The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: November 28, 2136

The human fleet maintained their positions, while the Mazic homeworld sat in a precarious spot. Our hail was still transmitting, though the enemy hadn’t picked up. An evacuation transport soared out of the atmosphere, scrambling civilians to safety. The Kolshians nailed the spacecraft with plasma, and aimed it just right to take it out of commission. It seemed that they weren’t trying to decimate it, after all.

Captain Monahan’s nostrils flared with agitation. “Federation coalition, you fire on civilian targets again, and our ceasefire is over. We will not tolerate such actions.”

A violet Kolshian blinked onto a holoscreen. “You’re not going to sacrifice the Mazics, for victory and glory? Are you actually clever enough not to show your heartless side?”

“I question who the heartless ones are, when you’re the ones threatening a civilian populace. I couldn’t care less about victory; we’re here to save lives. That’s what humans stand for.”

The enemy commander paced back and forth, unfazed by the visual of a predator. His crew was a homogenous blend of Kolshians, rather than including aliens. The emerald surface of Khoa was visible in their viewport, along with three target locks on the sensor readout. If I didn’t know better, I would think the Commonwealth officer didn’t know what to do.

He waved a tentacle. “Damn it. We never wanted to kill them; we wanted to kill you. This fight wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“Tell me something I haven’t heard before,” Samantha grumbled beside me.

Tyler glowered at her. “Silence!”

Luckily, my guard’s quip wasn’t picked up on the call; one wrong word could end in catastrophe for the civilians. I was relieved to hear the Kolshians didn’t want to initiate the bombing. At least there was some morality among their ranks, however low the bar was. The Terran captain took the incendiary statement in stride, and curved her lips down.

“Well, why don’t you fight us then? What is it that you want?” Monahan demanded.

The Kolshian’s eyes bulged. “We want you to stop gaining power, predators. Nikonus is right; you show no restraint in your wars. Your aggression is the Krakotl’s, a hundredfold.”

“And your solution to this perception is untampered aggression of your own? I guarantee, if you bomb Khoa, you’re going to give more species reasons to leave the Federation. You can’t undo millions of deaths. That blood will be on your conscience forever.”

“Then back off. You won’t; you’re too proud.”

“I can’t do that. Especially given your history of changing species, irreversibly.”

“So which city should I bomb first, predator? I hear Tlinio has a high industrial capacity…shame it’s a bustling civilian hub too.”

The predator captain had her hands behind her back, but I could see her nails digging into her palm. That indignation was something I shared, hearing such callous threats against the planet. It reminded me of the Arxur’s disregard for civilians; the Kolshians might’ve studied hunters a bit too much. Bartering with lives was dishonorable.

Monahan bared her teeth, and slanted her eyebrows. “That’s your prerogative. But when humanity reaches Aafa—and we will, we’ll glass one Kolshian city for every bomb you drop here. Blood for blood. Should we start with the School of the Flora, or do you have a substitute in mind?”

“You—”

“Shut up. If you surrender now, we’ll treat your lot under our rules of warfare; as prisoners with fair treatment. Trust me, because of those unrestrained wars you saw, you want us to apply the Geneva Conventions. It’s going to be a bad day for you if we decide those are no longer applicable.”

I recalled my lawyer’s explanation, regarding the UN’s prohibition of torture. I was curious what other crimes and devices the Earthlings banished in those agreements. It was a safe bet that contraptions humans thought too depraved for use, were beyond the realms of our nightmares. All predators were prone to unfathomable cruelty; that was why I’d been able to torture Marcel with such viciousness.

Humans are capable of everything the Arxur have done. They choose not to…but nobody wants to see them go fully unhinged.

Fear flashed in the Kolshian commander’s golden eyes. The intensity in Monahan’s hungry gaze brought extra weight to her threat; it was like staring into the countenance of death. That unyielding scowl was an assertion of dominance, whether done consciously or not. I found it difficult to shrug off her animosity, though it wasn’t directed at me.

“I’d r-rather die than see any of my men surrender to you. As for Aafa, you wouldn’t flaunt your cruelty while masquerading for the prey,” the Kolshian hissed.

Monahan bobbed her shoulders. “You’re confused. Either we’re aggressive predators that can’t control ourselves, or we do show restraint. Pick one.”

“I…you’re twisting my words! Alien freak.”

“I have no time for petty insults. What is an acceptable way to get you far, far away from this system? That’s what we all want.”

The Commonwealth officer sported a stricken expression. Hatred sparkled in his eyes, and he stole a glance back at his bridge crew. No captain wanted to watch their subordinates die. I always felt responsible when my plans went awry, and casualties ensued; decisions traced back to the commander.

The Kolshian saw in the underlings’ faces, how much they longed to escape from the predators. The prospect of being hunted by humans terrified them; Terrans were too methodical to outwit. The Arxur could get sloppy due to their food aspirations, but the primates treated war like a mathematical equation. They sought the simplest solution to render the enemy dead.

