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The Nature of Predators 2-43
🕑 Added 2024-06-03 11:00:11 +0000 UTCMemory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: July 28, 2160
The bunker’s qualities grew more bizarre as we pressed deeper into it, moving into the connecting central room. A decaying desk sat in an office, along with what looked like a vault; there appeared to be mostly depleted armory alcoves scattered throughout the complex. The question was whether Mafani had snatched their contents, or if they’d vanished long before he arrived here—assuming he was, in fact, hiding here. General Radai allowed for the collection of evidence as we continued the sweep; the Resket made a point to send physical literature we found up to the surface. Many of their contents were unreadable, but from what we could parse, they were plays. Perhaps we could use the pages to accurately date them, and analysts could extract more from the crumbling paper.
In one wing of the bunker network, there was a central display with chairs clustered around; once again, it seemed they weren’t quadruped-friendly. If the prey species weren’t so meek and feckless—and much too undisciplined to have any semblance of martial structure—I would’ve thought it was a military command center. On a raised platform, there were rows of computer monitors that had long since burned out. General Radai inspected them, before having their hard drives added to the evidence repository. Whatever operation the Sivkit Grand Herd conducted on Tellus, knowing more about it could indicate why they’d returned here in the first place. I tailed Quana to the central display, which still had a faint glow by the activation strip; the Jaslip seemed quite keen to get immediate answers, still on the warpath over this discovery.
“What secrets is this place hiding?” The carnivore’s whiskers twitched, before she pressed her paw to the scanner. “Talk to me, ghosts. I don’t trust that the Consortium will be forthcoming with Jaslips.”
The lights beneath the dust-covered glass flickered to life; a process began loading at the Jaslip’s touch, reviving the outdated computer system. Gress inched up beside me, uncertainty in his eyes, and I thought back to the days when he’d ranted that humans were “the Sivkits but worse.” The Krev didn’t hold a high opinion of the grazers. I imagined he’d been repeating his questions, about them taking despite having enough in the Federation, when we shot their expedition ships. The two of us were ready to hear some crazy, prey-brained rhetoric from any surviving documents. I arched my eyebrows as a Sivkit appeared on the screen, standing on two legs. His eyes were weary and defeated, but he looked to have more fortitude than his species’ reputed timidness.
“This is General Anxsel of the Sivkit Grand Farmhood. I’m recording this for posterity; if you’re finding this, it’s likely years after they’ve erased us, and taken everything from our culture. I can see where this is going,” the Sivkit murmured. “I only hope whoever is finding this isn’t from the Galactic Federation. We recognized the only way to keep records safe from their cleansing was to hide them somewhere…without people for their sensors to detect. It’s a thin hope, but we don’t have much else.”
A chill ran down my spine. “Gress? They’re talking about the Federation…like they’re the bad guys.”
“I…noticed. They’re saying the Federation…erased them,” the Krev replied. “Like they thought they were crazy too once…”
“…but weren’t given a choice,” Quana finished. “Farmhood is certainly different from their unsustainable practices today.”
I grinned at the Jaslip. “I told you the bipedal statue meant something!”
“Enough!” Radai hissed. “I want to hear what this tape says. For all we know, this message will only play once.”
“…to our scientists, there was no saving the ecology of our homeworld.” Anxsel was overlaying his feed with images, many of flames and dying crop fields. There were entire cities visible. “We’d accepted the aliens’ help, perhaps knowing we couldn’t defy them…fighting wouldn’t have made a difference. They touted some phantom threat: the Hunger; they expect our claws to quake at anything ‘predatory.’ I suspect they will cover up that it was them who forced a mass exodus from our planet. Perhaps whoever hears this in the future, you won’t even know the ground you stand on once belonged to the Sivkits, the land of our ancestors.”
“What?!” Cherise and I blurted at the same time.
Is this guy really trying to claim this—Tellus, our second Earth—was the Sivkits’ homeworld?! But it’s…a desert. This is the only trace of them, so it can’t be! Maybe this was a colony that went wrong, and tipped the Federation off to their presence. Still…either way, weren’t the Feds’ only victims. This changes…a lot. Everything.
Anxsel’s ears drooped. “I hate writing my species’ eulogy, yet I want some record of what we were. Sivkits’ agricultural manuals let us create a garden, until they trampled us. To think it was that green, excess beauty that attracted them, detecting our biosphere from far away. We once had nature societies performing wilderness theater, with the greatest works of our people—works they’ve banished for being predator-diseased, but we tucked away on shelves.”
