At the end of the first battle, the war was, technically, still happening, and promised to continue on for years more until humanity could reach the Canteron or until the Canteron sent an ambassador to the humans for peace negotiations. The Canteron could surrender, of course, but they won’t. And humans, as it turns out, neither surrender nor give mercy on an enemy in war.
But no more battles were ever fought in the war of the Humans and the Canteron. In the end, they reached a peace agreement: the humans would keep the warships they had taken from the Canteron army, but return all weapons, computer data, and the remaining captured soldiers to their home. In return, the Canteron would cease aggressive acts on human civilization and return the planet Hortus to its rightful owners, the Frid. It took many months to negotiate this deal, and it would have gone faster if all the humans had agreed on what to do with Hortus, but there was a fraction of them who wanted to take the planet for themselves. What eventually changed their mind was the crew of the Quick Sliver and several other pirate vessels declaring that if they didn’t give the Frid the planet that had been meant for them, they would declare war on their own species.
Ever since then, it has been generally agreed that the only thing that will scare a human is another human.
The war between Humans and Canteron and its aftermath marked a turning point in the history of both species.
For humans, it was a welcome door into the galactic community that accelerated their progress. Within a decade, they had made more progress than they should have in the next hundred years. They colonized their second ever world: the planet Mars of their own solar system, within a year. I expected it to be the first of many more worlds for them, whether they were peacefully handed over or won in battle. Time has proved me partially correct: humans now claim full ownership of several level 0 planets and partial rights to other low-level worlds that they share with other species. And those who can safely be around humans without protective gear often get into bidding wars to hire human crew members onto their ships.
The Canteron, on the other hand, have been an interstellar species for many generations, and they had all the confidence in the world. And humans have reminded them that just because they have more planets in their empire than other species, that does not mean they are invincible. They decided not to run the risk of angering any more Deathworlders. They are quieter now, more subdued, and no human may ever step foot on a planet they live on. Doing so without reason is considered an open act of warfare. In the end, this is more a threat to the Canteron and others like them than to the humans.
I went back to Earth for a few more months: I watched the memorial service for the Canteron, the burning of their bodies and the spreading of their ashes. I watched humans figure out how to work the warships, and I got to witness the first conversational uses of galactic common between humans and other species.
I also bore witness to the first ever meeting between human ambassadors and the galactic library. It came in the form of an archivist many years my senior: Schandri of the Andoeenr, who took a keen interest in the aftermath of the war and the effect it had on the development of both species. She has since published many books on the topic, which I have relied on heavily to write this narrative.
Sandra Wright, researcher for the galactic library, planetary surveyor, and the only person who has ever followed me off a planet and all the way back to a Galactic Library, has also written several books on the topic of humanity and the changes that interstellarization had on their culture and community. Her most well-known works are “‘Hello, is anyone there?’: Interviews with humans after first contact,” and “Get Me Off This Planet: The Unique Drive of Deathworlders to Leave (or Not Leave) Their Homeworld.” I also recommend “Don’t Panic: A Deathworlder’s Guide to a Mostly Harmless Universe.”
My work would be nothing without the Librarian, Schandri, Skaalt, and the countless other people who opened their hearts and homes to me during my time on Earth. So with the last few words of their book, I thank them, each and every one. They are the ones who make our galaxy a worthwhile place to live in. And their legacy, here preserved for eternity, will live on many years after they and I are gone.
Most of all, I thank Sandra, for reading the rough draft of this book and helping me decide what notes to keep and what to throw out. And for convincing me to make this book a love letter to humanity, among other things. You are a guiding star in the dark desert sky, and I will follow you over whatever dune you point to.
And finally, I thank you, reader. For digging through what must have been a truly massive library to find this book and still bothering to read it after all that. You are the ones who make all of this worth it.
This story is also published on Archive of Our Own, where the story is being published in addition to the blog. To read more, follow me here or on AO3 or Tumblr
