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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Drunkgamer4000 on 2024-12-26 04:23:39+00:00.

So, you want to hear another story, eh? Alright, sit down. Let me tell you about the time humanity gave the universe a gift—one that came wrapped not in ribbons, but in fire and steel. It begins with a holiday we call Christmas.

For most of humanity, Christmas is a time of giving, a time for miracles. Celebrated every December 25th (Earth time, or SOL-3 if you prefer), it’s a tradition that’s stood the test of centuries. But one year, that tradition was given a twist—because that Christmas, humanity received a gift it claimed it didn’t want, but secretly, oh, they embraced it. That gift was war.

Let’s rewind a bit. Earlier that year, the United Embassy of Humanity—the coalition representing our species on the galactic stage—made a monumental discovery: alien life. Not microbial, not some ambiguous fossil, but intelligent alien life in the Alpha Centauri system, our nearest cosmic neighbor.

With eager hands and hopeful hearts, we worked tirelessly to close the distance. When humanity finally arrived, we encountered a species we dubbed Aracnosapiens—intelligent, spider-like beings native to a lush, vibrant planet. At first glance, they seemed like the kind of allies humanity had been dreaming of. Their society was advanced, their ecosystem surprisingly stable despite their industrial prowess, and they were on the brink of achieving interstellar travel themselves. They welcomed us with open—or rather, outstretched—arms.

Trade routes were established almost immediately. Goods and knowledge flowed freely between Earth and their homeworld. It seemed like a golden age was about to dawn.

But then December rolled around.

That was when we uncovered the truth. Beneath their polished cities and technological marvels lay a horrifying secret: slaves. Their entire economy, their industrial machine, their so-called “utopia”—it all rested on the backs of another species.

Humanity called them Aracnoneanderthalensis—their world’s equivalent of our Neanderthals. Only, unlike humans, the Aracnosapiens hadn’t interbred with their evolutionary cousins. No, they bred them like livestock. Stripped of names, identities, and dignity, the Aracnoneanderthals were treated as nothing more than tools, beaten into submission and forced to labor for their masters.

It was barbaric. It was sickening. And it was something humanity couldn’t ignore.

For all our flaws, for all our wars and greed and cruelty, we have a strange way of drawing lines in the sand. Slavery, we decided a long time ago, is a line you don’t cross.

So, on December 25th, humanity gave the galaxy a gift: freedom. Freedom for the Aracnoneanderthals, and fire for their captors.

The Aracnosapiens never saw it coming. They mistook humanity’s diplomatic overtures for naivety. They didn’t realize the firepower hidden behind our smiles, or the resolve that burns in our hearts.

When the first human fleets arrived in their skies, the Aracnosapiens thought it was just another routine trade convoy. They didn’t expect orbital strikes on their labor camps, or precision raids by human soldiers liberating the enslaved. They didn’t anticipate the wrath of a species that, for all its imperfections, will burn its own world to the ground before letting chains shackle the innocent.

The war was short, brutal, and decisive. Humanity dismantled the Aracnosapiens’ slave economy, tore apart their infrastructure, and brought their leaders to justice. It wasn’t just a rescue—it was a reckoning.

And what of the Aracnoneanderthals? They were free, yes, but freedom is a heavy burden when you’ve lived your entire existence in chains. Humanity didn’t just leave them to fend for themselves. We stayed. We taught. We helped them rebuild, not as tools, but as equals.

That Christmas, humanity learned something about itself. We learned that even in the vast emptiness of space, our morality still holds weight. And the Aracnosapiens? They learned what happens when you mistake kindness for weakness.

So there you have it. The Christmas War. The day humanity became both the bringer of wrath and the herald of hope.

And maybe, just maybe, the galaxy was better for it.