“Wilderness theater? As a fan of stageplay, I’d be curious to see that,” Gress murmured. “We have to try to save the books. For the sake of cultural preservation.”
“The ships in the sky were a curse,” Anxsel continued, not giving me time to reply to the Krev. “Verdant Tinsas was covered in flames within days of their arrival. Giant wildfires were started amid the brush; these became uncontrollable blazes, some of which swept through cities. They piled animal corpses on the outskirts of our cities, so they could burn them more efficiently—but not all of them were fully corpses. Not all of them were animals either.”
“They…the exterminators burned Sivkits along with innocent animals?!” Cherise tried to close her slack-jawed mouth. “We…need to share this with the Federation. I had no idea they forced their ideas on other herbivores; they just all seemed that way. The Sivkits need to know the truth. It could help in the war, bringing people to their side.”
I snorted. “We shouldn’t do anything. Whatever’s happened to them, they’re still filled with hatred for us in the present time. They’ll never listen to ‘predator deceit.’ It would just give them extra incentive to take this world…our home, just when things are getting better.”
“We’ll build you as many homes as you need,” Gress whispered.
“Yeah, and we just get enclaves, on worlds that will never belong to us, where you can keep an eye on us,” Quana hissed.
“Even if you had a whole world, you’d only inhabit a hyper-particular climate. What’s wrong with making use of land that we don’t use, and reducing our chance of detection?”
“Would you take leftovers for the Krev?”
“If it meant Lecca would be even a little bit safer, yes! Don’t you get it? How close we were to being the Sivkits?”
“Not another word!” Radai shrieked.
“…mass famines they caused, we had no choice but to go with them, when the evacuation ships arrived. They could’ve let us die, granted, but I suspect they want us under control. With each species assimilated, their power grows. An unstoppable juggernaut,” General Anxsel lamented. “The more people believe a lie, the more convincing it is—cult mentality at its simplest. I’m sad to see Sivkits being broken into their ranks of powerless prey, and taught to forget who we are. The other aliens in their group have become caricatures too, likely by similar mechanisms.”
That entire band of xenos…were laughable caricatures, reduced to one trait. Is there more going on with the Federation than just hating predators? Clearly…the founders do, and they’ve forced others to go along with it. We might be saving more than ourselves by going after the first three members. It doesn’t matter that we can’t call back the drones now!
The Sivkit slumped his shoulders. “I fear the worst. I’ve noticed a sudden…almost ubiquitous spike in Sivkits born with a back disorder. They claim that it has nothing to do with the translator implants, and what they might’ve injected alongside it. They claim the bombs they’re moving into orbit are to finish the extermination job—and it’s true they’re not the first. They say that the special classes they’re putting our species in, by themselves, are to catch us up, but dumbing—”
Anxsel’s likeness flickered out, followed by an error message: data corrupted. From what we had all heard, it had become evident the Consortium was more right than they realized to hide from the Federation. What we had just learned went beyond lunacy; this was active malevolence, dished out beyond sapients who were unfortunate enough to have eyes like mine. So many things popped out at me from the Sivkit’s message, but what hit the closest to home was Gress’ realization—that the Krev were a mere system away from being in the Sivkits’ position. The sweet, primate-loving hostage negotiator could’ve been molded to hate me. He would’ve been as spineless and frightful as every alien from Earth’s vicinity.
The level that the Federation had seemingly gone to, creating back disorders for some reason—it didn’t make sense. All the same, the evidence was plain as day, with modern Sivkits being quadrupedal. What could have been gained from making them walk on four paws? Every bit of the news shocked me to my core, especially knowing why their ruins existed on our new home. The peculiarity stretched into how this was the first trace of their civilization we’d found on this world. I gathered from Anxsel’s message that Tellus had been bombed; there must’ve been a cover-up that was much more thorough that even the Consortium’s operation on Esquo, given the odd behavior we’d noticed from scouts in the Jaslip system.
Maybe the Sivkits came here because they had figured out what was done to them…except that they returned with the Federation in tow. I don’t want to be driven off of another planet either way. Still, that does compound my guilt over killing them…I can’t imagine what it was like for Anxsel. I pity the Sivkits more than I thought possible.
