surviving.
To paraphrase one of my favorite bits of a ‘humans are awesome’ fiction megapost: “you don’t know you’re from a Death World until you leave it.” For a ton of reasons, I really like the idea of Earth being Space Australia.
Earth being Space Australia
Words cannot express how much I love these posts
Alien: “I’m sorry, what did you just say your comfortable temperature range is?”
Human: “Honestly we can tolerate anywhere from -40 to 50 Celcius, but we prefer the 0 to 30 range.”
Alien: “……. I’m sorry, did you just list temperatures below freezing?”
Human: “Yeah, but most of us prefer to throw on scarves or jackets at those temperatures it can be a bit nippy.”
Other human: “Nah mate, I knew this guy in college who refused to wear anything past his knees and elbows until it was -20 at least.”
Human: “Heh. Yeah everybody knows someone like that.”
Alien: “……. And did you also say 50 Celcius? As in, half way to boiling?”
Human: “Eugh. Yes. It sucks, we sweat everywhere, and god help you if you touch a seatbelt buckle, but yes.”
Alien: “……. We’ve got like 50 uninhabitable planets we think you might enjoy.”
“You’re telling me that you have… settlements. On islands with active volcanism?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not about to tell Iceland and Hawaii how to live their lives. Actually, it’s kind of a tourist attraction.”
“What, the molten rock?”
“Well, yeah! It’s not every day you see a mountain spew out liquid rocks! The best one is Yellowstone, though. All these hot springs and geysers from the supervolcano–”
“You ACTIVELY SEEK OUT ACTIVE SUPERVOLCANOES?”
“Shit, man, we swim in the groundwater near them.”
Sounds like the “Damned” trilogy by Alan Dean Foster.
“And you say the poles of your world would get as low as negative one hundred with wind chill?”
“Yup, with blizzards you cant see through every other day just about.”
“Amazing! when did you manage to send drones that could survive such temperatures?”
“… well, actually…”
“… what?”
“…we kinda……. sent……….. people…..”
“…”
“…”
“…what?”
“we sent-”
“no yeah I heard you I just- what? You sent… HUMANS… to a place one hundred degrees below freezing?”
“y-yeah”
“and they didn’t… die?”
“Well the first few did”
“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE???!?!?!?”
My new favorite Humans are Weird quote
“PEOPLE DIED OF THE COLD AND YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO SEND MORE PEOPLE?”
aka The History of Russia
aka Arctic Exploration
aka The History of Alaska
Being from Alaska, this was sort of how I felt going to college in the lower 48′s and learned that no one else had been put through a literal survival camp as a regular part of their school curriculum, including but not limited to:
1. Learning to recognize all forms of animal tracks in the wild so you can avoid bears and moose and search out rabbits and other small animals to eat.
2. Extensive swimming and climbing on glacial pieces with competitions to see who could last the longest, followed by a group sit in the sauna so we wouldn’t get hypothermia (no, not kidding, I really did this many times as a kid!)
3. How to navigate using the stars to get back to civilization.
4. How to select the right type of moss from the trees to start a fire with damp wood (because, y’know, you’re in a field of snow. Nothing is dry.)
5. How to carve out a small igloo-like space to sleep in the snow to preserve body heat and reduce the windchill so you won’t freeze to death in the arctic.
“I’m telling you, I don’t think we need to worry about territory conflicts with the humans. You know all those deathtrap hell-worlds in the Argoth Cluster?” “Those worthless rocks? Yeah.” “80% of them are considered ‘resort destinations’ by those freaky little primates.”
“I’m telling you, they terraform for fun!” “Don’t be ridiculous” “No, seriously. Some of their most celebrated cultural loci are built on swamps. They have an entire city that is literally in a body of water. Not, like, an artificial pontoon city, they literally sunk the foundations into water. For Grilp’s sake, they build elaborate structures out of frozen water AND THEN SLEEP IN THEM.” “Dear Thilak. Think we could get them to terraform our moons?” “Psh, they’d probably pay for the privilege.”
Eventually, it occurs to someone that humans are the perfect terraforming shock troops, as it were. They think it’s fun to be sent to horrible planets! They’re really good at surviving and then taming them! All you have to do is sit back and wait until the planet is habitable, and then move there yourself! It’s genius.
It only takes one try before the reality of the situation sets in: human definitions of ‘taming’ and ‘habitable’ are woefully incomplete.
“Why did you not eliminate the venomous plant life?” Grahssk’ti moans, clutching one limb.
“Those?” The human laughs. “Why bother? They’re not that bad. And they eat the mosquitoes.”
Grahssk’ti shudders. The ‘mosquitoes’ are… not to be mentioned. Just one swarm of them caused a landing shuttle to crash three planetary daylights ago.
