[WP] Despite being peaceful, humans are universally feared through out the galaxy as harbingers of death. They are hosts to the most dangerous diseases and bacteria ever discovered. Average number of fatalities from a single human exposure is ~8,000 with some exceptions. Avoid at all costs.
As the stars flew idly by the viewscreen, Gryxnecht lolled lazily in his gravity harness. The usual sights in Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha had long ago become stale like a loaf of H’Cherft that was left out for too long. He eyed the status panel and seeing that it was not actively blinking, decided a snooze was in order. Transporting cargo across the spiral arms of the galaxy was tiring work after all.
Alarms awoke Gryxnecht. How long had they been going off? He was faintly aware of them during his dream state but the realization that an emergency was happening only dawned on him after he wiped the crust from his eye stalks.
~Commander Gryxnecht, a vessel has interfaced with our docking unit.~, the garbled mechanical voice reverberated in his mind.
A vessel? Docked? None of this made any sense. He was light years from any major thoroughfares and no one came here anymore, not for at least a few millennia. Gryx deactivated the photonic harness holding him in place, silenced the alarm, and writhed out the control room.
Slithering down the corridor, he was unsure of what to expect. Was it Vex’Thal pirates? No, they shoot first and board later. It must be a random company inspection. Gryx had previously been audited about how he had managed to deliver freight faster than any of his competitors and he had been mum about his routes. The company must have tailed him here and wanted to make sure he wasn’t dumping cargo or selling it off to another client.
The sight of them struck him dumb for a moment. Some bipedal thing climbed out of the docking hatch. It appeared to be wearing a suit, as the multitude of surfaces and facets did not look organic. The top of the thing was a spherical dome with a metallo-reflective surface. These were not any sentient life-forms that were a part of the Argonus Galactic Confederation of Species. Standing straight, the entity bared 2 lower appendages and 2 upper appendages, the upper two sprouting 5 more smaller appendages at the ends.
More than a little apprehensive, Gryxnecht moved slowly towards the being. It did not appear to be making any hostile movements, other than waving one of its upper appendages slowly back and forth.
~You have boarded a private cargo vessel. State your business and intentions.~. Gryx couldn’t sense where the entities receiving node was located. The layers of this beings outerware must be interfering with it.
The biped reached to his side and brought up a black box, apparently jabbing at some interface that Gryx could only guess at. A moment later the box vibrated, ~Hello, We come in Peace~
That’s a relief.
The newcomer used both his upper appendages to reach up over his dome-shaped mask and unlatched whatever mechanism that was holding it in place and began to lift it off. A protective suit… ~I knew it~. But the sense of ease and understanding was rapidly replaced with renewed shock and then abject horror.
As the dome was removed, Gryx could see the organism for what it really was. As a larval youngling, caretakers would scare them with stories of beings that emitted horrible wavelengths that caused your brains to explode. Screechers.
Turning, Gryxnecht wanted to put as many walls between him and those creatures as possible. This could not be happening, those things were just fairy tales told to scare younglings. He made for the door but it was too late. He reeled as the wavelengths passed through his receiving node. As they bounced and echoed inside the fluid chamber that held it, striking the node again and again. A blinding and thunderous pain that caused violent spasms of his eye stalks and tentacles. Gryx fell to the bulkhead floor, his brain having been vibrated to paste and his fluids leaking out of him.
Captain Alexander Heart was stunned by the amount of gore that spewed from this alien creature. He had used the communication device that NASA gave him. Something about the aliens only being able to communicate in ultra-low wavelengths. The words of greetings fresh on his lips… he now bit them.
Turning to Lieutenant Dale Kargrove, who was climbing out of the hatch behind him, Alex asked, “Was it something I said?”
"Humans aren't peaceful, though," said Arin. "What idiot ever thought that was true?"
The human base camp loomed like a row of missile silos in front of them, the glass panes of the interconnecting walkways catching the sun. Arin was cocooned in a hazmat suit of polyethelene fibers, the low hiss of his breathing apparatus whispering death in his ears. From inside its protective bubble, the pale green Tellurian ballooned softly, extending inquisitive tendrils at Arin's remark.
