The Nature of Predators

Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: September 3, 2136

It was a maintenance worker, sweeping the ship for any stragglers, who found the doctor and I caged in the beast’s filthy pen.

The reek of waste and blood had been overpowering in the cell; a sickening reminder that the predator had walked those very floors. It felt beneath my dignity to lie in such squalor, with no company but the sulking Zarn.

I could still see Marcel’s hideous face when I closed my eyes. My heart seized at the thought of those sunken eyes, soulless and scorching. The sound of the human’s voice grating at my ears, as he tried to offer some deceitful words, was unforgettable too. When I saw my first officer chumming it up with that savage, it was no wonder I saw red.

What a nightmarish creature it was, I thought. How could anyone ever care for it?

Recel’s betrayal stung more than the burning in my leg ever could. I had taken the Kolshian under my wing for decades, and mentored him into a confident officer that commanded respect. How could he shoot me… for that animal? After what the Federation had endured, wasn’t I entitled to a few minutes of retribution? The human’s suffering paled in comparison to the children mauled as Arxur toys, or the worlds razed in radiation and fire.

The first officer’s most offensive statement was comparing me to the Arxur. Since when was protecting my crew from an existential threat a crime? Everyone would be happier with one less human prowling the universe, other than the Venlil, I suppose. They needed to be rescued before the predators sank their claws any deeper.

“Sovlin,” Zarn growled. “The Prime Minister is on the line. Are you well enough to speak to her?”

It was arduous to round up the crew from various shuttles, but we managed to put the band back together. Placing a medical official, with no combat expertise, as acting first officer wasn’t my first choice, but I needed someone who would support me on matters of human policy. Keeping the crew on a leash was my primary objective.

I raised my hobbled leg, studying the azure-stained bandage. “Of course I am. Recel blew off a limb, not my head! Put her on screen.”

The video call flickered to life, revealing a glaring Piri. “Sovlin. Tell me how you manage to lose a predator, in the mere days since your last check-in! The Federation is going to freak out.”

Word of Tarva’s folly traveled across the Federation within days, after we detained our unwelcome guest. Panic was spreading through civilian channels, and public pressure was mounting for an immediate response. Galactic leaders arranged an emergency convention to discuss joint action, but it would take days for everyone to arrive at the designated meeting spot.

More time would be squandered coordinating the forces of hundreds of independent powers. The Gojidi Union was not content to sit on its paws, while vacillating fools debated the obvious choice. Destructive measures were necessary at once, before the humans lashed out at the Venlil.

We were en route to a Gojid border station to rendezvous with our bombing partners. Launching for Earth felt like my destiny. I was ecstatic to join the mission, and hoped we could cripple the human breeding grounds. The escapees wouldn’t have time to warn humanity, so our attack would come as an unexpected blow.

Now that humans were spacefaring, it was unlikely to eliminate them entirely. But with any luck, their numbers would be reduced to insignificance, and the remnants would wipe each other out with their aggression. The damn predators were a smear on the name of sentience.

“Must your head always be elsewhere? I demand an answer, Captain!” Piri hissed. “How did the predator escape?”

“I don’t know how to say this, but First Officer Recel shot me and released it,” I answered.

The prime minister recoiled in shock. “Recel? Why, he’s served under you for decades. He’s practically Gojid at this point. What pushed him to such reckless action?”

“The humans seem to have an ability to charm others that we didn’t account for. They appear to be able to manipulate empathy, and to pretend to be like the rest of us. My first officer said I was being unfair to the flesh-eater, if you believe that.”

“Well then…I’ll put out a warrant for Recel’s arrest. I’m sure the Kolshians will side with us. There’s no excuse for a veteran, who just watched our briefing videos, releasing a human.” She tapped a few buttons on her console, most likely penning a transmission to the Federation. “At least we’ve gathered some key information from this debacle. The humans are more intelligent than the grays, and more cooperative.”

“With respect, ma’am, what makes you say that?”

“The Arxur would have never made it to space without our interference. But these monkeys did it without outside assistance.”

“I suppose you’re right. That only makes their schemes and ruses more complex. They seem quite capable of mirroring empathetic responses.”

“Indeed. Let’s not forget, Sovlin, the Venlil are one of the weakest, and most emotional races in the galaxy. And that’s by our standards. The humans will enjoy turning on them.”

