Final Demand for Surrender, as delivered by Christopher Daniels. January 18th, 2021
The video begins, showing the interior of the 127th Emperor Hetto. Seated before the camera is Christopher Daniels; Traoré and Larsen can be seen out of focus, facing cameras of their own. In the center of the bridge floats Fleetlord Straha, flanked by Advisor Pastempeh-keph and Loremaster Fistarteh-thuktun.
The Fleetlord speaks to the three humans in Race-tongue, and Daniels clears his throat. He begins to blink at unusual intervals as he speaks, and the others can be heard speaking in various languages.
"On the behalf of Straha, Exalted Fleetlord of the Race Conquest Fleet, I deliver to the people of Earth a message. The Exalted Fleetlord wishes to inform humanity that the dropping of the Foot was but a small sample of the power of the Race. The Race can send more asteroids to our planet whenever it feels the need to, and wherever it needs to. Humanity is powerless to stop these attacks, and no nation is safe from them."
Daniels' blinking spells out N-E-X-T-R-O-C-K-T-H-R-E-E-W-E-E-K-S.
"In addition, the Exalted Fleetlord desires to inform humanity that his army has already made landings in the United States and Western Europe, and that this force now the largest and most fearsome power on the planet. The fithp's weapons now serve the Race, and to challenge the Race now is to invite utter destruction."
The next set of blinking spells out U-S-E-C-L-O-U-D-S.
"However, the Fleetlord is a most generous one, and has decided in his exalted mercy to allow humanity a chance to avoid further bloodshed. The Race does not desire Earth's ruin, or the death of all humans, despite what your governments may say."
"More than eight hundred years ago, our world was discovered by the Race, and humanity was put on trial in absentia before the 127th Emperor Hetto, after whom this bannership is named. Though humanity has advanced far more rapidly than the Race, or any of its subject worlds, the verdict has not changed."
"That verdict is a simple one. The Race has deemed that humanity is incapable of ruling itself. Its fractured governments slaughter millions in war. A small fraction have more wealth than they could reasonably use in a thousand years, while billions live in squalor. Humanity's false cultures drive its people to subjugating their fellows because of arbitrary reasons, such as their sex, the pigmentation of their skin, or the false gods they worship. Humanity is wracked with crime and corruption, creating needless suffering. Its reckless technological development and inability to consider the future have devastated the planet's environment, and repeatedly threatened to destroy it in atomic warfare."
"It is for reasons that the Race has decided that the only way to save humanity from itself is to rule it. Only by joining the Race, and becoming loyal subjects to the Emperor, that humanity can survive into the future. The Race has no divisions of class, race, or sex. We are all equal under the Emperor, venerated he is. Serious crime is nonexistent on the Race's worlds. Its skies are clean of pollutants, and the bellies of its subjects are never empty."
T-A-U-C-E-T-I.
"The fithp have already seen the light of the Emperor, and it this that gives the Exalted Fleetlord hope that humanity can do the same. It is that hope which drives the Fleetlord to offer these merciful terms to humanity."
C-U-L-T-U-R-E-D-E-A-T-H
"First and foremost, the Fleetlord demands that all governments of Earth surrender their sovereignty to the Empire of the Race. All federal structures will be dissolved immediately, and the original constitutional documents will be ceremonially burned as one, to show that the Race is the only true government."
"In addition, Earth will undergo total disarmament, beginning with its nuclear arsenals and naval assets; the last remaining pieces of equipment will be surrendered for study. Personal firearms will be confiscated, without exception. If a single human resists violently, then everything within two kilometers of their home will be flattened. All space travel assets, too, will be dismantled; there will be no need for them."
"Local governments will retain a modicum of power, albeit ultimately answering to the Fleetlord, and only if they obey the laws of the Race. Private schooling shall be made illegal, and public schooling must follow certain guidelines. The only language to be taught is Race-tongue, and the study of human cultural works will be made forbidden. The children of humankind will learn the culture of the Race, and the Race only. Any other name for this planet aside from Tosev III is forbidden."
"Certain cultural works, especially pertaining to those of rebellion and alien invasion, are to be made illegal, and no new copies of any human cultural works are to be made. The internet, too, will be purged of any such documents. All human religions are to be forbidden, and the destruction or repurposing of all places of worship is to be completed within ten years. The only being humanity shall worship is the Emperor, venerated he is."