"That's not meant as a slur on humans," Arin said. All around them there was life, delicate alien life, from the thriving microbial colonies in the soil to the towering sporangial psuedo-fronds of a clade yet uncategorized by humanity. The human camp sat like a time bomb in their midst. "No species is peaceful. Violence is inherent to sentient life. Competition. Except for maybe the Kapelli?" Arin frowned. "They're a gaseous species without limbs or really any form of locomotion other than wind currents. You could suffocate on them, I suppose. And they can allegedly be very cruel towards each other. No one really understands Kapelli insults, though."
The Tellurian tweaked the sensors in its bubble, flowing outward like mist, and the crude translator crackled to life. "Humans. No. Hurt. Not. Intentional."
"Intent, sure," said Arin bitterly, and sat down, fingers digging into the soil. "No culture acts with the intent of causing suffering. It's always a side-effect, an unfortunate reality of the process. They want exploration, they want understanding, they want conquest. They want a little living space. They want to bring the natives to god and save their immortal souls. And surprise, surprise, no matter the reason, people keep dying."
"Humans. Do. Best," the Tellurian said, its translator struggling to keep up. It pressed against the transparent plastic. "Seek. Peace. Always. Do. Study. How. Not. To. Hurt."
"But that's part of the process, isn't it?" Arin said. "How do you study something without disrupting it? Without - without imposing on it?" He chuckled. "Humans couldn't even figure how do that with each other. They'd cross the seas and find another branch of themselves, so incomprehensibly foreign. Even if we're ignoring all the stories of conquest, of -" he crooked two fingers on each hand and pronounced the word with a sneer. "-'civilization,' we're left with anthropological curiosities, material for museums and documentaries. We're left with isolated tribes being preserved in a bubble even as the environments around them are razed away and paved over. Either you incorporate them into the vast global community - and in so doing, do an irreversible violence to them - or you resign them to inconsequential reservations. There's no way out!"
Arin glanced down at the Tellurian. His rant was being translated into electrical currents, run through the Tellurian's body in an attempt at communication, and it writhed in something that might or might not have been pain. The translator buzzed static, not coming up with a response.
"We want to believe," Arin said softly, "that deep down we're all essentially the same, that sentience is somehow this universal uniting factor and that we can all appreciate and respect each others' differences and we can all just get along." He looked down at his gloved hands, and imagined the skin beneath them, and the blood and bone and cells beyond that, until he was composed of nothing but teeming viral hostilities. "But that's not true, is it?"
The Tellurian twisted in on itself and choked out incomprehensible static songs.
"We breathe and people die. We arrive on a new shore, teeming with life, and people die from the exposure. We're viral. We're bacterial. We're inimical to foreign life. We're - we're a culture," Arin said, his voice growing desperate. "We're ideology and language, we're science and engineering, we're politics and we're art. We're consciousness! We see the world and we struggle to understand it, we force it to make sense to us, because that's how we survive. And then we meet something totally foreign, totally alien, and we try our best to understand, and then - and then -" Arin let his hands fall. "Do you know how long it took us to even realize the Kapelli were alive?" he said. "Do you know how many of them we killed before we figured it out?"
"Thousands," said the Tellurian, its electronic voice coalescing back into words. "Tragedy. But. Not. To. Blame. Did. Your. Best."
"You're right," said Arin, and looked at the cleared patch of land the base camp was built on, the telltale signs of machinery that had cleared it, the buildings containing evidence of a hundred unintentional genocides. He spoke, and another electrical shock ran through the Tellurian's frame. "We do our best."
Jesus Christ, imagine what would happen if that thing got hit by a shockwave, or the sound of a bullet going off.
Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha
I see you
“Sir, this is the newest report about them. They’ve reached the next evolutionary step, they are in space.” - said the colonel.
The admiral was really concerned. Although you couldn’t tell. His face was always the same, showed no emotion at all. He was the best among the bests. He was the leader of a small colony in this deserted moon. The coalition appointed him to this role since he was the most experienced in the research of alien life-forms, especially when we are talking about such a hostile one like this.
