ParadoxumFilum

Welcome to the blog of ParadoxumFilum. I use this space to write many musings and to release creative juices upon the world

[ghostlight01]

@instructor144

[instructor144]

Exactly this. An excellent summary of the biological basis for why scientists believe humans literally evolved to be long, slow runners. There are a bunch of other adaptations, ligament and bone alignments and such that could only make sense as evolutionary adaptations for slow, long distance running. The book “Born to Run” has a couple of good chapters on the subject.

Long, slow running is kinda what humans are born to do. I’ve got the slow part nailed. The “long” part remains a work in progress. ;)

[not-the-real-norbert-hofer]

ancient humans be powerwalking

[jeanjauthor]

We have a lot of things that make us exceptional powerwalking pursuit predators.

We have:

1. Excessive number of sweat glands.  We can cool down partically while moving at a steady pace, extending how long we can travel, before having to stop to cool down completely.

2. Huge buttocks (comparatively & proportionately speaking, we literally have the largest glutes of any living creature--what you might think are the glutes, like say, on a kangaroo...are actually its hamstrings, not its actual gluteal muscles).

3. A little wedge-shaped vertebra in the spine of the humans that can get pregnant, which allowed them to go from carrying their pregnancies like most mammals on all fours, to being able to comfortably support that extra weight in front while walking and standing upright.

4. Height advantage, meaning we can see over bushes and rocks easier than most predators our general bodyweight.

5. Eyesight advantage, in both terms of seeing in a wider range of colors, negating many types of camouflage used by prey animals to avoid predators, and in terms of being the real Jurassic Park T-Rex, aka “their eyes are based on motion” (because we don’t actually know how their eyesight works, but this statement is how our eyesight works).  If an animal holds still, and its coloring isn’t in contrast to its surroundings, we won’t see it...but if it’s brown on a green background, or moves in a way that the wind isn’t stirring the bushes, grasses, or trees?  We’ll see it.

6. Walking Upright + Opposable Thumbs = Attack & Stamina Buffs.  Walking upright allowed us to further develop opposable thumbs, because we had both hands free for carrying things.  Not just things like rocks and sticks to whack our prey with...but things like cups, bowls, bags, baskets.  Waterskins and gourds filled with water, extending just how far we can travel in pursuit of our prey before we need to detour to find a watering hole.  We can carry multiple things, such as a bag of dried jerky and a couple gourds of water, and a sharp stick to poke/whack our prey, sharp stones to cut up the prey and bring back the best & most useful bits, and still have plenty of food and water on hand to eat on the way there and on the way back.

7. Our throwing ability, which is freakin’ outstanding.  In the way that the tendons, joins, ligaments, muscles, all of that come together on the arms of a gorilla, they are far stronger with certain muscle movements than a human could ever be...but their arm sockets and their ligaments means that if they tried to throw an object over a couple pounds in weight, they’d literally not be able to throw it very far, and would most likely--due to their lack of the ability to stand up & balance like a human--literally fling themselves over backwards, unable to impart enough forward momentum because of their inability to brace themselves on two feet like a human.  In fact you’ll often see apes sitting down when throwing things, because it’s slightly more stable for them...but it’s always something lightweight (small sticks, pinecones, small rocks, feces). 

Oh sure, the great apes can pick up a big stick and smash it around, but that’s not throwing something, and their aim sucks even when they do manage to throw things.  A human’s ability to throw is jaw-droppingly incredible.  Even without using force multipliers like slings and bows and atlatls, the average adult can throw an object 40-60mph (70-100km/h), and be reasonably assured of hitting within a yard/meter of their intended target with minimal training and practice.  That animal that wants to get away from us by sprinting?  We can hurl hard rocks and pointy-tipped sticks, injuring that animal, making it bleed so we can track it easier.  Making it more tired, more quickly exhausted from fear and adrenaline crash-and-burn...and the earliest animals probably had no freakin’ clue that it was that ugly hairless ape that was the source of the sharp ouchy things smacking into it without any sign of an actual predator making them hurt.

Humans don’t have much in the way of sharp teeth or tusks, we don’t have claws or hooves, and we certainly don’t have horns or thick armor-like hides.  But we have one more thing that makes us absolutely terrifying as pursuit predators:

8. We’re a social-survival species.  We cooperate with each other to survive.  It means our ancestors hunted in groups, as well as gathered in groups, cared for our young and our old and our injured in groups.  This allowed a great deal of information to be shared, both in terms of sharing new ideas and discoveries and creations regarding weapons, but also in hunting strategies.  Like the honey bee dance, we delivered ways to communicate how one of us saw a huge herd of deer off in such-and-such direction, and how if we gathered all the hunters, and enough extra to help process all the meat, we could hopefully hunt enough big game to feed the tribe for months to come, especially if we use that salting-and-drying-it-over-a-smoky-fire method that Torg’s mother developed several seasons back.  It means that even if one of us is injured or out of shape and cannot continue the pursuit, whoever we’re hunting with can continue the chase while we rest, and then we can catch up to them when we’re ready to move on again.

[what-are-even-humans]

re the last point there: humans are also among the very very few species that are able to co conceptualize that another individual knows something we do not. Asking questions is in many ways both inherently human and very rare

[tlaquetzqui]

Realistically, space piracy would probably work, most of the time, more like ransomware, except instead of locking someone out of their device or threatening to release private information, you’re threatening them with missiles. But the part where you’re just coercing a funds-transfer would be the same.