“Let 1500 of our ships leave, and don’t attempt to pursue them. A few hundred of us will stay behind,” the enemy leader decided. “You so much as scan us, I will order Khoa bombed with the remainder.”

Monahan straightened. “A smart decision. You don’t want to lose so many ships, with all the souls aboard. The UN will allow you to flee; that’s acceptable to my parameters.”

Onso scoured the viewport, as ship activity picked up around the planet. The Terran fleet opened avenues for enemy departures, and made no efforts to engage them. The more hostiles we cleared out of the area, the lower the maximum casualties were. This was a step in the right direction, as far as I was concerned.

The Yotul shook his head. “Should I prepare for pursuit? We can’t just let those bastards leave.”

“I’ll wait for the captain’s orders, but I imagine we’ll honor our word. It sets a good precedent, to be able to negotiate,” Tyler answered.

Carlos shot a glance at Sam. “I know what you’re thinking, but it would be nice to have options on the table. Maybe they’ll even start letting us surrender, giving us sapient rights.”

The female human snorted. “Dream on. They like us better dead.”

“Sometimes, I think the Federation likes us better dead too. But the truth is, they don’t care about us at all,” Onso spat. “Did you know they offered to destroy our railroads and steamboats?”

My eyes narrowed, at the uplift’s distortion of events. The Federation weren’t my favorite faction anymore, but clearing out obsolete technology was helpful. I didn’t understand why the humans were giving him sympathetic looks. Disgust crossed Tyler’s expression, and Carlos wrinkled his nose as well.

I chewed at my claws. “Well, you don’t need them anymore. You’re stuck in the past, Onso. No reason to keep relics around.”

Onso curled his lip. “That’s what they said! They called it a celebration, as they demolished our shipyards. Maybe we still like the things we built.”

“But the Federation’s tech is better. Is this about pride?”

“Pride is not seeking your own identity. Fuck you!”

Carlos swatted my neck. “Erasing someone’s culture and beliefs is a form of genocide. I’d think you of all people would understand that, Sovlin.”

Tyler glared at me, before storming off to comfort Onso. The mention of my name was enough to make his blood boil; the wedge between us hadn’t been dealt with. My wrongdoing wasn’t his fault, and it had never been my intent to disrupt his work. When the current crisis was resolved, I owed the tall human an apology.

The fleeing Kolshians had put some distance between themselves and Khoa, while rushing to escape the FTL-disruptors’ range. I imagined they were looking over their shoulder for pursuing predators. None of them eased up on the accelerator, since being the herd’s straggler was a death sentence. But the humans resisted the urge to chase; they rarely succumbed to hunter desires.

Terrans can conduct themselves like normal people, despite their deficits. It never ceases to impress me.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Captain Monahan turned her back to the camera, gazing at the stars. “We never had to fight. We could work to make something better.”

“Quit it with your lies. Counting colonies, 34 worlds have been wiped out since we met you. And you’ve been here for four months,” the Kolshian muttered.

“We didn’t start, or even bomb, any of those. It’s not our fault everyone keeps attacking us, and abandoning your defenses.”

“You’re in kahoots with the Arxur…pulling the strings even. You wouldn’t attract them if you weren’t rotten to the core. Humans enjoy killing, for all your empathy.”

“I enjoy stopping bad people from hurting others. Nobody else has to die today. Certainly not innocent hostages, because you hate us. On our honor, we’ll let you all leave unharmed.”

The Kolshian shifted with discomfort; it was clear he mistrusted the human’s proposition. Several of the ships he left behind were making a break for it, without waiting for orders. Flighty captains weren’t going to give the predators time to change their mind. It left a sour taste in my mouth, to see the enemy getting away.

“On your honor?” The Kolshian flailed with exasperation. “What good does that do me? Predators deceive.”

Monahan snorted. “So do ‘prey’…look at you. I haven’t lied to you once, nor has the human race. Please, think of the Mazics.”

“I…I’m not a murderer. I don’t want to kill children…herbivores. Shit, your trick is working. We’ll leave.”

The video feed switched off before the human could respond. The Kolshian ships glided away from Khoa’s vulnerable surface, maintaining their formation. The Terran fleet honored the non-aggression pact, rather than confronting the enemy. The predators were here to save their allies, first and foremost.

The human crew offered a rousing applause for Captain Monahan, which took the aliens by surprise. I was accustomed to the predators’ noise level, after living around them for months. Bringing a Terran nearby was a fast way to dismantle peace and quiet.

The poor Fissan on comms bucked in agitation, and the Venlil observers covered their sensitive ears. Onso delighted in the ruckus, however, with his primitive sensibilities. The Yotul began yipping and jumping around, like an animal. Monahan allowed the cacophony for a moment, before shouting orders to pipe down. Silence overtook the bridge in an instant.

The Terran captain sighed. “Let’s not pat ourselves on the back yet. This was a good day for us, but I promise, the Mazics won’t look back as fondly. Comms, hail Khoa.”

