POV: Ursinian Delegate of Mediation, Yol-Tun

Galactic Foundational Defense Council Chambers – Earth Date March 15, 2433

“Ambassador Lebedev, with all due respect, you’ve intruded on our borders.” Said the Zoranian ambassador, a large reptilian like species. His nostrils flared, a clear indication of his displeasure. The Zoranians were a new species inducted into the Galactic Foundational Defense Council. Another ‘Death World’ species that evolved through sheer force of will. The high ceilings of the council chamber made every sound reverberate, the podiums each species stationed at adorned in white with holographic displays shining brightly.

“Admiral Ma’aak’tal, with all due respect, you have entered sovereign Sol space. We have been kind – lenient even – but we will not remain so if you do not pull your fleet out of our territories.” Ambassador Lebedev was not an unkind woman. Far from it, really. She was hardheaded, yet fair. I stood up, raising my paws placatingly. As an Ursinian, I held similar status to the Earthlings and Zoranians. A rare predatory species that ascended to the stars.

“Ambassador Ma’aak’tal, you must pull your fleet out of Sol’s borders immediately. This is not a request,” I said, cautiously, “before you spark a war.”

Ma’aak’tal huffed, the spines along his back raising in agitation. “This in itself is a provocation to war! We lay claim to the planet you are protecting, as is our right!”

Lebedev simply stared at Ma’aak’tal, tapping away on her datapad. She had a smile crossing her features, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “War, you say?” she asked calmly, “Is that what you want?”

I closed my eyes, letting out a quiet snarl before opening them again, turning my attention to Ma’aak’tal. “Cease this at once! Do not provoke them!” I yelled, my powerful voice reverberating through the council space. We all knew what humanity was capable of. We all knew better than to provoke their species. Relentless, unyielding, unconventional… Just some of the things that could be said about them. Murmurs and chittering erupted from the other council species, looks of worry crossing all of them.

Ma’aak’tal didn’t heed my command. He slammed his scaled hand onto his podium, tail thrashing behind him madly. “War is precisely what we want! You are primitive in comparison to my kind! Fledglings! You may have the lesser species fooled, but you do not have us fooled!”

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Words. They are powerful. Far more powerful than many give them credit to being. Those words, specifically, were the words of a species doomed to fall like 2 others before them. Humanity did not take kindly to other species impeding their progress, nor to them calling for a mindless war.

Ambassador Lebedev finally looked up from her datapad, locking her gaze to Ma’aak’tal. “So be it.” She said simply before standing and taking her leave from the council chambers. Silence fell over the room, broken only by the aggressive huffs coming from Ma’aak’tal.

The sound of her boots echoed through the chamber as Lebedev exited, leaving a heavy, oppressive silence in her wake. Even Ma’aak’tal’s huffing began to quiet, though his anger still radiated off him in waves. The other species avoided his gaze, but I couldn’t stop watching. A predator watching another predator, though I knew which one would triumph.

“She has agreed to war,” Ma’aak’tal growled, low and triumphant, the spines along his back quivering. He turned his yellow eyes toward me, sharp and cruel. “Does this frighten you, Ursinian? Your allies are soft. Their teeth are dulled.”

I met his gaze and held it, unblinking. “No, Ma’aak’tal. I fear for you.”

The words caused the Zoranian to pause. A ripple of murmurs cascaded through the chamber.

“Fear for me?” he sneered, though I heard the faintest edge of uncertainty behind his bravado. “We are warriors. My fleet will-”

“You don’t understand,” I interrupted, my voice grave. “Your fleet will not matter. Your pride will not matter. All you have done is invite ruin.”

He slammed his hand against the podium again, his claws leaving gouges in the metal. “Ruin? From them? What can humans do that others cannot? Their ships are small. Their armies are tiny. Their technology is laughable.”

“You’re right,” I said softly. “They are not like us. They don’t wage war to dominate, nor for glory. They wage war to survive. And you have just convinced them that survival requires your extinction.”

The murmurs stopped. Even Ma’aak’tal faltered. Somewhere deep within him, the survival instincts of his species scraped against a wall of something greater than he’d ever known: the unknown depths of humanity’s wrath.

The chamber doors closed with a heavy thud as Ambassador Lebedev disappeared from sight. Whatever quiet words she whispered into her datapad before leaving, I had no doubt they had already reached her people.

“They will come,” I said, louder now, addressing the chamber as a whole. “And when they do, you will see.”

Ma’aak’tal scoffed, turning away in frustration, but I could see it—the sliver of fear crawling along his scales, just beneath the skin.

I sighed, heavy and low, and sank back into my seat.

“They will come,” I whispered again, more to myself this time.