spacepaladin15
patreon
The Nature of Predators 69
🕑 Added 2022-11-28 12:00:08 +0000 UTCMemory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic
Date [standardized human time]: October 25, 2136
This wasn’t how I imagined my first visit to Earth; communicating with a disorganizing UN via hail that went unanswered for minutes. The humans on the line were terse at first, but there was a drastic shift in tone after they realized who I was. It made me feel guilty to be landing, while they were on edge and reeling from the attacks. The poor Terran governments were still trying to clean up the aftermath.
It was stunning to see the sprawling oceans from above. This was not the image of a predator hellscape the Federation depicted; pictures didn’t do Earth’s serenity justice. The humans were blessed with a gorgeous homeworld. Perhaps this is why they were obsessed with studying their environment and caring for animal life, despite their pre-ordained role as killers.
When I asked to be pointed to Chief Hunter Isif, we were referred to a base outside New York City. My heart ached, as I recalled that was once the UN’s headquarters. Our ship was granted immediate clearance by the regional powers, and the American tribe heaped on apologies that they couldn’t scramble a proper welcome. It did surprise me that the US radio operator politely said she ‘hoped I wasn’t here to stir up trouble.’ Our predator friends really didn’t want to piss off the Arxur.
A green-and-brown pelted human waited outside the ship, with a contingent behind them. “Governor Tarva, we’re honored by your visit. Please, let us know if there’s anything you need.”
The soldier snapped a hand to their forehead, and the others behind mirrored the cue. I didn’t understand what this gesture meant, but it seemed respectful. It was difficult to discern every human cue, since their body language varied so drastically from the rest of the galaxy. I wished once again that they had tails to make it easier.
Sara sensed my confusion, and leaned by my ear. “That’s a salute. It’s a military gesture of respect; they’re welcoming you as one of their own.”
“Uh, thanks? Do I do it back?” I asked.
The American soldier chuckled. “Sure, you can if you want.”
I raised my paw awkwardly, pressing the pad down against my ear. The humans had a good-natured laugh at my discomfort, and the leader extended a clawless hand in greeting. Recognizing that invitation as the primary human introductory gesture, a show of non-hostility, I placed my paw in their hand. Those fingers tightened in a vicelike grip for a moment, before breaking away.
“Chief Hunter Isif is in the mobile unit there with the excessive, um, decorative weapon displays. We’re surprised, and slightly concerned, by your request, Governor,” the spokesperson growled. “That said, we’re happy to acquiesce any ask by our oldest alien ally. Would you like an escort?”
I flicked my ears. “No, thank you. Though, perhaps you could wait outside, in case I need, er, help?”
The soldier nodded, and stepped out my way. Sara trailed behind me with delicate footsteps, taking awhile to survey the devastation. The horror was plain on her face, as she saw the razed skyline; this place had once been a teeming mass of Terran civilization. The grand architecture and the homes of millions were obliterated in the bombing, which left the population center in disarray.
I had no idea if Isif had been told to expect us, but he hadn’t left any grays waiting outside. The door wasn’t left ajar as an invitation either. That set me more on edge than I already was, escalating the knot of fear in my stomach. Perhaps the Chief Hunter wasn’t at all interested in talks with a lesser species, and was lying inside in ambush. What was I thinking?
My feet came to a halt by the door, standing stationary. “N-no, I d-don’t want to.”
Sara placed a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. We can turn back. I’m sure the American military would be happy to go through the dog-and-pony show, even in their current state.”
“T-the what? I…help me walk in.”
“You’re asking me to carry you? That’ll probably be a bad look.”
“Ugh, n-never mind. You’re r-right.”
Sucking in a gasping breath, I slammed my paw down on the door handle. The room was pitch-black, despite it being midday; the Arxur had placed blackout curtains over every window. A single lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating Isif’s silhouette.
The predator was massive, with a girth that put the weightiest humans to shame. That was due to his hardy skeleton and abdominal muscles. The rough scales were visible on his spine, since he had dropped to all fours. He…it was on the floor with a Gojid child in its mouth. The beast was snacking on the poor little thing, who was wailing her head off.
“WHOA! AAAHHH!” she shrieked.
My horror turned to confusion, as I realized Chief Hunter Isif was spinning around in circles. Upon closer inspection, the Arxur had its…his teeth gripping the child’s scruff. He hadn’t even drawn blood, despite being able to taste her flesh. There were no signs of drool around his lips, or dilation in his slit pupils either.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think the prey kid was enjoying this. She was moving her arms up and down, like a bird’s wings. The hunter stopped moving his paws, and set the child down on the floor. The Gojid giggled, bouncing on her haunches.
