Memory transcription subject: Estala, Junior Exterminator, Nishtal Division
Date [standardized human time]: January 12th, 2128
I stood to attention: head up, feet together, wings straight to my side. The office I had entered was just as grand as the station it represented, filled with plaques showing the great deeds done by its leaders over the years, the Exterminators logo embossed into the far wall in blue and gold, representing the billions of prey protected and saved from the predators that lurked in the dark.
It was impossible not to feel pride standing in such a place, my own uniform perfectly maintained, sidearm cleaned and with deadly accuracy from training. The Exterminators were a wall against the horrific predators that sought our destruction, and I was a single brick in those defences. I knew what pain and horror predators could bring. I knew of the mother I never met, the father I found killed by a predator in our small home a mere five years ago. That was why I joined the Exterminators two years later, at the age of twelve; to make sure nobody else felt that same pain that I did.
Well, worry also filled my mind as I stood in front of the commanding officer of the head Nishtal branch, Ghelsim. The Krakotl was a legend, a force of nature keeping all of Nishtal safe, one of the greatest Exterminators alive. For a Junior Exterminator such as myself to have been called up for a meeting… I’d either done something very, very good… or very, very bad.
“So, Estala is it? Let's cut straight to the feather's edge on this. Dr Prelala, what happened there?”
I couldn't help but feel confused at this being brought up. It was a standard case by the book.
“Yes sir. Dr Prelala, standard Predator Disease accusation due to a possible pro-predator ideology. Empathy test was applied as per regulation 1H-52. All readings were nominal, she was released shortly afterwards.”
“Do you know why the accusation was made?”
“I do, sir. Dr Prelala was involved in research with findings suggesting that the Yotul predators “Hensa” may increase farming yields.”
Ghelsim looked at me questioningly, as if I was a small chick who had said something very stupid.
“Yet with this, you saw fit to release someone proclaiming predators can have benefits? I would think such a PD accusation would be simple to verify?”
“The definition of Predator Disease in 1H-05 does not define such actions alone. While such predatory ideals can be used as an initial screening tool, as described in addendum 1H-TY, the key feature for such a variety of predator disease is an incorrect fear response to predators during an empathy test. Dr Prelala did not fail this portion, and therefore does not legally have Predator Disease by Federation law.”
I spoke calmly and simply, listing off the relevant pieces of Exterminator regulations that entirely remained within the bounds of Federation law. The document listing every process, strategy and regulation was given to all Exterminators upon joining, and I had taken the entire thing to memory. I often got the feeling that my fellow Exterminators tended to… skim the rules, especially since they were only officially found in this one location, and the entire document was a dense 50,000-word document filled with waffling propaganda and long verbiage.
“I thought it would be something like that. I can see your results Estala, you are turning into a fine young Exterminator, brave and competent, but your percentage of confirmed Predator Disease cases are far lower than average.”
“1H-26 demands that all cases must have two negative empathy tests, to avoid false positives, and initial screening measures cannot replace an empathy test result.”
A step that most other exterminators seemed to skip, which was just being lazy. Inatala had brought the Krakotl into the Federation, and the Federation had created these rules and regulations to keep us safe from predators. To be honest, I didn’t understand why people would avoid learning such things just because it took a little extra time. Wasn’t keeping the population protected worth the extra effort?
“Estala, do you really think having someone like Dr Prelala around keeps people safe? That having someone spreading dangerous pro-predator ideas isn’t going to end in tears?”
I paused for a moment, unsure what answer Ghelsim was expecting. On the one hand he was right, the ideas Dr Prelala spouted could lead to others copying her and being put in danger. On the other hand… the rules were very clear.
“All due respect sir, if being wrong or stupid was a sign of Predator Disease, the facilities would be overflowing.” I gave a small nervous laugh at this, one that was not returned. I decided to just ask the commander directly what he wanted. “The rules are part of the Federation that keeps us safe sir. Should I not be following the Federation’s rules?”
Disappointment. I could see it in his eyes, and my heart fell as he looked at me. Was that the wrong answer? How could it even be the wrong answer? Rules were rules, and they were made by the Federation, if they were wrong and didn’t keep us safe the Federation would change them.
“Of course not, Estala. You are just following the letter of the law to your best ability. In fact, this is the real reason I wanted to speak with you: You have exceptional weapons range scores, are consistently praised for your actions while removing predators, and your… commitment to following Federation official rules is admirable. I believe your talents are currently wasted here on Nishtal.”
Part of me wanted to mention that I only practised my aim so much because the official minimum passing rate for an Exterminator was higher than most Exterminator firearm aptitude scores. I decided not to bring this up however, as I realized this wasn’t the right time.