Docking spaceships is so delicate an undertaking that it would be child’s play to destroy any ship that tried it (you have to make a special effort not to destroy the other ship). Plus if the pirates are close enough to dock with a ship, they’re close enough for it to swing around and fry them with its exhaust by doing an engine burn (interplanetary ships start at “nuclear submarine” and only get scarier). And even just one second’s burn would also move the ship a fair distance away, with decent thrust.

[jean-denim]

Can someone do the humans are space oddities but like, the alien alliance council representatives are seated in a session and a new report sites the possibility of discovering a new race in part of the dark patch. This is a miracle, nothing lives there, but recently these clunky machines and boxes carrying toys and signals have been discovered, their paths trailing from the dark patch. When the council asks if anyone has yet tried to see for themselves what is in there, the race to discover the countless pleas, yelling into nothing, asking if someone was there, they hang their heads solemnly. The race died out a millennium ago, before most of the intelligent races today had even the chance to take their first steps. The "human" race was early.

[paradoxumfilum]

The slightly scary thing about this post is that there is the possibility that this might be what happens. The probability of other intelligent life has to be non-zero, I mean we exist meaning this has to be true, and it is possible that one of the reasons that we haven’t discovered intelligent life yet is that it doesn’t yet exist.

[paradoxumfilum]

I think that I’ve reached that point where I just want to get back to Uni, or to just go fuck off to Dartmoor for a few days to just have some time to myself. I’ve realised that the time it takes for me to go from ok to you’re all annoying me with my family takes literal minutes then I just need a few days away to cool for a bit. I think I’ve gotten too used to living at Uni…

[paradoxumfilum]

I forgot that I posted about this, in the end I did end up fucking off to Dartmoor. I ended up getting really bad blisters so had to cut my excursion short. But anyways, here are some photos!

[carlynrosezenanna]

Mafew 1 (rewrite)

AN)  I got hopelessly stuck and i realized it was because when i had started this, it was on a whim and i hadn’t really planned it out very well.  SO  I’m starting over!  I PROMISE a better story!  This is SO much better!

I am so sorry if this aggravates you, but as an artist…i am a bit of a perfectionist…T_T  BUT with this, not only is the story better, but i can get some pictures up as well!  I’m actually supper excited about this….i just hope all of you will be as well….

(((((((())))))

Keep reading

[paradoxumfilum]

A great little story!

[error40317writing]

Cute

Humans were the newest species in the Alliance. They were small, fragile, and poisonous to practically every life form. They had strange oils on their skin, in fact, most mammalians (the…family[?] of species that the Humans were) on their planet had oils too. Humans also had the weirdest motives for their research. Their research into weapons and medicine were average, but their research into technology, specifically for entertainment purposes, seemed….wasteful. As in, excessive. That wasn’t even mentioning the amount of apparently habitable land taken up by research endeavors. Humans were obsessed with their history, classifying irrelevant species into many different categories and digging up bones to recreate skeletons of the extinct ones, and endlessly searching for evidence of “advanced” extinct civilizations.

They were quickly dubbed a “research race”. The Humans would be useful for their ability to seek out knowledge, but little more. The only weapons in their arsenal worth taking were the suicide bombs they called “Nuclear Weapons” and their medicine was useless for any race but their own. They were fragile, and tiny. Their strength only activating when under extreme stress, and it was immoral for any race to force a human into that state, especially considering any attempt to use the strength gain in battle would likely backfire due to the human’s ability for “spite”. They were a must-have for any exploration crew, but otherwise belonged in labs and not on the battlefield. The only battlefield capability aside from stress induced strength, was their adaptability and durability. Any smart Humans would’ve stayed around the habitable zones in between the poles and the equator of their planet, and yet the species managed to persevere, using their clever nature to survive in a wide variety of conditions and climates that no other race managed. It wasn’t even out of necessity, they did it for a love of exploration.

The human’s curiosity, cleverness, optimism, and odd weather-specific durability made them perfect for research. And yet some still decided to help on the battlefield. The battlefield medics were acceptable, but the tiny warriors holding what may as well be toy rifles were only accepted out of exasperated fondness and because they raised morale.

The Humans, with their small builds, wide expanse of expressions, and general kind-heartedness and playful recklessness were considered the best companions for any race; however, the Humans with anger-management issues in particular were more suited as companions for the Tloq, who were sturdy enough to take hits, one of the few races not affected by the oils on the humans' skin, and playful enough to enjoy an angry human’s company, even sometimes managing to calm one to a reasonable state. Humans were essentially pets, or children, but no one mentioned it, knowing the Humans would be upset at the analogy.

Humans took a liking to the Klo'rake specifically, likening them to large “cats”. Initially, the Alliance was confused, but upon doing further research, courtesy of the Linus (a winged species with a preference for chemistry), the hexapedal and fuzzy Klo'rake’s shared a scary likeness with the extremely tiny Earth species; said species were highly amused in their own quiet manner. The fact that Klo'rake had six legs and large horns was dutifully ignored in favor of the hilariousness that was humans flocking to them because they were fuzzy.

Humans were great researchers, the best even, their mindset perfect for the line of work, but the Alliance respected the human race’s needs for variety, and their want to run their own planet, and let them choose their own professions. At least two human researchers were always on a crew, sometimes joined by a human with a different specialty, such as engineers or pilots. Biologists and archaeologists were a favorite; the Humans’ need to classify different life forms was deemed “cute”.

Then, Earth was invaded by the Olomk. A violent species known for minor skirmishes with members of the Alliance. The Alliance was enraged, and the Humans were heartbroken. Their home planet was burning, consumed by flames and smog, and it needed their assistance. Every human crewmate returned to Earth, salvaging what they could of the planet. It’s axis had been tilted, the sea level had shrunk by many meters, and they mourned the loss of several species. The Klo'rake, Linus, and Tloq quickly came to their aid, not understanding why the humans were crying over the loss of biodiversity, but knowing the heartbreak that was the loss of most of your species.