“Again, Siffy!! Faster this time!” she cheered.
The Arxur issued a bone-chilling growl that set my fur on end. “My name is not Siffy. Siffy is harder to say than Isif!”
“But Siffy is a better name. It’s super cute!”
“Cute? Why you leaf-licking demon…take it back.”
“No! I don’t listen to you!”
“You came into my cabin, so you will listen to me. Don’t make me roar at you, Nulia!”
“Yes, roar! Roar at that Venlil! It’ll be funny!”
The Arxur whipped around, lacking peripheral vision like the humans. Isif had been distracted with Nulia, likely from resisting his urges to wolf her down; he hadn’t noticed my entrance. I locked my limbs as his gaze landed on me. The last thing I wanted was to tremble and bray, but tears welled in my eyes nonetheless.
That thing looks so hungry, like he’s sizing me up. Those jerky pupil movements…how did I ever think Noah was scary? This was a mistake.
“Tarva? Venlil governor?” Isif growled, his voice laced with surprise. “Come in, please. I…need help with the brat.”
Nulia poked her claws against his fangs. “See, Siffy is nice, Tawva. He looks like the bad monsters, but he rescued us. He’s not gonna eat anyone.”
“Quit sticking your grubby claws in my mouth! How would you like someone doing that to you?”
“I don’t have the snarling teeth. You do. Mawsle doesn’t care at all.”
“If Marcel is happy to be poked and prodded, that’s his business. It’s obvious he doesn’t discipline you at all.”
My eyes widened, as I picked up on the word Marcel. Perhaps that was a common male name for humans, since the odds that the tortured predator was here were astronomical. The Arxur flared his nostrils, and picked Nulia up by the scruff. He stalked past me, returning to a bipedal stance.
A human male limped up the stairs, with only stubble on his scalp. There was panic in his hazel eyes, along with a nasty pair of scars on his cheek. That was, in fact, the same wounds I’d seen on the half-dead human. His jaw dropped as he saw the Arxur toting the Gojid. The Terran lunged forward, snatching Nulia away with shaking hands.
Marcel bared his teeth, eyebrows slanted down. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! What were you thinking, wandering into an Arxur’s lodgings?! You’re lucky that…ugh, I’ll tell you later.”
“Marcel!” I squeaked. “It’s good to see you up and about.”
A reddish eyebrow arched in confusion. “Governor Tarva? I don’t believe we’re acquainted, so I presume…well.”
Sara nodded her agreement. “We both were there when you were wheeled in. It’s wonderful to see you made a full recovery.”
“Haven’t got that far yet. Still working on getting my head right, and I’m not ashamed about it. Anyways, Nulia has been naughty and is going to be grounded. Take care, guys.”
“No! Why are you so mean? Stupid Mawsle!” the Gojid wailed. “I didn’t do anything! I hate you!”
The red-haired human snorted, pursing his lips with displeasure. It was nice to see him in good spirits, though I wondered how he wound up as the caretaker for a Gojid. Terran predators seemed more than willing to bond with anything cute or young. I was just relieved to see Marcel’s trauma hadn’t turned him against aliens. Slanek must’ve been helpful on that front.
“Bah, humans are soft, aren’t they? If I talked to my mother like that, she would’ve cracked my skull,” Isif rumbled.
“That’s sad.” I turned around to face him, using all of my strength to meet his gaze. “T-there’s nothing powerful about hurting someone…who can’t fight back.”
“I suppose, as we say, it’s the weakling who seeks the slow-running prey. Tarva, this war proves nothing. Where is the pride of the hunt? The entire Federation is slow-running prey, far as I’m concerned.”
“We’re not prey. W-we shouldn’t have to be running at all. We’re people…not your f-food.”
The Arxur closed his maw, studying me with interest. There was a hint of surprise in the pupils, perhaps even some grudging respect. I’d never looked at a gray’s visage as anything more than a mindless predator. A smidge of thought and emotion was in there, even if it all went toward cruel intelligence.
Whatever I expected from Isif, it wasn’t playing with a Gojid child. He has some self-control, even if it’s taxed now.
Sara clasped her fingers together. “Prey is demeaning. If the Governor doesn’t want to accept that label anymore, power to her. I know I’d like to have people stop calling me ‘predator.’”
I ducked my head. “I’m working on that, but it slips out when I’m s-scared.”
