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The Nature of Predators 139
🕑 Added 2023-07-31 11:00:06 +0000 UTCMemory transcription subject: Slanek, Venlil Civilian
Date [standardized human time]: February 13, 2137
The Duerten homeworld was a stormy place during monsoon season; its name was Kalqua, but I didn’t care much for dissecting the linguistic intricacies of any titles. Skalga, world of death—that was a name from a species of warriors. Even that nomenclature meant little compared to the sole place that mattered, the one that I razed in my dreams: Aafa. So despite the rift between the Duerten Homogeneity and the United Nations, my concern was using the gray avians to complete my mission. That was why I decided to come here; I had plenty of time to concoct a plan, as I drifted from stop-to-stop on the train back on Skalga.
The pittance I’d received from the Venlil-Human exchange program gave me the money I needed to reach out to unscrupulous parties. That entailed looking no further than the Nevok industry; as the losing parties of a trade war with the Fissans, they would do anything to make a quick buck. I forked over half the fee up-front in exchange for travel to Kalqua. The Nevoks weren’t suicidal, so their “unofficial” smuggling enterprise wouldn’t take me to Aafa, but they still had open trade with the Duerten. It was up to me to negotiate a deal to make the trek to the Federation’s home.
I opened my knapsack, spotting the gun tucked next to the book. The rural exterminators office in Celgel Falls didn’t seem to recognize me, and was delighted when I’d floated the idea of taking out dogs. Those Venlil made it clear they wouldn’t mind if a human “predator” got on the wrong end of a bullet. It was all I could do not to mow each of them down then and there. My impatience to get to business was growing now too, with the itch in my claws craving the pull of the trigger.
The damn Nevok has been in a holding pattern aboveworld for hours. Something about it being too stormy to land safely in the Duerten capital, Liluat.
“Why can’t we descend now?” I barked. “I was also a pilot. I know we can fly through choppy conditions.”
The Nevok flicked his ears. “It’s against local regulations. Too many crashes on Duerten soil, especially with smaller spacecraft. They’ll fine me at the docking bay if I go now, so no can do.”
“I’ll cover the fine, with a little extra for you. How much to go right now?”
“A thousand credits.”
I gagged at the figure, but fished out my holopad regardless. Missed messages showed on the old chat app I’d used during the exchange program, but I navigated to my bank account instead. I had wanted to leave something to Jensi and Marcel to improve their welfare, but what was important was terminating Nikonus’s life as soon as possible. The Nevok looked satisfied when I transferred the requested amount, and punched in the commands on the piloting interface. My ears pinned back against my head, with the actualization of my plans unfolding.
As a recognizable figure across the galaxy, I wasn’t expecting the Duerten to give a human-friendly Venlil a hero’s welcome. They thought our sweet predators were as good as dirt, but at least they weren’t actively engaged in war with them. Anyone who threatened Earth’s safety or the average Terran’s welfare needed to be put down. In the past, people like me would’ve never allowed someone to terrorize our herd. To think what they’d done to Skalga was worse than the bioweapon the Kolshians gassed Marcel with…I wonder what their species would look like with specially-crafted afflictions.
“Hey, what is wrong with you, Slanek? We’re here, and they’ve locked the docking clamps until I pay the fines. You were in such a hurry, and now you’ve got a thousand-parsec-stare at the runway. Go! Get off of my ship!” the Nevok barked.
I jolted back to alertness, slinging my knapsack over my shoulders. “Thanks for the ride.”
Hustling out onto the runway, rain assaulted me from above and trickled into my ears. I spotted Duerten soldiers marching toward the shuttle with irate wing flaps. I raised my paws to show my intent to surrender to the security, and halted my forward momentum to ensure I wasn’t perceived as a threat to the herd’s safety. The avians looked alarmed to discern that a Venlil had slipped through their borders via a Nevok charter; several guards immediately drew their weapons. Forcing myself to remain calm, I knelt onto the pavement without waiting for instruction.
Two guards pushed me onto my stomach, planting their webbed feet against my neck. The Duerten chained my arms behind my back, and hauled me to my paws. They called in my arrest, naming me as “the famous human pet, Slanek”; I gritted my teeth at that moniker. Smoothing out my fur through a concerted effort, I issued a request to speak with someone high-ranking in the government. The avians’ suspicion intensified after I verbalized that desire, though they passed it along the correct channels.
You’re completely at their mercy, so might as well play nice. They have no requisite not to hear your plea…though I don’t know what happens if they say “no.”
