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The Nature of Predators 65
🕑 Added 2022-11-15 12:01:01 +0000 UTCMemory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command
Date [standardized human time]: October 23, 2136
By my assessment, the humans’ shuttle was barely FTL-worthy; it would be lucky to defeat a solar sail in combat. I was certain their craft choice was designed to tail me with minimal risk of detection. Now, it wasn’t like I was going to forget they were on my tail, so I didn’t see the point of stealthy monitorization. With Carlos requiring medical oversight, we persuaded the predators to dock with us.
The Terran shuttle squeezed into the escape pod bay, with little room to spare. The Harchen journalists were floored to see the accommodations the Terrans had whipped up for the deaf Talpin. I imagined the Federation would be shocked as well; there was a reason the humans chose these Gojids to represent our refugees. That painted a different picture of the cradle invasion, apart from the story of vicious annihilation circulating now.
Samantha and Carlos were still unwilling to land on Aafa in person, after their ambassador was ‘held hostage’ for weeks. I’m sure the attempted murder wasn’t an enticement either; my guards valued staying in one piece. My expectation was that the humans would detach in their shuttle, once we got close enough. Their little clunker would either hide out until our hopeful return, or they would find their own way back. My read was that they weren’t eager to stay around the Federation hub.
I know what I’m going to tell the representatives about the humans. But I don’t know how to justify my own actions, with Marcel.
The low hum of the ship’s engines pulsed into my paws, as I slunk around the humans’ personal effects. Samantha had left an unlocked holopad unattended, and I was gripped by the compulsion to scour their internet. We wouldn’t have access to the live network, hundreds of star systems away from Sol, but there was an archive of what existed before our departure. The guilt drumming away in my skull wondered what the Federation was told about Marcel.
I breathed the words aloud, as I typed in a search bar. “Marcel, human tortured by Gojid.”
My heart seized, scrolling through the results that turned up. After everything I had learned about the Terrans, it made my sins even more terrible. The thought that a predator could share such similarities with us, and that they could truly be our friends, had been fantastical at the time. Why had I not even considered, for a second, that the human captive was innocent?
I tapped a video result that claimed to have been shown to the Federation. My claws landed themselves in my mouth, and I chewed with more intensity than ever. Marcel was feeding a prey animal, while a speaker called “Noah” elaborated on his veterinary aspirations. It was tough to see the life in his hazel irises, the same ones I had seen pleading with me in agony. How could I ever come to terms with the fact that I tormented an herbivore human, who found his joy through saving animals?
The images switched to close-up images of Marcel’s wounds. It broke my heart to see how famished the human looked, and to think about his misery. Tears swelled in my eyes, and mucus oozed from my nose. A few choking sobs came out, as the full weight of self-hatred slammed down on me again. Samantha had been right, when she told Carlos I didn’t deserve cordiality.
A clawless hand swiped the holopad away from me. “Dear God, Sovlin. Why would you do that to yourself?”
“Sam, that’s not the worst thing he could’ve sought out on the internet. Perhaps we should be happy,” Carlos chimed in.
I jumped out of the chair, wiping my eyes on the back of my paw. Samantha’s auburn hair looked disheveled, and my woefulness transitioned to concern. I hadn’t seen the female eat anything, which was compounding a lack of self-care and sleep. The reason why she was grief-stricken was obvious now. We had to be certain she wouldn’t make any hasty decisions, with such a tenuous mental state.
“W-what…is the worst thing, Carlos? Predation? Xenophobia?” I asked.
The male guard snorted. “No. Forget about it. You’re going to give the holopad back to Sam, and promise never to tinker with our things again.”
“Sorry, I needed to remember what I’ve done. I was starting to feel…almost normal, with you and the Harchen. It felt like I was with my old crew, but that life is gone. I don’t deserve happiness.”
“It’s time to move on, Sovlin.” Samantha showed a rare hint of sympathy, curling her lips in a way that didn’t seem hostile. The female predator looked lethargic and downcast. “You can honor Marcel by doing something good when you land on Aafa today.”
“But I—”
“You fucked up, bad. That was then, and this is now. I’ve decided that there’s something worthwhile in you, and so has the UN. You have no right to let us down.”
My paws relinquished my grip on the holopad, and I allowed the alien hunters to steer me out to the common area. Somehow, Samantha’s rough words were comforting. She reminded me I had a purpose here far beyond myself. Every living creature on this side of the galaxy, Slanek, Marcel, my guards, the Gojid refugees, was depending on me.
