[ WP ] Despite being peaceful , humans are universally feared through out the galaxy as harbingers of death . They are hosts to the most dangerous diseases and bacteria ever discovered . Average number of fatalities from a single human exposure is ~8,000 with some exceptions . Avoid at all costs .

A flurry of chemicals rained from He-Who-Smells-Like-Wisdom's olfactory sac. He had been deliberating for 214 milliseconds straight and it was high time to finally speak out. 
 
 He-Who-Smells-Like-Decaying-Predators reluctantly stretched his calvarium open. He knew what his conversation partner was going to say: it did n't take a genius to figure out that the old fart - who has been against the proposed sterilization of the planet of Those-Who-Smell-Like-Disease since they had been discovered - would reject the proposal to direct a small asteroid at the newfound planet, even though the resulting fallout would n't kill them, merely reduce their population to a much safer level. 
 
 He-Who-Smells-Like-Decaying-Predators gently waved his olfactory tendrils in the calvarium and considered his comrade's arguments. 
 
 *Smell of Those-Who-Smell-Like-Disease compounded with the smell of hatchlings* 
 
 Yes. They are helpless and innocent. He agreed with his rival in that respect. Still, that does n't stop them from being a threat. 
 
 *Smell of The-Planet-Of-Those-Who-Smell-Like-Disease compounded with the smell of ripe carbohydrateworms* 
 
 Yes. The planet is fertile. Rendering it barren would make it impossible to put military outposts there in the future. Maybe He-Who-Smells-Like-Wisdom was right, after all? Although he did n't smell like nervous tissue anymore - he smelled like old age, truth to be told - it was impossible to deny that he had a point. 
 He-Who-Smells-Like-Decaying-Predators relaxed his calvarium, letting the aerolymph escape out of his tired dome. He hated making decisions that did n't involve attacking those who do n't remotely smell like his own nest. Especially when he was hungry. 
 
 Like on cue, She-Who-Smells-Like-Glowing-Petals flew into their bubble. She was bearing two large, squirming carbohydrateworms. He-Who-Smells-Like-Decaying-Predators could n't help but draw the distal appendages of his olfactory tendrils towards her - he'd never met a female who smelled like that before. She was as sexy as a female whose posterior sheath was full of steaming ova - yet at the same time she was the cutest thing he'd ever met - he swore he could smell a faint shade of a neonateous distress call. She expelled a spurt of endorphines at both of the warlords and left the carbohydrateworms in front of them. As she was about to leave, He-Who-Smells-Like-Decaying-Predators expelled a spurt of endorphines back at her. She flashed infrared at him as she was leaving. 
 
 Damn. That was awkward. He did n't need to blow that much endorphine at her. It made him look desperate. What's wrong with him? 
 
 
 

