spacepaladin15
patreon
The Nature of Predators 2-27
🕑 Added 2024-04-08 11:00:08 +0000 UTCMemory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Alien Liaison
Date [standardized human time]: May 14, 2160
While Dustin’s kind hardly looked like ferocious predators, Kaisal had quite the intimidating stature. His teeth were visible poking out of his elongated snout, serrated fangs that could eviscerate a Bissem in a flash of feathers if he so desired. The forward-facing eyes were narrowed to slits, which left him with a perpetual scowl on his face. The gray hide of scales seemed rougher than gravel, and coated his entire body: back to the powerful hindlegs tailored to leaping at prey and a lashing tail with spiky protrusions. He towered over even Naltor, who was from the largest Bissem subspecies, despite the fact the reptile was hunched forward as he stalked ahead. All the while, claws like a saber pointed at us from his raised forepaws.
Had I not known the Arxur’s gruesome history, I wouldn’t have judged a fellow sapient for being fearsome. I might’ve appreciated Kaisal’s unique adaptations, and expressed my usual bundle of enthusiasm to learn about his culture. However, this was a species that spent centuries rounding up fellow sapients; starvation alone didn’t excuse that, whatever Onso might think. Humanity left Wriss in isolation without further remediation, for reasons I couldn’t understand. I’d heard what Dustin said about seeing the best in others and trying to build something better from history’s dark pages, but how could any of those things seem possible with these people-eaters? Why would Bissems want these creatures out of quarantine any more than the rest of the galaxy?
Onso is much too clever to assume we can be played like ice chimes. He must know there’s nothing they can say that’d change my perspective—and that we want nothing to do with the Arxur.
The Federation involvement mentioned by the Yotul didn’t make sense either, with how staunch their anti-predator stance was…and them being at the root of the Arxur’s supposedly forced diet. Why would the Federation want their citizens to be turned into livestock? Onso claimed that it suited their narrative, but I couldn’t even begin to understand the implications of that. So many alien regimes had been beyond insane; they cared so little for life, and took their villainy to the extreme. Kaisal was from one of the two factions behind the terrible things I’d learned in the stars, and I found myself itching to rip his excuses to shreds. While we needed aid and wanted to send a message to the Fed remnant faction, it was beneath us to hold a conversation with this monster.
“It’s excellent to meet a fellow hunter. The humans are wily, but they’re still leaf-lickers.” Kaisal’s voice was a low rumble, with hissing sounds that accompanied certain consonants. “You must’ve heard awful things about us. I know they have a tendency to mention us only as the ones who had sapient cattle and no empathy.”
Naltor cast a brazen stare back at the Arxur, rooted in front of me as a shield. “What else is there to mention if that’s the truth? We could always wrap this up early.”
“I don’t care for long conversations, so I won’t dawdle. We’re a solitary species. That didn’t always mean a lack of empathy. It so happens our government culled anyone with affective emotions as a defective. That’s how you get a race of sociopaths, Bissems; you either are one, you play along as one to survive, or you die. The Arxur Dominion celebrated cruelty, and its leaders wanted to maintain a war for power.”
“You’re telling me your government systematically murdered anyone who exhibited empathy. Any sane species would overthrow such madmen long before you got to that point,” I spat.
“There was an entire war being fought over Betterment’s ideas when the Federation arrived—bearing gifts, until they dosed us with meat-allergy serum. Do you know what a horrific death that is, when you can’t eat the only food your species can consume? There’s a reason we hate them. It’s the same reason authoritarians took control, even seized it as an opportunity. I believe the Tseia may have a better idea about how alien attacks change a society.”
Zalk raised a flipper in protest. “Don’t compare yourselves to us. We didn’t start murdering our own, or eating people. Naltor can call us savages all he likes, but we did nothing but try to protect our homes and match their strength.”