“And the acid storms? Why did you not warn us of them?”
“I mean, they’re annoying,” the human says, shrugging, “but we figured the cool sunsets made up for it.”
Grahssk’ti flails helplessly. “What about the ten-meter tall Fanged Death Bringers? They can eliminate an entire settlement in under an hour!”
“They’re so cute!” the human says, brightening. “Have you met mine? Her name is Spot!”
Humans are told of some planet or region of space that is considered “completely and utterly inhospitable – it would be folly to try and settle there.”
Without fail, a decent number make it a point to settle there because “Fuck You That’s Why.” It doesn’t matter how uneconomical it is, how difficult the conditions are, how utterly ridiculous it may seem, there will be at least one human who will attempt to do it only because someone else regardless of species says it is improbable or WORSE impossible.
“This moon is still forming as such it is primarily soft – by that I mean most of the magma is close to the surface and-”
‘OH BADASS you mean its like Mustafar right!?!?!?! I’m totally going to build a castle there.’
“What. I mean. There is NO fertile ground there whatsoever. No ecosystem. It is molten rock and minerals only.”
‘Which will make my castle there look METAL AS FUCK am I RIGHT!?!??! Come on. COME ON. I TAUGHT YOU HOW TO FISTBUMP COME ON.’
“….you….you are going to die, you know this right?”
‘I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to come to Lava Castle for some reason?’
“Listen, lad. I’ve built this kingdom up from nothing. When I started here, all there was was molten magma. All those aliens said I was daft to build a castle on a molten planet, but I built it all the same, just to show ‘em. It sank into the magma. So, I built a second one. That sank into the magma. So I built a third one. That spontaneously combusted, turned to ash, then sank into the magma. But the fourth one stayed up. An’ that’s what your gonna get, lad – the strongest castle in this solar system.”
“I’m gonna need for you to explain ‘hurricane parties’ to me again. You humans have the technology to track these apocalyptic storms of wind and rain and predict where on the landmass they’ll hit up to a week in advance. And you…have social gatherings during them?”
“Well yeah, but only up to about Category 3 strength. Then it’s time to pack the car and head inland for most people, although a few hardy souls stick around and ride them out.”
“Oh good. Category 3 is what again? Winds up to 75 kilometers per hour?”
“No no, Category 3 starts at 175 kilometers per hour. You left off the one.”
I’m sure I’ve reblogged some version of this before, but I needed the STRONGEST CASTLE IN THIS SOLAR SYSTEM on my blog.
the universe: okay, you’re a human. I gave you free will and a conscious mind, so you’re free to do whatever you want. So what do you wanna do?
human: GO FAST
the universe: well, you’re a perfect pursuit predator but if that’s the way you want to evolve, go ahead.
human, climbing on a horse: GO FAST
the universe: wait what
human, inventing the carriage, the car and the bullet train: GO FASTER
the universe: I IMPLORE YOU TO STOP
human, trying to figure out lightspeed travel: FAS T ER
human:
THEORETICALLY MAXIMUM FAST
the universe:
How will the people in the ship not get gibbed?
Because the warp drive doesn’t actually accelerate the ship, it just makes the space in front of it smaller and the space behind it larger. Or something.
it works like this
Objects cannot accelerate to the speed of light within normal spacetime; instead, the Alcubierre drive shifts space around an object so that the object would arrive at its destination faster than light would in normal space without breaking any physical laws.
A WRINKLE IN TIME IS COMING TRUE
We gonna be surfing gravity waves!!
COWABUNGA SPACE DUDES!
I love how mankind’s solution to ftl is just to bend to rules of reality a little.
Universe: ok human, with the physical laws as they are you can’t go faster than the speed of light.
Humanity: ok, let me just figure out how to manipulate space time so I can go FASTER!
Another humans are weird space orcs idea because I really like thinking about it. What if aliens have no idea how to hide their emotions? Like, they suck at poker because they can never keep a straight face or anything. or, on a darker note, their ship is hijacked and they can’t keep the fear out of their faces, but all the humans look cold and emotionless to them. Other aliens hating having to bargain with humans becase we can bluff and keep our emotions in check so well, but when they get frustrated it’s all over. Pirates threaten the space ship and they send the human to do negotiations, and the pirate talking is super confused because no matter what threat he makes, the human just doesn’t seem to be fazed one bit.
Someone please, feel free to add to this, I love to see what else people come up with!
Okay, but now I’m thinking about how this ability is used in the context of animal training/hostage negotiation/teaching/customer service. Not just looking stone-faced, but completely lying with affect, body-language and vocal tone to seem calm, friendly, relaxed and in control of the situation in order to build rapport with an animal or person and to de-escalate aggression in a situation.