“My thoughts exactly. Whatever Tarva or Recel say, the only good human is a dead human. And I’m going to see to it that there’s a lot of those by next week.”

“I commend your courage. Oh, and Captain…be warned that we’ve lost contact with two military outposts that were slated to join the bombing run. Our scouts are going to look in, but I’d stay alert.”

I flared my nostrils in dismay. The humans would have had to know about our scheme days ago to launch any countermeasures, and that was inexplicable. Clairvoyance wasn’t a predator trait, to my knowledge.

Tarva wouldn’t be idiotic enough to tell humanity about the Federation’s earlier plans, would she? That would be begging for retribution. Venlil involvement in the plot was extensive, according to my files. Due to Earth’s proximity to their borders, they prodded the Federation to act quicker. The decades our leaders spent dawdling was time for the predators to advance.

Perhaps the humans had kidnapped some Venlil quietly and were torturing them, out of Tarva’s eye. There were a myriad of ways they could have obtained the information.

“I’ll report if I hear anything. It could be the Arxur, though it’s impeccable timing if so,” I said.

Piri flicked her ears. “Perhaps. Is it bad that I almost hope it’s the grays? Ugh…take care of yourself, Sovlin.”

The call blinked out, and I turned my attention to the viewport. The blue dot on screen was an unnamed Gojid colony, with a population around twenty thousand. Its border location lacked appeal for potential settlers, due to the inherent peril; its only drawing point was dirt-cheap housing.

The humans will push everyone closer to home soon enough. Our resources are already strained with a single enemy, I pondered.

Our military launchpoint was lodged on a large asteroid, just beyond the colony’s orbit. It functioned as a hub for bomber squadrons and defensive units. I spotted a few Gojid patrol ships, adrift in the system’s outer reaches. Spacecraft were ready to fight at all hours of the day, in case of any Arxur incursions.

Everything appeared to be normal, but Piri’s warning lingered in my mind. Predators loved stealth and ambush tactics. If our attackers were the humans, that was more proof they were the same as the grays. It was their nature to catch others off-guard and helpless.

“Halt out of docking range!” I shouted. “Scan the perimeter for ship activity. Better safe than sorry.”

It could do no harm to supplement our station’s intel from a different vantage point. Sensors didn’t reveal any subspace disruptions or gravitational disturbances, at first glance. However, there were a few stray radio signals by the system’s gas giants that seemed peculiar. That caught my attention, and I decided it merited further investigation.

“What are those coordinates you’ve input? Why are we turning the viewport?” Zarn asked.

I tapped my claws nervously. “Nothing, I hope. We’ll see soon enough.”

Zooming in on the source of the EMF anomaly, a formation of angular ships became visible. Gasps sounded across the bridge. My spines raised in an instant, and I gaped at the startling image. How could an enemy have gotten within the system unseen?

Lurking near celestial bodies with high masses to evade detection was possible, in theory. But there wasn’t a more dangerous place to disengage warp. While a strong gravitational field masked an incoming subspace trail, it would leave the ships at risk of being drawn into orbit.

It would require incredible patience as well. To avoid discovery, those vessels needed to engage in a series of tiny jumps. That was the only way to ensure that their trail didn’t poke into real space at an unwanted moment.

Did those ships really hop between high-gravity spots, and wait for their drive to respool each time? Not utilizing continuous warp transit would increase travel time tenfold.

That’s no Arxur strategy, I thought. These humans learn quickly, and it seems they gamble with their lives.

Knowing the Terran position, the computer was able to tease out sensor readings. A rough estimation of their capabilities would help us concoct a plan of attack.

“What is their shield capacity?” I barked.

Zarn’s eyes stretched wide in panic. “Uh, I don’t know? How do I read this shit?!”

“I miss Recel immensely. Let me see.” With a sigh of irritation, I pulled up the data feed on my workstation. “Why the primitive…not a trace of ion generators! I don’t think they’ve figured out how to power shields.”

“Sounds like great news! What are your orders, sir?” the doctor asked.

My disappointment with Zarn was already mounting. A lackey wasn’t what I desired, deep down.

I wanted a first officer with their own ideas, who was willing to challenge me when their thoughts were contrary. The thought of Recel wasting in a cell, or being toasted over a fire by the humans, felt like such a damn waste. A fine man, who threw away his career over some misplaced idealism.

