Random stories

The humans called it a “facepalm”.

It was the act of slapping the upper portion of one’s head with the extremity of one of their two upper limbs in a derisive, frustrated, and generally disbelieving manner. It was a fantastic gesture, one that Perth had adopted immediately, and one that she used in reaction to said gesture’s progenitors with increasing frequency.

Of course it wasn't perfect, seeing as her brain was not located in her head the way human’s brains were, nor did she possess hands in the same fashion, but the idea seemed to work all the same. And so, Matriarch Perth facepalmed as the light on the map blinked out.

“Erm… Matriarch,” General Arathi said timidly. “It seems that—”

“I see it,” Matriarch Perth said before sighing. *That* particular affectation, it seemed, was universal, at least among those creatures with the need to constantly breathe. “Why did we let these six-system half-trained schuttas into the alliance again?”

“They are locked between the two fronts of the war, Matriarch,” Arathi offered.

“In the fourth quadrant, where no action would have occurred.”

“And they claimed to have a secret weapon, one that could devastate worlds.”

“I still can’t believe they thought nuclear bombs were a game changer. Just because *they* were gridlocked into a civilization-halting nuclear standoff for over a century doesn’t mean every other species was so foolish as to not evolve past them,” Perth groaned. “And now *this*.”

“It does seem rather… grim,” Arathi agreed.

“They lost Earth.”

“Yes.”

“Their *home world*,” Perth stressed.

“So it would seem.”

“Shouldn’t that be the most fortified, hardest to take planet in their whole empire?” Perth asked.

“One would assume so,” the general replied.

“And how long has it been under siege?”

Arathi consulted her notes, though she knew the answer. “Five of their hours, Matriarch.”

“Five hours,” Perth said, shaking her head. “Scarcely half a cycle. And now they’ll undoubtedly come to us, begging for help and aid to save their worthless little—”

An emissary burst into the room. Perth recognized her immediately as the ambassador to the Human Collective worlds, and rolled two of her eyes, another human affectation. What they lacked in martial ability, they certainly made up for in expressiveness.

“Matriarch!” the ambassador cried. “You need to see this!”

Perth glared at General Arathi with an *I told you so* sort of look.

“What do they want this time, Ambassador?” Perth asked wearily.

“Nothing, Matriarch!” she replied. “The Saliari are taking massive losses!”

Perth leaned forward. “Where? I thought the third quadrant was at a standoff! Did they try to attack?”

“Not in the Magil sector, Matriarch. On *Earth*.”

“Earth? What do you mean? I didn’t authorize a counterattack on—”

“It’s not us, Matriarch. It’s the *humans*.”

“The humans?” Matriarch Perth asked. “How? They’ve barely discovered how to make hypra rounds, and we’ve had to supply them with anything actually powerful enough to break through the kinetic shields!”

“They, uh… Well, they started using sticks.”

“Sticks? You mean like the… the organic plant things that grow on those tree things?”

“Well, metal sticks, to be sure. They call them… what was it… s-words.”

“Shit?”

“No, s-words. That’s the official description. Apparently it’s a great big metal stick that they’ve sharped on two sides.”

“Like a propellor blade?” Perth asked.

“Exactly, but with a handle. Then they… er… hit the Saliari with it. I’ve been told it’s a historic weapon from several thousand years in their past.”

“They used these things for *how long?* How many years did it take for them to learn about basic explosives?”

“It’s not important, Matriarch,” the ambassador said. “The s-words are working! Kinetic shields completely ignore them, and the Saliari are from a low-gravity planet, so the blunt impact force causes massive internal hemorrhages without even piercing their armor!”

Perth blinked. The words that the ambassador was saying made sense. The Saliari’s delicate evolution had been the source of their armor-making prowess, and as the centuries of intragalactic war raged on, they had grown more and more resistant to the piercing shots of bullets and other ranged weaponry, much to the dismay of their enemies. Apparently, however, they had not thought to protect against… blunt force trauma?

“Why did we never think of this?” Perth demanded.

“Well, it’s not so simple, Matriarch,” the ambassador said. “The humans are also taking losses just sprinting to the Saliari positions and—”

Perth held up a tentacle. “They wield these weapons *by hand*.”

“Yes, Matriarch.”

“Up close.”

“Yes, Matriarch.”

“They’re all going to die,” she moaned softly.

“Not precisely, Matriarch,” General Arathi said. “If they steal the armor off the dead Saliari…”

“They’ve done that precisely,” the ambassador confirmed. “And their leaders report that—”

The light on the map, the one that Perth had facepalmed at so recently, blinked back on.

“These humans don’t do anything slowly, do they?” Arathi asked.

***

Good lord, I'm out of practice, but if this is coherent and you want more, check out /r/Badderlocks.

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Submitted by Badderlocks_ on Thu, Mar 17, 2022 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

When they entered the Galactic War, humans were the weakest of the bunch. Our weapons did nothing to alien armor and we were an embarrassment and burden to our allies. That is until one man had the stupid (brilliant) idea to bring a medieval sword to the firefight.