"In addition, all fossil fuel use and production is to cease immediately. Humanity will use the clean technology of the Race, and will make efforts to help repair the newest world in the Empire."
B-U-T-W-I-L-L-D-E-S-T-R-O-Y-I-F-L-O-S-E
"Fear not, humanity; not all that you know will be gone. In his exalted mercy, the Fleetlord has decided that humanity will be able to keep some of its laws. Marriage will not be made illegal, and only local human officials will need to wear the body paint of the Race. Day-to-day life will remain largely the same for many. Humanity's science, too, will not be destroyed. Instead, it will be repurposed for the sake of the Race, and the Emperor."
"The world will not end for you, humanity. You will still go to work, you will still have homes. You will not be slaves, but loyal subjects."
I-N-N-A-M-E-O-N-L-Y
"However, the Fleetlord is aware that such a decision will require time to consider. As a gesture of mercy, he has given two allowances to humankind."
Daniels produces a sheet of paper, with a symbol similar to a red cross on it.
"This is a symbol of surrender, as used by the fithp before joining the Race. If you fly this banner over your homes, your farms, and your hospitals, the Fleetlord will not direct any attack to them. However, be warned: if any military force attempts to deceitfully use this symbol, then every symbol will become a target of his wrath."
"In addition, the Fleetlord shall allow humanity two weeks in which to agree to these terms of surrender. However, be aware that the forces of the Race will not wait idle during this time, and will continue to expand its conquests until humanity acquiesces to the terms unconditionally."
G-U-N-T-O-H-E-A-D
"Unfortunately, even the Fleetlord's mercy has limits. If Earth does not submit before the deadline put forth, then the forces of the Race will push forward without pause, and without a moment's consideration to whatever pleas of surrender come after. America will break. Its cities will be demolished, its monuments torn down, its populace slaughtered. In Europe as well, the blood of every last man, woman, and child will flood the shattered streets if it does not capitulate."
"Once the world sees the blackened bones of America and Europe, the Fleetlord will offer the surrender again, with a deadline of one week. If this is not met, he will send more asteroids to Earth, and will repeat the destruction of America and Europe upon the Russian Federation, People's Republic of China, the Republic of Korea, and the State of Japan. Then he will offer surrender, with a deadline of three days. If not met, he will destroy the Republic of India, the Federative Republic of Brazil, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, the Lao People's Democratic Republic, the Republic of Indonesia, and all other not-empires within Southeast Asia."
"After that, he will offer a deadline of one day, and if that is not met, then he will destroy every last free nation on Earth. He has become aware of our warcry, that Earth will break before we do. He is willing to accept this painful decision, but would prefer a surrender."
G-E-N-O-C-I-D-E-I-N-C-A-P-T-U-R-E-D-T-U-R-F-T-O-O
"The Fleetlord will now give you time to capitulate, and hopes that you will see reason."
E-W-B-B-W-D
The video ends.
-/-\-
Ussmak I
Though he is now a tractor-driver in the Race Free Zone, Ussmak was one of many landcruiser operators who participated in the invasion of Western Europe. He greets me at the entrance of his shack, rolling up in his wheelchair.
Q: Thank you for agreeing to this interview, Driver Ussmak.
A: Let's dispense with false pleasantries, Tosevite. I'm not doing this because I'm some addled sympathizer like that Rabotev fuck. I just want to make sure you Tosevites don't forget the dung you put us through during the war.
Q: Very well, then. You were present at the Battle of Lyon. Would you care to detail your experience?
A: Fine.
Ussmak takes a deep breath.
I was a landcruiser gunner. My job was to point the turret at whatever the commander told me to, then blast it to smithereens. Pretty simple, when you get down to it. I didn't have to improvise on the go, like pilots or infantry males.
France was my first time on Tosev III, and it only confirmed the awful rumors I'd heard about the place. Cold and wet, especially thanks to the rain. The mud made the landcruiser break down a few times, and that was always a tense moment. From the reports we heard, it was like a bunch of Tosevites would spring out of nowhere whenever a squad or tank got stuck, and just pick everyone off.