The beige mammal on screen answered with immediacy. His eyes were frantic, as though he’d fallen over himself to respond. Upon closer inspection, I recognized the older male as President Cupo. The Mazic leader seemed alarmed to be at the predator fleet’s mercy. Their defenses were laid bare, and the poor guy was frazzled from the assault too.

“Greetings,” Monahan said politely. “Do you require any aid? We’re happy to assist with search and rescue. There’s a civilian hauler immobilized in orbit, for starters.”

Cupo flared his trunk. “N-no, thank you. We can handle it. What payment can I offer you, humans? We’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Payment? We don’t want anything from you. Humanity came to your aid because we’re allies. You’re part of our ‘pack’ now, as I imagine you would put it.”

The Mazic was silent for a long time. Something resembling regret flickered in his gaze, though it was gone a second later. The leader composed himself, and turned back to the camera. He appeared isolated, in a vast bunker with only a single aide.

“I never trusted humanity. I wasn’t willing to risk my people to help Earth,” Cupo said. “Even with Cilany’s revelation, I only committed resources to your team because I saw the Federation was a sinking ship. Now, you protected us, and I am…sorry. Please, let us repay your aid.”

The Terran captain chuckled. “All is forgiven, President Cupo. Your choices were relatively tame, compared to the genocidal maniacs in the Federation.”

“Oh human, I stood beside those people for years. It was wonderful, all herbivores working together, in perfect harmony. How did nobody see the truth? I should have.”

“Don’t blame yourself. We all see what we want to see. Just like people read evil into us, and cherry-pick our worst moments. Because that’s what they’re looking for.”

“You’ve had to grovel and scrape for every friend you have, human, but not anymore. The Mazic Presidium will never forget your heroism. I’ll set aside my best scientists to support your colonization efforts, and you can have the pick of our abandoned worlds. Unless you mind being so close to us.”

“Not one bit. The United Nations would love to cooperate going forward.”

My ears swiveled away from the dialogue, and I padded away from the sensors station. Pronounced footsteps followed at once, and a shadow fell over my form. Without looking, I knew it was Tyler lurking behind me; he was stalking me with predatory intent. Fear pulsated through my ribcage, and my spines bristled to the point of discomfort.

Swallowing, I ambled into the mess hall and swiveled around. The sensors officer’s chiseled jawline was rigid, suggesting the human wanted to bite me. His teeth were ill-suited for that, but the subconscious tell was there. Those blue eyes glittered like ice, scorching into my vulnerable areas.

I cleared my throat. “Sir, I’m sorry for my initial behavior. I panicked when you said Slanek, and I didn’t want to disrupt—”

A fist rammed into my snout, before I could flinch. Tyler’s punch carried phenomenal power, as his calcified bones connected with my skin. I caressed my bleeding nostrils, and the human snaked an elbow around my neck. His knee lurched up into my stomach, knocking out the breath.

I doubled over, but the predator’s grip kept me from collapsing. Pain overwhelmed my senses, and my conscious mind relished it. Control was slipping away, however, as instinctive panic suppressed my faculties. It took the last of my lucidity to refrain from swiping back.

Tyler tightened his hold on my neck, before hurling me into a cabinet. I slammed against the upholstery, crumpling in a ball. The human marched ahead with effortless strides, and hovered over me. My heart was on the brink of bursting, seeing his malicious snarl.

“This is what it feels like to be physically beaten, and powerless to fight back. You did that to Marcel for a week!” the Terran officer spat.

“I…know…” I coughed out the blood that trickled into my mouth. “I h-hate…myself for it. Only…didn’t k-kill myself…so h-humans could have justice.”

The predator watched me crawl on the floor, before extending a rough hand. I accepted his paw, allowing him to pull me to my feet. Rather than resuming the slugfest, Tyler helped me to a chair. He retrieved a paper towel from the sink, and pressed it to my nose.

The primate stepped back. “You want to die?”

“Sure, but I’m a c-coward.” Tears swelled in my eyes, and rolled down in rivulets. “Turns out I’m terrible at getting myself killed, and…at picking out the monsters who hurt my family. It w-wasn’t Marcel, but any predator sufficed.”

“Shit man. Did you ever get treatment for PTSD? What you went through was pretty fucked up. You should’ve never been in a commanding position to begin with.”

“T-treatment for what? That didn’t translate.”

“…I see. You should talk to a therapist; I know a good one. It’s what Marcel would want.”

Tyler decided our spat was finished, and left me to nurse my wounds. Was mental treatment what Marcel would really want for me? My thoughts harkened back to my cell on Earth, and the red-haired human mocking my inability to cope. I was beginning to believe that he realized self-contempt was the worst punishment. Didn’t he want me to live with this misery, until death’s sweet release?

But Tyler knows him personally. If he says Marcel would want to help me…

With Khoa’s rescue, I saw that humans stood for the preservation of life. Perhaps that extended to someone like myself, despite my past. It terrified me to explore my predator side; losing my identity had been devastating. How could anyone grapple with their entire life being a lie?

There was one certainty, one absolute truth, in my universe now. It was that humans were the only ones that could stitch this galaxy back together.