The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 6, 2136

The way the humans maneuvered through space was like a bird of prey, swooping down on its intended target. It was a graceful and emotionless flight, as I watched the blues and tans of my planet come into focus. Those in the UN fleet who shrugged off their assailants fell into position, and began to coordinate their next targets.

Meanwhile, the dogged Arxur were forming ranks across the globe; they had no intent of relinquishing their position to a few primitives. Every sort of ammunition imaginable was ready to be lobbed at the first UN ship to stray too close. The Terrans weren’t foolish enough to approach the reptilians directly, instead charting their course off to one side. Our nimble ships then hooked sharply back toward the fray, with surprising maneuverability.

I’m surprised the Terrans spec’d into speed. It’s clear they tweaked whatever Venlil building blocks they got their hands on.

The furless predators at our weapon station were growling over which enemy to take on. An indicator blinked red on my data feed, as the humans singled out the weakest link. I squinted at the viewport, studying their selection. The enemy ship’s exterior had lost its shine, and its armor didn’t look as thorough as its companions.

“Deploy missiles on target, and follow it up with everything our railgun’s got.” Captain Monahan’s voice pierced the air, booming and authoritative. “Divert all power to shields, as soon as we get a shot off.”

Carlos tapped me on the shoulder. “Hold on. We could be in for a rough ride. Let’s hope our new developments in ablative armor pay off.”

We banked toward our intended target, which seemed to be tracking us as well. A spray of kinetics battered our exterior, though they did little more than superficial damage. Terran ship design diverged slightly from the Federation, which meant the grays hadn’t learned our weakness. The primates held much more intelligence about the Arxur than the other way around.

Around us, UN ships were careening into the fray with guns blazing; pockets of fire littered the space in our periphery. I couldn’t tell who was suffering more losses in this initial confrontation. The clash of two species of equal ferocity could only mean carnage. The bombing of the cradle ground to a halt, at least, as every ship was drawn away to address the vicious humans.

The fact that a large-scale conflict with apex predators is even close is a damn miracle. It’s easy to forget the Earthlings developed FTL a few months ago, I mused. Imagine how indomitable they could be, given a few hundred years of practice. A scary thought.

Amidst my musings, our spacecraft pelted its opponent with a flurry of missiles. Prompt point defenses took out most of our firepower, but a handful detonated against the Arxur’s armor. The rival ship struggled to regain its bearings, and was unable to return fire with its own munitions.

While dazed, and possibly with navigational troubles, its defenses had shrugged off our initial assault. The dilapidated Arxur vessel peeled back toward one of its compatriots, seeking backup. I could feel the roar of our engine, as we gave chase at full speed.

The technicians at the weapons station were racing to get the shot off. Obliterating the grays with plasma would be a stylish finish. The enemy sensed that they were about to be nailed by the railgun, and yanked their nose skyward.

The humans failed to compensate for the change of course, and our plasma stream missed the mark by a wide margin. The reptilians were emboldened after skirting our heavy blow; they knew we would have to reload. Worse, they succeeded in drawing a partner’s attention, and this late joiner was a newer Arxur model.

“Raise shields!” the Terran captain barked. “Switch over to kinetics. Full speed toward the UNS Lovecraft.”

Our flight took on an erratic path, as the engines were pushed to their limit. The state-of-the-art, fresh Arxur partner had no trouble keeping pace with us, even at our maximum speed. This was back to what they were used to; chasing an enemy that knew they were beaten. The human predators were on their heels, like everyone else.

The Terrans sent off bursts of kinetic bullets, despite knowing full well that the grays’ shields would absorb their punch. Right now, we needed to buy time to find our own backup; it couldn’t hurt to throw everything in our arsenal at them. My sensors told me that both Arxur ships had us target-locked, and that couldn’t be a good omen.

On screen, the allied UNS Lovecraft moseyed toward us; the flashy blue crest on its hull demonstrated it wasn’t designed for camouflage. The rectangular shape, which seemed to boast retractable doors, suggested it could be transporting smaller craft. This human ship was an unseemly clump of mass and guns. A layer of paint didn’t hide that it was a predatory prowler.

Some of their ships are definitely modified Venlil models, but this one? This screams humanity, I thought.

A sensors technician glanced at the captain. “The computer suggests the second Arxur hostile’s railguns are charged. Evasive maneuvers are infeasible.”

“Understood,” Monahan replied, her voice icy calm. “Brace for impact.”

My claws sank into the armrest, and nerves bubbled in my chest. Why were the humans not showing more alarm? An imminent threat on their lives should at least rattle anyone with a trace of sanity. I knew that these predators could feel fear from…Marcel’s responses to me.