“What do you mean, sir? Isn’t the Nishtal Exterminators the best guild in the Federation?”
“Indeed, and because of that Nishtal is a safe place. Most predators have been eradicated and the Arxur would never dare raid us. Nishtal Exterminators often have trouble getting real experience, which is what I want to give you. What do you know about colony work?”
Who didn’t know about colony work!? I could feel confusion giving way to a small amount of excitement as I realized what I was being offered.
“Colonies are the forefront of the Exterminator’s efforts to aid the Federation, sir. Often headed by some of the best Exterminators in the galaxy, carving out new planets from predatory influence.”
“Exactly Estala. There is a new expedition leaving in [two weeks] time to a planet with the name of ‘Little Yortu’. I want you to be part of this, spend a year gaining much needed experience and do something amazing for the federation.”
Gaining experience was putting it lightly. This was an amazing opportunity. Nearly every single major Exterminator had done some kind of Colony work, and even now I could see the badge representing his time colonizing ‘Horatus’ pinned to Ghelsim’s vest, gleaming in the light.
“Certainly sir, I’d be honoured to do so! I won’t let you down!”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“I don’t expect you to, Estala. Hopefully some real world experience will give you some… context for the Federation’s rules to bring back with you.”
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Memory transcription subject: Estala, Prestige Exterminator, Human Methods Advisor to the Exterminators.
Date [standardized human time]: March 5th, 2137
I stared down at the item in front of me, a swirl of emotions running through my head, ingrained instincts fighting against logic as my heart pounded in my chest. I knew I was safe, I knew that nothing was going to happen to me, but looking at the food sitting in the paper bowl, mere inches away, caused a turmoil of conflict.
Fried chicken.
Or at least, something made out of vegetables designed to replicate the sight and taste of flesh using vegetable matter and a complicated cooking process. I wasn’t stupid or suicidal enough to try actual meat, considering my biological allergy to such a thing and the anti-cure not quite being ready for mass Krakotl testing. Logically, this should make this meal no different to the many other tasty human foods I had tried.
Logic was taking a backseat in my mind.
That wasn’t mentioning the many eyes staring at me in this dingy restaurant, with practically everyone staring in my direction to see my reaction. A Yotul and a Gojid were the only non-human clientele. The rest were humans, many of them with pads raised up to record the first Krakotl to come by this hidden establishment. While nothing they were doing was strictly illegal, the idea of cooking ‘prey food’ to resemble flesh was something only accepted by the most… progressive members to break free of the Federation’s grip.
“You OK, Estala? You don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t need to prove anything.”
Joseph’s words broke me out of my staring contest with the food, causing me to look across at my human friend with his own faux flesh meal. I’d just wanted to do something nice for him, and after finding out about a place that sold humans food rarely found on Skalga, I’d decided to take Joseph here as my treat. I’d not been planning on sampling the cuisine myself.
It felt all so easy responding to the asshole, I quite literally got ‘baited’ into this by a predator.
Many of the clientele didn’t seem enthusiastic at a Krakotl, let alone a Krakotl Exterminator, arriving at their doorstep. Not that I cared, they could take their disagreements and shove them where the sun didn’t shine. But when a random shit for brains through it would be funny to shout ‘Try the KFC’... I let pride and annoyance drag me into this situation.
“I’m fine Joseph. I can do this, it’s just plants.”
Just plants. It didn’t look like it, it looked like something that would come off a small bird and covered in a golden brown crust. I also hated to admit, it also smelled… amazing.
Turning plants into flesh, what a predatory concept.
Shut up Feddie Estala, there’s nothing wrong with this.
You would have tested anyone else for PD for just thinking about eating this…
I said shut up Feddie!
In a final burst of will power I drove my sharp hooked beak into the first of the human creations, feeling it tear apart easily. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was expecting to taste. Bitterness? Evil? In reality… it was amazing.
Juicy on the inside, salty and crispy on the outside, I felt a small part of me, hidden away and locked behind Federation tampering for generations, finally breathe out in relief for the first time. I wanted all of this food inside of me right this second.
The rest of the first tender disappeared in an instant as I destroyed it, practically inhaling the second before Joseph interrupted my feasting with a laugh.
“It's good then?”
I felt myself turn purple with embarrassment as I endeavoured to slow down, giving an enthusiastic affirmative chirp in response.
“Is this really what meat tastes like? How do you even turn plants into something that tastes this good?”
The question was rhetorical as I ate the third piece and moved onto the fourth, but Joseph answered it anyway.
“Well it's not 100%, probably 90% there. Not sure how they do it, but I know there was a lot of work put into replacing meat in the early 2000s because of environmental issues. Then lab grown stuff took over, though it made a comeback in the last year for obvious reasons.”