What would humanity have felt if this was discovered before Earth was a burning ball of rubble? Perhaps this information could’ve saved my species, by revealing the Federation’s insidious heart. The only difference was that we ate meat and had binocular eyes, so they killed us rather than conforming us to their ways. It was impressive that this data had survived for what looked like centuries, with engineering strong enough to preserve most of Anxsel’s message for us. Maybe there was still time to make this right with other victims, and to seek out further information by venturing into Sivkit space. I knew Radai had no intention of taking suggestions from me, but if he signed off on such an idea, perhaps I could compel him to let me atone for my prior missteps by joining the mission. Honor demanded that I address my own mistakes.
“Why did the Federation leave, after the Sivkits?” Gress blurted. “We’ve never seen them push into our space.”
Cherise furrowed her brow. “You weren’t advanced enough, when this happened, for them to lock onto you. The Consortium is a mere hundred years old.”
General Radai’s face hardened, before he turned to us. “This is the enemy, soldiers. This is a war we cannot lose. I would choose death over seeing my species forced to grovel in the dirt…”
“Easy for you to say, when your species isn’t actually dead,” I grumbled, near inaudible.
“And rich coming from a Resket. They told the Jaslips groveling was better to death; we’re so unreasonable,” Quana snarled.
The pink avian’s head snapped toward us, though he didn’t acknowledge our words. “Anxsel said that with each species the Federation assimilates, their power grows. They will be unstoppable, if we wait any longer—we must not hide. Tellus is a desert now, and that is what our homes will look like a thousand years from now, if they win. The Consortium will not bow in fear, as they do. We will fight. We will win!”
Just like we won the battle at Tellus, when they came for us. This is about more than Earth. Gress put it best, saying how there was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice to make Lecca a tiny bit safer from them. That’s why we fight.
“We may have our scars and points of contention, but we stand together, in the face of pure evil. Against all threats, we meet them at our gates! The Consortium is the last bastion of rationality and acceptance,” Radai continued. “We’ll fight for safety, to know that such atrocities will never be done to us—because we would never. This is a sight most dishonorable. We have a duty to rebuild where they have destroyed. Tellus, Earth, and Esquo must rise again. Let us excise the rot at our heart today, so we can cleanse theirs tomorrow. Mafani doesn’t leave this place. Am I clear?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes, sir!”
“Good. Then move out! Check every last corner!”
“We could reclaim Earth, if we disband the Federation.” Gress placed a paw on my shoulder, as we hurried to the furthest recesses of the complex—an area Mafani could’ve set up shop. “I’d hate having you so far away, but it’d be beautiful for humans to have your home back. It won’t stay destroyed in the long run.”
“I hope we resettle it someday. Losing Earth, billions dead—it can’t ever be the same. They m-might try to cover it up, like they did with the Sivkits…” I murmured.
“We have the vaults. We’ll remember what was lost from our culture. Earth will carry on through us, as was intended all along,” Cherise commented.
The Krev shouldered his gun, jogging to keep up. “You can display everything that makes you human with pride…no masks or censorship. Even back then, Emergency Order 56 stifled your self-expression. That’s over. None of us have to hide anymore.”
“Unless I want to avoid you staring with that dumb look as I brush my teeth.”
“But you make weird expressions. It’s adorable!”
“You’re insufferable. Some days, I want to rip your scales out one at a time.”
“No, you don’t. You like the attention.”
I scoffed. “What? You’re way off the mark, herbivore xeno.”
“I don’t think so. I could give you as much attention as you wanted, Taylor.”
Words dried up in my throat, while I ignored the watchful gazes of Cherise and Quana. All I could think about was how purifying his earlier embrace had been, and how the kind words he’d say to me and about me felt like rivers running through my heart. It took a colossal effort to redirect my focus to sweeping the complex, as we left the military command center; I knew now that it was the last stand of soldiers fighting the Federation, against their claims that prey were incapable of such measures. Our unit ventured into the last uncharted area, which looked to be the largest wing. It seemed like a mix of living quarters and entertainment facilities, where the important figures meant to hide out here would’ve stayed. Instead of a couch, there were hammocks suspended by television screens; fake tree trunks formed their supports.
