The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Governor Tarva of the Venlil Republic

Date [standardized human time]: November 28, 2136

It shouldn’t have been complicated for species to denounce the Federation’s actions. The issue was that some saw the gene rewrites as merciful, and couldn’t pinpoint the moral conundrum. The United Nations opened their doors to former omnivores, launching genetic research and sharing biology lessons. As the Venlil always did, we placed our full support behind the predators’ actions.

Launching the lab-grown meat initiative proved easy, with some quick thinking from Terran diplomats. Human refugees worked the operation, and passed it off as a desperate attempt to feed Earth. It was announced later that the predators were selflessly handing over their food supply, in a deal they brokered with the Arxur. I wasn’t involved at all, so the political blowback might pass over me.

If this exchange goes smoothly, humanity will be able to say that they rescued millions of Venlil.

Using frozen cell samples from Earth, we’d churned up enough meat for the trade. It was a sickening process, but I reminded myself of the cause. The Terrans facilitated the release of Arxur prisoners from the cradle as well; our side of the bargain was upheld. I was stuck waiting anxiously for the results, with Noah and Sara.

Hospitals across the habitable zone were prepping for the influx of patients. Many humans volunteered to help the rescued Venlil, but they were ordered to wear full concealment gear at all times. We didn’t want the former cattle assuming they were transferred from one predator’s custody to another.

Sara squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. “Your people will be here any minute. We have no reason to assume that Isif will betray us.”

“I don’t know about trusting an Arxur,” Noah growled. “True herbivores like the Venlil must have a lower status than ever, with the recent news. The Dominion could decree that they belong as cattle.”

I took a shuddering breath. “Noah is right. Why hasn’t General Kam communicated anything? Did the grays attack us?”

With uncanny timing, my holopad buzzed in my grip. It appeared to be the Venlil military frequency, with the right encryption and validations. My prosthetic tail bunched up with anticipation, and I tried for a placid expression. News of a successful rescue would be a welcome sound.

The face that flickered onto the vid screen was no Venlil though. It was the scaly visage of an Arxur, with slit pupils directed on camera. Fear rippled through my veins; I wondered why we were being contacted by a reptilian. It took a substantial effort to soothe myself, reminding my brain that the predator couldn’t attack through a holopad. Once I got my bearings, I used a chipped tooth to identify the creature as Isif.

“C-chief Hunter?” My voice sounded more like a question, but I managed to gasp out the words. “Was there something wrong with the parcel? T-the humans meted out the allot—”

The Arxur leaned back. “No, everything went smoothly. The liberated cattle were sent to an abandoned colony, where your people picked them up. Your transports are approaching Venlil Prime now, so I would make preparations.”

“Okay…good. How did you access this c-channel? And why?”

“Study and observation. Venlil ships have poor security protocol. I mean no insult, it’s a simple fact. Anyways, I wished to thank you for your cooperation.”

The reptilian growled with discomfort, avoiding eye contact. It was clear he’d never extended gratitude before. Assuming he spoke the truth, it was a relief to hear that everything had gone according to plan. I was nervous about announcing the result to the public; the humans needed to dress the news up with a meticulous brush.

“I j-just wanted…to free my people. No sapient creature deserves to live like that,” I stuttered.

Isif curled his lip. “I have never liked what we do. The news from Aafa, you know what I’m referring to, is a gut punch. Some in the Dominion are moving the goalposts to what qualifies as a predator, but not everyone is alright with eating ‘true sapients.’ Not my words.”

“You don’t seem torn up about your diet.”

“I already believed that we were eating ‘true sapients’, Governor. I must dissociate myself from such matters. When there is no choice, responsibility cannot be assigned. It did surprise me that the Arxur are not the first victims…but it does not impact my judgment.”

“Victims? The Arxur?”

“One can be both a victim and an oppressor. Your kind, my kind, we are alike in that way. Life is complex.”

The Arxur scanned the camera frame, noting the humans in the background. Outrage flashed in his eyes, as he saw the obfuscating gear. Nobody forced Noah and Sara to hide; the United Nations agreed that freed cattle wouldn’t befriend predators. They chose to help the traumatized souls despite those hurdles.