Plasma snaked toward us, hungry to devour our metallic shell. The white-hot blur plowed into an aft hangar; at least, that’s where sensors registered the impact. My arm was nearly jerked out of its socket, as the force reached the bridge. The overhead lights snapped off from an electrical short-circuit, and baseboard lighting provided an eerie glow.

The predators that were standing found themselves on the ground. A few of the unfortunate crewmates faceplanted, and hobbled off to mend their injuries. Alarms warned that structural integrity was compromised. Atmosphere was venting from the rear sector, which would require repairs if we survived this battle.

“UNS Rocinante, you alright?” a throaty voice crackled from the speakers.

Captain Monahan surveyed the bridge. “Still in one piece, Lovecraft. We could use a hand.”

“You heard the lady,” came the reply. “Let her rip, boys.”

Our ship staggered down to avoid getting in their line of sight. The Lovecraft powered up twin railguns on its broad hull, undeterred by the energy demands. I doubted they could command the same power as a sole armament. The humans must believe wounding an enemy in two places offset that drawback.

The new-fangled Arxur wizened up to the peril a bit late. By the time it slowed its pace, Terran plasma was already in transit. Two simultaneous beams blazed scars on both flanks, connecting with several key systems. The drive-plume flickered out altogether, which meant our foe was out of commission.

UN pilots steered the Lovecraft toward the original Arxur, and deployed missiles on target. With that monstrous warship on our side, confidence was restored within the bridge. Several humans’ eyes glowed with anticipation of the kill; these predators smelled blood. While the aged vessel was preoccupied with the inbound parcel, the weapons station coaxed our ship’s railgun back online.

A plasma beam barreled toward its target with perfect aim, magnetically accelerated by my devious partners. My instincts told me the enemy was toast before it arrived. Some intuition sensed that the momentum had shifted in our favor, and the Terrans didn’t need a second chance to capitalize.

Fire seared atop the enemy’s armor, and its integrity collapsed. The scorched metal split open from side-to-side, leaving the ship powerless and immobilized. With its weapons systems knocked offline, the Arxur couldn’t deploy interceptors against the Lovecraft’s missile barrage. The vessel exploded in an orange burst, churned into metallic residue and fragments.

“That’ll leave a mark,” came the gloating comment from our allies. “We’re off to respond to another distress signal. Smooth sailing.”

Captain Monahan offered her thanks over the comms, before reviewing the damage to our vessel. It wasn’t quite as extensive as I would expect. There were some nasty wounds across the ship’s body, but all major systems were functional. As long as there were no issues funneling power to weapons and propulsion, we were still in the fight.

The human officer straightened. “Navs, bring us closer to the planet. Our structural integrity is weakened, so we’re going to play a supporting role.”

I lowered my head for a moment, trying to cleanse some of the fear chemicals from my system. The exhilaration, of killing the Arxur, was lost beneath raw sensation. The burning in my chest was making it difficult to breathe, as if I was walking the line with cardiac arrest.

While the predators breathing down my neck were dangerous and untamed, I was thankful they were at the helm. A human’s split-second decision making, under duress, was clearly better than mine. Our brush with death struck more fear into my heart, than any of the surrounding crewmates.

And you’re considered exceptionally brave at home, I mused. I suppose keeping it together enough to function, is what we consider stoicism.

Our vessel curved a winding path through the battlefield, avoiding a solo confrontation with any lurking Arxur. It was sobering to see that several dozen UN indicators had flickered out on our sensors. I hoped those measurements were erroneous, or that each fallen had at least taken two enemies with them.

The good news was that we had numbers. That advantage was minimized in clashes involving the Federation, when fleets often fell into disarray at the first sign of incoming fire. A bold charge, like the Terrans were attempting, was nigh unthinkable. We lost the psychological war before we ever thought of the physical one.

“Sensors, pick out an enemy that’s showing signs of critical damage.” Captain Monahan nodded at the viewport, a thoughtful look on her face. “We don’t want anyone to limp off and nurse their wounds.”

“On it,” a technician answered.

My eyes turned toward the cradle, and homesickness burgeoned in my chest. Beneath the tranquil blue exterior, I knew the ground was ashen and lifeless. The Arxur ships, gliding above the atmosphere, menaced the skies. They were locked in combat with the humans now, but if our mission failed, they would return to their bombing in a heartbeat.

A dark, rectangular object, which burned away from the planet’s glow, caught my attention. There was only one Arxur ship that would flee from the heart of battle. My heart sank into my stomach, and I realized which target the Terrans had to choose. It was a small mercy, for the souls onboard.

I leapt to my paws, ignoring the bile rising in my throat. “Terminate the hostile labeled A9241, on your sensors. Please. It’s on an ascent course, departing from the cradle.”