For many sols the Humans rebuilt, their population once over a hundred billion had dwindled to merely six billion. The scientists took a census of the land, engineers, architects, and construction workers rebuilt according to the new soil. Farmers replanted their crops if possible, while others had to relocate to a different area so their crops would actually grow. Many offspring were handed off to Klo'rake and Linas, orphaned or injured. Medics and doctors did their damnedest to make sure as many people lived as possible, while others did what they could to dispose of the destroyed buildings and to ensure the planet wasn’t polluted by the waste.

Eventually, the planet was up and running once more, but for once, the Humans weren’t just angry: they were furious. Never had the Alliance seen this. Sure, they’d seen angry and annoyed Humans, but this was something different. Fury, mourning, irritation, and more wrapped up in a single undefinable emotion. They were quiet, planning, no one knew what they were doing, and no one dared ask. Many Humans that lived abroad came back to help, including all of the morale soldiers and some underage teenagers, even some children as young as ten that were desperate to help. The Alliance let the Humans mourn, as it was their first invasion, and hopefully their last.

Then, one day, Tlaku, the Olomk’s planet, was under fire. Weapons and ships constructed from a mixture of Klo'rake, Linus, Tloq, Human, and even Rikl designs decimated the planet. Even as violent and weaponized as the Olomk were, they were not prepared. The Humans dropped nuclear bombs, burned ships with plasma lasers; they shot down all resistance, and the few footsoldiers that were needed quickly crushed all the Olomk soldiers with quick fury.

It was quick, bloody, and unexpected from the race the Alliance had started to view as cute, peaceful, and curious. The Humans stopped attacking once surrender was declared, they mourned for the hatchlings they killed, helped with the clean up, and quickly departed for Earth, returning their attention to patching up the wounds still left by the Olomk Invasion. The Linus, for once scared of their lack of knowledge, took a page out of the Human’s book and started researching Human history, because clearly they didn’t know as much as they thought about their dearest researchers. Despite being out of their depth in researching history, the Linus were well accustomed to boring scientific literature, and quickly reported something terrifying.

Humans had a bloody history, filled with war, famine, disease, exploitation, and slavery. They were clearly capable of battle, good at it even. Their tactics astounded the Rikl, who were famous for their military might. The Alliance were disturbed that the beings they found adorable and cute were so capable of hurting others. They were reminded of the small scale spite that Humans displayed when slighted, and shuddered when they realized that the humans could have destroyed them if they really felt like it. 

But when the Human representative entered, flustered at her tardiness, they were reminded of why they had gotten that initial harmless impression. Tiny, fragile, and adorably curious, Humans were great at hiding their dangerous nature.

[paradoxumfilum]

The Great Filter and Social Media

I watched the Social Dilemma the other day - highly recommend, its a great documentary - and it’s gotten me thinking about the Great Filter. For those who haven’t heard of the great filter, it is a theory relating to the Fermi Paradox and about why we haven’t discovered extra-terrestrial life. Here is a link to the Wikipedia entry on the Great Filter, and the Fermi Paradox, for those who want to read further.

So, my thinking has been that what if Social Media is going to be our great filter, or possibly one of many that we face whether we know so or not. The addiction to social media and the turning of human attention as a product is being shown to be polarising and destabilising societies. If this gets out of hand then there is the possibility of a couple of things, firstly is that we don’t act fast enough to combat climate change, secondly that there is the triggering of a world war, and thirdly that countries fall to civil war which pushes technology back, or just delays development, for many centuries where another threat could threaten the world.

From my understanding of what was said in the Social Dilemma, the main driving factor of the social media addiction is capitalism. This is in the sense that social media platforms are there to make money, that money comes from the advertisers and therefore makes the use the product. Therefore the design of each platform is such to keep the user there for as long as possible so ads can be shown to them which gives the platform money. Because social media is such a new phenomena, in the grand scale of things, there is very little regulation for these things and putting this regulation in place would go some way towards solving this. There is the secondary issue that social media platforms are international in nature and so it may be difficult to apply this kind of legislation properly.

Anyways, thats a brief explanation and my view on how this could be a much bigger problem than what was eluded to in the documentary. I’m tempted to see if I can write a little something that focuses on the Great Filter concept but exams are a thing so further procrastination..... 

[writing-prompt-s]

Science fiction is full of first contact stories, but is there a such thing as LAST contact?  Decide exactly what that means, and write about it.

[elidyce]

It was too late, when the humans came. They were a young species, still exploring outwards, vital and thriving. 

We… were not. 

War had ravaged us, and sickness, and war once again, until our population dwindled beyond the point of recovery. We struggled against that, of course… we used genetic manipulation, and cloning, and even more desperate measures. None succeeded. When the humans came, we were sinking into apathy, only a few tens of us left. We had begun to discuss whether we should commit a mass suicide, or simply wait to fade away. 

And then the young species came, in their clumsy ships, and they asked us why we were so few. 

“We are becoming extinct,” we told them. “We have passed the point of recovery.” 

It is custom to avoid the races that are dying – once a species reaches the point of inevitable extinction, even war is suspended, and the fiercest enemy pulls back. The custom was born of plagues and poisons that could be carried forth from a dying world to afflict a healthy one, but it has the implacable weight of tradition now. After we are gone, after they have waited for the prescribed period of quarantine, there will be a fight for our world. Habitable worlds are few, and this is a good one, with plenty of free groundwater and thriving vegetation. It is a bitter thing to be grateful for the custom that allows us to die in peace, but we are grateful.