I began wondering to myself how the Sivkits were supposed to evacuate down to this bunker, since we’d yet to find an entrance other than the one we blasted. Mafani must’ve gotten in here somehow—assuming he even was hiding in this complex. That meant we should look for a way down, to determine if this was even accessible from the surface at all. Whatever was supposed to facilitate transit to and from this construction might’ve collapsed in the eons of time that had passed, or when the Federation dropped those bombs Anxsel mentioned. As if in response to my mental wonderings, I spotted a tiny, rusted lift—it looked more like a birdcage than an elevator. Ironic. Assuming the machine was still operational, the nine-foot-tall avian would’ve had to fold up like a pretzel the whole way down to fit; it clearly wasn’t built to accommodate his size.
Special forces were sending surveillance drones ahead of us, which alerted us as they detected a slight heat disturbance in the room beside the television area. Turrets mounted on the ceiling eviscerated our unmanned aerial vehicles moments later, taking out our eyes. Alertness surged into my veins; there was no doubt, unless for some reason the Sivkits wanted to set a trap for the posterity they’d left a message for, that Mafani was here. With construction this old, explosives were too risky; it could bring the whole place down on our heads. I watched as Radai directed specialists to chuck in localized EMPs, neutralizing any automated defenses the former Underscale had on his side. With one gun, the fight was stacked in our favor.
The turrets were disabled with an EMP grenade, along with anything else lurking behind it. Radai ordered the special forces forward, and I hurried behind the expert marksmen. I could see a hint of pink feathers from behind a wardrobe, which had been pushed out enough for him to squeeze up against. The Resket general had said Mafani would go down fighting, so I was expecting him to try to take us with him. My eyes pointed directly at his hiding spot, remembering how he’d longed for my suffering; he’d left me to a miserable death by sun poisoning. I could still feel it burning in my skin sometimes, like my entire outer casing had been turned to lava. My finger tugged on the trigger, blowing off fragments of the wardrobe in haze of fury.
“Stop! I surrender.” The sinister Resket poked his wings out tentatively, and with the general ordering us to cease fire, I hesitated. Who cares if taking out a surrendering enemy was dishonorable when he’s a piece of shit? “I’m coming out. I’m unarmed.”
Radai cleared his throat. “Lay down flat on the ground.”
“Hang on. What do you say to a dueling invitation, General?”
“I am not wagering to let you go. It’s not my decision to make.”
“Oh no. You see, Radai, I just want you taken out for ruining my career. Throwing me off of my own line of work, siding with half-brained minions. I’m stronger than you. I can beat you in a duel, you soft—”
“I accept the duel. I’ll have no trouble putting down the likes of you.”
What the fuck is wrong with Radai? I thought he was letting me get my revenge, not squaring off with the prick over his own pride. Screw this. I don’t care what he wants.
The Reskets prowled to opposite sides of the room, talons tense. I raised my rifle right at Mafani’s head, feeling years of bloodlust rise to a crescendo—pure, unbridled hatred for all of those who’d wronged me. The poison went straight to my heart, blotting out all of the light and compassion. The hurt was enough to drown in, and this was a chance to do something about it. What could I have done to deserve being kicked by everyone and everything? No good deed went unpunished, but all I’d done was try to stop the bigotry being hurled at Quana. The universe tried to kill me for empathizing with another down-on-their-luck xeno…for showing growth. For caring. My teeth grated against each other, jaw locking in anger. Decision made, a finger began to curl.
“Taylor, no.” Gress wrapped his claws around my forearm, pushing the gun down. He stared at me with forlorn eyes. “Don’t let your hatred control you. It’ll only deepen the scars, and create more troubles over your perceived inability to follow orders. He is not worth that.”
Mafani’s head snapped over to us, before he snickered maliciously. “Ah, Gress. We met a few years back, you know.”
“You’re wrong. I’ve never had anything to do with the Underscales.”
The wicked Resket chuckled. “But we had plenty to do with you. Remember how those Jaslips wanted to prove a point, about you choosing the elites over the children?”
“It wasn’t like that. Don’t bother trying to rile me up.”
“I’m just reminiscing. I was there too, Gress. The Jaslips…lacked conviction to follow through. We helped. I put the bullet just perfectly into that one kit’s throat, so that he’d bleed out right in your arms. Terrorists and Gress taken out in one fell swoop.”