Proximity alarms start going off. A vessel is approaching.
Camilian: <looks at viewscreen> “Oh zark it, it’s the Parg.”
Camilian: <shudders>: “The Parg. Remember the civilisations living on those five planets Lei-ward of Helios 6?”
Human: “No? I thought that system was empty of sentient life.”
Camilian: “Exactly.”
Human: “…ah.” <looks at flashing lights on console> “They appear to be hailing us.”
<Camilian and Egrat scuttle backwards away from console.>
Human: “…thanks a bunch, guys.” <presses hail pick-up button> “This is Communications Officer Haley Makini of the Starboat Fribling, how may I help you?”
Parg ship: “This is Zek of Parg.”
Human: “Hello Zek! How are you feeling this day-cycle?”
Parg Ship: “…”
Human: “I for one have been missing my family lately, I got a vidcall from my little sister and my cousins – same-generation kin-people – and they told me that cousin Wendy is getting married to her girlfriend Mila, isn’t that nice? So I’m really hoping I can make it to the wedding – that’s romantic lifebond ceremony – because otherwise they’d all be sad, they told me so. Do you have any family – lifemates or brood or other kin-people back in your home-system Zek?”
Parg Ship: “…Zek of Parg has brood of five. All Smallings, but soon Biglings. Soon.”
Human: “Oh! You must be so proud of them!”
Parg Ship: “… Yah. Good future replacements for Parent-bodies for Glory of Parg.”
Human: “And that’s all any of us could want! Imagine how sad our kin would be if either of us were to fail to make it back home! That’s why I want to help your ship Zek, in any way we can. The Fribling is only a small ship, but we have some surplus goods and skills to offer if you need anything from us.”
<long pause>
<No one on board the Fribling speaks, but Egrat has anxiously chewed their claws to the quick>
Parg Ship: “Have Lucrum cable? Parg Ship underengine in poor condition, jury-rig not hold, need hitch-tow to Dellar System.”
Human: “Oh, that’s only 8 parsecs away. Sure, hah, we can manage that. No problem.”
<78 minutes later, after the two ships have been attached via Lucrum cable>
Parg Ship: “…What kind you?”
Human: “Huh? ….oh, I’m a human. I’m from Sol 3, Earth.”
<Human sinks to ground, hand on chest, hyperventilating slightly>
Human: “HolyfuckhowdidIpullthatoffohholyfuck!”
Camilian: “Wait, you were scared too?”
Human: <glaring> “Cam, we’ve worked together how long? I’d have thought that by now you’d trust my threat assessment abilities. Phew! That one was so close I felt the breeze going past.”
Egrat: “…how. How did you just do that?”
Human: “It’s not hard. Stay calm, just keep smiling, and build rapport by pretending to care about their problems, and meanwhile showing that you’re a real thinking being. Tends to defuse situations rather than escalate them.”
Egrat: “…I think I saw what you did, but where did you learn how to do that?”
Human: “5 years customer service experience.”
I appreciate that you lumped customer service in with both animal training and hostage negotiation, I won’t lie. Mainly because, oh god, I have had those customers. *shudders*
Me too @amy-vic me too. O.O
*cackling* reblogging both for the space orc-humans, and the *customer service experience!* so very very true.
No, no! You guys are missing the opportunity of a lifetime!
Sgarlk sprints into the med bay, all seven pasterns slipping on the tiles as xe takes in the sight of poor, poor Human Carl on the gurney. Xer dermis darkens to midnight blue as sorrow and worry washes through xer. The human is pale and hollow-opticked, as most of its oxidation fluid is on the gurney. And the floor. And its dermis and coverings. And the med team.
“Oh. Oh, Human Carl. Your poor appendage.”
The med team are all varying shades of worry, fear, and grief as they work to close the gaping wound on Human Carl’s upper torso. Human Carl, on the other hand, seems only mildly put out by all the bustle, despite its unnatural pallor.
“Meh. Just a scratch.”
Sgarlk blinks. All twelve eyes go through the motion. “No. I fear you misunderstand. Your arm, Human Carl. It is… it is off.”
Again, Human Carl doesn’t seem to care. “Just a flesh wound.”
The deep blue fades to a confused purple-grey mottle, and xe gestures at the battered appendage in the hermetically sealed container off to the right. “What is that, then?”
The human does the curious shoulder gesture classified as a “shrug”, though the movement looks strange without the second appendage to balance it out.
“I’ve had worse.”