“How much time do we have till they have the technology to get here too?” - asked the admiral.
“It’s hard to tell. They are competing with each other really hard which pushing them to achieve great success. They don’t care that they have only limited resources either. I still don’t understand these “humans”. Since the accident 14 Earth-years ago...”
“Enough! How much?”
“Maybe 20 Earth-years, maybe even less.”
The admiral turned back to the screens and started to think what he could do. He started to dislike the humans even based on their pure existence. He’s met with 2000 thousand alien life-forms so far in his carrier, but this one was the most challenging. He lost 60% of his crew since the beginning of the mission. Diseases, viruses they have everything on that planet what they call Earth. He doesn’t even understand how it is possible to live among such a dangerous conditions. Once they’ve tried to contact with them and that resulted in an “accident”. At least the official report said that like it is possible to crash such a highly sophisticated space-ship. He knew the truth was horrible than that but couldn’t do anything it was against the rules of the coalition. Eventually he decided to cut every ties with the planet and move a little bit farther away to watch them from a safe distance.
“Colonel! Send the report that we need to start preparing the evacuation plan of this Solar-system, possible the whole galaxy. Make it happen within 5 Earth-years. I don’t trust these humans..”
“Yes, Sir!” - answered the colonel and left the room.
8 Earth-years later..
“Sir, they have left their Planet’s atmosphere. Their spaceship is getting closer. It is time for us to go.”
“Everyone else got out of the Solar-system, you should go also. I’m going to stay here with one ship. I want to see them one more time. I’m going to use our camouflage so they will not notice me.” - said the admiral and he walked out of the room.
He saw the humans’ machine landing on the surface and was amazed. He watched them, they seemed so peaceful but he knew the truth. The machine’s door opened and one of them climbed down on the ladder. He heard him say:
“This is a small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”.
Humans always dealt with plague by burning the bodies, and houses.
Why should we think other intelligent species would be any different? It has been protocol on newly discovered planets to nuke settlements at the first sight of diseases we could not treat.
Humanity's first contact with an intelligent species went uneventful. Trade of knowledge, culture, weaponry, and an introduction to the Confederation. Our second contact did not go so well. It turns out, the Toblerians had a physiology different enough to make them immune to human diseases. They were the exception.
The first Human delegates to the Confederation were expelled out an airlock, but it was too late. The leaders of the Confederation were killed, factions took that as an opportunity to rebel, and it took nearly 100 years for the Confederation to even return to 75% of its pre-Human power. They have decided that now it was time to deal with the Human problem.
The Confederation subjected the outer Human colonies to the initial bombardment. Their nuclear weapons made standard human weaponry look like a firecracker. One bomb and a whole hemisphere is wiped out.
They offered to let humans return to the Sol System. We refused. The war went our way for a while, having Toblerians on our side, as well as a few more who were immune and saw the opportunity to destroy the Confederation once and for all. Biological attacks involved dropping humans onto key worlds. But the technological difference was too much. The Toblerians no longer exist.
The Confederation was able to expand and consolidate power during the war because of the omnipresent threat of Humanity. Soon, there was nothing left but Earth.
The moon was purged, mars a radioactive wasteland, and not a single satellite left in orbit.
Fire of the Gods.
It was always said that fire sparked humanity, ironic that it will now be the destruction of all of human civilization.
Just three bombs, and the fires will purge humans from the universe.
Yes, mind blowing indeed.
This is mind blowing! More please.
Wow. This was really profound.
“Captain's log 2449. Approximately two hours ago Communications Officer Ventron discovered a series of deep space com signal coming from a previously unexplored part of the galaxy. Upon further inspection of the signals Ventron was able to confirm our suspicions that they are from an undiscovered alien race. I’ve set Ventron to the task of deciphering the language with the help of our on board linguistics specialist, we are currently on course for that region of space and are due to arrive in approximately six standard days. I will send this and all further reports concerning this matter directly to the Department of Inter-species Relations. Captain Griktol out.”