The entire Federation would be disbanded and slaughtered, if I didn’t disprove the Arxurs’ deceit with conclusive evidence. It would be a travesty for them to flip the script, and masquerade as the original ‘victims’ in this mess. Whatever my past failings were, penance wasn’t as important as stopping the humans from forging this unholy alliance.
I need to save the Terrans from vengeful temptation. The species who liberated a cattle ship, and bashed Arxur prisoners over the head, is still in there.
Finding justice for my first officer’s death was an urgent consideration too. Recel lost his life, per the humans’ dossier, after helping Marcel escape my clutches. The Kolshian Commonwealth had proved themselves a menace to the Federation, and our forums of diplomacy. Someone needed to put an end to their treachery, before more innocents turned up dead. This was personal to me now, and I wanted to see the masterminds hang.
The Harchen journalists were dotted across the common area, with scribbles and notes strewn everywhere. Cilany looked concerned, as she noticed my sniffling and bleary eyes. I knew the journalists were worried the predators were intimidating me, or throwing their weight around. It was all I could do delay any interrogation of Samantha, with her fragile state. The humans needed to talk over their history soon, unless they wanted it covered in an unfavorable light.
“Cilany, has your team located any pertinent information?” I asked.
The short reptile drummed her toes on a table. “If I give you the rundown, are the predators finally going to answer my questions?”
Samantha bared her teeth. “You’re not in any position of power here. This is our mission, and I’m not your lab rat.”
“Your…what? The translator mangled that idiom. A rodent in a lab?” I repeated.
“For animal testing. To develop drugs, or research behaviors.”
Every prey sapient in the room gaped at the primate, and even I failed to mask my horror. Humans ran unethical experimentation on captured animals, treating them like expendable subjects? That was not an empathetic practice; there was no defense for wide-scale cruelty. It was implied that there were no safeguards to mitigate the suffering, either.
“Okay, all of you, quit it with that look!” Carlos leapt to Samantha’s rescue, rounding on me with a glare. “How else do you develop medicines to cure diseases, and uncover the side effects before giving it to your own people?”
“Cell cultures, Harchen tissue samples, microdosing, and computer models. Murder-free,” Cilany said.
My spines bristled from the predators’ anger. “L-like any civilized culture. We don’t treat animals as our toys.”
The female guard bit her lip. “Human…no, sapient lives take precedence over everything else. I’d sacrifice a million animals to save one person…person I…”
As much as I wanted to push back against Sam’s statement, it was tough to argue with someone who looked so broken. If I believed it was my only option, there were no sacrifices I wouldn’t make to bring back my family. Humans rushing disease cures might have come to the same conclusions. I tucked away a mental note to give the predators some simulations that could put an end to that barbarism.
The Harchen reporter blinked in disgust. “There are better ways! That’s not science.”
“On the plus side, at least the humans do try to heal their people,” I told Cilany. “When I first captured Marcel, I didn’t even think they had medicine. He moved away from my sedative needle, like he was scared of doctors.”
Carlos slapped his forehead. “Sovlin, maybe we just don’t like needles? Between the sight of blood and the pain, it’s not a carnival ride.”
“Sorry…we’re off to a terrible start. I don’t see why these reporters can’t get along with you. Work this out, for your sake. This is your chance to justify yourselves to the galaxy, humans.”
“We’ve done nothing to you! Why do we need to justify anything?” Samantha spat.
“I know you don’t want to, but it’s about time someone listened to your side of the story. Don’t you think? There’s a lot at stake here, especially if more races decide to come after you.”
The two predators shared a glance, as the Harchen scrutinized their mannerisms. They both gave a grudging nod, and settled down into their seats. I offered a silent prayer that Cilany would go gentle on Samantha. If I saw that human showing signs of distress or a breakdown, I was going to intervene. Her welfare was more important than any media coverage.
“You first, Cilany,” Carlos growled.
“The Federation d-dumped a lot of footage from their initial discovery of humanity, to undermine Noah’s message.” The reptile’s skin camouflaged with the blue ship walls, as the predators leaned toward her. She was brave, to face them so early on. “I found a clip from their discussion…that unanimous vote to destroy your species, almost two centuries ago. Look.”
The male guard knitted his brow in confusion. I could sense him biting back a retort, since that wasn’t the information the UN was looking for. Part of him must be curious to observe how humanity had been discussed as heartless monsters. If the Gojids had been sentenced to death before escaping our world, I’d want to hear those proceedings.
The Harchen reporter tossed a video onto a projector, and my own eyes turned to the screen. I’d never seen this footage. Humanity had been little more than a historical footnote, with a few graduates like Zarn diving into the Federation’s observations. Why had the vote passed without a single objection? What could be that terrible?
