Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, United Nations Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: December 7, 2136

Our shuttle had escaped Sillis’ atmosphere unnoticed, and we docked with Captain Monahan’s ship in a hurry. Almost all of our posse was shipped to the infirmary, after the injuries we picked up along the way. The Tilfish exterminators and their civilian trustees had looked petrified, boarding a predator warship. General Birla was equally frightened, though Virnt seemed ready to run laps around the vessel.

The Arxur turret gave me a close shave, though I was able to save Marcel. The human doctors informed me that my damaged spines would never regrow, due to a degenerative condition. That was not surprising to me, given my advancing age. Gojids could develop new quills in our youth, since they evolved to ward off predators. However, as we got older, hormones prevented regrowth in many males.

“Like human balding?” Samantha had asked, as she listened to the physician’s prognosis with me. “Shit, Spiky’s going bald! Not to be an ass…but Carlos and I are totally going to rib you.”

Thus, when the olive-skinned male visited, I expected some irksome jokes at my behest. Instead, the soldier looked concerned by the bandages encircling my torso. He informed me of the battle’s developments, though he saved the best news for last. The Arxur had collapsed before the humans did, and called for a ceasefire. Sillis wasn’t going to suffer the same fate as the cradle.

I can’t help but wonder how the Terrans persisted for so long. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve seen a UN soldier tire while walking…except for Tyler when he twisted his ankle.

“So that means we can send the Tilfish home, and head back to Earth myself,” Carlos concluded. “You think you can, uh, come with me to share the news with our…guests? I need some moral support.”

I cast my gaze at the floor. “I’ve been staying in here. Trying to stay out of Marcel’s hair.”

The quiet spell alone gave me unwelcome time to ruminate, and my thoughts swirled around with fury. I couldn’t tell which voices were real or imagined. Distant profanity was audible in a Venlil’s register, which hinted that Slanek was near. There were a few things I swore I heard Marcel say as well, in the broken bits I caught.

“I’ve decided…to…Sovlin. He’s pretty…up,” was one of the more ominous lines. “I’m just gonna do it, right here…now. It’s been consuming me…too long.”

It was possible the red-haired human was referring to his bloodlust; I could imagine the urge to harm me had been overwhelming during my prison stint. Our unwelcome reunion must’ve stirred up nasty memories. It was remarkable that he stuffed it down long enough to escape Sillis. However, something in my heart told me Marcel wouldn’t surrender his morals so easily.

“Yoohoo, wake up!” Carlos sang. “I don’t ask you for much, man. Please, just help me with the chest-high spiders. I’m begging you.”

“Hm…explain those green markings on your arms, and I will go with you. Sam told me you’re in a cult when I asked her. I said, ‘Like the Cult of Inatala?’”

“And what did she say?”

“‘Exactly like that, but with more blackjack and hookers.’ I think she’s lost it.”

Carlos threw his head back, howling with laughter. “Oh, Sovlin, try actually looking at it! This one is a picture of a tree, with the words ‘Strength through pain.’ The other tattoo is a bear, which…yes I’m aware it’s a predator. But it’s two dual icons of strength and confidence.”

“I see. Why would you have this drawn on yourself?”

“It’s a reminder. Whatever happens to me, I will be enduring as a tree and fierce as a bear. Our past doesn’t define us.”

“That is a nice gesture, though I cannot unsee the p-predator now. Fuck…you idolize that beast?! Never mind, let’s go see the Tilfish.”

The UN guard let me out of the medical bay, and I studied each room with nervous eyes. Which one was Slanek hiding behind, ready to remind me that I deserved death? The Venlil was right about the justified consequences for my actions; perhaps he could persuade Marcel to get the revenge he deserved. That wasn’t what frightened me. It was the prospect of them conversing with me, showing mercy together, that twisted the knife.

I’m thankful it was dead quiet on the shuttle ride. I don’t know if I can bring myself to speak with my victim again.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips, as we ascended the stairwell to the main deck. The sound of sobbing caught my attention from within a cargo hold, and it wasn’t guttural enough to be human. I focused on my periphery on instinct. The monstrous beast from Marcel’s unit caught my eye; what was left of my spines poked through the bandages.

The red-haired human had hidden it at the rear of the shuttle, avoiding panic. Now, I finally got a good look at this monstrosity. The “dog” was as fearsome as the bear on Carlos’ tattoo, with a shaggy pelt and fangs the length of my quills. It was nothing compared to lunging at an Arxur, but it had the lean form of a killer. Onso was crouched right beside it, and even the violent-minded Yotul was in tears at its presence.

“C-Carlos. Look. T-that thing is…making Onso cry,” I stammered.

The human squinted his brown eyes. “That’s odd. I didn’t get the impression he was afraid of predators. Maybe it’s the stress of combat that set him off?”

