"I'll admit my species reproduce asexually so my mind jumped to the wrong idea" the Taro said to his Tregear

"Yeah sometimes it can be stupid to look at what humans call 'dark humour' but other times it's genuinely hilarious" Tregear said chuckling

Unlike any other species, humans never seem to feel strained or exerted while they do it.

Fearless is a title that was bestowed upon mankind for their valor and bravery in times of emergency or conflict. It was a fundamental truth of the universe that a human could not be subjected to the effects of fear and dread, at the very least not outwardly visible.

Unfortunately their stoic image was shattered into humorous brittle shards when an innocuous event unrelated to and far away from conflict found its way onto the galactic net. The video itself was removed as quickly as it was uploaded, but it was already far too late. Although details have been warped from word of mouth, what remains fact was a human was being filmed for something, a small creature known as a spider on Earth made its way into view, the human saw it, and all hell broke loose, to use a favorite human phrase

Needless to say, many a harmless prank was pulled on the formerly stoic humans, and when the pranksters were asked if the consequences mattered, they responded without fail, "Worth it."

Art by me.

Human: "I really dont understand where your Problem is! You requested a Cruiser Escort, and you got a Cruiser Escort!"

Alien: "Your "CrUiSeR" is half the Size of my Destroyer!"

Human: \shrugs** "It's got a Heavy Ship Main Battery Gun, so its a Cruiser."

Alien: "No! It doesn't have a Gun, it is a Gun you slapped some Engines and a Bridge onto!"

Human: "Take that back! Its has a Hull. Just a comparatively small one."

Alien: "So lets say you have a Battleship Hull, with all that entails, armor and everything, and refit it with Destroyer Guns..."

Human: "You mean like a Mega-Destroyer?"

Alien: "AHHHR~"

Alien: we need to analyze this artifact to prevent it from unraveling the galaxy!
Human: Or we could try hitting it with a rock!
Alien: Looks over, speechless
Human: Holding a fist sized rock What?

A Diplomatic envoy, continues "As you know this is insane! We had to fight a 20 generation spanning war to finally be free, at one point we were in the low thousands. If we hadn't had aide from the Galactic federation at that time, we would be gone, like so many others did succumb."

Theirs, killed off a few billion, then loved the rest like family. Their AI is their God and best friend. They love to communicate. If you cross them, their AI will destroy you. Human’s try to restrain it but can't. Plus Human’s themselves are Alfa, one prime. They are naturally super warriors. But due to being so safe they have become traders and entertainers.

How did this happen? It can't be because they like to be polite lol!! ?

How do we deal with this?

The collector changed course for an obstacle that wasn't there.

Daniel Hayes replayed the telemetry. For four hours the alien machine had followed its predicted track. Then it moved eight kilometers off course, right where the human probe had placed a false return.

"Could be routine navigation," said James, across the table.
"Could be. Send the second trial."
"We already did."

Hayes checked the timestamp. The data was nineteen minutes old. The probe had completed both trials before Earth even saw the first result.
The second had worked too.

Six months earlier, nobody would have called the little spacecraft important. It was an aging solar-observation probe with a failing spectrometer, a good optical transponder and enough propellant for a few more course changes. Its original owners had been preparing to retire it.
Then the objects arrived.

Within weeks, space agencies around the world were sending hardware inward. Some spacecraft were purpose-built, most weren't. Universities stripped experiments from waiting rockets to make room for cameras and radiation shields. Military launch vehicles carried civilian payloads. Anything capable of reaching a useful solar orbit was sent, even if nobody could say what it would do when it got there.
Most of those probes were still in transit. A few would never arrive. Hayes's spacecraft had already been working near the Sun when humanity discovered it had visitors, which made it precious.
They hadn't cracked an alien code. They couldn't even read the messages passing between nearby machines. The probe had recorded a recurring optical scan, though, and its onboard software was fast enough to return a carefully delayed echo. From the collector's point of view, something solid seemed to be crossing its path.
The first test had failed. The next two had caused deviations.

"That's three trials on one collector," Patel said. "Don't put 'we can steer the swarm' in the report."
"I wasn't going to."
"You wrote 'first successful intervention' in the draft."
"It is."

General Mercer joined by video an hour later. He watched the track change, then asked whether they could use the trick to protect Earth's share of sunlight.

"Not from here," Hayes said. "We'd need transmitters at the right places, at the right times, and enough of them to keep doing it. We don't have that."
"How many do we have?"
"One that we know works. There are twelve more on their way in, depending on whether they survive the trip."

Mercer stared at the map. Twelve human probes against an industrial system whose collectors were already too numerous to count.
"Then we'd better keep that one alive."
By the time the second experiment's full data reached Earth, the solar deficit was estimated at 0.067 percent.