It took several minutes sitting in the back of a stationary police car, but clearance came through for me to be taken to Ambassador Coji’s office. The Duerten representative to Earth was fresh back from the Summit, having slammed the door on humanity’s diplomatic offers once and for all. I released a sigh of relief, as the car began moving, and I offered as little as possible to guards prompting me for my reasons. What I had to say was for official ears only. Nobody could know my plans to annihilate Nikonus. Impatience caused me to fidget, and the bland colors of the structures didn’t give me much to look at.
It felt like hours later when we finally arrived, passing under a billboard that said, Sapient predator? An oxymoron. I wished they hadn’t put the window’s visual translator on to convert text to Venlil tongue. A Duerten guard hauled me out of the car, granting me an unhindered look at the embassy. The construction was built to withstand strong winds, with metal plates over the windows, and entrance hatches on each floor for any natives that chose to fly inside. I was forced to take the long way around, trundling through the lobby to a rusted elevator that clearly hadn’t seen much use.
“Is this even safe to ride in? It doesn’t look like it’s been well-kept,” I grumbled.
The security officer huffed, smashing the third button with his wing. “Oh, so you talk now, just to question us? You are an intruder here, and you will do what we say. I doubt it will be worth our time to hear you out at all; I can’t fathom why you came to Kalqua, with…who you are.”
I swished my tail with annoyance, but said nothing as the elevator ratcheted up to the third floor. There were periodic creaks and scraping noises as it ascended, along with a painfully slow pause that made me think we were stuck for a second. The door slid open, revealing an array of private offices; most were shut, though I could see lights on under the frames. I was brought to the far end of the hall, and deposited into Coji’s sprawling office, still chained. The Duerten ambassador had pictures of Noah’s face on the wall with his binocular eyes carved out. If I wasn’t desperate to get to Aafa, I would’ve never beseeched her aid.
“I thought my guard had misidentified you, but no, it’s really Slanek…friend of that captured human. Is this some deranged plea by Tarva to get me to return, and apologize for her audacious stunt at the Summit? If I didn’t know better, I’d think that predator Noah was her lover,” Coji sneered.
I issued a nervous laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Ambassador Noah just interacts with her a lot, and he’s the one who convinced her to trust humans. I know people say Tarva is too attached to humans, but don’t be offensive.”
“I’ll be whatever I want. You’re in my office, on Kalqua, and we don’t worry about hurting predators’ feelings here.”
“Well, I’m not here on behalf of my government or humanity. I’m here because of what the Kolshians did to Skalga; it’s personal. They ruined my life, they turned me into this! I know you’re angry about what they did to you, so we can help each other. I’m gonna kill Nikonus if it’s the last thing I do.”
The Duerten stared at me in disbelief, before she burst out laughing. “I know the ‘weakest species in the galaxy’ is made up, but you must be out of your mind! You’re still crippled and…I can’t imagine how that would ever work! Besides, it’s something a predator disease patient would say. Again, I reiterate, the fact that you came here is beyond deranged. Why us?”
“Because you’re the only one with motives to make them pay who could actually get to Aafa. I thought about every detail, I need this to work, so just trust me. You could schedule a meeting under the ruse of the Kolshians knowing the Duerten walked out of humanity’s summit. Tell them you want to meet for reconciliation. Nikonus would love to weaken Earth and siphon off their allies, so he’ll bite.”
“That’s…actually halfway decent, Slanek. I don’t see why we need you.”
I perked my ears up. “You’ll never get inside the hall with a weapon; security will catch you and you’ll be blown. If you think you can attack Nikonus unarmed, you’ll just get gunned down by his guards who follow him everywhere, and are armed. It keeps you from making yourself a target. Better yet, even if I fail, you have the cover of me being a stowaway from the Summit or something. Some predatorshit.”
Coji craned her neck in thought, and her eyes lit up with something resembling schadenfreude. I knew that I had the Duerten then and there; I’d read them right, gauging that they wanted to obliterate the Kolshians after the Archives’ info. My guess was based on the fact that they were willing to communicate with humanity, who it was no secret they hated, after the Homogeneity learned about being turned into mindless drones.
The ambassador tossed her beak. “How do you think you can get to Aafa, let alone with a weapon?”
“I read a human myth about a so-called Trojan Horse,” I replied.
“Was this plot a human idea?!”
“No! They stripped me off my military rank because of what I did at Mileau. I just drew inspiration from the…predator trickery. They’re best at it, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I’m not surprised a Venlil saw that truth eventually. What is this Trojan Horse?”