I recoiled in shock, unable to believe what Mafani had just claimed. The Underscales had killed the Jaslip children…and for the purpose of “taking out” Gress?! Why would the Krev black ops faction want a hostage negotiator, who cared so dearly for the Consortium and for saving lives, taken out? I would’ve thought the Resket was messing with us, except his voice had a distinct certainty to it—and he knew how the last kit had died down to a tee. A look that I had never seen in Gress’ eyes turned them to ice, burying flashes of betrayal and broken realization. He raised his gun in an instant, firing a shot before I could stop him. The bullet pierced Mafani’s neck, like the kits, about the same time as an incensed Quana buried a round in a close-by location. The Jaslip’s teeth were bared, hearing the Underscales were the real kit-killers.
“Gress? Snap out of it,” I pleaded, to no response.
I jostled Gress’ arm, but he shrugged me off; the Krev marched over to Mafani with claws extended. Radai shrieked at my exchange partner in fury, charging at him with wings outstretched. To my horror, the former hostage negotiator raised his weapon at the general, holding him off at gunpoint.
“Did. You. Know?” the Krev grunted, barely able to string words together.
Radai looked insulted. “Of course I didn’t. The Underscales act disgracefully. Why do you think I’d spit on the name of honor like that?”
“Gress, stand down! Please,” I begged. “You said Mafani’s not worth it.”
The green-scaled mammal hissed, before spraying a gurgling Mafani in the face via the Krev’s tail gland. I gasped as Gress knelt down, slicing his claws through the Resket’s existing wound. General Radai seized the opportunity while his back was turned, and with a headbutt, sent Gress flying back into the wall. I winced as my exchange partner yelped, and the pain seemed to snap him back to reality. He’d lost his grip on the gun, and stared at his claws, which were now covered in pink blood. My legs left me to sprint between him and Radai, trying to stop the Resket from losing it on him.
“Sir, he’s having a flashback episode. Have mercy. Please!” I begged, raising both arms to ward off the avian.
Radai scoffed. “A memory scanner will tell. He willfully defied orders and held me at fucking gunpoint! I’ll demand answers from the Underscales, but you will not be a member of the Consortium military again, Gress. And what’s your excuse, Jaslip?”
“Mafani had it coming, sir,” the Jaslip barked coldly. “I’ll neutralize anyone who admits to slaughtering my people’s children. Do your worst.”
I moved over to comfort a watery-eyed Gress, easing him away from all of the noise. I quietly cleaned the blood off of his claws with my shirt, not daring to break the subject of what Mafani had just claimed. When my exchange partner was ready, it was important to discuss why the Consortium would’ve wanted him out of the picture…and what they would’ve gained from giving the Jaslips a perfect propaganda piece with dead children. Taking out the Resket who’d left me in the desert to die was supposed to be more satisfying, yet now, all I felt was concern for the person who meant everything to me. I wouldn’t let my Krev companion break inside all over again.
A/N - Chapter 43! General Anxsel recounts what little he could salvage of the Sivkits’ real culture, foreseeing that the Federation would erase them, and details the exact Fed policies of cultural genocide to the Consortium—who have mixed feelings between the Federation’s threat being even more dire, and also knowing that with this being Tinsas, relocating Jaslips was pointless. Matters are made worse as Mafani claims that he was responsible for shooting the Jaslip kits in the infamous incident, not the terrorist, in a government-sanctioned Underscale hit. Gress goes berserk and literally rips Mafani’s throat out, which results in a discharge from the military.
What will General Radai do about everything he’s just learned, and what effects will it have across the Consortium? Will Taylor be able to help Gress out of this complete, utter breakdown? Is it possible for the Sivkits to return to the old culture they lost…and will the KC warm to them?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Andrew Boivin
Holy shit, somehow I missed this one when it was posted and started reading the new one wayyyyy confused!
harkange 585
The more things progress the more we see how bad the consortium is, they spy on everyone to the point the only option to stay hidden is to refuse all implants and live like an ermit. They actively manipulate people to make sure nobody questions the actions taken against the jaslips by radicalising those who remain and creating a cycle of hatred (not to disimilar to the rise of islamophobia/antisemitism in recent years). Lastly they take out or at least marginalise any who could potentially rise against the governement (gress being framed and jaslip terrorist groups being good examples)
Guardian
Prediction: Something discovered in the Sivkit cultural bunker-archive will provide the answer to the Bissem ecological crisis. Although, to be completely honest, I'm still definitely on Yannis' "orange algae = delicious to Sivkits" Train. Maybe the predictions don't necessarily have to be mutually exclusive.