The probe noticed the service craft first.
Eleven hours after the experiment, it recorded an unfamiliar optical pattern from the collector. A maintenance unit repeated the signal. Another answered. The onboard classifier logged all three as unknown traffic.

Hayes's team could identify some ordinary transmission patterns: course changes, proximity warnings, the periodic exchanges that happened during resource transfers. They were guesses supported by timing and observation. No one had translated a sentence of alien language.
The new pattern was different.
The maintenance unit left its station and moved through the place where the false obstacle had appeared. It scanned empty space for forty-six minutes.

"Inspection?" James offered.
"Looks like it."
"Of the thing we invented."
Hayes didn't answer.

The craft then turned toward the human probe.
Its closing trajectory was clear enough for the probe's navigation software to trigger a preapproved safety routine. It adjusted course and reduced its emissions. The maintenance unit matched the correction.
The human spacecraft changed course again.
So did the other machine.

By the time that telemetry reached Earth, both maneuvers had happened. Nobody in the room could help. The probe was operating on its own, with instructions written by people who had never imagined being pursued by an alien service vehicle.
The next data burst included one image: a dark, jointed machine against the glare of the inner Solar System. It looked uncomfortably like the unit that had dismantled Hermes.
Then came a status packet. The probe reported suspending its optical link.

"Suspended?" Mercer asked.
"The probe's gone quiet," Hayes said. "It may be trying not to give away its position."
"Can we override that?"
"We can send a command. It won't receive it for
another eight minutes."
Mercer looked at the last two plotted trajectories.

Their closest approach was still shrinking.
"Leave it alone," he said.

Hello!

I’m traveling for business, so no update today.

When our ship got hit by the EMP charge, we knew it was over. No system was responding. Most services were off. The only things that kind of worked were the simplest ones, while all computation was burnt to a crisp.

Meanwhile, on the nutrition deck, the only human on the ship was working what he thought was his last shift. For this occasion, he pulled out his hidden alcohol ration and slowly drank it from the cup, holding it like a wine glass.

---

The main engineer of the ship entered the deck to see if there was any working equipment. A bell attached to the door rang when he entered. A stupid trinket the human had insisted on installing. It rang whenever the door made the slightest move.

Sadly, there was no working equipment on the deck. Even worse, the human seemed unresponsive. He didn't answer the engineer and just looked at the door, spinning the liquid in his cup. His gaze seemed hypnotized.

But when the engineer wanted to leave, the human finally made a sound. A primal roar. When the engineer looked at him, he saw not a civilized being but a primal beast from a deathworld. A hunting gaze scanning the surroundings faster than the plantoid engineer could process. A slow but steady walk that had once conquered a lot of planets. And a shout from ancient times that had once shattered space.

"I. HAVE. AN. IDEA!!!"

---

The ship began to move. Bright ribbons were stretched across the halls, attached to makeshift bells in the technical rooms near the engines, so the captain could signal directly what he wanted to be running, and where.

The captain was an experienced tiny avian who knew very well how to fly. But even for him this interface was unusual, so he let two assistants into the cockpit and steered his ship by insulting them twice as much, making them pull the ribbons.

But the main thing happened in the cantina. It was a round room with a domed ceiling, hidden in the center of the ship. And now it was the most crowded space on the ship. Everything and everyone that could move was there. And things that couldn't move but could be carried were held by everyone who could carry them.

---

The gravity generators were off, and like an ancient hunter-gatherer, the human forced everyone to run away from him until they fell dead tired. He ran much slower than he could, but whenever the bell rang in a certain tone, he jumped forward and made the whole flock of his crewmates, including the ship's engineer, turn around and run for their lives, in fear of the long staff the human had made from some pipes from the kitchen.

They ran over the floor. Over the walls. Over the ceiling. And if anyone stopped or lost their grip on the surface, the human caught them with his crooked staff and pulled them toward himself to kick them painfully in what he thought was their butt. The cruelty of the human mind... It gave the dead ship a real gyroscope. Less sensitive than what the captain usually worked with. But much more alive than a set of embers that used to be its navigation system.

---

The engineer and everyone from the crew survived. But from that day on, the plantoid refused to work in space, preferring cheaper but calmer workplaces. Because whenever he heard something at least partially resembling that ancient call... his leaves instantly dried as if it were halfway into autumn.

Despite their feats of exceptional stamina and duration, humans are not machines and still need to rest. It's why they sleep in the first place. It's when they rest outside of that sleep that brings curiosity.

Usually friendly or up for conversation, a human in this state of exhaustion will be reluctantly patient at best, and downright aggressively short tempered at worst.

It has happened enough times that other species have compiled a list of responses they received. Not out of making it a game, even though it has happened out of good fun and no ill will with other humans taking part, but to gauge if the human should be left alone. The responses range from a simple lack of sleep, to something that needs immediate attention or intervention.