“Wrong,” Naltor countered. “I’ll explain to you fully how fucked the Tseia are later; you’re your own brand of fucked, but you aren’t like these aliens. I’d love to hear how this allergy serum turned you from happy carnivores to people eaters.”
“It doesn’t explain how authoritarians consolidated power.” My confidence grew the more I heard, compelling me to provide a rebuttal to the Arxur’s defense. “They can decide to use it to their advantage all they want, but that doesn’t explain why a whole fucking populace would just go along with sapient cattle farms. That didn’t make you okay with it.”
“It’s more that Betterment pushed us to have no alternative. In the same breath as that killer serum, they tried to wipe out the enemy nations’ cattle; between the two attacks, it could’ve starved them out,” Kaisal growled. “That bioweapon took out theirs too, and that opened the door to a desperate solution…which only they’d be willing to carry out. They blamed the Federation for the cattle virus, bringing a level of hatred that left us to ensure they reaped the consequences.”
“You talk so callously about what you’ve done. What kind of species would even think of eating food that talks; capturing them from their homes and shoving them in farms?”
“When you’re hungry enough, true thinking stops. Late-stage starvation makes anything food. That’s why they kept us that way. It was only with both the Federation and the Dominion gone that we could change.”
“It’s difficult to beat a system. It’s near impossible to beat one that you were born into,” Onso spoke up, from where he’d been quietly observing us. “The Arxur became a shell of their former selves, because they made all the worst choices. Yet they did a lot of good in the war that gets overlooked; species like the Duerten and the Dossur exist because the rebels stepped in alongside our efforts. They proved they could work with Yotul ships.”
“When they’re deprived of food, they become animals without higher thought. You heard that admission, and you want them serving alongside us?” I demanded.
“Tassi, those are extreme cases of starvation. Anyone can be driven mad without their basic needs met. I’ll let you in on a secret; however intelligent we might become, we’re all animals. Predator, prey: two sides of the same coin.”
“Sapients can be better than that! We always have control and agency.”
Kaisal smacked his tail on the porch. “Whatever you might think of us, the Arxur saved Earth. If you like the humans, you can thank us for their planet not being a ball of rubble.”
Wait, what?! The humans staved off total extinction by…with help from the loathed carnivores? Why would the Dominion protect Earth; and how did their allies not turn on them, when we get slammed for being linked to the grays in any capacity?
While I was still trying to be resistant to any sympathetic thoughts, out of basic courtesy for Haliska, I was shaken that Dustin left out some important context about the Arxur. It’d never been brought to my attention that the Federation—who was supposedly fighting a war against them—were teaming up with them the whole time, and misleading the public. The fact of the Arxur being starved systematically had also been omitted, making it sound as if they went looking for sapient lunches as soon as they made first contact. Humanity was also happy to construct the tale like Earth’s survival was a miracle, rather than owing their existence to nightmarish carnivores. I couldn’t imagine what state the galaxy would be in without the Terrans, so I could feel a little gratitude if Kaisal’s kind saved them.
“Dustin failed to mention that,” Naltor sighed.
The Arxur leader’s nostrils flared with annoyance. “The humans don’t like to admit that they needed help from an unsavory fleet such as ours, but it’s true. We have always been willing to come to the defense of non-herbivores; something that’d make us a good ally to you, from a pragmatic standpoint.”
“We wouldn’t turn away aid from any source, if Alsh is attacked by exterminator loons again,” Zalk responded. “I’m not ready to bring trouble down on our heads by signing a pact with the galaxy’s most hated faction. We mistrust outsiders to begin with, so I’m not sure how we’d trust anyone with your checkered past.”
“Any historian worth their meat salts will also tell you how important the rebellion fighting back against that Betterment regime is…there were people who hated what we’d become, and I’m proud to say I joined their cause as soon as possible. I fight for peace, and a better legacy that you will not find so repugnant. The Collective strives to end a culture of cruelty and bring satiety to all. Part of our ideal future is making alien friends.”