1) shock is one hell of a drug. 2) all self respecting humans i know would 100% take the opportunity to make this reference
3) all self respecting humans within earshot will reply with further quotes.
okay, so, I love all the posts that run off the assumption that humans are the most ridiculous sapient species in the galaxy
but what if it’s just the other way around
what if humans are notoriously straitlaced and obsessed with protocol. the bureaucrats of the stars.
which is obviously something we would constantly try to complain about and disprove only for some Alpha Centaurian to be like “Captain, your species formalized spirituality, repeatedly, and a recurring theme therein is that the heavens themselves are run as a bureaucracy. Even your rebellions and revolutions are meticulously planned.”
it’s not a bad thing, per se, to have a human on your team — analytical minds, good diplomats (if only because one human etiquette system can be more complex and even contradictory than the vastly varied customs of an entire species) — but be prepared for them to call attention to moral quandaries and loopholes that never would have occurred to you.
and speaking of loopholes, do be careful, because the only thing worse than a human armed with an ironclad system of rules is a human who’s found a gaping hole in them.
“You’re telling me there was a mass movement to name a boat something dumb as a joke?”
“First of all, it wasn’t a mass movement, and second of all, the boat was by no means the first time nor the last.”
“…Exactly how much of Earth comedy is based on incongruous branding?”
Hear me out here: Humans as both.
Like most sapient species assume the above; humans are straitlaced, meticulous, and methodical. They follow strict rules which dictate their social interactions and even a slight variation is considered taboo. They are the quintessential bureaucrats.
Except when they’re not.
We’ve talked about humans method of scientific exploration and advancement involving a ridiculous amount of danger for all parties involved. But, ya know, we write it all down in a very orderly manner and get published and peer reviewed. And then other humans copy the incredibly dangerous experiment to see what happens for themselves.
Humans survived the volatile early years of their species rise through community-bonding. They put the needs of a group of individuals over all else; hunting as a group, eating as a group, raising families as a group, and sometimes dying as a group. This tendency to form strong bonds means that while a human’s signed contract can always be trusted. It also means that a human cannot be trusted to not rip that contract up and say “Fuck it” if an individual with whom they have a community-bond is in danger. Other species are baffled to discover that the individual in question need not be human, or even sapient. Stories of humans who have defended what would normally be considered prey animals by other omnivorous species, of humans who have killed to defend their non-human crew mates, even one story (surely just a story, it can’t be true) of an entire crew of humans who elevated a simple non-sapient cleaning bot to officer’s rank and threatened rebellion if it was decommissioned.
So, sure, humans are logical and awfully organized for such a diverse species. They make phenomenal bureaucrats and politicians. They’re highly sought after as strategists and advisors to royalty the galaxy over.
But, they’re also appear to take great pleasure in looking the rules dead in the eyes and very deliberately thumbing their nose as those rules. Because, the rules (and logic) say you probably shouldn’t jump off a cliff into unknown waters and humans have made multiple sports based entirely off that concept.
as an individual: logical, organized
as a species: hold my beer
I love that Stabby the robot has become part of the Canon of “human interaction with aliens”.
that’s the whole story with humans, you never know what you’re getting.
You think you’re taking on board a thoughtful rules and regs talker with no claws, fangs, horns or venom – only to discover under specific circumstances several years into your trip that your human is capable of living on nothing but salt and water for 40 days, of adapting to a life of hiding in the ships ventilation shafts, only coming out to steal supplies and make savage berserker attacks with surprisingly brutal hand-crafted weapons; capable of doing surgery on ITSELF to keep stay alive. Your crew takes some time off and you discover that your safety officer is willing to tie a stretchy rope to it’s leg and leap into an abyss for FUN. That your logical, analytical human likes to poison itself, y’know, just a little, for RECREATION. That your human can stay cool and collected for ten years and still explode at the drop of a hat.
”yeah, all calm and diplomatic for more than 2 home-star cycles, then one night we’re sitting across from a group with another human, keeps looking at our human, our human acts like it doesn’t notice. Halfway through the meal our human looks over and says “Can I help you?” and the other human just says, “No, I received all the help I need from your birther the night before this” and it took nine of us to pull them apart. They both wound up in the infirmary, there were cracked bones, stitches… I ran it through the translators three times, I have no idea; our human would only say they knew each other. Hormone readings off the chart – personally, I think it was some kind of mating behavior.”
Conversely, as an alien with a species of monsters to conquer, you hear of a planet where the inhabitants will leap naked into the ocean to kill a beast the size of an entire surface lander with a stick, and they punch holes in themselves for fashion. So you hire on a crew of these thrill-seeking murderous savages and sic them on your monster enemies only to discover that they’ve established communications with the monsters, befriended them, and are, in fact, now back to insist you cease all violent actions and that you owe the monsters for damages to their planet.