“Tarva, you don’t call me a ‘gray’, I’ll drop the word ‘prey.’ Such a stupid name,” Isif hissed. “Your fur is gray, and they don’t call you that. Fair, yes?”
I plopped myself on the couch. “Fair.”
“You are fascinating. I do see why the humans think you have potential. You reined in your fear faster than any pr…herbivore I’ve seen. You talk to me.”
“B-because I want to understand. I understand what an obligate carnivore is now. I know that you can eat fruit feasts and starve. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t try to stop this…or make it quick.”
The Arxur walked slowly, his form lumbering through the shadows. I could imagine the Federation never looked at such monstrosities as truly sapient. These weren’t the social humans, whose common ancestors included tree-dwelling frugivores. Isif had bony claws that could tear through skeletal muscle, and yellow teeth that curved out of his jaw. He was the perfect killing machine.
Sara was uninterested in sitting; she preferred to stay on her feet. The gray paused by the couch, eyeing the open spot next to me. His tail lashed the cushion, and waited for a reaction. A predator I had screaming nightmares about was so close, staring me down. I could feel his rank breath on my neck.
My heart pushed against my rib cage, leaving me with the urge to clutch my chest. Those flaring nostrils must be picking up my nutritious blood. If I understood how scent worked, he could taste me on the breeze. I was certain he could smell the fear chemicals, coursing through my scrawny frame. My breathing was becoming erratic, despite my efforts to measure it.
Isif leaned back. “I am trying to make this war stop. Some idiots from your side started this all. It doesn’t matter much now; they’re dead. Neither of us are responsible for what our species did.”
“You’re a Chief Hunter. That’s not a powerless grunt,” Sara interjected.
“I’m one person. The fighting was necessary. The cost of the Federation winning the war was higher than us winning, until now. Venlil are curious…accepting predators. An anomaly.”
I hugged my knees to my chest. “D-do the Arxur even h-have a society…to lose? What are you?”
The Chief Hunter retrieved a holopad from an armrest. The device had grips carved into the back, which were clearly meant to suit an Arxur’s claws. He pounded at a keyboard that seemed to have an alphabet of random slashes, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. The predator picked out a single image, turning it to me.
The picture looked like a village of modest huts, separated from each other by sizable distances. The Arxur might as well have installed chasms between themselves and their neighbors. There was no electricity visible inside the dwellings, since the nocturnal grays preferred darkness. I guessed they’d only use power for appliances.
Surprisingly, there were no carcasses hanging outside, and no blood on the overgrown grass. All roads seemed to converge on the woods, where the activity ticked up. Bulky grays were fighting in pavilions, while younger ones practiced stalking alone on wobbly pedestals. It figured that their playing was all hunting and violence.
The humans at least have the decency to mask their predation. They would never think about hunting for fun.
Isif bared his teeth. “That’s our homeworld, the warm spheroid we call Wriss. That means Rock, loosely. Most people work on the farms, in Betterment, in shipping and manufacturing, or in the military. The government assigns rations based on merit.”
“Sapient rations. All you ever ate.”
“The alternative is to starve. I do not wish to die that way. You do not know what it is to be hungry, to live with pains and cravings.”
“I would rather starve than eat people.”
“That’s easy to say when you’re content and sated, is it not? Ask your human friends what they are like when deprived of food. They eat each other, in extreme cases!”
My eyes shifted to Sara, who flinched. The human scientist brought a fist to her lips, coughing awkwardly. The thought of my predator friends eating their own kind made my stomach flip. I hadn’t thought they’d munch on Venlil, let alone other Terrans. Was the Arxur mistaken?
“Cannibalism is taboo, and very rare,” she managed. “People…many humans will do anything to survive. As Isif said, it’s usually in extreme cases, with no other food for an extended time.”
“T-that’s appalling! That’s worse than predatory.”
“Of course it is. But Venlil steal food from each other during your famines. Eating human flesh sickens us, and that is an awful decision to make. Your body can’t function without food and water. It’s a biological requirement.”
It was still fresh in my memory, how outraged Sara was when she learned of the Venlil cattle. I recalled how widespread fury and disgust took root across Earth, when they discovered our plight. Yet now, the scientist was downplaying the consumption of sapients; her own race. Was starvation the only excuse predator races needed to cast aside their morals?
Isif curled his lip. “Arxur have such cases too. Also rare for us. Many people are desperate now, but it’s punishable by execution. The diseases are too dangerous, so the Dominion, well, made examples.”
“What? Diseases?” I squeaked.