It'd certainly explain the bodies we kept on finding, as we tried to slog our way through. It was like every square meter of that forsaken not-empire was covered in barbed wire or mines. Not to mention the hidden cannons they hid in abandoned houses or hillsides, waiting to blast some unsuspecting column of landcruisers. I didn't even see a Tosevite for the first three days; I only saw their Emperor-forsaken traps, or the bodies they left.
Q: Why were you sent to Lyon?
A: Most of the landing force in France was heading up north to try and take Paris; that was a good three million males on the move, backed up by fithp weapons. Most of the Tosevite forces were at the lines there, slowing the advance. As a result, there was a relatively small force guarding Lyon, and so we were sent to take it.
Q: I didn't go well, I take it?
Ussmak lowers his jaw in mirth.
A: Aren't you a funny one? Of course it didn't go well. It went as well as trying to clean a beffel's teeth. They sent three hundred thousand of us to Lyon. Seventy thousand didn't make it in time for the battle; either they were too bogged down, or they were killed by Tosevite guerrilla tactics.
My crew and I were part of the first wave. We and about a hundred other landcruisers were sent down through Tarare to try and circumvent the mountains, as well as the brunt of Tosevite defenses. It was still not easy going. We had to push tons of your horrible cars out of the way so the twenty thousand infantry males could make their way through. We lost a few landcruisers from mines, and then your Emperor-forsaken tanks engaged us about thirty kilometers from Lyon.
Q: How did that go?
A: There were about sixteen or seventeen of them, coming out of the forest a good two kilometers away from us. They took out eight of ours before we could even bear our guns them.
I despised fighting Tosevite tanks, regardless of what European not-empire they came from. The fucking autoloaders were even more advanced than our own, which meant they could fire twice as fast as us, and your stupid composite armor shrugged off all but direct hits to the flanks. Oh, and there's the fact that you Tosevites spent so much time killing each other that you had all sorts of fancy tactics with your tanks, such as pulling back and using your superior range. My commander was constantly barking orders left and right as we tried to properly engage them without hitting ourselves.
By the time we destroyed one, they'd destroyed twenty of ours. We had to actually call down a fithp bombardment, and that wasn't easy, either. The damn clouds meant we had to make an educated guess, then send coordinates to orbit.
Well, we managed to get a few tanks with that, but the rest just disappeared back into the forest, probably to harass another column. We didn't even bother trying to chase after them.
By the time we started moving again, we heard reports that some of the Tosevites had fallen back, and my mood was actually starting to lift. If I'd linked the retreat with the fact that the wind was blowing towards us, I would've been worried.
That was when the low clouds started rolling in.
Q: Low clouds?
A: I didn't know what it was at the time; it was like a light fog, coming in towards us with the wind. I didn't know what it was; I just looked at it, wondering where it was coming from. I only realized things were terribly wrong when I started seeing the infantry males in front of us start heaving violently and collapsing. Thankfully, Skiru had the sense to shut us in as it started coming towards us.
I still remember the sound of infantry males banging on the hatch, screaming at us to let them in. Then, over a few minutes, the voices stopped one by one.
Didn't stop a little amount from coming in. I started feeling terrible quick enough. I started drooling like crazy, and I found I had trouble breathing. Skiru had it worse; he fell to the floor, convulsing and foaming, coating the floor in... waste. It was when I tried to help him that I realized I could barely move my legs.
The rest of the crew tended to me; they knew Skiru was too far gone. It was Kistil's blunt thinking that made him inject a desalivating agent from the medkit; coincidentally, it contained atropine. And so, I managed to keep my life, if not control over my legs.
We waited an hour before peeking out of the landcruiser. Half of the surviving crews had already retreated back, leaving behind the infantry males.
Ussmak shudders.
Not a single one of the infantry males survived the passing of the cloud. There were thousands of them, face down in mud, or just staring at the sky with blank eyes. It was like something out of my fucking worst nightmares.
There was no way we were going to keep forward, and wait for another cloud. We pushed a few landcruisers out of the way, and just fucking hauled stump back through the mountain pass.
By the time we started running back, the rear-view cameras recorded some Tosevites rolling in to make sure it'd worked. By the Emperor, the sight... Tosevites in black suits, their faces obscured by unnatural masks with hoses trailing into their bellies. They didn't look like Tosevites, especially as they started casually putting a round in anything that even twitched; they looked like monsters.
