Memory transcription subject: Captain Sovlin, Federation Fleet Command

Date [standardized human time]: October 8, 2136

No matter how often I replayed the Arxur’s words in my head, I couldn’t understand why the Terran observers would trust them. It was at the humans’ clutches that the traumatized refugees were nursed back to health. They risked life and limb, and lost hundreds of ships in pursuit of our survival. How could they reconcile what they’d seen with the prisoner’s narrative?

The primates had loathed every aspect of the cattle ship, and acted distraught at the condition of the victims. I had wondered how one could tell when a predator was truly hungry, until I saw the darkness in their eyes that day. There was a bottomless abyss of rage inside their pupils; it was a much-needed reminder of human volatility.

My service on this vessel was for nothing, I bemoaned. What if humans decide to give the cattle back? Have I just helped the Arxur land a game-changing ally?

The door to my quarters clicked open, and a weary Carlos strode in with a vegetable platter. He placed the tray on the bedside table, without any sort of apology. The food was soaked in some clear fluid; it felt viscous against my claws as I poked it. Had the omnivores coated the plants in an animal secretion? Maybe it was saliva, or worse…ugh.

“Why the fuck are these vegetables wet?” I snarled, with as much hostility as I could muster. “Disgusting.”

Carlos crossed his arms. “It’s olive oil, Sovlin. Relax. You might even like it; lots of healthy plant fats.”

“I don’t want anything from you...predator.” I grabbed an orange-colored slice, and flung it at his cheek. The human barely reacted, only wiping the oil off with his chest-pelt. “If you still feel empathy, shoot me now. Before I watch your kind turn on every species with a semblance of decency.”

“You’re overreacting. And you are not going to refer to me as ‘predator’ again.”

“Why not? You defended the fucking Arxur, then accused me of deception! I don’t want to see your face.”

“Just listen to me, alright? Sixty seconds.”

Renewed disgust flared in my chest, as the guard’s binocular eyes pleaded with mine. I knew humanity didn’t want sapient livestock of their own, but defending the act made them equally culpable. No moral race would rewrite the tragedy of first contact and the unspeakable losses that befell every species.

The image from my nightmare, of Carlos roasting me over a fire, seemed much more realistic. He just proved that he could see Gojids as food. This man…beast was a traitor to sapientkind, and yet, I had grown attached to him. What happened to throwing the Arxur in the cattle pens, ‘where they belonged?’

I slashed my claws across a pillow several times, and struggled not to turn them on the human. “I will never agree with you. Don’t waste your breath.”

“I’m not asking you to agree with me. I’m asking you to understand.” Carlos eyeballed the decimated pillows, as fluff was flung across my form. “Look, I listened to your spiel on torturing an innocent human, and tried to empathize with you. Don’t you think you can at least try to see where I’m coming from?”

“The grays are your fellow predators. They’re more like people to you than us.”

“This isn’t about the Arxur, Sovlin. It’s about the Federation and how they’ve treated us. The prejudice and the hatred.”

“That is because of the grays. They won’t stop until we’re destroyed! Erased!”

“But can’t you see how it looks from our side? Why we would think you’re capable of killing and terrorizing predators, when you’ve been hellbent on our extinction since you discovered us?”

I chewed at my claws, considering the welcome that humanity had received to the galaxy. Governor Tarva had made them aware of the Federation’s extermination plans; the only reason their species still lived was due to misinterpreted sensor data. The second their survival was discovered, the entire organization convened to discuss a raid on Earth.

There were entire religions formed around the eradication of predators, including the one on my world. Most individuals the UN tried to contact rejected the idea that humans could be civilized. This was typically due to the belief that their ilk were incapable of empathy, cooperation, or basic bonding. My experiences proved the error of that prior research.

In Carlos’ paws, I would definitely resent the Federation. Maybe it would seem within the realm of possibility, that we had done a similar thing to other predators.

“I guess. But I know better than to believe an Arxur’s lies,” I growled. “However bad you think they are…they’re worse.”

The human lowered his eyes. “I’m not saying Coth is telling the truth. I’m saying he could be, because I know how much you hate our existence. I’ll believe whatever the evidence says.”