But the humans don’t know that custom, and they do not leave. They seem distraught, when we tell them we are dying, and try to offer their aid - but their technology is behind ours, and it is too late. When they realize that they can’t save us, though, they do something that bewilders us. 

Keep reading

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: A being of one made of trillions

*wheezing*  ….. *wheezing* ….. *cough*  …… …… …… *Sound of a door opening*  …… *two pairs of footsteps entering the room*  ….. ….. *wheezing continues*  …… …… Apostle: He continues to resist us. Interrogator: Indeed, but he will break in due time.  *Apostle kneeling down, grabbing chained humans face by chin and observes it coldly*  Apostle: Strange that such a frail species could resist our link.  Interrogator: I assure you, the mind melding device is working perfectly.  Apostle: *scoffs*  Apostle: If it had been then I would not be here.  Interrogator: …… *Apostle continues observing human*  Apostle: Why does it not react to my touch?  Interrogator: It slumbers.  Apostle: It slumbers?  Interrogator: Yes; it has taught itself to sleep through anything during our processing.  Apostle: *Observes human wheezing more carefully*  Apostle: You allow it to learn to best us; even when it is our prisoner? Interrogator: Their species is unlike any I have seen.  Interrogator: It sleeps as if it’s flesh was not being carved and mind probed daily. Apostle: *Let’s go of human head as it falls lazily back down, and back hands Interrogator*    *Interrogator tumbles into a nearby metal bench scattering the tools resting atop it.*  Apostle: Their people are conquered! They do not deserve such praise.  Apostle: *Motions for mind meld* Apostle: I will show you how easily they can break.  *Interrogator hands Apostle the mind meld head piece, then attaches nodes to human.*  Apostle: You failed to break their body, so I will show you how to break their mind. 

Apostle: *Breaths slowly, deeply. Rhythmic pattern building with each inhale as it matches the thrum of their heart beat.*

Apostle: *Closes eyes as mind meld device activates*  ……. ……. ……. …… Apostle: *Opens eyes* Apostle: *Sees an endless void of shifting colors swirling around their floating body.*  Apostle: *Laughs*  Apostle: A strong body, yet such an empty mind.  Apostle: *Waves hand and colors disperse.*  *Void shifts and reorganizes itself into a room. Every wall covered with blank tv screens as the Apostle stands in the center under a single light.*  Apostle: *Waves other hand and the tv screens turn on one by one.* Apostle: Surrender your secrets. *TV screens begin playing specific memories..* *A meeting at command*  *Orders from a general* *notes scribbled in a notepad* *Charts hanging from a wall*  Apostle: *Watches each moment on different screens* Apostle: *Passes a black screen and stops*  Apostle: What have we here?  Apostle: *Observes black screen*  Apostle: *Waves hand*  *No reaction.* Apostle: *Waves hand again*  *Still no reaction*  Apostle: *Grunts in anger and moves on to next screen*  TV Screen: Who……are you?  Apostle: *Stops and turns back*  TV Screen: Who are…..you?  Apostle: I am an Apostle. TV Screen: Aposssssstle?  TV Screen: Apostttllllllle?  TV Screen: Apppppppppppppppostle?  Apostle: Apostle.  *Silence* TV Screen: Not welcome…..leave.  Apostle: No.  *White snow flickers across screen.* TV Screen: Leave, now…….not welcome.  Apostle: *Booming voice* Only after i have taken what I need, and flayed your mind raw with anguish, shall I leave.  *Silence*  *Silence*  *Silence*  TV Screen: hehe…. Apostle: *Raises eyebrow*  TV Screen: *Flickers with more static snow*  TV Screen: Is that…..best you…have?  Apostle: *Smashes fist into black screen*  *TV screen shatters on the impact, glass fragments falling to the floor but disappearing before they ever touch the floor*  Apostle: *Moves to next screen.*  Apostle: *Studying map of human systems when screen goes black*  TV Screen: Try….harder…. Apostle: *Smashes new tv screen ant the glass shatters again.*  *TV screen to the right of Apostle goes black*  TV Screen: Again.  *Apostle smashes TV*  *TV screen to the left goes black*  TV Screen: AGAin!  *Apostle jumps sideways and smashes screen with armored foot*  *TV screen behind apostle foes black*  TV Screen: AGAIN! AGAIN!  *Apostle leaps backwards and smashes tv with fist.*  *More and more screens begin turning black as the Apostle continues smashing them.*  *Shattered screens begin belching a mocking laughter which grows with ever shattered face.*  *The laughter continues to anger the Apostle as they let themselves become enraged. Their fury carrying them to each blackened screen like a hurricane as the roaring laughter grows and grows.*  *With each shattered screen the glass begins to fade less and slices into the Apostles hands, bit by bit*  *Only after realizing they could no longer move their hands does the Apostle look down to see the bloody stumps they have become*  Apostle: ENOUGH!  *The laughter instantly dies and the screens reset.*  Apostle: *Looks down and inspects newly healed hands.* *A single screen turns black in front of the Apostle*  TV Screen: Drowning…isn’t it?  TV Screen: The voices…..the chorus….the chaos…. Apostle: If your point was to annoy me then congratulations, you have succeeded in gaining my ire. TV Screen: Not annoy……teach…. TV Screen: Do you….know what the…..human soul is?  *The Apostle stopped inspecting their hands and looked puzzled at the screen*  Apostle:  A religious superstition your kind carries about your individuality. 

