Why Humans Avoid War

Kilon POV

Terran Command had reluctantly furnished a new vessel for us, after determining that the flagship was damaged beyond repair. This one had nicer accommodations, since its primary function was in a diplomatic capacity. Its maiden voyage would be tonight, as the humans were hosting an ensemble of Federation dignitaries and officers.

The plan was to give a brief overview of Earth's military history, as well as its current arsenal. The new Speaker was making a genuine effort to smooth things over, but I knew it would be difficult. Many of the representatives still struggled with the truth, and Ula's death had raised new suspicions. Especially since Ambassador Johnson had been in the room when she was killed.

While security footage of the assassination showed Byem pulling the trigger, that hadn't stopped conspiracy theorists from claiming the Terrans orchestrated the whole thing. That the altercation between the Ambassador and the Devourer was staged. To be honest, I wasn't convinced they were wrong.

Not that it would bother me if the humans were behind it. What nagged at me was witnessing my own funeral on television. I felt like a traitor to the Jatari, and that thought made me sick to my stomach. All I wanted was to return home, to reclaim my old life, to stand behind the helm of my own ship one last time.

"Kilon. You look unwell."

I lifted my head, spotting Rykov at the entrance to my quarters. He must have just returned from the capital, in advance of tonight's conference. Between his bloodshot eyes and the splint on his nose, I thought he looked worse than I did.

I forced a smile. "Welcome back, Mikhail. Or is that General Rykov now?"

He winced. "I'm sorry. I never meant to steal your job. I haven't accepted yet, I can..."

"Don't be stupid. You deserve it."

"I don't know that I do, but thank you. Anyhow, I just wanted to let you know, you should be off the ship within the hour. It wouldn't be good for either of us to field questions about how you came back from the dead."

"I figured as much."

"Good. There's a shuttle waiting for you in the hangar bay. I've made arrangements for you to spend a couple days planetside. Might help you adjust to human culture, and at worst, it's paid time off."

"Anything beats dealing with politicians. You have fun with that."

"At least these ones aren't...ah, shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

The mention of Ula piqued my curiosity, but I figured I should refrain from asking about her. If the Terrans did arrange her assassination, then it wasn't a subject they wanted to discuss. Learning their secrets never ended well, at any rate; it was how I got stuck here in the first place. When it came to the humans, some questions were best left unanswered.

I stared at the floor, trying to quell the resentment brewing in my mind. "We probably shouldn't speak about her at all."

Rykov must have read something in my expression, because his eyes narrowed. "You want to know if we killed Ula, don't you? As far as I know, we weren't directly involved."

"That implies you were indirectly involved," I pointed out.

"Well...I feel sorry for Byem." A remorseful expression crossed his face, and his voice became subdued. "I sensed something was off last time he was here, after the refugee camp was destroyed. But I never thought this would be the result."

"Nobody could've expected that. I mean, how did he even get a gun into the Hall in the first place?"

"That's the crazy part. He tagged along with the press, and slipped the gun into a sound engineer's bag. Security barely gives the media a second glance. Once he got past the metal detectors, he just pickpocketed it back."