“I confess, I had another reason for this call. Secretary-General Zhao is not a man of words,” Isif growled. “I knew if I contacted Tarva, I could cut through the red tape. Get on the line with UN diplomats, yes?”

Sara shrugged. “I’m a scientist, who happened to be on the first contact team. My expertise is biology and environmental science, not politics.”

“I’m the Venlil ambassador, but only because I led the first contact mission. No one expected to chat with extraterrestrial life. I’m not trained for this either,” Noah agreed.

The Arxur lashed his tail. “Noah and Sara…I know of you both, and I do not care about your experience levels. Humanity’s handling of the subjugated worlds is shaving scales back on Wriss, not in a good way. Claiming Tilfish territory as your jurisdiction, and demanding that we stand down?”

“The Tilfish surrendered to us,” Noah retorted. “The Arxur shouldn’t be attacking anyone on our side.”

The Chief Hunter flared his nostrils, and threw a sideways glance at me for support. I offered a submissive tail swish. The last thing I wanted was to get involved in a dispute between humanity and the Arxur. That said, I was surprised that the United Nations hadn’t allowed their carnivore “friends” to finish the glassing. Sworn enemies weren’t worth a deadly confrontation with the grays.

Isif’s eyes narrowed to intimidating slits. “Let me restate the issue. I am in charge of only one sector, and by taking Sillis, you pissed off another Chief Hunter. One who’s not as forgiving, charming, and flexible as myself.”

Noah jabbed a finger at the screen. “Tell that commander conquering a surrendered state is the human way. We do things differently.”

"Try again. I need a convincing reason not to ignore your tactless decree. We could finish the orbital campaign, regardless of human presence. For the life of me, I do not see a reason to spare someone who attempted your extinction. We should kill the Tilfish, and the Harchen too.”

“Glassing resources, that could be under our control, is just wasteful. Whether you want a planet for food, precious metals, labor, or fuel, conquest keeps everything at your disposal, forever. We are willing to provide the Arxur with compensation…a slice of the pie.”

“Not to mention, the Tilfish are former omnivores. The more data we have on the Kolshian’s ‘cure’, the more we can learn about the Arxur’s history,” Sara chimed in. “We can protect ourselves, in case the Federation attempts to use biological warfare again.”

The Chief Hunter scrutinized the humans for several seconds. Earth needed to discover a way to reverse the modifications, if only to safeguard themselves. Helping altered species recover their natural state was a bonus.

“Duly noted. I will convey your desire for a larger, sustainable catch,” Isif said. “Take care. Good luck with your rescue, Governor Tarva.”

I flicked my new tail. “I l-look forward to our next conversation, C-Chief Hunter Isif.”

The Arxur ended the transmission, and I fell back into Noah’s strong arms for comfort. With the cattle en route to the hospital, I had to pull myself together quickly. Anything that would shatter the impression of safety had to be concealed. The humans understood this program was about those poor souls…millions of them.

We’ve never done anything on this scale. Reintegrating these broken Venlil might be more difficult than the exchange part.

Multiple transports docked at the drop-off area of the hospital. Venlil medical professionals barked orders, with an assertiveness that might’ve come from humans. Even the rescues without visible injuries were brought to a hospital room, for check-ups and therapy. Noah and Sara checked their gear, as we heard gurneys rolling down the hallway.

The Venlil pair that were rolled into our room were a sorry sight; sympathy stabbed at my heart. Their fur was mangy and matted, soot-colored from grime accrual. Both of their eyes were glassy, unresponsive to any stimuli. I could see brands torched into their neck, similar to the script I’d seen on Isif’s keyboard.

Noah and Sara rushed to lift each Venlil onto a bed. The first patient screamed at their touch. The predators flinched from the noise, before massaging her neck with calming intent. They hoisted the rescue onto the mattress, affected by her pitiful bleats. The two Terrans fluffed the pillow, and swaddled her in a blanket like a baby.

“You’re safe now,” Sara whispered. “We’re coming right back.”

The humans walked to the other rescue assigned to us, a male. They made sure to approach head-on, forgetting that our peripheral vision was expansive. The Venlil shook as they picked him up, digging his claws into Sara’s hair. The Terran scientist disregarded the poking sensation, and stroked his pinned-back ears gently.