And then I realized something. There was no way even Tosevites could've learned how to make weapons tailored to our biology, and prepare suits to survive the gas.
He looks my way, jaw dropped in mirth.
This was something they'd used on themselves, and just decided to see if it'd work on us. And just like that, they casually killed two hundred thousand males in a single day.
That was when I knew we were never going to win this war. After all, if they were willing to use that sort of weapon on themselves, what sort of horrors were they ready to unleash on us?
-/-\-
Almeida I
Carlos Luís Melo Almeida currently resides in a small home in Alcobaça, where he lives with his wife and four children. For the interview, he meets with me at entrance to the famous Mosteiro de Alcobaça. From our position, one can make out the newest monument, the Padrão dos Soldados, which commemorates the struggle that rocked the region twenty years ago.
Q: Bom dia, Senhor Almeida. Como está?
A: Estou bem. I'm flattered you bothered to greet me that way, but I've been a fluent English speaker for nearly eighteen years, now. I'll save you some trouble with the translation.
Q: Very well. Now, you served in the Portuguese Army as a Corporal when the war came, is that correct?
A: Yes. I was conscripted a good three years after the big discovery. I probably would've been conscripted earlier, but there just wasn't enough space beforehand.
Q: What do you mean?
A: Well, before the war, this was one of the most peaceful countries on Earth. Well, at least in terms of military matters. You could've stuffed the entire army into a football stadium, and still have plenty of room. Good for the economy, I guess, but not good when aliens are coming. I remember how crazy it was, back when the government was trying to get ready for war. They bought tanks from Germany and France on loan, and surplus planes from America and Brazil.
I remember my parents complaining that it was like the Estado Novo again, since almost every able-bodied person had to become a soldier, or otherwise support the war. My grandfather disagreed, probably because he'd actually been forced to fight in Angola. He knew the difference between forced militarization just to fulfill some colonist wet dream, and the real need to be ready.
I was terrified when I got conscripted. My grandfather used to tell me stories about the war, about how he'd seen heads on pikes and intestines strung along bushes. I feared I'd see the same thing. But, in the end, I think I was more terrified of seeing my home fall.
Q: What was the training like?
A: Probably pretty different from the training the bigger countries got. I mean... even with six years to train soldiers and make equipment, even with loans from the bigger countries... there was no way we were going to be able to fight a big stand-up war like China or America. Our country is just too tiny, and its population is just not big enough.
So, we did what we learned in Africa, and what we did in our own home soil against the Arabs and Napoleon - we trained in insurgent tactics. At the same time the government started following the Swiss example of hiding weapons and bunkers and putting bombs in bridges, we were taught guerrilla warfare. I learned how to make IEDs, and what were the best places to put them when fighting armor. We were taught how to dig traps and stay hidden.
Of course, we had no idea how successful it'd be; for all we knew, it could have been for nothing.
Q: So, you would say that the invasion from Gibraltar was what decided its effectiveness?
A: Oh, definitely.
We start walking into the Mosteiro. Almeida spends some time admiring the columns in the interior.
Thankfully, we were spared from the waves; all I felt on Footfall was a tremor and the rain. Of course, that relief was short-lived when they began hitting the more noticeable bases and airfields in the country, and we were told that the Camaleãos had landed in Gibraltar, backed up by the Elefantes. It got worse when we realized a large chunk of it was making a beeline to Lisboa. We had a quarter million soldiers in our army, but the rain made transport through our hilly country difficult, and a lot of our big guns had been taken out from orbit.
It was the kind of scenario we were expecting, the kind we had trained for. And so, I was sent here, in Alcobaça.
Q: Why here?
A: We were told that intelligence reports indicated that the aliens were making a two-pronged attack, to try and encircle Lisboa before going in for the kill. Alcobaça was a bit north of the capital; it'd be in their path.
He shakes his head.
I spent a frantic day digging out holes with my squad, places we could hide in or lay traps. Our older tanks, the M60s, they got buried up to the turret, which made them smaller targets. We planted mines in the bigger streets and set off trip wires all around the area, to let us know where they'd be coming in from. We had men with binoculars on the hills, scanning for where aircraft could be coming from.
We maybe had half a day after that to rest before they came in out of the rain. Our scouts estimated a good fifty thousand Camaleãos, as well as hundreds of their tanks. We had eighteen thousand, and if you didn't count the twenty tanks we buried, we had ten. Most of their aircraft passed us by; they were off to fight our own planes over the capital. A big mistake in retrospect.