TV Screen: Not superstition…..reality…. *Additional screens begin turning black*  TV Screen: The….human….body…..is made….of trillions….of life forms.. *More screens go black*  TV Screen: Each one….alive….eating….breathing….dying….. TV Screen: Trillions  speaking…. all at ……same time… *Apostle observes that the black screens have stopped blackening and have formed some sort of outline on the wall*  TV Screens: The soul…..speaks….loudest..of all.. *Room light begins flickering* TV Screens: It drowns out….the rest…. *TV screens spark*  Apostle: It shall not drown out my voice.  TV Screens: It speaks..above all others!  *The black screens no longer glass, but a thick black goo that oozes out of the tv sets.*   TV Screens: It controls all life inside by rising above… the chaos!  *Apostle steps back as the goo slowly forms together to form an outline of a man pushing through the wall like a specter.*  *Specter takes one step forward as the black ooze continues to swirl around its silhouette.* *Apostle sees with each swirl the shape becomes more defined, more clear, as if a they were watching a sculpture being carved in real time* Apostle: What madness consumes this mind?!  *Silhouette stops swirling and the figures is finally revealed.*  *The prisoner who was beaten and slumbering mere moments ago now was standing before the Apostle.*  Prisoner: No madness, only reality.  *Prisoner puts hand on Apostle’s shoulder and smiles*   Prisoner: You can try to poke around my head as long as you want, but it won’t matter. Prisoner: My voice, my soul, must be heard above the trillions of others inside my body. Prisoner: One more voice inside my head is nothing to me.  *Apostles sees black ooze slowly begin pouring between the pearly white teeth of the prisoner.* *Without warning every screen in the room shatters inwards unleashing a torrent of black ooze that fills the room.* *The Apostle tries to wave their hand and clear away the mental projections but finds his hand is now being consumed by the ooze.* *As it rises over their eyes they see the haunting face of their prisoner as ozze slowly pours out the corners of his eyes.* …….. ……. ……. …….. *Seeing the readings spiking the Interrogator rips off the mind meld device and catches the Apostle as they collapse to the ground.*  *They are clawing at their throat as if drowning and the guards outside were quickly called in to carry the Apostle to the medical bay.*  *As the Apostle and their guards left the room, the interrogator turned back to the prisoner. One eye was wide open and watching them as the prisoners lips slowly parted to reveal a bloody smile.*  ———————————————————————————————————– Hello everyone,  hope you enjoyed the story :3  For a while now I’ve had this idea that an individual’s soul or consciousness at the very least is the by product of either the collective will of the trillions of organisms living inside the human body.  Sort of like the soul is the “State” of a communist country and the organisms inside all contribute to it or a chaos god from warhammer 40k who is created from the collective subconsciousness of all living creatures.  I have no facts to back up this idea, but the story above is meant to show how powerful you as an individual are even if you don’t know it. There is no one like you on the planet and even if you don’t see it your body is filled with trillions of lifeforms and yet your personality reigns supreme. :3   

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #1295

As it turned out, most people’s idea of a double date involved, like, going out to dinner or something, and not sitting on the couch of my apartment watching history documentaries.

[paradoxumfilum]

This isn’t just a prompt but an apt description of something I would totally do 

[paradoxumfilum]

An ache of head or heart

I have been slacking in my writing lately and the Friday night fights that @promptsforthestrugglingauthor​ does seems like a good way of keeping things ticking over. 

Today's prompt is prompt 636 and is highlighted in bold in the short story below. I thought I’d adapt the prompt slightly from what I imagine most people would take the prompt to be, enjoy!

===

Diary Entry 344 : 16:34Z 27/06/2154 - On board ‘Lucy’ - Jupiter Trojan Field

Greetings, things are very interesting right now. It has always been unclear which was worse: an ache of the head or an ache of the heart. Today it is most definitely an ache of the head that is worse, although that might have something to do with the ship crashing into an asteroid causing me to smack my head into the door to the bridge. It serves me right for leaving her on autopilot whilst I went to get myself a drink, which I am now wearing by the way - it’s not a very good look, I only just heard the collision alarm as I opened the door then *bam* knocked out.

As I’m writing this the O2 alarm has only just turned off after three hours - finally!! Luckily the climate control systems stayed online so it’s not gotten cold, however there seems to be significant damage to the port side thrusters and the impact has cracked the hull slightly. This I’ve gotten around by sealing off the sleeping quarters, but that means I’m going to have to crash on the sofas in the rec room which I’m not too happy about. The leak was slow but I seem to have been knocked out for at least an hour then I had to spend another two hours bringing the O2 system back online. 

I kept plugging myself into the med station to check for hypoxia and to make sure my implants were not damaged. Interestingly the pain from the artificial heart implant isn’t as prominent as it is usually is, maybe my hit on the head has interrupted the nerve paths!

Right, I’ve still got a few things I need to take a look at. Mainly the port thruster, if thats broken broken then I’m in a bit of a situation. Lucy is temperamental as it is and with asymmetric thrust  she’ll be ever worse than normal. Hopefully I’ll be able to write another entry before the end of the day, if not then things are worse than I expected.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Planetary Assaults

Few people can say that they’ve witnessed the end of their people.

To see the works of countless generations before you, the toils of your ancestors stretching back centuries, the greatest achievements of your people had made wiped away in a few days as if they were nothing but dust in the wind. 

I remember the day human ships struck orbit above our world. 

I remember  the fury of our orbital stations as they sought to hold them at bay as hundreds of their ships exited jump space.

I remember the second sun that shun across our world when the Mobious Prime station’s core went critical and detonated. The debris showering across half a continent and setting the skies ablaze. 

But most of all….

I remember the black ships as they came from the heavens.