“This is home, Venlil Prime. We can reunite you with your families.” Noah spoke in a higher voice than normal, trying not to growl. “We’re going to help you. Can you tell me your names?”

The male rescue shuddered. “One…f-five…”

“No, that is not your name. You’re not a number; you’re a person. With hopes, dreams, and a future.”

“I t-think I…used to b-be called…Glim. Glim.”

The Terrans dipped their heads, and Sara scrawled the name on his bedside chart. She retrieved a water glass, tensing as Glim lapped the liquid like an animal. I sprang into action, offering water to the female Venlil. She was rocking back and forth in the blankets, teary eyes sealed shut. It must be overwhelming, to return to society after so long.

I retrieved a brush, and began to untangle her curly fur. It reminded me of how I used to comb my daughter’s neck, while her father packed her lunch for school. Forcing that memory away, I got to work on the testy knots. The rescued Venlil went stiff as a board, sinking back into a listless state.

“You can rest if you want. You’re safe, really,” I murmured.

Her eyes reflected the harsh, artificial light. “I k-know you. V-venlil ambassador T-tarva. I know you…”

“Yes, I am Tarva. I’m the homeworld governor now. I’d love to hear your name.”

“Haysi. W-we met…you probably don’t r-remember. I ran the Venlil Museum of History, used to ask you for F-Federation grants. Yes…that’s right. It’s like t-that was someone else.”

That did strike a faint recollection from my mind. Noah’s breath hitched, belying his concern. Perhaps that was in reaction to her strained voice, which sounded raw from disuse. Her words lacked the warm cadence of the Venlil dialect.

“Haysi, I’m glad that we met again. That person was you, not anybody else,” I said. “I’m sure the Museum would love to have you back, when you get better. You’re going to get better.”

It was touching to see how patient the predators were, with empathy on par with my own. Sara followed my example, untangling Glim’s pelt. A wash would do the two Venlil good, allowing them to feel sapient again. The Arxur had stripped these poor souls of their dignity, and a little grooming might return some normalcy.

Noah knelt by Glim’s bed, squeezing his paw gently. “What was your old profession, buddy? Maybe we can get you back in the field too.”

“D-dangerous…how I got captured,” the Venlil stammered. “Colony work, I t-think.”

“We’re starting our own colonies now. Sent out a few ark ships after, er, never mind. Do you remember the specifics of your work?

“P-preparing untamed areas for habitation. Extermination officer.”

The human ambassador jerked back, like Glim had struck him in the chin. Sara paused at the brushing task, and processed the new information. If this individual was someone who killed predators before his capture, there was no reason to think Arxur mistreatment changed his stance. I could imagine Glim’s absolute horror, when he realized who he was speaking to.

For a second, I thought both humans were going to abandon the assignment. The two of them would feel uncomfortable, at best, caring for a predator-killer. It would make sense if the Terrans requested a transfer, and found someone more suitable to work with. Noah took several deep breaths, before rising to his full height.

“Extermination officer, huh? That’s a controversial profession, these days,” the human said.

Glim squinted. “Controversial? W-why?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll fill you in on recent events later, but there’s no need to rush your readjustment.”

The extermination officer seemed unsatisfied with that answer, but he didn’t press Noah further. It was a positive sign to see a spark of interest, however fleeting. Curiosity would give the rescues back their agency. But I could only imagine their reactions, when they discovered our close alliance with predator neighbors.

Predator neighbors who were supposed to be dead. And were written off as warlike monsters.

“Who are you? W-why do you cover your face?” Haysi squeaked. “I don’t recognize you.”

Sara cleared her throat. “We’re, um, Gaians. This mask is a cultural thing, as is the attire. We made first contact with the Venlil Republic four months ago.”

“You discovered FTL on your own? Before the Federation found you?”

“Yes. Sort of.”

Both Venlil studied the ‘Gaians’ with confusion. Any intelligent being would notice the pieces weren’t adding up. As much as I wanted to welcome the former cattle back to our society, the humans presented a challenge. It was difficult enough for normal Republic citizens to tolerate our unique friends.

I hoped the Terrans could find a way to keep the truth under wraps, for the time being.