“Hey uh, Boss, so, yeah. We noticed they were having a drink, and we thought, flay-hook appendages or no, anybody who enjoys a good drink can’t be all bad… and before you know it, we’re getting drunk with a platoon of Flesh-flayers (they prefer to be called the Zygothi, by the way). The local stuff tastes like windex and farts, but boy does it get your buzz on! Long story short, though, you gotta stop killing stuff and go away. You know those things with all the legs and teeth you’ve been so frightened of are just their pets? They’re actually kind of cute as long as they’ve eaten recently. Anyway, turns out you’re in violation of several of this star system’s regulations. Plus, you destroyed a communication probe and attacked an in-system moon ferry, damages were sustained to sensitive ecosystems at your landing sites… We gave what you paid us to the families of the moon ferry victims, and volunteered to stay and see that you follow proper exit procedures. Oh, and we’re going to need you to sign this receipt of the cease and desist declaration, this copy of the bill – here, this copy is yours – and this agreement for an immediate cease contact which you’ll notice has an exclusion for payment communications you’ll have to initial, here, and again here.”
Humans are every alignment, on a single 9-sided die. Good luck aliens
See the human. See the human bond. See the human make rules. See the human break them left, right, and center.
EXCELLENT QUESTION and this post exhibits why so nicely I was thinking about it even before I read your tags – because this is science fiction at its finest: put human nature down in front of a spectacular, unfamiliar backdrop with a character who can function alternately as chorus, straight man, interlocutor, devil’s advocate, or wingman, and suddenly we can see ourselves clearly, in all our messy, contradictory glory. We love ourselves, we love getting to know ourselves, and there’s no better way to do that than put Kirk and Spock together on an alien planet and give them a fight and a few minutes to talk between blows.
To a telepathic race, Humans would be terrifying, borderline psychotic, monsters.
Let’s start with “Intrusive Thoughts”. You ever been walking alone and wonder what would it would be like to jump off the bridge, or leap into traffic, or just punch a random person? Those are intrusive thoughts and everyone has them but most sane people never act on them. They’re still there but we know to ignore them.
To a telepathic species, these random urges that cross our brains would seem like humans are constantly on the verge or violent and self destructive acts and some unknown force holds us back.
Second, let’s take into account grudges, dark imaginings and just general seething anger.
Recent events in my own life have taught me there is always one person in any group of people who is so stressed by the little things at least one other person is doing that they wish they could strike out. Hit them, shout at them, swear like a sailor, or destroy their stuff. I know because, apparently, I’m that person. But I hold it in and tolerate and say nothing to maintain the peace.
To a telepathic species we would seem like barely in control psychopaths who are waiting for this moment to snap.
Finally there’s “compartmentalisation” our ability to separate our thoughts and our feelings. We can go through such a stressful time at work, school, or other places, and we want to quit, want to leave it all behind, quit, storm out etc. Adults can wake up in the morning hating that they have to go into a job they don’t like, but once their out of the job at the end of the day, once we’re away from that place, everything is fine. Because those problems are “work” or “school” problems and not part of our outside life.
To telepathic creatures we would be schizophrenic sociopaths. Or masochists, because despite our apparent hate of or jobs we keep going back.
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They weren’t counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30 km/h (19 mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800 lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, it’s too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
“Hippopotamus.”
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinned
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking “it’s fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. We’ll be fine.”
And at first you are, you’ve learned how to dodge. You’ve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. You’re in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded “hippos” around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. It’s musky and slightly foul. It’s the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but it’s too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. It’s between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadn’t noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
“Badger.” they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
“Our vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-”
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
“That’s called a moose.”
Wolverines.
Also.. dolphins.
The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planet’s flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivors’ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.
You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai’kor. Commander Vura’ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that… thing you encountered…
When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the ship’s air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.
And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyone’s nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horror’s spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didn’t seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.
Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.
“The humans did say it was “grape” juice that removed “skunk” stench, right?“
Every night.
It came for someone almost every night.
Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight. They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved. Sometimes they’d find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again.
What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror. Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather. It had fangs as long as his grasping digits. Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity. And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.
Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it.
The earth natives called the monster a leopard.
It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge. Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster.
But rumor was that there was worse on this planet. Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.
A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity. While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out. This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.
“We’ve been through this,” Group Leader 455 snapped. “The dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planet’s hellbeasts. And these are domesticated. Harmless.”
The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they don’t want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but can’t quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent. “The name of this species,” she pointed out, “is synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.” Well, one language out of several thousand—these creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on record—but there was no point in confusing the rank and file.
More not-quite-looking. 455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner. “That one,” she decided. “Alone in the separate pasture. Scans suggest that it’s a male, which means it’s probably weaker. Possibly it’s kept isolated so that the females don’t eat it before mating season. And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but you’re still soldiers of the Imperium. This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.”