“Hold on. Why that particular ship?” Monahan asked.

I met her steely gaze. “It’s a cattle ship. It cannot be allowed to leave the system. Put those Gojids out of their misery, I beg you.”

“There are innocent hostages on that ship? We don’t kill civilians, whenever it's possible to avoid it.”

“But there are fates much worse than death. Humans, please tell me you’re logical enough to understand. There are children on there, and I know you care for them. You’re saving hundreds of people from an existence you cannot imagine.”

The captain studied her own readout, and waved the first officer over for a brief conference. I didn’t know what she was discussing with him; it was an easy decision to me. Their hushed words gave the grays time to get away. Maybe these predators did have stunted morality, if they couldn’t discern the lesser evil here. Forget the letter of the law!

Monahan’s head snapped up. “Sovlin, how many Arxur do you expect are onboard?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like anyone’s ever been on one of their ships,” I growled. “But, uh, their landing parties are usually around 2-3 dozen per group.”

“That seems manageable. I’ll put together a breach team, and we’ll send a shuttle to board them. All we need is to knock out propulsion, so they’re dead in the waters.”

The proposition was so simple, yet it almost moved me to tears. I couldn’t believe these savage beasts would attempt a rescue mission mid-battle, at grave peril to their own personnel. From how the UN captain reacted, it was her first instinct. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind to think of those Gojids as anything but gone.

As the officers began assembling a flight crew, I realized there was a foundation of genuine trust forming. The idea that humanity would want the sapient livestock for themselves had barely crossed my mind. I’d begun to believe that this “conquering species” would help us, just as they had with our refugees.

Captain Monahan barked orders to the bridge personnel, who began scrounging what energy they could for the plasma railgun. There was no time to await backup, and most UN ships were preoccupied regardless. The comms station notified all nearby friendlies of the cattle vessel, so that it wouldn’t be shot down while we were trying to seize it. If reinforcements arrived down the line, that would be a bonus.

“Sovlin, I’m going to offer my name for the boarding party.” Hatred radiated from Carlos, as his gaze scorched toward the viewport. “I am a foot soldier, after all. I’d like a crack at those gray freaks.”

The humans’ pent-up rage seeped out, as they contemplated the terrorizing foe. Hunger trickled into their stances and snarls. I could almost feel its burning hum through their veins. Wild, untapped anger spurred the primates to action, and demanded retribution for the cruelty they perceived.

They’re channeling their predatory energy. But they’re still in control of themselves, somehow, even in hunting mode. I can’t imagine the intrusive thoughts it puts in their heads.

Our ship raced toward the Arxur’s transport, gaining on the clunky object. Cattle vessels did have external weapons, but they were more limited than their warship counterparts. However, their internal armory wouldn’t be deficient, by any metric; they were equipped with the tools to eviscerate a city. This wasn’t going to be an easy task for my human allies.

“You’re all so noble, and fearsome,” I growled. “Captain Monahan, let me accompany your team, please.”

The captain raised her eyebrows. “Why would I do that? So the only Federation asset we have can be KIA?”

“KIA?”

“Killed in action.”

“Oh, uh, I won’t get in your way. If you manage to free those Gojids, you’ll need me to stop a stampede. They’re not going to be in their right minds. You’ll…see why.”

Monahan’s rosy lips twitched, and I could sense the unspoken question on her tongue. After witnessing our lack of composure, during their initial landing, she wasn’t sure I’d be in my right mind. It was a valid question, honestly. Charging through an enclosed space, surrounded by Arxur and gunfighting, would break most Gojids.

The mere sight of binocular eyes pumped dread through my veins, and made my spines bristle. It was a constant effort to push that aside, but I could power through it in most cases. My fury toward the grays had to be enough to override it. I tried to show my determination through teeth-baring, raising my claws in a threatening manner.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Very well. Don’t fuck this up, and…for the love of God, don’t die.”

“Understood, ma’am,” I answered. “Just, er, if the mission fails, please take out that ship. No matter who’s onboard.”

“They won’t make it out of this system. Not on my watch.”

A wave of livid excitement almost swept me off my feet, as I eyed the cattle vessel in the viewport. Few people met an Arxur face-to-face, and lived to tell the tale. Insertion into an enemy ship could end in complete catastrophe; such a feat would be unheard of. My predatory companions either didn’t realize, or didn’t care how risky their stunt was.

The eager weapons station pinpointed their target, and plasma arced across the void. My nostrils twitched with anticipation; I was raring to go, same as the predators. This role was a pitiful attempt to atone for my crimes, but at least I felt certain I was on the right side. Any way I could assist the humans, I was going to chip in.