“My version of it? Make a gift statue for the Kolshians, line it with materials that will disrupt sensor readings, and stick me in the base. My guess is that they’ll put it in the garden outside; you bring Nikonus to see it, wherever it is, and I’ll pop out. We can’t put a slit for me to shoot from the inside without risking me being sighted. I just need an escape lever, and a motion sensor for when you direct him in front of my exit.”
“I see. You want a weapon from us, I imagine?”
“I already had a gun in my bag, which I’m sure your guards found, so it can be stashed in the statue with me. Don’t worry, I’ve gunned down Kolshians before—you don’t want to know—so you don’t need to worry about me getting cold feet. I can handle myself.”
“What’s your escape plan?”
I don’t have one.
I tugged at the chains around my paws with discomfort. “My plan is to run off, and meet you back at the ship. You can make a lot of noise and cause a distraction, if you want to help. The less details you know about that specific part, the better; I don’t want to tip off the Kolshians chasing me.”
“That makes sense.” Coji seemed to buy my lie, and she shuffled the papers on her desk. “I’ll bring it up to the people who can actually make this decision. If they say yes, which I suspect they will, we’ll start work on this statue. What should the likeness be?”
“Playing to narcissism always works. Nikonus boasts about all the things he did to other prey species, so it’s clear his ego wants people to know. It could be a statue of him.”
“Killed by an idol to himself…it’s poetic. They hated Duerten for having opinions, and speaking our minds. They don’t want us to speak—fine, we’ll do things the other way. For what it’s worth, I appreciate you bringing us this…opportunity, and I hope you succeed. I imagine the collective feels the same.”
Coji summoned the guard that had brought me in, and ordered him to bring me to a visitors room on the first floor. As I looked over my shoulder, her gray silhouette swooped out of the hatch in her office, and the bird took flight. My mind harkened back to when the wingless humans had jumped out of a spacecraft, with me sedated in tow, and dropped to the cradle’s surface. Loss clawed at my heart, as I pictured Marcel giving Nulia pain meds for her shattered leg. The Gojid child he wound up considering his own, who played with “Uncle Slanek” and “Mawsle” often.
What I wouldn’t give to be innocent like that again. Before Earth was hit, we were so happy, and unaware of the Federation’s unholy meddling. I had no clue what I really was.
Tears welled in my eyes; the finality of this assassination attempt was certain. When Coji fulfilled my request to travel to Aafa (and after observing her reaction, I was certain her people would heed the call), there was no turning back from deep within the Federation’s heart. It was too late to select any route other than vengeance for me, and I struggled with what I knew came next. After deposing my creator, this was part of the tale where my own life of misery should come to a close. With how I’d changed, that might be for the greater good, but I was chilled by the prospect of non-existence.
My tale didn’t have to be an exact replica of ancient Earth literature…it wouldn’t be. However, my non-existent escape plan meant the end was near for me. I wished I’d said a proper goodbye to Marcel; the red-haired human would be upset by what I was about to do. He was under the impression that I was getting help, and we’d never had the opportunity to patch up our friendship—though that hadn’t seemed possible, ever. The Venlil he’d befriended was already dead.
Whether predator disease was a lie or not, I felt like it was a fair diagnosis for me now. Any explanation I could’ve afforded Marcel would’ve only made him more disappointed in my warped mind. This would be the last time I disappointed my human. However, given my odd unwillingness to die, I would hope to find another way to disappear than expiry. My schemes had been crafty enough up to this point, so perhaps I could think on my feet in the moment.
One thing was for sure: I was no longer going to freeze or let fear triumph during calamity. If this was my last adventure, I planned to go out in what humans called a blaze of glory.
A/N - Chapter 139! Slanek has come up with a more complex plot than many would've expected from him, turning to an unexpected ally: the Duerten. We get a look at the Duerten's homeworld, quirks, culture, and leadership, while seeing exactly how much loathing they have for the Kolshians in their willingness to consider Slanek's plot. Do you think our Venlil narrator's plan to hide within a statue will work? Is it too late to turn back, with Marcel's flurry of messages over the exchange app going ignored?
Furthermore, we'd have to see if killing Nikonus would even have any serious benefit to the galaxy, or whether he'd just be replaced by another oppressive tyrant...
As always, thank you for reading and supporting! NOP Jeopardy signups open on Discord for a few days, ask in the patron lounge if you’re interested!
Comments
Doodoomaan
A Trojen horse. A Trojan horse. A. TROJAN. HORSE-
jackhelios
damn all slanek needs now is a manifesto