Our judgement was at hand……….

We though ourselves superior to every living creature in the galaxy, that none could match our culture and military might. We sought to conquer those we saw as less fortunate and bring them into the light of our empire and raise them above the shallows they had lived in. This went on for centuries until we finally came across humanity. 

A backwards people living in the darkest corner of the universe, our fleets of glistening ships entered their system with the chorus of hope and deliverance on our lips. We set down on their lifeless red world and began to recreate it into something beautiful, something to show them our might and strength. 

They responded by swatting our ships from their skies and sending  them plummeting to the red world below. 

War broke out then and the weight of humanity bore down on us from all quarters until now our very home world was besieged. 

What few orbital guns we had left fired bright lances of energy into the night sending a dozen or so ships plummeting to their fiery grave. But for every dozen struck down it felt as if another hundred rushed to take their place. 

High in orbit their ships targeted our guns and silenced them until all that was left was the army. Their ships landed all across the world and as their doors lower and slapped against the soil of our world I saw the face of our enemy for the first time. 

Clad in polished green armor and a face mask that resembled a demon of old the human soldiers stormed out of their ships and into our gunfire. Countless died as they crossed the terrain to meet us. Once their compliment of soldiers had left the dropships closed their doors once more and rushed back to the skies making way for more and more dropships to take their place.

What unnerved me most about these humans wasn’t their tenacity, nor their vigor to storm into combat; but how none of them made a sound. It may have very well been their helmets dampened all sounds they made but as I fired upon them I watched them tumble and collapse to the ground like a children’s toy as the strings have been cut and the ones behind continue over as if their fallen comrade was nothing more than a speed bump. 

The human soldiers had been pinned by our fire and were taking horrendous casualties when the heavy duty dropships arrived. Their doors opened wide and instead of soldiers came great mechanical machinations of war. Armored vehicles with weapons so massive they were more like mobile weapons platforms fired and tore apart our defensive works like paper while large slow moving troop transports lumbered across the battlefield. Our mines exploded underneath the monster’s treads but it merely rocked the behemoth as it pressed onward. 

When it arrived at our defensive line the front opened up and great gouts of flame shot out and swallowed my comrades whole. As I crawled away I saw a gaping maw open and out came more human soldiers. Their weapons fire was precise and quick as they cleared out the remaining defenses. I managed to escape the nightmare to the cities but even behind their shields I found no refuge. 

From miles away the humans cannons roared and their shells smashed into the shields like a heavy rain. The bombardment lasted three hours before the shield fell and then the shelling was upon us now.

Buildings crumbled like they were made of sand, streets lay ruined and crowded with the burnt remains of vehicles and the broken bodies of the dead, and everywhere I turned all I saw was destruction and chaos. I curled up into a ball then I kept my eyes shut. At least then I would not see my end coming.

 After what felt like an eternity the shelling ceased and I opened my eyes. What I saw made me believe that I had died and had passed to the world beyond. 

The streets were silent, as if the hell it had just endured was a distant memory. A layer of dust coated everything like snow as it continued to fall from the battered towers around me. 

From behind me i hear something rustling beyond the dust plums  and thought it was another survivor. 

Marching through the dust like gods of death came the humans. 

A squad of their soldiers slowly marching through the dust, weapons raised, helmets pondering the street back and forth looking for the smallest ounce of a threat to crush without hesitation. 

I was on my hands and knees when they came upon me an I looked up at the one in the front. I could not tell what expression the human had under their mask, if they spouted a devilish grin from ear to ear as the leaders had proclaimed or if they really did have five throats from which to eat our children. 

All I could see was those red lenses watching me unflinching. The human’s head cocked to the side slightly as they observed me; so did a few of their fellows but most continued to watch the street. 

One of them stepped forward, reaching behind their backs for something of what I still do not know to this day but I imagine at night as I look into the darkness of my ceiling that it was a weapon of some sort. A way to finish me off, put me out of my pain.or maybe to exact some measure of revenge. 

The one in the front who had been pondering me held out a hand and the other human stopped. No words were spoken and yet with a simple gesture the human had returned to their position.

Tilting their head back to me once more the lead human continued to watch me for a few moments and I felt as if the soldier was pitying me. Without an indication the lead human continued past me without a sound. 

Crunch.crunch.crunch. 

Out of that entire battle that is the sound I remember the most. The sound of my would be killers footsteps walking by. 

crunch.crunch.crunch……

The rest followed behind them, though the one who had been reaching for something lingered behind watching me longer before quick pacing after their comrades. 

The humans did more that day then just leave my body broken in the ruins of my world. 

They shattered my will and left the broken pieces along the ground as they marched forward. Everything my people had done became nothing but dirt beneath their feet as they marched towards their own future. 

[fullfoxcowboy]

Hope

UNG Log Galactic Calendar 20410  08/09 - It has been almost 10 Galactic cycles since the war the G’lang and their empire of oppression. The Galactic Council has been working tirelessly trying to put back the planets that have affected the most. But many of the soldiers from the other planets have been having a hard time dealing with the war afterward. None so much as the soldiers from the Sulin, who have alot of honor and pride in themselves. The Terrans have been sending out their counselors to help handle the aftermath of  war. The Death worlders describe them as fox like, with human characteristics, and nine tails. I have been assigned to mentor a young Sulon, named Gazor who has been having a hard time adjusting back to his planet. I am to arrive tomorrow to visit with him and try to figure out what is going on. 

UNG Log Galactic Calendar 20410  08/10 -  Arriving at the interplanetary port was interesting, lots of stares and lots of pointing fingers, claws, or paws; yeah lets go with paws it’s a little more accurate. A tall female Sulan was waiting for me, we entered black hoover car much too fancy for a regular Sulin. 