I crept over to the room’s hallway, and peered inside. Carlos matched my furtiveness, despite wearing heavy boots on his paws. As primitive as Onso was, it would be wrong to leave him at the dog’s mercy. The Yotul was part of our unit, and humans never left their packmates behind. Blond, close-cropped hair caught my eyes; Tyler knelt beside the Yotul, careful to keep weight off his injured ankle.

Perhaps the sensors officer had put his exchange program partner up to this. I could see the Terran’s lips moving, and Onso nodding blankly. From the bits I was able to catch, it sounded like he was explaining what dogs were. They were pack predators that humans domesticated…to help with farming and hunting?! Tyler had one that lived with him?

That was possibly the most asinine thing I’d heard in my life, worse than asphyxiating fish as a child. Encouraging a predator to switch on hunting mode around them was suicide; it must be difficult even for a sapient Terran to rein themselves in while searching for prey. Was this creature used to slaughter farm animals so the humans didn’t have to? If dogs were that ravenous, it was more deranged that the primates let them inside their living quarters.

I tiptoed a few steps closer, and strained my ears. It was essential to hear what they were saying, so that I could intervene if necessary. The last thing that we needed was for the Yotul to pass out around this slobbering animal!

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“I understand. S-so…his name is Dino?” Onso sniffled.

Tyler ran a hand over the beast’s forehead, smiling. “Yeah. Marcel says that he loves Slanek, so I don’t think he’ll be a problem around aliens. Dogs read our social cues, so Dino knows which ones we like.”

“You…l-love your dog back on Earth?”

“Sure do. I’d always feed her table food, and Pops would yell at me. She’s getting older now, but she’s always happy when I visit. Dogs’ll miss you whether you’ve been gone one year or one minute.”

Something about that statement snapped the last straw of Onso’s composure. The Yotul turned inconsolable, and wrapped his paws around Dino’s neck. The dog whined as the primitive buried his face in its coat; its jaws opened with feral intent. Its tongue leapt out of its mouth, and it impressed its slobber into the uplift’s reddish-tan fur.

Tyler tilted his head with concern, and pressed a hand on Onso’s back. He moved his bony fingers in soothing circles, desperately reassuring his friend. The Yotul screeched in a discordant tone, curling his claws deeper into Dino’s scruff. The dog wriggled out from under him, and pressed its wet nose against his cheek. It began lapping at the uplift with repeated licks, building up a taste for his flesh.

“Talk to me, buddy. What’s wrong?” the sensors officer whispered.

Sobs wracked the Yotul’s body. “They killed her. They killed her! Papa shot her. Papa…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. I’m not sure what you’re saying, but I’m here for you.”

“If I told you what they did to us, you’d be ashamed of us. We just rolled over—"

Carlos jabbed an elbow in my side. “Sovlin! I think we’re intruding on a private conversation.”

“I…I think so too.” Sympathy clutched at my heart, seeing the brazen Yotul on the verge of a breakdown. “Let’s move on. Don’t worry, I’ll do the talking.”

The human and I slid backward, though I shot a glance back at the despairing primitive. Tyler had pulled the Yotul into a full embrace, and his form looked massive next to the herbivore. I hoped the blond Terran had everything under control; he knew his exchange partner better than I did. It left me to wonder how their first conversations were gone, and how much they’d opened up to each other.

Carlos gestured to another cargo hold, which had been converted into a group dormitory. UN sentries were posted outside the room, and they looked quite antsy. I suspected the constant watch was to prevent the insectoids from wandering the ship. Back in Kolshian territory, Carlos stated that the Tilfish ambassador “freaked him the fuck out.” Many humans found the Tilfish likeness unnerving, which still amused me.

“Watch, this is gonna be easy,” I told the male guard. “Let a master of diplomacy show you how it’s done.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Master of gunboat diplomacy, maybe.”

The Tilfish refugees halted their conversation, as soon as we entered the room. General Birla eyed the unknown human with wariness, and tried to move Virnt behind her. She had found Tyler daunting too, with his imposing size and icy eyes. I moved my body subconsciously, obscuring Carlos’ “bear” arm with my form.

“So, humans forced the Arxur to stand down and return any Tilfish cattle. Your planet will not be bombed to smithereens…today,” I declared. “You can go home.”

The insectoid exterminators comforted the children they’d rescued, and murmured something among themselves. I caught something about other kids being taken away in cages; my news about the cattle meant they may be returned unharmed. It was tough to trust an Arxur’s word, but the demons had started the exchange process already.

The Terrans need to move quick enough, before the monsters break their agreement.

General Birla clicked her mandibles. “What do the humans want from us?”

“To leave their ship as soon as possible, probably. Trust me, they don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here.”

“Marcel told me…we’re symbols of disease to their brains.”

“Yeah, I mean, look at Carlos here.” I clapped a paw around the male human, and the physical touch made him jump. “See? You scare the predators. I’m sure you like that.”