A Venlil male spoke at his station. “T-those monsters are our neighbors. If FTL ever f-falls into their lap, we’ll be the first ones dead! It won’t be your species turned to carrion! Hurry up and k-kill them all!”
“Governor Mulnek is correct. From what we’ve seen, humans are barely sapient. True sapients don’t develop the weapons they have; chemicals, diseases, bombs, even early satellites,” the Farsul representative added.
“Thank you, Ambassador Royon. Can you picture those savage apes making it a day in the Federation? They’d eat us, the first chance they get. I shudder to think of Venlil coming across those…things.”
Anger returned to Samantha’s gaze, and her hands curled up into a fist. Knowing how close human-Venlil relations had become, I could imagine the damage this footage would do. At least, to my knowledge, Governor Tarva had been forthcoming with the United Nations on her species’ role in that era. It wasn’t her doing, so the Terrans shouldn’t have a gripe with her.
The Venlil pushed everyone away to save the predator scientists. It makes me wonder what that first contact team said, to make Tarva walk back her distress signal. To renounce her species’ stance.
Carlos threw his hands in the air. “Even the Venlil spewed that vitriol?”
“Hurry up and kill them all? Savage apes?” Samantha echoed.
“Quit pouting, and listen. This is the important part,” the Harchen reporter hissed.
Royon tossed her head, on screen. “The humans have a lot in common with you-know-who. We once believed that predators can have feelings, but we learned that lesson the hard way. The Arxur faked plenty of things, from artistry to passivity. We saw how trying to make them one of us turned out.”
Cilany paused the feed. “Did you catch that? The historian species of the Federation, claims the Arxur faked feelings. Given the context, that implies they showed signs of emotional intelligence, before first contact. I mean, the Arxur had artwork?!”
“The last part was what caught my attention. I don’t like the way they said ‘make them one of us,’” Samantha growled.
The humans were much too eager to spin everything into evidence for the Arxur’s tale. I understood why they resented the Federation, as Carlos put in perspective long ago. The way those ancient leaders spoke about the predators made my skin crawl. I hoped it hadn’t been so flagrant, when this Noah figure came to them. All the same, the Terran guards were reading too much into one sentence from a stressed diplomat.
“It’s referencing the Federation’s uplift of the Arxur. We tried to welcome them into the galaxy, and that started this mess!” I spat.
Samantha glared at me. “Then why did they say ‘one of us’? That meant turning them into prey!”
“I don’t have enough evidence to reach a determination,” Cilany sighed. “It is difficult to unearth much footage from the Arxur era. I really don’t understand how records can be lost, in the digital age.”
“Someone has something to hide. Judging by this dialogue, it’s become more and more distorted over the years.”
Carlos bobbed his head. “The people who voted to kill us were much more informed about the war’s origins. That’s useful to know. Good work, Cilany.”
My spines bristled with irritation, as I realized the Harchen reporter wasn’t challenging the premise at all. This must be some misguided efforts at appeasement; she didn’t understand that the Terrans weren’t looking for a lackey. This endeavor was too important to insinuate that the Arxur were angelic victims. Creative ability surprised me, but I was certain what passed for ‘art’ in their culture were war photos and hunting manuals. They were a sociopathic species to the core, and that was a well-documented fact.
“We uphold our bargains, Harchen,” Samantha offered. “To be honest, I’m surprised that you’re taking this seriously. I’ll let you ask us one thing about humanity, but tone down the racism?”
The reporter flicked her tongue. “I want to know about your species’ heroes…your collective dreams…your moral codes. How did they start, and are they universal? Do humans disagree on ethical issues? Uh…that’s not one question, sorry.”
Surprise flashed in both of the predators’ eyes, and I noticed their postures relax. Carlos studied Cilany with newfound interest, perhaps reassessing her journalistic acumen. Her query was a question I was interested in myself. If I read the cues right, Terrans possessed an internal conscience, and could use it to steer their worst instincts.
Samantha leaned back, crossing her legs. “I’ll answer as much about that subject as you want. Thank you, for taking an interest in the real humanity.”
“Tell her about your international laws,” I interjected. “Humans have codified rights, even for criminals like me. They let a hospital ship pass to save active enemies, when I fought them at our border outposts.”
Carlos bared his teeth. “That’s not an awful idea, for once, Sovlin. For all that talk about warfare, we’ve built rules signed by every modern nation, to prohibit attacks on civilian populations. To ensure that combatants receive humane treatment.”
