[ 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 .

`` Humans are n't peaceful, though,'' said Arin. `` What idiot ever thought that was true?'' 
 
 The human base camp loomed like a row of missile silos in front of them, the glass panes of the interconnecting walkways catching the sun. Arin was cocooned in a hazmat suit of polyethelene fibers, the low hiss of his breathing apparatus whispering death in his ears. From inside its protective bubble, the pale green Tellurian ballooned softly, extending inquisitive tendrils at Arin's remark. 
 
 `` That's not meant as a slur on humans,'' Arin said. All around them there was life, delicate alien life, from the thriving microbial colonies in the soil to the towering sporangial psuedo-fronds of a clade yet uncategorized by humanity. The human camp sat like a time bomb in their midst. `` No species is peaceful. Violence is inherent to sentient life. Competition. Except for maybe the Kapelli?'' Arin frowned. `` They're a gaseous species without limbs or really any form of locomotion other than wind currents. You could suffocate on them, I suppose. And they can allegedly be very cruel towards each other. No one really understands Kapelli insults, though.'' 
 
 The Tellurian tweaked the sensors in its bubble, flowing outward like mist, and the crude translator crackled to life. `` Humans. No. Hurt. Not. Intentional.'' 
 
 `` Intent, sure,'' said Arin bitterly, and sat down, fingers digging into the soil. `` No culture acts with the intent of causing suffering. It's always a side-effect, an unfortunate reality of the process. They want exploration, they want understanding, they want conquest. They want a little living space. They want to bring the natives to god and save their immortal souls. And surprise, surprise, no matter the reason, people keep dying.'' 
 
 `` Humans. Do. Best,'' the Tellurian said, its translator struggling to keep up. It pressed against the transparent plastic. `` Seek. Peace. Always. Do. Study. How. Not. To. Hurt.'' 
 
 `` But that's part of the process, is n't it?'' Arin said. `` How do you study something without disrupting it? Without - without imposing on it?'' He chuckled. `` Humans could n't even figure how do that with each other. They'd cross the seas and find another branch of themselves, so incomprehensibly foreign. Even if we're ignoring all the stories of conquest, of -'' he crooked two fingers on each hand and pronounced the word with a sneer. `` -'civilization,' we're left with anthropological curiosities, material for museums and documentaries. We're left with isolated tribes being preserved in a bubble even as the environments around them are razed away and paved over. Either you incorporate them into the vast global community - and in so doing, do an irreversible violence to them - or you resign them to inconsequential reservations. There's no way out!'' 
 
 Arin glanced down at the Tellurian. His rant was being translated into electrical currents, run through the Tellurian's body in an attempt at communication, and it writhed in something that might or might not have been pain. The translator buzzed static, not coming up with a response. 
 
 `` We want to believe,'' Arin said softly, `` that deep down we're all essentially the same, that sentience is somehow this universal uniting factor and that we can all appreciate and respect each others' differences and we can all just get along.'' He looked down at his gloved hands, and imagined the skin beneath them, and the blood and bone and cells beyond that, until he was composed of nothing but teeming viral hostilities. `` But that's not true, is it?'' 
 
 The Tellurian twisted in on itself and choked out incomprehensible static songs. 
 
 `` We breathe and people die. We arrive on a new shore, teeming with life, and people die from the exposure. We're viral. We're bacterial. We're inimical to foreign life. We're - we're a culture,'' Arin said, his voice growing desperate. `` We're ideology and language, we're science and engineering, we're politics and we're art. We're consciousness! We see the world and we struggle to understand it, we force it to make sense to us, because that's how we survive. And then we meet something totally foreign, totally alien, and we try our best to understand, and then - and then -'' Arin let his hands fall. `` Do you know how long it took us to even realize the Kapelli were alive?'' he said. `` Do you know how many of them we killed before we figured it out?'' 
 
 `` Thousands,'' said the Tellurian, its electronic voice coalescing back into words. `` Tragedy. But. Not. To. Blame. Did. Your. Best.'' 
 
 `` You're right,'' said Arin, and looked at the cleared patch of land the base camp was built on, the telltale signs of machinery that had cleared it, the buildings containing evidence of a hundred unintentional genocides. He spoke, and another electrical shock ran through the Tellurian's frame. `` We do our best.''
