Why Humans Avoid War

Kilon POV

A human hand clamped down on my shoulder, jolting me out of my slumber.

"Wake up, General." The voice was firm and insistent. "We need to talk."

I groaned, taking a glance at the clock. It was less than an hour since I drifted off, and I sorely needed the sleep. As much as I liked Commander Rykov, he better have a good reason for waking me.

"Can it wait until later? It's..."

"No. We have a problem. A major one."

Was that...fear in his voice? My brain snapped to attention in an instant, and I rolled out of bed without further protest. If it frightened the Commander, it could only mean one of two things. Either the humans had done something terrible, or there was an apocalyptic threat on the horizon. I wasn't sure which one I was more worried about.

Rykov led the way out of my quarters, weaving a path through the flagship's winding corridors. His silence was unsettling, and rather out of character. As tempting as it was to demand answers, I had a feeling I was going to get them soon enough.

We turned into a conference room, where two individuals were waiting for us. I recognized the Devourer refugee from our earlier adventures, but not the blond human sitting next to him. The human was slumped in his chair, looking defeated and exhausted. Byem had a distant look on his face, not even reacting to our presence.

The Commander cleared his throat, frowning with displeasure. "Captain Larsson, please repeat what you told me. Including the part about leaving a refugee camp to their deaths."

Cpt. Larsson flinched as though he had been slapped. "With respect, sir, our fighter was crippled and out of ammunition. It would have been an exercise in futility..."

"I don't want your excuses. Just start from the beginning," Rykov said.

"Well, to keep a long story short, we set up a refugee camp on a military base, which the Devourers attacked with no warning. Their shields got an upgrade. None of our main weapons worked, and most of our fleet was killed in action." The blond captain paused, gauging my reaction. I managed to keep my expression neutral, but a knot of fear was forming in the pit of my stomach. "Our CO ordered us to retreat from the system. We believe they'll be en route to Earth shortly."

It had been mere days since the Terrans' decisive victory over the Devourers, and their weapons had already been rendered ineffective? I shuddered as I recalled how easily the humans had blown through the capital's defenses; the Federation's artillery seemed like toys in comparison. If none of their firepower worked...we didn't stand a chance.

I couldn't help but feel responsible, as I was the one who persuaded Rykov not to glass their world. In hindsight, perhaps the Devourers should have been put down, while chance permitted. It would have been the pragmatic option, though not the moral one.

To my recollection, Ambassador Johnson said something along the lines of, "I'd rather they die than us", in her infamous Senate speech. Now, with the entire galaxy facing extinction, maybe the Federation would understand those words.

"Did this base have nanite weapons?" I asked.

Cpt. Larsson sighed. "Of course. All of our outposts have them."

I didn't even want to address the implications of that comment, since it meant the humans possessed thousands of those reality-bending missiles. A stockpile of that size...were the Earthlings planning to level a small galaxy or something?

"There has to be some sort of weakness. Some chink in their armor," I mused.

"Smaller weapons. Those don't exactly pack a real punch, though." Larsson drummed his fingers on the table, eyes rolled back in thought. "They're vulnerable to ramming tactics. Not that I'd try that first."