Despite how they feel in the moment, humans appreciate the concern.

Art by me.

The problem started right around his fortieth birthday. The guests had all left, leaving him completely alone in his apartment. Suddenly, a dark thought crossed his mind. He wondered if this would be the final year of his life. After all, death can strike at any moment without warning. He whispered this to himself. Then, out of a morbid fascination, he repeated the words out loud.

He loved to explore his deepest fears. It was his way of testing his own ability to face them. He firmly believed that human wit could easily outsmart the laws of nature. Because of this belief, the threat of an early death pushed his imagination to the limit. He had to find a way to cheat it. "Death itself is nothing more than a natural phenomenon," he thought.

Later that night, as he tossed and turned in bed, a brilliant idea hit him. He needed a way to beat the tragic event to the punch. To get ready for it, he would no longer count his life in years. He would track it in days instead. This new system would keep him on guard. It would give him a safer way to measure his remaining time on earth. From that moment on, he kept a daily log of his days. Every night brought a quiet joy. He went to sleep knowing he had won another round.

Every morning he woke up eager to add another digit to his personal survival record. "It won’t catch me off guard. I will always be ready," he muttered. Meanwhile, his eyes scanned the darkest corners of the room. He felt as if the Grim Reaper were crouching right there in the shadows, just waiting to spring an attack.

The counting quickly turned into a full obsession. He constantly checked the passing hours, anxious for nightfall to arrive. The dark brought the proof of his personal victory over death. But these daily triumphs soon brought a brand-new worry. He realized he had no way to predict the exact time of day his death might happen. He had a long fight with himself over the issue.

In the end, he decided to track his life in minutes. "Now I will know exactly how much time I can rack up before the end. I will know exactly how long I lived. I will be the first man to beat death," he told himself. Then, out of a morbid fascination, he repeated it out loud.

© 2026 Francisco Cortés Ramírez. All rights reserved. This is an original fictional work. No part of this text may be reproduced, translated, or narrated in any audio, video, or digital format without the express written permission of the author.

I'm working on trying to get something myself, but I'd love to share the vision. I hope this is the ride sub for it lol. This is kinda just me gushing over power armor and humans and how I'd like to see more of it!

POWER ARMOR lads, be it thick or thin', bold or brazen, strap a man or woman in that bad boy and let them ROCK!! It can be the Everyman Armor like StarCraft, or dripped out, augmented badasses like Warhammer. Or fuck it, go straight CRAZY with their own version of Iron Man Armor! Whatever the niche, HUMANS got the BEST power armor!!

Also, MECHS baby, arguably the only thing BETTER than powered gigaboots. Same thing as mentioned above, but SCALE it. (I need to freaking watch Evangelion, heard it's the Holy Grail of mecha). Whether it's a speed demon Armored Core Mech or an absolute gargantuan Warhammer Titan Mech; OR the absolute BUSTER that is the.... one Mech from that anime about spirals (forgot the name)

SYMBIOTIC Power Armor - rare but a GEM when I find it. Can't think of a good example; but imagine Venom or Blue Battle??? Just - a bond between armor and human inside. ✨

Aliens have their own of course, if appropriate. Or perhaps humans need the thing just to keep it with even bigger, more deadly aliens/monsters. Bonus points if Alien stuff is more snazzy then our stuff, OR vice versa where Humans got the good shit for once.

Also, power armor in FANTASY HELLO??? Never seen that in stories, or anything beyond sci-fi really! Save a few exceptions!! Maybe do a blend of both, maybe a Wizard vs Guy/Gal in Suit?

Idk just - gimme variety and fun!!

On account of me currently sounding and coughing like a V8 on a Cold Start while just trying to breathe and mostly failing.

They say it’s not abduction if the person was supposed to die anyway.

I am totally not like others of my kind. I don’t want to drill reality for my own custom universe like nobles do. I don’t want to fight for the goals of the lords. And I don’t want to develop my noble blood, trying for the best possible bloodline, like some mindless breeder. But like all of my kind, I have this urge to hoard stuff: to collect specific things, sort them, and document them.

Most of us collect skills in their specific field. Others collect rarities. And I collect those sentenced to die. Recently I found a real goldmine (both literal and figurative): a massive metallic asteroid full of gold, where humans built their mining outpost. It seems, though, that the humans in there are rather... cruel to each other. Regularly, I notice that a human is thrown out of an airlock.

Apparently, they don’t need that many people there. But instead of just sending them back, they perform this terrible act of gene-cleaning. That got me curious. So right before a human suffocates, I teleport them on board, making sure there is no one around to save them.

I am curious to see what these humans will do next. I placed them in a simulated natural habitat of warm savanna and rainy forests, and so far they have made a few settlements, as I’ve collected enough of them. I’m curious how differently they will behave from those who threw them away. I am collecting so much data!