“You want to be our friends just because we’re obligate carnivores,” I accused.
“That is a primary reason, Tassi. There has never been another species like us. Who would we have more in common with on a biological level? Whose world and culture could we perhaps find a place in? Besides, you’ll be an eye-opening test of the SC. If they cannot accept you, then I know they’ll never accept us.”
“That’s part of why I want to help the Bissems.” Onso pinned his ears back, bushy tail stiffening as he spoke. “I’m not convinced that the Coalition members have shaken off their Federation roots altogether. There’s many that just make a mental exception for humans. I think the Technocracy would be foolish to make an alliance of convenience with anti-carnivores.”
“My cooperation with you should be proof for the Bissems that I care much more for fighting spirit than diet; the Yotul are anything but weak, so we’ve gotten along well. You didn’t care that the wider SC won’t even speak to us.”
“The wider SC called us primitives and looked down on us. They laughed as the Federation wrecked our home. I wonder why we don’t give a fuck what they think?”
Naltor gave me a look. “This is the same SC Tassi wants to join, for some reason. Why do we care what they think of our war?”
“Because we need them! Humanity is trying to pull the galaxy forward—as impossible as that appears,” I retorted.
A hiss emanated from Kaisal’s chest. “We’ve done everything they asked of us, but my people are starting to feel abandoned. We won’t stay in isolation much longer. If they want us to better ourselves, then they need to treat us like allies…and let us join their team, without acting ashamed of us. We don’t want the future to pass us by.”
“It would be an excellent way to leave the predator-prey schism behind once and for all. If the Sapient Coalition could see that Arxur aren’t monsters, that rips the foundation out of the so-called proof for the Federation’s dogma,” Onso declared. “I thought a chat with Kaisal might rip away your misconceptions. Bissems have the chance to be the catalyst for true unity: leaving the war and its divisions behind.”
“That’s a nice ideal, but you can’t be sure it’ll be that simple.” Zalk tilted his head, a skeptical glimmer in his eyes. “Let’s say we got into the Coalition. What happens if they don’t listen to us, with our newness and distinct lack of credibility?”
“I’ve taken the liberty of strengthening our military to a respectable fleet size once more. We don’t want trouble, but let’s just say we’re done with quarantine. It’d be better for everyone if that was as friends. Let us go about our business with those who are ready to move on.”
I shifted on my feet. “It’s only been a few decades since the last war, and you’re willing to go back to battle?”
“We will not fire the first shots. That’s not my wish; I’d rather you convince the SC that we deserve a second chance. It’d be worth your while, and you’d have an ally you don’t have to worry about scaring. I will accept gradual concessions from the leaf-lickers, but we’ve been left out of everything for far too long.”
“Define ‘worth our while.’ Will you give us military technology?” Naltor squawked. “That’s what we need, Kaisal; to increase Ivrana’s standing so we aren’t entirely at their mercy.”
“The Collective would happily provide ships and weapon blueprints in return. As Onso could tell you, that’s the only way they won’t view you as ‘primitives.’ Strength…your own ships will mean they can’t dismiss you, or bar you from the stars on a whim.”
Interest shone in Zalk’s eyes. “Having our own starship fleet would be a game changer. If those ghost exterminators return, we can rise to meet them. However, there’s no way to know you’re good for it before we uphold our part of the deal.”
“We’ll earn your trust, Tseia; we’re not the self-serving species we were twenty years ago. We can work with others as a civilized force. Give us a chance to prove it. Let us bury what the Dominion did, and make a new name for ourselves.”
Do they even deserve a second chance, after what they’ve done? Whatever Kaisal says about fighting back, it was their whole society. They’re willing to get their way by force, so they can’t have changed that much.
“We’ll consider it,” I said. “I can’t pretend your history didn’t exist, but I know I don’t want any more death and war. I want what’s best for Ivrana, and the SC won’t give our problems their full attention if they’re off fighting you.”