Q: What was the combat like?
A: Well, the first thing that happened were the mines. As soon as the first few landcruisers went down, they decided to drive the tanks single-file, which made their troopmales vulnerable to sniper fire. From my little hole, I could hear the steady crack crack crack of our scouts harassing their forces past the rain. Their helicopters responded by doing strafing runs over where they thought the snipers were, which had the nasty little effect of splitting them up.
That was where the Stingers came in. By the time they started pulling back, they'd lost a large number of their precious helicopters. I could actually see the missiles arcing towards them, from where I was hiding.
Now, normally a loss of air support is grounds for retreat, I'd imagine. But those aliens just kept on coming. Their tanks started rolling down the streets into the town proper, and that's when the fighting really began. I was in the second line of defense, a good half-kilometer from this here monastery.
Q: Did you see combat?
A: Yes. I was trained to use the Javelin, which meant I had the oh-so enviable position of being a tank-hunter. I started fulfilling that description when a column started heading down the main street.
We had one of our few tanks do a hit and run attack; the brave bastards drove up and shot two landcruisers, then hauled ass right into our clutches, where'd we buried two tanks. Once the landcruisers chased after it, I had to pop out of cover and shoot. I had my squadmates providing covering fire, but it was still nerve-wracking.
Still, I did my job. I managed to bust a landcruiser, then ran for cover when its friends pointed their guns at my position. I had to ditch the Javelin as I went into the hiding hole, then got ready for the troopmales sent after us.
Q: What was that combat like?
Almeida grimaces.
A: Close range, and brutal. We managed to shoot a few as they came down the alley, then ran into a building. After that came taking potshots at each other from around corners, and room clearing. They had more bodies to spare, and that meant eventually we got nasty. In some places, where we didn't have ample room to shoot, or just didn't have enough ammo, we started fighting hand to hand. I saw Francisco, a mountain of a private, actually pick up a Hallessi and break his back over his knee, like something out of a comic book.
Personally, I remember shanking a big Rabotev repeatedly, screaming at him as he frantically tried to cut my throat open.
He pulls his collar down, revealing faint scars on his neck.
They pulled out eventually. I'm not sure if it was because they were called back as their forces started retreating, or if it was because they realized just how out of their depths they were when it came to fighting us Big Uglies up close.
Q: When did the battle end?
A: The offensive pulled back an hour or two later. They tried again the next day, but that just became a slog they couldn't power through, not with their losses. I think they lost ten thousand on that first day. We lost eight hundred.
That night, I remembered walking through the town behind the lines, until I actually came here.
We arrive at a pair of intricately carved tombs, facing each other in a large chamber. I notice that the flooring in some places looks as though it had been meticulously rebuilt.
Q: Who are buried here?
A: Don Pedro and Dona Inês. He was a Prince of Portugal, and she was a mere handmaiden he fell in love with. Problem was that she was the handmaiden of his betrothed. When his father had her killed to maintain political unity, he waged a war against him that only stopped when his mother forced the two to make peace. When the father died, he became King of Portugal, and did plenty of things that earned him two titles among us- the Just, or the Cruel. It's a long story, and is as well-known to us as Romeo and Juliet is to the English.
The point is, he had it that when he died, he and Inês would be buried here, across from each other, so that when Judgment Day came, they would each be the first person the other saw when they rose.
He points at some faint chips and cracks in the tombs.
When I came in here, there was a hole blasted into the floor by a stray shot. I don't think we'll ever know if it was us or the aliens. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that the hole had caused the tombs to tilt.
And so I found them facing each other once more, after hundreds of years. It was just as was intended, that it would happen when Judgment Day had come. Though, I don't think they envisioned alien lagartos when they planned this out.
Some others took it as a grave omen, that this was truly a sign that it was over for us.
Q: What about you?
Almeida simply smiles.
I didn't. In fact, it actually gave me a spot of hope, that we could pull through this. Judgment Day had come, and we now faced as a species the greatest threat we had ever come up against, or ever will.
And despite that, we still held the line at Alcobaça.
-/-\-
You have been reading:
Worldfall, Chapter Eleven: Europe Ablaze