The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Dominion Sector Fleet

Date [standardized human time]: December 4, 2136

The empathy tests were an assortment of prey species facing torment. For the first time since childhood, I leaned into my defective voice. It was painful to allow myself to feel fully, without casing those primal sensations in a shell of logic. Witnessing unnecessary suffering elicited a shameful amount of pity, just as it had back at Shaza’s farm. Now, more than ever, I knew herbivores were not just spineless animals.

The look on Secretary-General Zhao’s face, as his scientists explained my results, was vindicating. The human leader did honor his agreement with Tarva, permitting me to board her ship. I was surprised the Venlil leader wanted me confined with her for hours; from what I could tell, she carried no firearms. Shouldn’t a prey individual expect me to snap on a whim, and thus not want me seated across from her?

I rested in a brooding state, mostly keeping to the co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit. Governor Tarva sensed my sour mood, and allowed us to travel in silence. It made for an awkward ride, with the rescued Zurulians in the cabin behind us. The Venlil possessed more patience than myself, coaxing the quadrupeds to indulge in basic self-care. Her constant reassurance and crooning tone grated on my nerves, whenever she ventured back to their locale.

“Thank the Prophet we’re almost to Venlil Prime.” My pupils snapped toward Tarva, as she returned to the cockpit once more. “How the fuck did the humans survive all these exchange programs?”

The governor shot me a disapproving look. “Have some sympathy. Those three were literally just captured and brought to a farm, where your lovely comrades threatened to eat them.”

“I do have sympathy. I didn’t want them to be eaten, did I?”

“Never mind, Isif. You can have this ship when we get to my homeworld. If my people saw me riding with you…”

“I appreciate your assistance, Governor Tarva. I too considered Elias Meier a friend and an ally. Even with his intervention, the fact that you would listen to an Arxur is not lost on me.”

The Venlil was silent for a long moment, and her ears pinned back with a meek emotion. Her limbs weren’t quivering, so I wasn’t inclined to label it fear. Though it was tough to read prey cues, my best guess was that it was grief. Sadness swirled in her irises, before she looked at me with something bordering contempt.

Tarva cleared her throat. “I know you have done…have presided over horrible things, Isif. Genocides, raids, and systematic slaughtering. Your motivation to avoid your own execution doesn’t change that.”

“You are right. I see why my statements about not assigning responsibility can be perceived as callous. Please, do not take my detachment as a sign that I do not regret my culpability.”

“Didn’t you order the raid on the cradle? The Gojids are an endangered species because of you.”

“Someone else would’ve done it if not me, yes? But it was me, and at the time…I believed coexistence was not possible. My beliefs have since shifted.”

Governor Tarva was silent, scowling at the viewport. The Gojid cradle was intended to be like any other raid; with their border defenses down, it made a frontal assault tantalizing. I hadn’t known why the defenses were offline until later, when reports from the planet’s surface circled back to me. Another predator race taking on the Federation…it was too good to be true!

We’d be alone for so long. I was certain it would be disproved, I mused. Then, humanity took the cradle back from us. The sheer guts! The audacity!

The Terrans bested us fair and square, allegedly using Venlil ships in their arsenal. It baffled me that they worked hand-in-hand with prey, but that led to my deduction of humanity’s social nature. Intrigued by these specific aliens, I aimed to learn more about them. A new predator opened up avenues with their presence; it meant someone else wasn’t indoctrinated by the Federation’s spiel.

Looking back at the Gojid cradle through Tarva’s lens, I realized how differently humans viewed our first meeting. Planetary raids instilled very little guilt after all these years; it was something I deigned not to dwell on. What would Nulia think, if she learned “Siffy” was behind the “bad monsters’” arrival? How many children like her had I doomed to cattle farms?

One of the last things Elias Meier did was convince the Mazics to aid the Gojid refugees. From what I’d heard, the Zurulians and the Paltans took in a handful as well. The spiky herbivores had limited numbers now, and Earth was in no place to be offering asylum. The United Nations had lifted their protection of Gojid colonies, which led many survivors to flee.

“The Gojids were a sad case, Tarva. I did give those orders; I’m not dodging responsibility. I understand that my past actions have been hurtful,” I offered.

“You don’t know hurtful. You took my daughter.” The Venlil leader’s voice quavered, and she shoved me with shocking aggression. “YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTER! It was you. You ordered the grays to gas Venlil s-schools: what, to crush our morale?!”

“I…I am sorry. I had no idea that you were personally affected by our raids, and you do not deserve that. Whether I directly ordered this instance or not, the Arxur who did it reported to me. They were under my command. I took no actions against routine attacks, certainly nothing to draw suspicion.”

“It was just ‘routine’, huh? I fucking know you feel empathy, and you could’ve done things differently. Why did you have to be so cruel?!”

“I will not disrespect you by making excuses for myself. If there was any way I could undo the past, I would, Tarva. But I cannot. Your hatred and inability to forgive me, it is understandable.”

