[ WP ] We did n't use to be alone in the universe . but as far as we can tell , we are now .

Humans have been fighting since our brains evolved teeth that could bite and arms that could strike. We ’ ve spent longer fighting than most species have even existed. We ’ re really good at approaching a situation, assessing it, forming a strategy, and then annihilating every other species in the general area. When we run out of other species to fight, we fight each other. We ’ ve had millions of years to hone our fighting instincts, I almost felt sorry for the rest of the galaxy when we developed the dimensional-travel drives, but then I remembered that I ’ m one of the humans, so I thought: fuck'em. 
 
 
 We first ventured out, fearful that we would encounter another species like our own, just with better technology, or smarter, or faster, or superior in any way. Instead we found a mostly vast galaxy, which, in hindsight, was mostly populated with peaceful societies that simply did not understand how to fight. At the moment of expansion however, our first contact colored ours, and conversely, the entire galaxy ’ s experience. 
 
 
 The first species we came across the Hunnucks, hulking, long lived creatures we encountered barely a hundred light-years away. They were brutal scavengers that plundered sparsely inhabited planets with inferior technology and they were headed towards earth. They had big fierce ships and some pretty impressive weaponry, but no real understanding of three-dimensional warfare tactics, and no real will to fight. There is an anecdote that after the humans destroyed one of the first battleships they sent with a nuke, their armada leader contacted the head of strategic command and asked: “ What did you just do to us? ” Strategic command used his communication to trace him to a smaller support ship and launched a nuclear warhead at his ship. Once his ship was destroyed, the rest of the large force scattered. We spent the better part of the next century mopping up the Hunnucks. 
 
 
 Once we defeated them in that initial attack, they took on guerilla and terrorist tactics, hiding among other alien populations, striking at human ships whenever they could and fleeing, and we, humans, did what we do best. We followed them to the corners of the galaxy until the threat was eliminated. They found allies in almost every system, they would hide among the local populations. *You ’ re either with us, or our enemy* became the credo of Strategic Command and entire planets were wiped out, in order to root out the ten or fifteen thousand Hunnecks hiding in their midst. A single Hunneck was a threat to human existence they said. Few populations put up any real resistance, because we were humans, we had the nukes, and they had, well they had little more than pitchforks and slingshots. The Hunnecks, however, were a different story they had those big plasma cannons, which could take out an entire Africa-Class destroyer with a single strike. Or at least they could until we developed virtual-shielding technology late in the 24th century, then the plasma cannons became pretty much useless. 
 
 
 But we did not stop *exploring* and the Hunnecks continued to harass us as we *explored* the galaxy. We charted new stellar phenomena and found entire planets of minerals so rare on earth, we had yet to discover what to do with them, all while constatly vigilant of the Hunneck threat, looming in every new system, hiding in every asteroid field. Finding local populations became rarer and rarer, until our fleet could go out for extended explorations and fail to *discover* a single new civilization. Occasionally, we would find the Hunneck allies, but we didn ’ t even bother classifying them as civilizations, any population who sheltered the Hunneck deserved no official mention, just another “ allied population ” eliminated, another support structure for the Hunneck removed. A military memo, lost to the digital dewey decimal system of filing. 
 
 
 The Hunneck last stand happened out near Cygnus X-1. It ’ s a black hole, but it glows blue when you get near enough. The Hunnecks were cornered by the sixth exploration fleet and put up quite a fight, taking out at least two destroyers with some new relativistic weapon before we were able to overcome them and blast the last of the terrorists into whatever afterlife they believed in. 
 
 
 Twenty-five years later the astro-archaeologists set out in their unarmed fleets, to explore the remnants of the Hunnecks. What they found on each planet were records of terror and fear spread by the Hunnecks. Local populations were largely peaceful and simply didn ’ t have the resources to fight the Hunneck threat when they appeared, and so often gave in and sheltered them out of fear. We obliterated them because we never bothered to even say hello. I ’ m reminded of earth history, when the barbarians would sweep down from the steppes and annihilate entire towns, leaving mounds of smoldering bodies in their wake. Earth is the steppes, we are the barbarians, and the galaxy is empty now, filled with the ruins we have left behind. 
 
 Or maybe everyone is just hiding...
