Why Humans Avoid War

Byem POV

"So why exactly was the 'refugee camp' set up on a military base?" I asked.

Carl's face revealed nothing as he glanced up from his cards. "Not everyone believes your little story, Byem. They want to keep an eye on you, make sure you're not a threat. Wouldn't want you to try anything back on Earth."

After the rescue mission on our homeworld, the humans moved us to a military outpost on a terraformed colony. From what I understood, its chief function was as a listening station, though it also could serve as a launch point for a pre-emptive strike if needed. They cropped up a tent city on the premises with relative ease, and had ample food reserves to accommodate us, at least for a few weeks.

Carl had requested a transfer to the refugee camp while he recovered from his injuries, which I was grateful for. I could tell a lot of the Terran soldiers didn't like us from their strained body language and curt replies. The three other humans at the table hadn't so much as looked at me throughout the game.

I had only been taught this 'poker' game yesterday, but the rules were simple enough. Trying to read the humans for signs of deception was another story. Honestly, this game seemed designed for sociopaths. Did their species derive pleasure from lying?

With a frustrated sigh, I folded my hand. "Obviously, you humans are much better at lying than me."

Carl smirked, raking in my chips. "You can't just let us bully you. Sometimes, you have to call. Can I look at your cards?"

"Go for it," I grumbled.

"Byem, why did you fold?!" The look he gave me seemed almost angry, and I shrunk down in my seat. "You had pocket aces. You know that's good, right?"

"Yes, but I don't know what you had."

"It doesn't matter. That's literally the best starting hand."

"What did you have?"

Carl flipped over his cards, revealing a two and a seven. I heard a few curses coming from the man next to me, and I was half-tempted to drop some colorful language as well. Why would he make a large bet with such a weak hand? It defied all logic.

"Maybe I'm just not wired for this," I said.

"Hey, hey, don't give up now. How about instead of worrying about lying, you look at it as a math game? Try to figure out the odds that someone has..."

A wailing alarm drowned out the end of Carl's explanation, startling me half to death. With its shrill pitch, it was unmissable. I covered my ears, but it did little to muffle the sound. Fear began to creep up on me; nothing that loud could mean anything good. I glanced at the humans, hoping for some reassurance. They looked puzzled, yet I got the distinct impression they were waiting for orders.

"Incoming orbital raid." A low, mechanical voice confirmed my concerns. "All soldiers to your station. This is not a drill."

All games and leisure were forgotten in an instant. The automated message hadn't even finished before my friend was tugging me by the arm, leading the way out of the lounge. I followed him in a daze; our peaceful stay at the camp had lulled me into a false sense of security. Who would be foolish enough to attack the invincible Terran military, after all? I was tempted to ask, but Carl seemed just as surprised as me.

We exited the building with haste, and I took a peek at the pandemonium around us. Terran soldiers were nearly tripping over themselves racing to their destinations, while the medical personnel were shuffling refugees off to a bunker. A squadron of fighter jets was already lined up on the tarmac, preparing to take to the skies. The response to the attack was almost immediate; the humans could intercept the enemy before they ever reached the planet.