The Venlil governor swiped at the tears in her eyes, and I felt a strange urge to place my tail on her shoulder. My logical brain reminded me I was the last person she’d want comfort from. Most species loved their children, referencing their loss as the greatest pain imaginable; that was why the Dominion learned to target the youth. Perhaps if my nurturing instincts had been cultivated better, I could understand.

Tarva cleared her throat. “I am willing to work with you, but I will never forgive you. I cannot forget what you’ve done.”

“Your animosity is justified. My only atonement is to pave a better future, so that this will not happen again,” I hissed. “That is my sincere hope…I will do everything in my power to protect Venlilkind.”

“You must’ve had a difficult life, Isif. To never be allowed to express your emotions, forced to fit in with despicable people. You deserve a friend. I just cannot be that friend, even if Elias would’ve wanted me to.”

“Silly leaf-licker. No prey will befriend me. The Zurulian mishap proved that, yes?”

“In real life, sure. It would be best if they didn’t know who you are. You can talk anonymously on the internet though. General Jones gave me this holopad over here, said you’d ‘want it back.’”

“Seriously Tarva? You think that holopad is meant to join…some Federation chatroom? I have nothing in common with you people!”

“That’s just my advice. I think it would be good for you to understand us ‘hunting-challenged’ races better. To express your empathetic side, and not to be alone.”

I offered a dramatic huff, and turned away from Tarva to reinforce my disdain. My paws did snatch the holopad, though I was suspicious that General Jones may have tampered with it. The Terran officer had returned my standard-issue device as well; I inspected it closely. Whatever purposes I used these electronics for, I should be certain I was okay with humans viewing them.

Governor Tarva was attempting to be empathetic, but her suggestion was lunacy. What good would it be to get attached to a prey alien, when I might have to kill and butcher their kind later? What had relaxing my guard around Nulia accomplished? All discourse with the herbivores resulted in was guilt.

***

Hours later, alone on the ship with my thoughts, I set course for my spy station. Governor Tarva bade me farewell, after supplying me with meat rations from the local factories. Knowing the Venlil’s anti-carnivore values, the generosity of that offering couldn’t be understated. I wondered if this was the start to building a bridge of trust. We would never be friends, but partnership wasn’t out of the question.

That was all a moot point, if I didn’t return to commanding my sector. Arxur were solitary creatures, who cared little for others’ welfare. However, if I didn’t check in soon, the Dominion would start asking questions for practical reasons. I needed to drum up an explanation for why I’d lost my own vessel, and returned in a Venlil transport.

Perhaps the humans’ tooth drive could help you. Why haven’t you given it more than a cursory glance?

Instead of crafting my story, I was learning how to navigate through the Federation internet. Passing close to our FTL backdoor with Mileau, the Dossur homeworld, I’d been able to establish a connection. As small rodents, the Dossur weren’t at the top of our meal list; they were the “least valuable” species in my sector. Their territory bordered Gojid space, but on the opposite side from the Zurulians.

“Stupid Tarva,” I growled aloud. “Putting stupid ideas in my defective brain. How did she know that I wanted that?!”

The Dossur had a social media site called SwiftPair, which would randomly assign anonymous users to chat. The rodents had few abilities beyond jabbering to each other, so of course they’d devise such a platform. Then again, humans had a propensity to run their mouths about nonsense too. That was just how desperate social creatures were for belonging.

My traitorous claw hovered over the “Pair” button, and I cursed myself. Perhaps I should just let Tarva’s recommendation backfire, so I could move on. Honestly, what harm could a single chat do? I could always intimidate the little critter away if they became a nuisance.

I clicked the button, and the algorithm found a chat partner in a half-second. The public profile classified this Dossur as a mid-twenties female located on a space station.

Hi, I typed hesitantly.

How’s it going? Please tell me you’re not just on here to flirt, came the instant reply. I swear, it’s like this became a dating app overnight.

What? I don’t know why I’m here, but it’s certainly not for that.

Good, ‘cause I will block you if you’re lying. So I’m Felra, and I’m a spaceship inspector. Catching every slapstick, half-assed repair job the human alliance throws at us.

You work with humans?

Not directly. We just let their allies marshal some forces at the old Fed spots. The UN is talking about an exchange program, but we’re the smallest species in the galaxy. Problematic.

There was a pause, before the Dossur typed another message. What’s your name?

Nerves crept into my throat. Not only did I have little clue how to sustain conversation with an herbivore, but my real name was infamous. Word must’ve gotten around about the sector’s Chief Hunter, after my broadcast on Earth. It wasn’t like I could tell Felra that I was an Arxur; it would stop her little heart, assuming she believed me.

Siffy, I decided.

That’s adorable! You must get that a lot, but props to your parents.

I do not wish to discuss my parents.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. What do you do for a living, Siffy?

“I bomb planets, execute people for empathy, and farm sapients,” I quipped aloud.

This and that, was the actual reply I sent her. Nothing you’d be interested in.

Felra typed back hastily. You don’t talk about much, do you? You’re prickly as a Gojid.

I’m not…used to talking. This was a mistake…I deserve to be alone.