“Charge the railgun, but slow and subtle. We don’t want to alarm the humans.” A sharp pain stabbed through my leg, the first sign of the painkillers waning. “In the meantime, let’s amplify and intercept those radio signals. I think two of the ships are talking to each other.”

While Zarn stood around like a lost child, the comms station pounced on my order. Static fed through the PA, an incoherent buzzing.

The technicians took a few moments to fine-tune the settings, and my ears perked up in anticipation. Catching the predators red-handed, gloating over the prospect of eating and torturing sentients, would squash any doubts. It should even be enough to win back the Venlil.

I wonder if Tarva knows about the cheap tactics her…friends employ, I mused. What does she see in these skin-eaters? She’ll be begging us to take the Venlil back by tomorrow.

“may…too harsh on them.” A thunderous voice echoed over the loudspeakers, sinking in to its captive audience. It was so quiet on the bridge that you could hear a pin drop. “The Arxur traumatized the xenos, and we’re just making it worse. They’ll think we’re just like them, Sani. This’ll be their proof.”

“They’re going to attack Earth if we don’t,” came the tired reply. “It’s a military base, nothing more. It’s fair game. Meier didn’t put any civilian targets on the list.”

“But the Gojids haven’t done anything yet. There’s still time for them to change their mind. We should have tried to negotiate.”

“Raj, are you mad? They would drop bombs on London, Mumbai, or Lagos without thinking for a second. They don’t want to talk to us.”

“I know. I just signed on to fight the Arxur, and now…it’s not like I imagined.”

“This is not the time for second thoughts. We’ll offer medical assistance to any survivors. I’m certain the UN and the Venlil will try to broker peace, but right now, this is about surviving. This is about humanity.”

I blinked in confusion. Much of my crew looked dazed, as though they were having trouble processing the conversation. From the two humans’ words, you would think it was the Gojids who were the villains in this scenario, not the stealth ships creeping in on a clueless station.

Why were those predator pilots talking like they felt sorry for us? Why did both of them sound like they wanted peace; as though it were their own objective?

Soft old fool, I cursed myself. How did you almost fall for such a basic trap?

It must be some sort of trickery, an empathetic ploy, in case anyone was listening in. If we hesitated to shoot the human craft, that lent them a strategic advantage. There was no other reason to talk, and give away their position.

It was that charm ability I mentioned to Piri. No wonder the Venlil had fallen for it, after prolonged exposure to their smooth tongues.

“Turn that off!” I hissed. “Delete all records of that conversation. They’re trying to manipulate us.”

“But how could they know we were listening, Sovlin?” a comms technician asked. “What if they actually meant that? And we just keep trying to harm them?”

“Humans don’t understand what peace means, you numbskull! They’re parroting something the Venlil told them.”

The young analyst scowled. “Sir…you have the authority to get our station to stand down. I think we should hail them, and offer a truce. Then, we can see what they do. At least that way, we have no regrets.”

“I have no regrets as is! If you want to talk to predators, you can get on a shuttle and fly over there yourself.”

The word ‘predator’ seemed to snap the crew out of their trance, and I saw a few tail waves of agreement. The technician shuffled on his paws, before he pressed the delete button on his station. A high-pitched beep disrupted the silence, showing our weapons were charged and operational.

I leaned back in my chair. “Fire the railgun. The humans aren’t getting this system.”

“Fire at who?” Jemic, my weapons officer, pointed at the viewport in horror. “Where did they go?”

My eyes widened in panic. The colony! They’re making a run on the colony. Dammit, I knew it was a distraction!

I fired off a transmission to the station, warning them of the ambush. My heart felt heavy; I prayed that my communique reached them in time. My recommended course of action was to divert defenses to the colony, and prepare for an orbital raid.

The humans claimed they were attacking the base. But even if that were their stated mission, predators couldn’t resist landing the killing blow on hapless prey, once in range. The colony was a much juicier target.

A solemn silence gripped the bridge, as we turned our own course toward the planet. Even with such a small population, there was no way we could evacuate in time. My stomach flipped at the thought of needless death; of another atmosphere choked in flame. This wasn’t my first siege, but it never got easier.

We had to stop the humans from continuing the Arxur’s legacy of destruction.