I’m enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for size…
It was a strange creature Tar’van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as ‘Australia’.
“I would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.” Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. “If you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.” To this day Tar’van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.
The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar’van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.
Another moment Tar’van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an ‘Emu’
“Don’t feel too bad,” the prisioner mocked. “We lost a war to the Emu’s as well.”
Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar’van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of ‘Zookeeper’ after all.
The ‘Zookeeper’ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.
“It’s a kangaroo, leave it be and you’ll be fine.” Tar’van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.
“That creature cannot possibly harm us.” Tar’van’s squadleader protests. “It is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back it’s head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.”
The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.
“Fucking do it mate, I dare ya.” The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called ‘Kangaroo’.
“This will be unpleasant.” A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The ‘Kangaroo’ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.
Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar’van is the squads leader now.
“I don’t know what they expected.” the human says, smugness filling their tone. “Kangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.”
Tar’van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar’van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.
“Please,” Tar’van bags. “Get us back safely.”
@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus? Why was it necessary?
oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.
(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)
They had faced Emu’s. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.
Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. “Cassowary…” They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.
The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar’van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar’van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was “Its spring…. Magpie season…”
“Listen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!”
“Excuse me,” the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squad’s cheers die on their lips. “This is Japan. You haven’t seen what–”
“Silence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!”
The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.
In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.
But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squad’s medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldier’s armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects aren’t even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldier’s body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.
Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. “Japanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.”
“How?” You ask. “How has your species dominated this planet?”
The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you can’t help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)
“Persistence and ingenuity.” The human answers, still smiling.
It doesn’t matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet.
“And scattered about it … were the Martians–dead!–slain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all man’s devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.”
– HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898
I’m picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.
I think at that point they’d just give up.
Or fire ants
No one even MENTIONED snakes yet…
This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.
“Let us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionship”
“Is that a miniature tiger?”
“Why does this human own a small pack of wolves?”
The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them.
“Oh, you mean dogs? Yeah, they’re the only animals that can keep up with us.”
The aliens look at each other in fear. “What do you mean?”
“Oh well that’s why you guys ‘won’ is because humans aren’t super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?”
“Uh… okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?”
“Omg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)”
The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.
Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.
The aliens have sophisticated technology which pretty much allows them to live underwater, which is something even the inventive humans have never managed. Submarines have nothing on alien submersion pods, which can withstand the crushing pressures of even the darkest depths of the oceans and seas.
The aliens aren’t expecting any difficulties with their underwater expeditions. Of course, that’s when four of the life signs on the central screen simply vanish, like they’d never been there.
Alpha turns on the direct communication lines to the remaining submersion pods, and the only thing they hear through the tinny speakers is screaming.
Alpha resists the urge to turn and stare at the shackled human standing behind them, but Beta, Gamma and Theta have no such compunctions.
The human shrugs. “I mean, we’ve never really been down there so we’re not entire sure, but we’ve heard stories of giant squids and stuff. No smoke without fire, and all that.”
“There can be neither smoke nor fire underwater, human, cease your prattling.”
The human snorts. “It’s a phrase. A metaphor? Man, I don’t know, I studied marine biology, not literature.”
The human is unable to tell them anything useful about what might have happened to the submersion pods, but retrieved footage later shows tentacled behemoths snaking out of the depths of disturbed silt and cold water, and crushing the submersion pods effortlessly, in full view of the outer-hull cameras. The monsters have giant beaks which rip through the organic alloy sheets, and into the bodies of the pod pilots within.
The outer-hull cameras register the blue of fresh spilled blood and gore, at the same time the on-board cameras register screaming and the red glow of critical power failure.
The last thing the aliens can see on the retrieved footage is thin, long, snakelike creatures appearing out of the darkness and gloom, creating their own light and descending upon the remains of their brethren. They are accompanied by creatures that look like plastic bags, but which feed upon the toxic remains of the organic alloy of which the pods were made.
The human appears completely nonchalant – there is no love lost between slave and master. “Wait till you see sharks.”
Every time it gets better
this is my take two, and i fucking love this post.