This was a waste of time; I reprimanded myself for indulging these urges. There was no telling how the humans were faring at Sillis, and I needed to check back in with the Dominion fleet soon. Rather than making preparations, I was chatting with a creature that resembled an Earth ‘mouse.’ Had the loneliness really been this crippling for all these years?

A banner popped up on the app, indicating that Felra sent a friend request. I had no clue what was going through that Dossur’s tiny brain, but she must’ve been meaning to block me. As I prepared to fire up my Arxur communicator, I made out the rodent’s next message. It read, “No one deserves to be alone.”

Snorting in amusement, I accepted the request before dipping offline. General Jones should’ve kept this Terran holopad, so I wouldn’t get sidetracked on preylike pastimes. The human officer knew I was defective, and didn’t take precautions to suppress these tendencies. Wasn’t that what she meant about getting myself killed?

There was no guarantee Felra would respond to future messages, but I wasn’t going to squander more time. With my direct course for the spy habitat, the Arxur Dominion required notification of my vehicle change. I entered my credentials, before pinging my headquarters. The day-long absence made it likely I’d be in contact with the brass, rather than my underlings.

It was time to put on the façade for our government, and resume my role as Isif the fanatic.

Prophet-Descendant Giznel accepted my video call. “Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding your check-ins, Isif? For a less-faithful hunter, I would have you executed.”

“Your Savageness, I take it you know that I visited Earth. Shaza is a fool, and your wise decree was for us to settle the dispute,” I explained. “The humans may have seen the wisdom of standing down…yet alas, I was too late to accomplish that.”

“You disappeared for a full day. I doubt both your conviction and your loyalty, Isif. You are not willing to kill the humans, are you?”

“That’s absurd! I am gathering intelligence on Earth, in case we need to fight the leaf-licking apes. I don’t care about humans. I want Betterment imposed on the galaxy, at any cost. Hallowed Prophet, they can learn to drink from the river of cruelty! You knew this yourself!”

It was unclear whether Giznel believed my argument, but he had opted not to kill me on sight. The Prophet-Descendant could be convinced of diplomacy’s usefulness; as long as I was strengthening our cause, I was safe. The alarming part was his overt accusation that I was a human conspirator. Betterment had been partial to me for years, and this development meant I couldn’t hide behind favoritism.

The Arxur leader narrowed his eyes. “That is not your ship you’re streaming from, either. Is that…”

“Yes, I made off with prey technology. The humans found tactical advantages commandeering Venlil ships,” I growled. “I will dissect the design, because those grass-brains aren’t worthy of killing us. If war is inevitable, the Dominion will be ready.”

“We pay Venlil technology the respect of studying it now?”

“I want our glory, Savage One. Our victory must be resounding, and prove our superiority.”

“You are straying from the path, Isif. But you were right about humans being formidable foes.”

“Is that so? Nobody agreed with me before. I have missed something from Sillis and Fahl, yes?”

Giznel scrutinized me for another second, before swiping at his holopad. The compilation contained distress signals from across Shaza’s sector, which were sent through our FTL networks. Farm habitats forwarded footage of humans raiding our facilities, and undefended stations being reduced to rubble. The Terrans severed our comms infrastructure shortly after these transmissions.

The UN could’ve cut the proverbial wire earlier. They want the Arxur government…and Shaza to see this.

Laughter rumbled in my chest, as I realized the UN’s true strategy. The humans used the occupied worlds as bait, and Chief Hunter Shaza played into their hands. That foolish Arxur was so eager to teach the “weaklings” a lesson, that she hadn’t guarded her most valuable possessions. Every strategic asset and supply depot across hundreds of light-years was erased.

“This amuses you?” Giznel hissed.

I bared my teeth. “Shaza’s incompetence brings me nothing but joy. Does she know yet?”

“Word is reaching her around the same time as us. She will be made aware soon, but I have to deal with her mess now.”

“Ah, don’t bail her out! This was her great master plan, after all. I know how to handle humans, and I need your trust going forward.”

“You can hardly fuck up worse. I’ll humor your weird ideology, Isif, but I’m watching you.”

The Prophet-Descendant terminated the call, and left me to chew on his words. My first conversation as an official human spy, and I already had Giznel sniffing around my business. This was going to require me to operate more carefully; the freedom I’d enjoyed in the past had waned. General Jones was right to warn me about eyes and ears everywhere.

My gaze drifted to the Terran holopad, which sat in the cockpit. Browsing alien internets was perilous too, unless I could find a suitable cover. With my actions under a microscope, talking with a Dossur inspector was a fool’s errand. Felra shouldn’t occupy my thoughts, since I’d only be able to sneak sporadic messages at best.

How long could I hide my Arxur identity from her? What if I have more in common with prey than my kind?

I shook my head. The future of the galaxy was at stake; this was no time for emotional baggage. It took a weight off my shoulders, to know that the humans punched back from Sillis. A straight-up fight had been inadvisable, but Shaza’s arrogance was her undoing. I would pay a pretty penny to see the look on her face, when she discovered her empire had collapsed.

My goal was to ensure that humanity’s war remained with a single warlord. However, keeping Betterment off their backs might prove to be a challenge.