“High Councilmen Dranlon’s official log number three hundred and six. I am scheduled to meet with the Terran representative in eight hours, this will be the third the Terrans have met with an Association representative. We will be me- Xilma this is ridiculous, I know why I’m meeting with the Terrans and so does whoever is listening to this asinine recording because I bloody stated it in the last sixteen logs. Algoth you know it’s regulation, being the High Councilmen of the Association comes with a lot of repetitive tasks you knew that when you accepted the position. Eugh fine whatever, My goal i- did you just roll your eyes at me? You may be the High Councilmen, but I have been Aide to the High Councilmen since long before you were brought into this galaxy. Ahhh, you’re right, as usual, I’m sorry Xilma. Can I continue now? I would hope you could. As I was saying. We will be meeting on Captain Griktol’s ship as they are already familiar with it, well that and the fact they also requested it. My goal is to negotiate a transfer of information as a sign of friendship. Hopefully in the long term this will lead to trade agreements and potentially even a military defense agreement. I will be bringing a Quie with me to act as translator. I will update this log after the meeting takes place.
Log amendment one. I believe that went relatively well. We agreed to a transfer of cultural information, and I will be meeting with Ambassador Diya again in one week's time. Anything else Xilma, I’ve got a headache and would like to go lay down for a bit. Yes, what was your first impressions of the Terrans? Ugh, um. Considering we already have a few other species similar to the Terrans in the Association they weren’t too foreign, though I will admit the constant sniffing was slightly annoying. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go to sleep!”
“Head Coroner Jivadi’s log thirty six ninety three. The first look at the cadaver shows severe bleeding from all orifices, hundreds of cysts cover the body. I’m now making my first incision at the base of the neck where the glands seem heavily inflamed. It looks like there are numerous cysts on the inside of the body aswell, god the pain the High Councilmen must of been in is unimaginable. I’m going to cut open one of the inner cysts n- oh well that’s interesting. They contain a green gel like substance that is melting my medical tools, I’m going to go send some of these cysts away to be analysed, along with samples of the blood and saliva. I’ll continue the autopsy shortly.”
“Hello, I’m Trix Delvonian head of the Tourism Bureau and I need your help! A new species called Terrans has recently been discovered and we need people who can help organise and facilitate safe, exciting, and interesting tours of Association planets. We also have some exciting opportunities coming up that involve traveling to Terran worlds, experiencing their culture and documenting your experience there! If you’re interested in either of these exciting new possibilities please contact the Tourism Bureau today!”
Director Alogran: “Alright I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumours going around about this new plague, unfortunately I’m here to confirm them.” General Dranop: How has it taken this long for a meeting to happen, from what I’ve been hearing this is verging on a class Zeta outbreak.” High Councilwoman Salidra: “ Don’t be ridiculous, there hasn’t been a class Zeta disease in over fifty thousand years” Director Alogran: “No, not ridiculous. It’s class Zeta. Though we can’t pinpoint where it originated from.” Chief Biologist Zona: “ The biggest problem is that we don’t know which species are susceptible to it. Not everyone that encounters it seems to be infected.” High Councilwoman Salidra: “When was the first documented case?” Director Alogran: “As far as we can tell it was High Councilmen Dranlon.” General Dranop: “Have we spoken to the Terrans about this? Could it be a biological attack?” High Councilwoman Salidra: “No not yet, that’s highly unlikely General Dranop. The Terrans have been nothing but helpful, they’ve shown absolutely no signs of animosity.” Chief Biologist Zona: “I agree with the High Councilwoman, I also don’t think they’re advanced enough technologically to create such a damaging bioweapon.” General Dranop: “Do we have a plan then? What’s our next step, how do we quarantine something we can’t detect?” Director Alogran: “The purpose of this meet was just to confirm the rumors, I have set up several task forces dedicated to finding a solution. I suggest you all do the same, in the meantime all we can do is wait.”N/L
Edit: Spelling. Also I've not tried writing in this style before so feedback would be appreciated :)
Toblerians of the planet
I couldn't help but imagine playing right after the last line.
Actually yes. I needed a name, looked up, saw my roommates block of toblerone, and used it.