“I…actually, I don’t. Do you think I could say good-bye to Marcel? He was quite kind with me and Virnt.”

“I’ll ask someone else to pass the word along. It’ll have to be soon; they want to head home in a few hours.”

“See, Virnt? We’re going home. It’s safe, and the humans—"

“NO! I WANNA GO TO EARTH. I WANNA GO TO SPACE WITH HUMMA!” Virnt wailed, in an ear-piercing tone.

“You can’t do that. For the last time, humans don’t like us. Earth is their—”

“HUMMA NOT LIE! NO LEAVE!”

The child’s deafening tangent morphed into incoherent screaming. Carlos pressed his hands to his ears, and keeled over at the waist. I took the opportunity to depart the room with my friend, noting the apologetic look in Birla’s eyes. The Tilfish general had tried to break it to Virnt gently, but it was obvious that they weren’t welcome on the predators’ cradle. Why was the kid so dead-set on visiting Earth?

Carlos rushed over to a water fountain, and slurped down the cool arc of liquid. The human blinked his eyes shut, before wiping his lips against his hand. He turned grateful eyes to me, and allowed himself a full-on shudder. Perhaps the experience gave him newfound sympathy for what it was like, when I first boarded this ship packed with predators.

“Thank you. I felt my throat clam up…I couldn’t speak. Now it’s done, and we can send them home,” Carlos murmured.

I chewed at my claws. “Don’t mention it. That kid was a nightmare. Sooner he’s back on Sillis…and screened for predator disease, the better.”

“Predator disease? For throwing one tantrum?”

“There’s some behavioral issue going on there. Onso is predator-diseased too, but that seems to be a species-wide thing. As someone who has some, uh, symptoms myself…I do wish I could ask for help. That I got treatment when I was young, when it might’ve been fixable.”

“Sovlin, you have PTSD. It’s caused by trauma, because of what you saw with your family.”

“That’s not how predator disease works.”

“Per the Federation ‘scientists’ who don’t know what an omnivore is.”

Weariness tugged at my chest. “You know what? Fine, everything I ever believed or knew is a lie. Sure, whatever, seems to be the pattern. Happy?”

“Jeez, you can’t temper the self-pity for ten seconds. I’ll take you back to your room.”

“I know where it is! I can walk back by myself.”

“Be my guest.”

Carlos stalked off, arms folded in the way humans used to cordon off their emotions. I bolted off in the opposite direction, and tried to regulate my breathing. The humans had to view everything contrary to the Federation, just to take a wrecking ball to our reality. Nothing was sacred to them, not even the most basic truths. Either I was a diseased individual who snapped, or my omnivorous species was the disease.

If anything, the trauma just helped me direct my anger issues at predators. It was the guiding mechanism.

I stomped past Onso and Tyler’s cargo hold. The Yotul was tugging a rope, with a little help from his human pal; Dino had the nylon clasped between its fangs. The dog had decided this twine was its prey, and refused to let go. I wasn’t sure why the primitive and his exchange partner wanted this string so desperately. At least they weren’t stupid enough to stick their paws in its mouth.

Rushing off down the stairs, I returned to the medical wing. My pace slowed down, careful to avoid detection by any other patients. The last thing I wanted was for Slanek to catch me in his sightlines; after losing so much blood, the Venlil must be tied down here. My pupils darted about, and swept for any signs of which room belonged to my victims.

One door was cracked open, which hadn’t been ajar when I left. I pressed my body against the wall, and inched up to the frame’s edge. After considering my options, I risked a quick glance inside. It was unmistakably the tortured human and his Venlil inside. Slanek had an IV hooked up to his bandaged arm, and was resting his head on Marcel’s chest. The predator was entranced by a nature documentary from Earth, which played on the TV.

Shit. Maybe I can sneak past and they won’t notice me. They’re both fixated on the TV, right?

I dropped onto all fours, hoping that would help keep me below their sightline. Pain scorched down my back, as it stretched out the damaged skin. Cursing internally, I crawled ahead like a toddler; my claws made clicking sounds against the tile. I could see Marcel’s hazel eyes land on me through my periphery, and watched his head pop off the pillow.

“Sovlin?” the human queried. “Come here. Slanek needs to speak with you.”

I froze like cornered prey, and dread formed a knot in my stomach. It was possible to keep walking, but Marcel had every right to make demands of me. This was pure cowardice, avoiding him because I was afraid of his civility. Besides, if this human was dead-set on conversing with me, I doubted I could outrun him.

Steeling my nerves, I rose back onto my hindlegs. My heart thundered with the fury of a stampede, but I turned my feet into the room. The universe had brought me face-to-face with my victims, and now, there was no choice but to engage with them. There was no telling what his Venlil buddy would do; I would offer myself to Marcel’s whims once more.

The human had a captive audience, and I’d yet to discover why he wished to speak with me.