“Rights the Federation denied us,” Samantha noted.
“You could sum up human morality in one statement; we call it the Golden Rule. Do unto others as you wish to be done unto you.”
The Harchen reporter palmed her chin in thought. Traces of fear lingered in her gaze, but I could tell she was listening to their words. That was a lot more than most people would attempt. I’m glad that I was right about her giving them an honest shot.
Cilany squinted at the duo. “Does that still apply?”
“To anyone willing to return the courtesy, sure. But humanity isn’t itching to be the galaxy’s punching bag,” Samantha replied. “The Federation broke that rule first.”
“Sam, if I can call you that, the way we all have talked about you is terrible. The public discourse is hateful, and your personal losses resonate with me. I can’t imagine what I’d do in your paws. My species was a part of that.”
The female predator sniffled. “There’s nothing any of us can do about that now. Let’s talk about heroes, shall we? You might be interested in some ancient mythology…how early and modern humans made sense of the world.”
Cilany hesitantly rose to her feet, and dragged her chair alongside the humans. I could see the tears swelling her eyes, alongside the acceleration of her breathing. Her slender arms were shaking, but she situated herself by the humans. She reached out with a trembling appendage, offering Samantha a tissue. The UN guard took it deftly, and dabbed at her eyes.
“I…I’d like that. Let me tell your stories,” the Harchen replied.
A glimmer of hope crept into those green eyes, reminding me of the humanity that came to the galaxy with righteous zeal. Those people were still in there, despite their heartache. I had to believe it was possible to mend our rifts, and to steer them from the path of destruction. Those lost on Earth couldn’t be brought back, but my predator friends didn’t have to die with them.
Samantha wove a yarn of supernatural fantasies, early scientists, and ambitious explorers seeking trade routes. Carlos added his own tales of monster slayers and fictional kings, with their own honor code. Terran legends sounded grandiose and heroic, from their lips. They elevated their greatest champions as guardians and pioneers, who advanced civilization at personal risk.
The contrast with the legacy of conquest and subjugation Zarn put forward was striking. The prey reptile shivered from prolonged exposure to humans, absorbing the descriptions of their early history. All it took was active listening, to keep the predators talking. I mused to myself that this was how it should have been; this was the peace that could have been reality.
A/N - Part 65 in the books! Sovlin's reporter friend has started researching the Arxur while they travel, and is trying to learn about humans too. What do you think of the footage Cilany uncovered? Can we trust her?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!
Comments
Taliesyn
They say you should never make a deal with a dragon, but honestly, I think it's worse to be on the bad side of an investigative reporter with a Cause. That is going to take a sledgehammer to Federation society. It also explains why our two exchange students reacted to faux-meat the way they did.
Space Paladin
The Feds would probably simply call it, The War; it’s their first, and quite possibly their last. The Arxur may have more profound naming. (We get to Aafa in this morning’s release, by the way!)
I honestly can't wait for us to get to Aafa. Sovlin is armed with superior (and actually correct) knowledge and is ready to go on the offensive for humanity. Meanwhile the fed reps are probably working with limited information, deducing that somehow Earth survived the onslaught and immediately after the Arxur performed an extensively coordinated simultaneous raid on the attackers' planets. Obviously they are going to have an endless well of accusations to hurl at Sovlin, "You've been brainwashed", "all your info is human lies", and "Humans have shown their true nature by allying with the Arxur, they are irredeemable". Sovlin is going to be fighting an up-hill battle but with Cilany's support he'll hopefully be able to take control of the narrative, and even if he isn't able to convince the feds to make peace with humanity and befriend us, at least convince them that making war with us is a fun short-cut to becoming Arxur cattle. I really hope Sovlin flips the script on the feds, comparing them to the Arxur or something for being so gleeful at the deaths of innocent children. I also wonder if Sovlin is ever going to accept that maybe the Arxur have actual art and culture beyond hunting and war (unless that has been lost during this war). Also, a quick question: What do the Feds/Arxur call the war? Obviously they would both refer to the "War" to imply the current one but is there a more... poetic... term for the war, like how WW1 was called The Great War up until WW2 rolled around. I could imagine the feds might come up with a name like "The War for Survival" or "The War of Countless Tears", and the Arxur could instead think of it as "The Long Struggle" or "The Great Hunt" as calling it a "war" might be seen as respecting your adversary as a worthy opponent. Idk. A formal name like that could be used to highlight how the war is viewed by the different parties and hints at the kind of propaganda both sides employ. I'm sure fanfic writers would appreciate a flowery name for the war.