Dihesil cautiously followed their leader onto the terrain. It is rough, though patches here and there are slick and glassy. Their human guide is terrified. It strains against the soldiers holding it, muttering frantically under its breath. “We’re gonna die, we’re gonna fucking die.” Squad leader Tarhsis seems unconcerned. As the small group approached the top of the sloping terrain, a slight rumble shook the ground. The human yelped and struggled worse than ever, and the guards scowled and lifted it straight off the ground to carry it along. “Please!” The human cried. “We have to retreat now, if any of us wants to survive! Please, I’m a geologist, I know what’s happening! We’ll be killed!” Tarhsis laughed. “Silly human. Your fellows have tricked us before, and we will not be tricked again.” They pointed toward the top. “Advance.” “No!!” The human kicked its guards in the loikinin glands and ran, the two soldiers left coughing and wheezing. Dihesil reluctantly raised their blaster to strike the human down, but Tarhsis stopped them. “There’s nowhere for it to run. We have camps down there, and we’ll punish it properly after we’re done here.” The squad had taken only another two paces when the ground rocked beneath their feet and threw them down. A horrible gasping roar began at the top of the incline, and bright orange liquid spilled out. The heat slapped Dihesil in the face, making them realize that perhaps the human had been right to flee. In the end, only Dihesil made it back to the sip and to the camps in time to warn the others. The human who had run shook its head as it saw the burns lacing Dihesil’s body. “I told you so.”
~~~~~
Yunor had been on the first ship to land on the island chain, and had seen their good friend die at the hands of something the Terran had called “Japanese honeybees.” It made them furious that such a small creature could kill their friend. Now, they swore to explore these islands and discover, conquer, and catalogue all of its deadly features.
Their three hundred and twenty-second day began quite well. They were off to investigate the water creatures that lived around the islands. Curiously enough, no rogue Terrans were on the beaches, nor were there any complicit guides on recreation. They greeted one of their other friends cheerily, then began combing the beach for creatures.
An hour after arriving, Yunor had been pinched by several “crabs,” and was becoming irritated. A tremor ran through the sand, strong enough to knock them off balance. It continued for several seconds, then ceased. They picked themself up and laughed, returning to the search. The ocean seemed to recede as he walked towards it, further than normal, and far out, it was rising into a massive wall of water. The sea approached fast, growing larger and larger as it came, and Yunor gasped, tried to run, but too late—
“A what?” Piklono shook the bars of the Terran cage. “What was it?”
“A tsunami,” one Terran said.
Another shook its head. “We told all of you not to go out today.”
“You want to go out now? After a fuckin’ snow storm?”
“We’d like to get this over as quickly as possible human.” It was true. This human country, Canada was it? Was large and cold.
It took far too long to get ready and the vast expanse of it made exploring the country difficult. This and Russia had very little volunteers for these exact reasons.
“Fine then, I guess. If you wanna get frostbite and amputate a toe or three than who am i to judge eh? Lead the way.”
The human rolled his eyes but remained compliant. Good. Retily wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
He did not like the cold or the way his comrades appendages would turn black in it.
——–
“Human hurry up!” Squad leader Fargin yelled, brandishing his prod to help move the human along. The human, whose name was Michael he found out from his collar, stood at the end stiff.
“Don’t-, Don’t fucking move guys.” The human, or Michael really, hissed.
Only then did Retily notice his eyes were much larger than normal. Was the human experiencing the so called frostbite it talked about? Than why was he staring off into the distance at that certain spot?
“Hey uh, Fargin i think i just saw something move?” Comrade Yurien said, staring at the same spot the human was.
Huffing Squad leader Fargin brought out his binoculars and looked where the two were. A small excited noise came from the back of his throat as he brought his binoculars down.
“Ah Human! No need to fret. It is simply an albino version of a black bear. Do not worry i shall take care of it immediately!”
What was meant to be reassuring sentence, and one of Fargin showing off his might, made the human pale considerably. He took a step back and dread filled his face.
“No fuck we need to-, we need to get out of here immediately. It ain’t safe. Just-. oh fuck oh fuck” The human seemed afraid of whatever this thing was. And if the human seemed afraid than Retily didn’t think it was smart to go after whatever it was.
“Pull yourself together human!” Fargin said, “Yurien and Mastive come with me. We shall dispense of this creature at once!”
The three set off towards the animal and each step they took made the human shrink behind Retily. It was all going so well but then the animal turned around and attacked.
Yurien was the first to go, with a bite to the neck and claw marks to the chest he bled out immediately. Fargin came right after, his screams echoing around the frozen tundra. Mastive however made a mistake.
Mastive ran.
The bear chased after him and in the distance they could hear loud screams of pain. The bear had caught up to him it seemed.
“Wha-, what was that?” Retily asked, immediately turning towards the human.
“A polar bear. Largest, most vicious, bear of bears and we’re fuckin’ lucky it didn’t notice us.” The human replied, still shaking and pale.
“Why?”
“Because” The human started slowly, disbelief crossing his face at the thought of still being alive “It hunts humans.”
They trudged through the musky swamp, the humid air sticky, their clothes sticking to their skin due to the sweat, even though it was nighttime.