Sara buried her face in her hands. “Prion diseases…transmitted through faulty proteins. Always lethal. Beyond the moral issues, that’s a good incentive for us not to, um, eat human flesh.”
There’s communicable diseases that can only spread through predation?! It’s a wonder the omnivore humans haven’t all gone vegetarian.
It was tough to reconcile the disconnect between the civilized humans I knew, and the worrisome practices I continued to uncover from any that were “desperate.” This exchange made me feel a lot less certain on Terrans never eating Venlil, a qualifier I had believed with all my heart. These two alien predators who had more in common than I’d like to admit. I knew Elias Meier hid a lot from us under his regime, but the extent of the omissions was startling.
Isif tilted his head. “You could help humanity now, Tarva. Unless you think they deserve to choose between eating their dead, or starving to death alongside their kin.”
“I am helping. I love them still,” I said, wiping a frightful tear away. “But I’ve given them everything I can spare, and then some.”
“No, you have not. You know of their lab-grown meat, which the humans conveniently avoided divulging to me. That is the prize catch, don’t you see? Grow enough to satisfy our cattle deal, because your friends can’t afford to give their scraps away. Then, you can send surplus food to Earth; fill some empty bellies.”
“You’re insane. You think Venlil would ever grow flesh as predator food? The backlash I would get…”
“It’s a small price to free millions of Venlil, without the animal killing you pretend your paws are clean of. You’re a hunting-challenged species, but it’s truly no different than cell cultures.”
“Hunting-challenged species” was a roundabout way of calling Venlil prey. I tried to swish my tail in irritation, but the missing appendage was unresponsive. It was surprising the Arxur hadn’t commented on the amputated stump. He didn’t question why Elias Meier wasn’t present either, so I suppose he’d learned of the bombing.
Isif was correct that it was only cell cultures and lab work, but growing carcasses was a tough pill to swallow. It felt like a betrayal of everything the Federation believed in…like we were selling ourselves out. Mixed emotions played at my human companion’s face, as though she was debating whether to agree with him.
Putting our industrial capacity to manufacturing dead bodies…yikes, I thought to myself. The Venlil extermination officers will say it’s a slippery-slope to enabling wildlife murder. They might be right.
Sara bit her lip. “While that would be helpful, I don’t want to pressure the Governor. Growing predator food for you, and even for us, would sicken her.”
“I’m sure it is not a savory thought, when she finds everything about Arxur abhorrent. But it is never wrong to do what you must to survive, and for the greater good,” Isif growled.
I blinked. “I don’t know if we can get past the stigma.”
“Think of it this way. If you had grown meat for us from the start, how many Federation lives would not have been lost? How many years of pain would’ve been avoided? I ask myself those questions about the Arxur, and it helps me speak to you. My pride and my culture say I do not need your kind, but the stigma is inconsequential. It is illogical.”
“I know it’s illogical.” I thought about the feral predator’s words, and how my daughter could still be alive. Would I not grow flesh in a heartbeat, if it stopped the Arxur from bombing Venlil schools? “I’ll…try to get it through. Rush it, even. I won’t make any promises, but let’s plan for the exchange five weeks from today.”
The Chief Hunter rose from the couch, attempting to give a polite tail swish. It came across as a rapid lash, but I recognized it as an effort to communicate in our terms. I couldn’t believe how insightful that dialogue was, and how polished the gray was. Because of the humans, the Venlil took the first step to repairing the rift between predator and prey.
It remained to be seen if this cattle plot the United Nations dreamt up ended in disaster.
A/N - Part funny number is here a day early! Hope you enjoy seeing Tarva and Isif interact, with some new Arxur lore, before we return to the aftermath of Sovlin's arc next chapter. Do you think Isif was fair and polite to Tarva (and vice versa)?
Part 1 of an Arxur POV mini-series is releasing Thursday, exclusive to you guys. It'll revisit the fan-favorite cradle arc, from their perspective; action and shenanigans to look forward to!
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Space Paladin
Aw, thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying the content; hope I can continue to deliver fun new tales and adventures!
Javier Solis
my god im really happy i paid for your patreon! I really love your stories!
Kit
Please if at all possible, let no "sudden major twists" derail the entirety of the current progress in the story. It's nice to hear of things going semi-okay even with some setbacks compared to current reality. Of course you aren't obligated to oblige this request, but much of this hopeful scenery is very nice when contrasted with some of the media depiction of the current world. Not reading another moslty tragedy is nice when it is so common amongst sci-fi novels that aren't pure satire themselves.