“Hi I’m Sam, what is your name?”

“My name is Faulina.”

“Do you work for Gazor?”

“Yes, in a sense. I work for his family and their business. But I have been  Gazor’s friend since we were young pups. I have been  concerned about him recently.”

“I’ve read his file, but what can you tell me about him?”

“Well ever since the ending of the war, and the accident he hasn’t been himself. Lately he has been distant, and acting a little strange.”

“Ok, that’s understandable. But if he came from what I assume is a well to do family, why join the war? Why not just stay here in the safety of the planet?”

“As you know, we Sulin are very prideful and honorable. So everyone serves in the military regardless of their status. This ties into the fact that the more honorable you are in battle, the higher in status you become. Dying in battle is considered a great honor, but coming back wounded or showing cowardice is considered a great dishonor to you and your family.”

“How does the planet treat him?”

“Like I said, status and honor is everything here. So while the  family name is still mostly intact in the public eye, in private it’s a different story.”

As we drive through the city, the streets are clean and the beauty of the city is exotic but you can tell that it has been thought out. Everything has a purpose, everything is put in a particular order and way. 

“Deathworlder, I mean Sam how did you come to hear about Gazor?”

“I got a request from his family, and it was put at the top of the list. So I guess it was a political move, or a business move if I had to guess.”

“Do you mind if I ask where you come from?”

“I’m from Texas, it’s a State or Province in the United States.”

As we were making small talk along the way, we pulled up to a large home, something like a famous movie star or a rich person would own. I was led inside to the room where I would be staying. As I was unpacking, an older Sulin came in. 

“Good Sol, I am Yulo the father of Gazor. Thank you for making it out here, as you know I am concerned about his social status after all of this.  So please if there is anything you need just let me know.”

“Yulo, I’m not here to bring up his social status or to make him popular. I was hired to help him, that’s it nothing more or less.”

Yulo sighs deeply, “I don’t think you understand the situation you death worlder. Status is everything on this  planet. Pride and honor, is how we live on this planet. So his status is everything, and our family honor is at stake.”

“Well I don’t give a damn about any of that, all I care about is making sure he is healed properly. That him living was not a mistake, and that him being alive after the attack was not a mistake. That he should have enough pride and honor, to be standing here with his family.”

“It would have saved the family the trouble, if he had died on the field of battle than being alive. Especially with the election coming up. A Sulin without honor or pride, might as well be dead.”

A young Sulin walks in, just as Yulo said that. 

“What’s all the noise about?”

“Nothing son, this is Sam. He comes from the planet Terra, he is a death worlder. I brought him here to help you.”

Yulo walked out of the room, just leaving Sam and the young Sulin.

Sam held out his hand, “Hi nice to meet you I’m assuming you are Gazor. My name is Sam, my friends call me Sammie.”

“Nice to meet you Sam, I’m Gazor the eldest son of my family. The next in line to assume the head of the house. When I was serving my friends called me Gaz.”

“Nice to meet you Gaz. Is there a particular place you feel comfortable talking?”

“Yeah actually, it’s the garden my mom was always at when she needed to think things through. So it always helps me, and I think it brings back the happier memories. But there is nothing wrong with me, if that is what you are thinking.”

“Of course, I just want to talk, that’s all.”

They walk down to the garden, and talk about what is going on in life. However Sam could tell that maybe he is not telling everything.  These conversations go on for many Sols, every sol talking about life on Sulin and Terra. 

UNG Log Galactic Calendar 20410  08/15-  It has been almost about a week since Sam stayed at the Gaz’s home. Every night he could hear soft crying, restlessness, and pacing in the Gaz’s room which was down the hall. The conversations have been getting more intense since the first day. As they were walking down to the garden, Sam asked Gaz.

“Do you mind if we talk about what happened?”

Gaz looked sharply at Sam, and made an angry sigh, “Sure, well we are on a patrol on the G’lang planet. I was behind the first guy of my squad, we were at one of the forward operating bases where most of the fighting was the most intense. We were doing house searches, and collecting intel. You know the pretty standard stuff. As we were making our way down the road I noticed something in the distance. I threw the Caom to the ground behind me, a pulse rocket went off from a G’lang waiting to ambush us. The rocket blew up at my walking paws, and then I remember yelling, explosions, and then I’m on a transport. I wake up in the hospital, and one of the bottom paws is gone. That idiot of a doctor saved my life, instead of letting me die with honor they took my paw and made sure I lived. I later found out that I was the only survivor from my squad. They got to die with honor and pride, and here I am with no honor, no pride, no family, and one walking paw. I’ve got nothing, except this: stupid fake paw, bad memories, no honor pride or happiness, and  restlessness nights. I shouldn’t be alive right now.” 

Gaz starts to weep into his front paws. Sam reaches out to hold him and says “It’s ok man.”, but Gaz pushes Sam away and yells at Sam. 

“Get away from me. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t understand the pain, the suffering, you’re just a death worlder who my father hired. A common lowly employee, that’s all. You and you’re fucking race of being so perfect, so indestructible that nothing happens to your people. How can you understand that?” 

Before Sam could say anything, Gaz was already running back to the house. Sam sat there for a while thinking about what he talked about with Gaz. 

Later that Sol for the last meal of the day, everyone was sitting at the table except for Gaz. Sam walked up to Gaz’s room and started to knock on the automated door. “Hey it’s Sam, I’m coming in.”

He saw Gaz sitting on the side of the bed, with a phase pistol in his front paws just staring at it. He looked at the back of the night stand, and saw a half empty bottle of alcohol. 