“Human, where are we now?” asked Kron, the general. The human, Josh, who didn’t even seem fazed by the heat, answered, “This is Florida.”
A few soldiers had already been killed off to panthers and black bears, so the remaining decided it’d be best to travel at night when the wildlife were asleep. Before, there had been a total of twenty soldiers. Now there were only six.
Something brushed against Neerin, causing him to yelp, only to realize it was moss dangling from a tree. The stems reminded him too much of jellyfish tentacles that they had encountered earlier, causing him to shudder as he scratched at the stings on his legs.
As they continued trekking deeper into the swamp, the water became less shallow until they were no longer wading and had to swim instead. The faint sound of ducks quacking in the distance was almost a relief to listen to. At least they’d have food if they needed to stop for the rest of the night.
Suddenly, there was noise.
Everyone stopped, asking each other if they all heard the same thing. They scanned the area, but it was too dark to see. Thinking it was probably a fish, they resumed their trail. Surely nothing would attack them at night on water, right?
Then, there was the noise again, only it was closer and sounded like a low rumble.
Everyone paused. Something was stalking them. But what?
“Oh shit,” Josh whispered in horror. “Human, what is that noise we just heard?!” Kron demanded. “I recognize that sound anywhere, I heard it before while I was kayaking,” by now, Josh’s voice sounded panicked. Kron grew impatient, “Well? What is it?!”
Josh gulped, “Its an alligator.”
Before Kron could ask what this ‘alligator’ is, one of his soldiers let out a bloodcurdling scream as something dragged him beneath the water. Everyone looked around frantically, calling out his name, when a dismembered leg with a noticeable bite mark floated up.
All soldiers froze in shock when the creature resurfaced, baring its rows of bloodied teeth lining the inside of its elongated snout in rows, hissing as it swam closer.
“SWIM AWAY!”
Everyone scattered, frantically swimming as fast as they could. Unfortunately, the ruckus only attracted more alligators, which were faster and bigger. There was no hope for survival.
Kron hadn’t even noticed Josh escaped, paralyzed as he watched his army be dragged underwater, the sounds of agonizing screams and the snapping of jaws as the gators devoured them.
Then, he heard it. The guttural growl as one approached him. Even in the dark, the reptilian creature looked like it was… Smiling. Sadistic and hungry.
Grabbing a nearby stick floating in the water, Kron tried swatting at the carnivore, only for it to bite the wood in half and clamp its teeth into his arm. Kron screamed in pain, tugging at his arm in a panicked frenzy. The gator was relentless, only biting down harder with each pull until Kron’s arm ripped off, the remaining swallowed whole by the beast.
Tears and snot ran down Kron’s face, stumbling backwards as the gator swam towards him again. When he was able to think rationally, Kron pulled out his combat knife and aimed for the reptile’s back, but the blade didn’t even penetrate through its skin, like it was made of its own scaly armor.
There was that dreadful hissing noise again, only this time it was behind him. Then all around him. Kron was surrounded by the alligators who had finished off his men and were now focused on him for their last meal.
Kron whimpered in defeat and all the gators pounced on him at once, above and below the water. His limbs ripped off and chunks of flesh torn out of his body, the water turned red with blood, his screams echoing in the marsh as the alligators ate him alive.
None of the aliens survived. Only Josh the human.
“Good thing I’m a native Floridian,” Josh laughed in relief when he was finally out of the swamp, “otherwise I never would’ve recognized the growl of a gator.”
If you’re a native Floridian, you know to stay away from swimming (or even wading) in the swamps at night at all. Namely because gators are fucking everywhere. There’s actually a saying about how common they are. “if there’s a puddle, there’s a gator.”
Despite the best efforts of everyone involved, something truly nasty escaped Earth. They call it giardia, a microscopic organism that their Planetary Protection Officer called “pretty dumb” and “not too bad, really, a week of digestive upset and then it’s over.”
Yes, Earth has a Planetary Protection Officer. They have a Planetary Protection Office, and have had one since they were sending probes around their own solar system. Doctor Ma-et had found it a bit silly, like a child concerned about the cleanliness of their toys, until she learned that the job of the Planetary Protection Office had always been protecting other worlds from Earth.
So a lot of ‘Humans are weird/space orcs’ posts always say that humans are ‘apex predators’, but really we’re not.
We’re a 2.2 on the food chain (highest is 5). To put that into perspective about a pig or an anchovy. Yeah.
So imagine aliens thinking that well obviously humans must be the apex predators of Earth, after all they’re so advanced, use pursuit as a form of attack and have high pain tolerance etc etc.
But they find out that we aren’t. We literally just said “fuck you food chain” and rose above our standing. Imagine how aliens would react to that.
andtheytoldustotellyouhello 