Why Humans Avoid War

Ula POV

The Federation Senate was expecting the worst when the messenger arrived.

As per galactic customs, the fastest ship was sent ahead of the fleet to provide a firsthand account of the battle to the ambassadors. The terrified look on the young Jatari ensign's face as he entered the Senate chamber seemed to confirm everyone's fears.

I remembered the transmission we had received just a few hours ago, detailing the grim predicament of those who had confronted the Devourers. The numbers of confirmed losses had already been hefty, and without any Federation members sending in backup, we could be looking at as much as a 90% casualty rate.

As Speaker, I had tried to persuade the mid-tier aggression species to offer assistance, but they all flatly refused. If I had the power to force them to go, I would have. We all knew about the trail of destruction the Devourers left in their wake, but we had no choice but to stop them. They would push us to the brink of extinction if we allowed them to plow through our galaxy.

There were a few odd points to the messenger's behavior, however. As he walked up to the podium, he locked eyes with Terran Ambassador Nikki Johnson and swallowed nervously. I noticed that his hands were shaking. The Jatari were a proud, honor-driven race who had seen the horrors of war time and time again. Never before had I seen one return home looking like they'd seen a ghost. And why would his fixation be on the peaceful humans, of all races?

"Uh, hello S-Senators. I'm Ensign Telus." The herald's gaze had not left Ambassador Johnson. "The Devourers have been defeated. Not a single one of their ships survived."

Surprised murmurs spread through the assemblage. I was puzzled as well; the earlier correspondence had painted a hopeless picture for our men. If there had really been such a drastic turn of events, we needed to know how it had happened. Whatever tactics the fleet had employed could be passed onto other commanders for future encounters.

A quick glance across the room revealed most of the representatives in a state of confusion. But the Terran Ambassador was smirking, a predatory glint in her eyes. There was something about her expression that unsettled me deep in my subconscious.

I leapt to my hooves, keen on restoring order. "Silence! How is this possible? Please explain."

"Well, Madam Speaker...it was the humans. They only sent a few ships to our aid but...they built something awful." The Ensign's voice had dropped to hardly more than a whisper. "It was like they harnessed a supernova. Never in my life have I seen such destruction."

Utter chaos erupted as shocked exclamations rose to a crescendo, and all heads turned toward Ambassador Johnson. I wasn't sure I believed this account of the battle; the humans, possessing some terrible weapon capable of destroying the Devourers? It was common knowledge that they avoided war at all costs.

Xanik Ambassador Cazil laughed and raised a talon to speak. "Respectfully, the humans are not a fighting species. Savvy, cunning, greedy...they are all these things. But if they had weapons that could wipe out the Devourers, they'd be more than talkers and diplomats. They'd rule the galaxy by now."

The Xanik were in the upper echelons of aggressive species, but also were humanity's primary trading partner. The Terran Union had won them over with their willingness to sell anything, for a price, and despite differing philosophies on violence, the two powers had become close allies.

"You're wrong. I saw it with my own eyes," Ensign Telus replied. "The truth of humanity is that they are killers. They are dangerous. The General thinks we should seek their friendship, but I'm not sure I agree. I don't trust them."

I turned my gaze to Ambassador Johnson. "We should let the Terran representative answer. What do you have to say? Is this true?"

Ambassador Johnson sighed wearily. "Yes. It's true. Earth has many last resort weapons stashed away. We are very good at warfare, but we try to find a different way."

"Why did you present us with a false image of your species?" I demanded. "You speak of peace, and yet you've been hiding away the strongest weapons in the galaxy."

"We never wished to use them," she said. "Your aggression index: the high aggression species are often territorial and seek to conquer. If the Federation had looked into our history, you would have seen that we were once like that. We lost millions of lives in wars between our factions, and we grew tired of all that bloodshed.

Humanity has tried to be better. Our destructive, impulsive nature is still there, we just buried it deep. You see, we are the only aggressive species to have a strong sense of empathy as well. We grapple with that duality constantly. We control ourselves with rules, and for the most part, we choose good.

But we know the depths of depravity that exist. We knew that one day, someone truly evil would come along...and we would have to be worse."

I digested her words, my mind still reeling. A war with one's own species that had millions of casualties? Even the worst conflicts in the Jatari's early history numbered around 200,000 dead, and they were a 15 of 16 on the aggression scale! The bloodiest war we had previously known of didn't hold a candle to the humans' past.

A species with that much of a propensity for violence should have killed itself off. There was no way they should be able to form a functioning society. Let alone to think that they were acting as the galactic peacemakers! It was hard to reconcile my experiences with civilized, smooth-tongued human diplomats with the vile history Ambassador Johnson had described.

No matter how much the humans claimed to be able to control their savagery, we could not trust them. A species with such a drive to violence could easily stab you in the back in a moment of anger and think nothing of it.

Honestly, if I wasn't afraid of retaliation, I would have raised a motion to oust the Terran Union from the Federation then and there. But, even if it was playing with fire, it was probably better to have them on our side than to have them turn their artillery on us. We would have to monitor them much more closely though.

I forced a neutral expression. "You did save us from an enemy we could not beat on our own. We owe you a great debt. It will take some time for the Federation to fully consider what you have just told us, but we thank you for ending the war."

Ambassador Johnson's eyes hardened. "The war is not over, Speaker. We defeated one fleet, but the Devourers will send more if they are not eliminated. And they only would come back stronger. Humanity does not expect your blessing, but we do ask for your forgiveness for what we are about to do."

"What...what are you about to do?" I asked cautiously.

"We're going to strike their home world with antimatter bombs, no survivors. It is a permanent solution. It may not be pretty, but we don't see any other options to put an end to the terror they subject the rest of the cluster to," she replied.

Even the most aggressive species looked appalled at the suggestion. I noticed the ambassadors in closest proximity to the human edging away, as though they were afraid she might bite.

I shook my head fervently. "That is genocide! The Federation cannot accept the eradication of an entire species; please, let us try to negotiate a truce. We must exhaust peaceful avenues before even considering an attack like this."

"You can't reason with someone who only wants to destroy you. Kill or be killed." Ambassador Johnson rose from her seat, collecting her belongings. "How many innocent species have already perished by their hands? As far as we're concerned, it's better them than us."

The Terran representative exited the building, waving farewell to Ambassador Cazil as she departed. I could not fathom how any sentient could be so calm and detached at the prospect of glassing a planet, even one of a parasitic race like the Devourers.

I wondered if we should at least make some sort of attempt to stand in the humans' way. It was unlikely we could stop them, but at least we could say we tried.

Things were simpler when we had thought they were peaceful. A part of me wished that that lie could have lasted for just a bit longer. I missed our pacifist friends already.