“Whatever it is, by Inatala it’s good.”
I finished off my fourth piece, only to glance down with a forlorn despair at the horrific realization that there were no more pieces of the fake meat left, only - also delicious - chips. Part of me wanted to freak out over this new revelation, that liking the taste of such a meal made me ‘predatory’, but there were only so many mind shattering world breaking pieces of information a bird could take, before I just decided to go with the flow whenever this kind of thing happened.
Krakotl like flying, Skalga is tidally locked, and the Federation lied about everything in my life.
“Well, now that that’s over, I’ve got something fun to show you.”
There was a moment as Joseph reached into his bag under the table and pulled out a small soft plushy, placing on top the table triumphantly. My alarm and embarrassment came back with a vengeance as I realized exactly what the toy was.
“It took me forever to find this, and they’re supposedly super rare, but look, it’s a little you!”
The little soft toy was indeed a little me, a far younger me, back when the guild wanted to use what had happened on Voyak as a PR win. There had been interviews, voice lines recorded for the VR Federation tour, and of course… the range of soft toys. I looked down as the little me sat there in plush on the table in full Exterminator gear.
“It even has voice lines, look!”
I continued to watch on in horror as Joseph pulled the still working string in the back, causing a far younger me to proclaim out loud “Together we will keep the Federation safe!”.
I wanted to sink into the floor, covering my head with my wings in embarrassment of the reminder of my brief foray into the public eye. Even worse, Joseph clearly knew this was embarrassing, the predatory grin on his face as he showed off the little soft version of me was all I needed to see.
“Where did you even get that? They only made them on Nishtal for a handful of months…”
“Some guy on Bleat was selling one, Cost more than you’d think. It turns out you’re not just an adorable mango loving birb, you’re also a collectible.”
A buzzing from my pocket alerted me of a possible chance to get out of this embarrassment, giving me an excuse to get out of this conversation. Technically I was off work on medical leave, but I’d take any reason to escape the soulless clutches of plushy Estala.
“Hey, I know you’re on time off, but I’ve got another human who’s had a bit too much to drink, and I don’t trust anyone else to deal with it.”
Time off was one way of putting it. ‘Oops, I almost died’ was another. I could still feel the cast placed on the side of my head, covered with fake blue feathers, helping my skull to heal. A human rock concert had turned into a human riot, one I’d helped to resolve non-lethally, but not without me taking a microphone stand to the skull. Brittle Avian bones and angry humans did not mix well.
The message was from the owner of a local bar. Humans had a tendency to overindulge in Venlil liquor, and it wasn’t uncommon for an overly intoxicated human to require Exterminator intervention. However, if I was being fully honest, the quality of that intervention can vary wildly.
“Give me 15, I can swing by and-”
My response was cut short as the pad was ripped from my fingers, my eyes looking up as Joseph now looked at me with a stern look across his features, staring at me as if I was a naughty chick, holding my device out of reach
“No working, you’re supposed to be healing! Whatever it is, there has to be someone else in the Exterminators who can deal with it.”
“It’s just a human who’s a bit too drunk, I can just swing by quickly, stick them in the drunk tank. It’s easier if I do it.”
The look on Joseph’s face suggested that was also the wrong response.
“So there’s nobody else you trust to deal with a drunk human? Because if you’re the only person in the entire district that sounds like a bigger issue.”
“Well… I guess there’s Jkob, or Vaill, or Kallak. I could go ask them…”
Joseph waited a moment, before handing my device back to me.
“Good. You’re supposed to be healing. You nearly died, and if you go jumping back into work you could get seriously hurt.” The human sighed before continuing. “Look, I’ve been noticing you overworking yourself. Ever since you went back to the Exterminators, you’ve been working 60-hour weeks, which for a not persistence specialist species is not good. You’re going to burn out, have a mental breakdown, go into the woods, and try and find another human to eat you. Then I’m going to get jealous because that’s ‘our’ thing.”
Oh great, the embarrassment was back. The double whammy of being reminded about how I met Joseph and my embarrassing attempt to ‘discover the predatory evils’, as well as being scolded as if I was a young chick again.
“I guess… it just feels as if there’s so much work to do to reform the Exterminators.”
“You’ll be no good to anyone if you’re overworked or injured while doing it. These next few weeks, no working. Take up some hobbies, look into painting, or something else. Try out one of the human activities we’ve brought along with us, and you’ll feel much better and more able to accomplish your work when you’re no longer on medical leave.”
Joseph was right of course, and that idea did seem like a nice concept. Humanity was already having a major impact on the culture of Skalga, so picking up a human hobby seemed nice, relaxing, a way to unwind.
What could possibly go wrong?