Why Humans Avoid War

Kilon POV

The sleek outline of the Terran flagship loomed ahead on the view screen. Our sensors failed to detect any damage or deviation from normal function, even at close range. But our hails to the Terran ships, requesting status updates, had gone unanswered for hours now.

The radio silence from their fleet was out of character, and I had begun to fear the worst. A shuttle was sent to re-establish contact with the humans, and to render aid if necessary. I opted to accompany the team, despite the possible risk to my safety. It was uncommon for a high-ranking officer like myself to partake in a rescue mission, but I felt as if I owed them my presence. I figured if the roles were reversed, Commander Rykov wouldn't be watching from the sidelines; he would be helping in any way he could.

What could have caused the Terrans to cease all communications, without any explanation? It wasn't totally unexpected that something had gone wrong with the plan, of course. The logistics of evacuating thousands of civilians in minutes were impractical, if not impossible.

I recalled my brief deployment to the Jatari lunar colony, when an inbound asteroid forced a mandatory evacuation. Despite government warnings, many people were reluctant to abandon their homes. Those that did leave in the initial rush funneled into a single spaceport, leading to congestion and delays. It had taken days to clear out all of the inhabitants, and we swept for stragglers down to the last moment.

From my experience, the only hope of completing the mission in the time allotted was divine intervention. Yet Commander Rykov seemed so confident, and had brushed off my objections as if they were trivial. How could I press him further, when the humans had delivered time and again on their impossible promises?

Had I listened to my instincts, perhaps the current predicament could have been avoided. Now, we were sailing into possible danger, without the faintest idea what we might be facing.

The pilot, a young female named Daari, cleared her throat. "Sir, our sensors picked up two readings consistent with plasma rounds. Closing quickly."

My antennae twitched with surprise. Who was even shooting at us? The only ships in our vicinity were the Terrans', but they had never shown an inclination to attack. There had to be another explanation.

"Engage evasive maneuvers!" I barked.

"No time." She pressed a few buttons, likely diverting all power to shields. "Brace for impact."

Best case scenario, the shuttle would sustain heavy damage; this small clunker wasn't designed to take direct hits from a railgun. Worst case...well, we'd all be dead.

The next few moments stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and as my anxiety swelled, I struggled to maintain my composure. My instincts screamed at me to do something, even if it were futile. Nothing was worse than waiting, helpless to avert your demise.

"Sir...the rounds missed us, narrowly," Daari said. "Angle was any lower, they would've clipped the shields."

Relief flooded through my veins, followed by confusion. "What? I'm not complaining, but we shouldn't have been a difficult target. Where did the shots come from?"

"The Terran flagship," she replied.

"No, no, that's impossible." The only vessels in the area were human, but I still couldn't believe that they would fire on us. "They must be hacked by the AI. Or maybe they were hijacked. We have to help them immediately."

Daari shifted, looking uncomfortable. "With respect, I doubt that's the case. There was no distress signal, no signs of a breach, and no change in computer functions."

"I...I don't understand."

"I don't know why either, sir. But maybe the Speaker was right."

"Right about what?"