“Hey buddy, what’s going on?”

“I was thinking of taking my life, maybe that will make everything stop. Maybe my honor and pride will come back. Maybe my family will love me again.”

He raises the pistol to his head, and starts to cry. His paw starts to shake.

Sam slowly walks over to Gaz, and says “Hey Buddy, its ok everything is going to be ok.” 

Sam helps lower the pistol away from Gaz’s head.

Gaz says as he is crying, “I’m such a coward, I can’t even do this to restore my honor and pride.”

“You are not a coward.”

“Yes I am, couldn’t even do this right.”

Sam holds Gaz tightly and says, “You are not a coward, and I know how you feel.”

Gaz says back, “ You don’t know.”

“No, I do.”

Sam stands up and removes his long sleeve shirt. His left arm is mechanical, and he has a lot of scars. Then he puts it back on. 

“What happened?”

“ A roadside explosion on G’lang. I saw it pulled my guy away from it. I shielded him from the explosion, but in the process my left side got fucked up. My arm, most of the ribs, a lung, some of my hearing, and my eye was heavily damaged. So basically I’m half robot now.”

“I thought deathworlders were unkillable, indestructible.”

“No we are not indestructible, hard to kill yes, stupid sometimes, but we can get hurt.”

“What about your honor or pride? Why haven’t you taken your life to get back your honor?”

Sam sits next to Gaz, “I’ve tried and was almost successful. See I was in the exact same spot as you were. I was drinking and taking pills to stop the pain, and eventually my wife and kids left me cause the couldn’t can’t anymore. The left until I was able to accept myself. The world seemed even more dimmer after that, nothing really interested me anymore. The world seemed cold, and unwelcoming. I was in a really dark place, and thought it was a mistake. Kept asking what was the point of all of this pain.  Then the guy I saved found me, and said that thanks to me he gets to see his family again. When he said that I knew it wasn’t a mistake. So found a help group to lean on to bring me back. So in return I became a psychologist that works with species that have trauma. I knew that this was why I survived which was to help others in need.”

“How can you have honor and pride?”

“Remembering the brother and sister in arms that didn’t make it was how I was going to honor them and myself. That being here and alive, and helping others is my pride. If you want to look at it in a messed up way for fun, I look like a badass cyborg.”

Gaz starts to laugh, “So what about now?”

“Well my family worked things out, and now I get to be a parent again. I get to help others with words, and be there for them as well help them heal. I get to help put the Galaxy back together one species at a time.”

“What got you through all of this? What makes deathworlders so strong?”

“ It’s a lot of things that make us strong, but for me I think it’s hope.”

Sam took the pistol away from Gaz, and said “You have something here, someone who is waiting for you and cares for you deeply, as well as  remembering and living for your fallen squad members. So that is how you gain honor and pride. ”

“You think so?”

“I know so, come on let’s go down stairs and get some food.”

“Who is it?”

“You have to figure that out for yourself.”

As they were walking down the stairs, Faulina was standing at the entrance way with a little smile. 

UNG Log Galactic Calendar 20411  01/25- Every sol since the incident, Gaz has been more open and more willing to talk about his problems. His father would sit in as well, and they argued but they each came to terms with each other. Watching the debate on planet broadcast, Gaz’s father was questioned about his pup’s cowardice, all he said was “When I look at my pup, and what he has been through I would say he is not a coward but an honorable Sulin. To wake up every sol, and face his problems head on, that to me is something I can be prideful in and that he should be prideful in himself. So my young pup if you are watching, I am sorry for the hurtful things that I said, and proud that you are my son.” Over the coming days of the election, it was clear that Gaz’s father was going to lose the election. When he did lose it was no surprise to anyone, but at the dinner party Yulo gave a toast to the guests and the other Sulin that supported him and said “I’m glad that I lost, but I’m glad that my pup is home finally. You honor me for being here. Every word that I said was true, it may have political suicide but I would do it again for you.” 

UNG Log Galactic Calendar 20413  03/01- Back on Terra, Gaz and myself would exchange messages and keep tabs on each other, and when who was gonna visit who. One day I got a request to be back on Sulin for Gaz. He finally found out who had been waiting for him, now I have to brush up on what a Sunalin is during the ceremony; I think I am supposed to be the best man. About time that hard head dummy finally figured it out, cause I was not getting any younger.

[paradoxumfilum]

Satellite scavengers

I recently watched a Scott Manley video about graveyard orbits for satellites that have reached the end of their life and thought that maybe the reclamation of these satellites could be a possible job in a sci-fi/futuristic setting. I then read something recently about how this concept has already been thought of by a couple of authors, I forget their names, but regardless I think that it’s just such a cool concept and it makes so much sense. The major companies that install these satellites in both a real world and fictional setting would most likely see the cost of reclaiming these satellites to re-use parts as too costly and so put them into graveyard orbits at the end of their lives. It then stands to reason that a totally viable job would be to track down and then scavenge parts off of these dead satellites, or even active ones if you wanted to be properly nefarious about it, for profit. I guess that most of the parts on these satellites could still be working to some extent and even if they weren’t then their scrap cost I imagine would still be worth it

- a graveyard orbit is one that puts a satellite into an orbit that is at an inclination that puts them out of the way of active satellites so as their orbits vary and decay over time they don’t crash into anything that is needed -

[paradoxumfilum]

On the prowl...

[paradoxumfilum]

Night time air attack against a Japanese fleet

Game: Victory At Sea Pacific

Vehicle: TBF Avenger

[badjokesbyjeff]

Will glass coffins be a success?

Remains to be seen.