The Yotul politician flicked his ear in agreement. “That’s all we ask. In any case, I have a plan to get you a trial role on the SC. I’ll tell them if there’s any way to show you’re divided, it’ll be by giving you a single vote amid a war. It’s up to you to prove them wrong, so I even have a chance to get you a permanent spot.”
“We just need to get in the door. Despite the war, every faction has extended a friendly flipper toward the aliens. Even his.” Naltor gestured toward Zalk, who scoffed in response. “We know we have to get this right, even as we’re fighting among ourselves.”
The Tseia sighed. “I wouldn’t put up with cloacabeaks like you if I didn’t.”
“Thank you, Onso,” I interceded. “We appreciate the introductions and the aid. I think it’s best that we get going, before someone does see us all colluding. We know how this would go over.”
Kaisal snorted. “How dare anyone talk to the Arxur? That attitude is exactly what needs to change with the Coalition, and why we don’t trust them to look out for us. Carnivores still can’t get a fair shake, even without a dark history. I’ll certainly be watching your experience with interest.”
“We’re going to make this work for us. I won’t give up on being part of the galactic community, and seeing Bissems welcomed as equals. Before you do anything rash, let’s see whether they can come around to us.”
“I can be a little patient. Just don’t take too long. Goodbye, Tassi and friends.”
Still huddled behind Naltor, I turned toward the vehicle we’d arrived in, eager to get away from the Arxur leader. I only breathed a sigh of relief once the car was speeding away from Onso’s home; the politician must believe the reptilians had changed, if he was letting one stay in his dwelling without any backup. I wasn’t sure what my companions made of Kaisal, but I was conflicted over every explanation he offered. Aligning ourselves with them didn’t seem like a prudent move; it’d validate prejudices about us accepting their crimes. Then again, the alternative was a fight that could pick up where the unthinkable, centuries-long war had left off. That would strengthen the grudges against carnivores that Bissems would have to face.
This dilemma certainly wasn’t what I had expected when I got the invite to Leirn, but what mattered was that the Yotul had a plan that he thought would get us a brief stint with the Sapient Coalition. That brought me a giddy rush, since I’d thought our chances might be dead in the waters with a war raging. Once I got myself into the forum, I was going to make every connection I could to ensure we stayed there for good.
A/N - Chapter 27! Tassi learns a few key details about the Arxur that she hadn’t known before, such as their salvation of Earth, the Federation’s initial anti-meat serum and later cooperation, and the rebel movement. Kaisal explains why he wants to be friends with Bissems, the new carnivores on the block, largely as a test for the Sapient Coalition: to see if they could ever accept a meat-eating species. He also explains the Collective isn’t willing to stay in isolation much longer, and says he’d rather they leave as friends to the galaxy; Naltor and Zalk’s interest is piqued when he offers tech and a military alliance, in exchange for trying to convince the SC.
What do you think of Kaisal’s explanation of the Arxur’s past, as well as the implications for the current state of the Arxur Collective…and its future interests? How will Bissems fare if Onso is able to follow through on the promise of getting them a temporary seat in the SC?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Maelstrom
It feels like it should have taken them more time.
Willy
The physical conflict has ceased, yet the battle of the mind persists. Sadly, the resurgence of physical hostilities seems inevitable, primarily due to the machinations of Yotul/Arxur. Humanity is striving to coax the galaxy towards acceptance of obligate carnivores through the introduction of the Bissems. However, echoes of past animosities linger, as some, fueled by spite, have taken to casting stones upon the tranquil waters, causing ripples that disturb the serenity, scattering the sticks that lay peacefully atop, and thus, unsettling the fragile calm.
Bunten44
Cool to know that the known universe is one scolar visari like away from war
Yannis Morris
I wanna pat myself on the back for predicting that the Arxur Collective were gonna break quarantine but it doesn’t feel like I should. It’s not like I would’ve been alone in that
