Don’t worry we’re completely safe
laughter in the distance
As long we don’t move from here, we’re safe
door flies open
I think it’s best if we leave -- Anon Guest
[AN: Nonny, you have hit one of my favourite tropes - the chain of circumstantial self-correction. I confess to laughing out loud]
There used to be two absolute certainties in the universe - death and taxes. However, after the Humans entered the Galactic awareness, three things were certain. Death, taxes, and unbelievable amounts of destruction when a Human was around. It didn't seem to matter whether or not the Human was on their side, there was just... devastation in their wake.
It took quite some time for the Galactic Alliance to collectively learn that not all Humans were like that, but their fearsome reputation had cemented itself by then. Of course, in the initial stages of introducing themselves to the Alliance, the kind of Humans who went out into strange new worlds and new civilisations were exactly the sorts of people for whom half a stick of dynamite was an ideal solution to most of life's problems.
This was merely a fine point of order to Grax, currently huddled in a Human Guide's arms in the middle of what sounded like a war zone. Neither of them had intended to be in a war zone, they had just happened to be performing archaeology in a continent that also had valuable limited mineral resources... that two other factions decided to have a battle over. Human Jess had been quick about finding a place of shelter, and insisted on shielding Grax with their body.