“Then I’ll help you prove it wrong. Only because I am sorry for what the Federation has done to humans. I regret how much it has soured your opinion of us…and I know my part in that.”

“That’s all I ask. Are we cool?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because the captain wants to see you, and I don’t want to explain that you’re pouting.”

“I am not pouting!”

The predator’s lips adopted a slight curvature, which seemed indicative of amusement. I was beginning to understand how Slanek could read emotions in their snarls; it was just a way of compensating for their missing tails. Did humans ever envy that additional appendage that the rest of us took for granted? It was a miracle they were so graceful and balanced without it.

I shoveled a pawful of vegetables down my gullet, then dismounted from my bed. Carlos steered us back toward Monahan’s office, and we traversed the ship corridors in a comfortable silence. Amazement rippled through me, as I realized my spines were lying flat. The second I noted my proximity to the predator, they returned to full bristle.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Yikes…that is starting to hurt. Why did I have to think about it?

The doors to our destination slid open, and distracted me from the latest dose of fear chemicals. The UN captain was reviewing one clip when we entered, a curt exchange between Coth and Ross. Her eyes were bloodshot, like she had been poring over footage all night. Humans could be obsessive, that was for certain.

“—want peace? What do you see as acceptable end conditions for the war?” the Terran interrogator asked.

“You don’t get it. There is us and them.” Saliva oozed from the reptilian captain’s fangs as it spoke. “There can only be peace when every Federation planet is dead. That is acceptable.”

Ross narrowed his eyes. “What if that is not acceptable to us?”

“Then you’re stupider than I took you for, and you’ll die with the Federation. You can watch the prey-folk neuter your race before your extinction.”

Captain Monahan punched some notation into her holopad. Her sigh sounded flustered, but she didn’t seem concerned by the extermination threat. If I didn’t know better, I would think that question had been aimed at finding out if diplomatic avenues between us and the grays were possible.

“So there would be no room for negotiation?” the UN interrogator pressed. “Humanity cares for one alien species above all others. They are a part of our pack, and we will not abandon them.”

Coth thought for a moment. Its pupils darted from side to side, as if it were scanning its memory banks. The cold intelligence on display was appalling, and the Terrans’ reckless divulgence alarmed me. Humans were painting a target on Venlil Prime, if they publicized that alliance to the enemy.

Poor Tarva. The species she saved from certain death is trying to get her killed in return. Careless, idiot monkeys.

“The Venlil,” Coth decided. “You’ve got to be kidding. That explains their thwarting what should’ve been a simple border raid.”

Ross was quiet. The human maintained eye contact, and waited for the prisoner to continue. He did not confirm or deny the reptilian’s guess, which was affirmation of itself.

The Arxur slammed its snout against the table. “One of the weakest, most frightful species of them all. The Venlil are beneath you!”

“That is for us to decide.”

“Surely you see that they’re a liability to you? What use could they be? You referred to them as packmates, not food or slaves. That means equals.”

“I meant what I said, Coth. An attack on them is an attack on us. We would die for them, happily.”

“But why?”

“Because they defended us from the Federation, despite the fact that we’re predators. They were the only ones who helped us. Humanity would never repay such a debt with anything less.”

The Arxur shook its head, huffing with disgust. The abomination was repulsed by the interrogator’s soft rhetoric; this was Ross’ worst miscalculation yet. Still, it was a relief to hear that the humans would stand by the Venlil, if nothing else. I thought they were ashamed of their prey friends for a moment.

A growl rumbled in Coth’s throat. “What is it you’re asking? We could discuss sparing one species, if that’s what you require to join us.”

“That, and the release of every Venlil held as livestock, unharmed,” the human barked.

“You expect us to give up millions of cattle we already have? We’re starving as is. Surrendering any of our existing food supply is a nonstarter.”

Captain Monahan tapped a button on her console, and the video feed paused. I knew she was the one who directed the interrogator to barter over lives, like any mundane commodity. She hadn’t even reacted to the premise of Venlil as food. These familiar faces were leaning into their predator roots a bit too much, ever since they started interacting with the grays.

Fortunately, this foray had gone nowhere; that last statement sealed the finality of a diplomatic impasse. The Arxur would never part ways with their precious quarry, by Coth’s own admission. Regardless, the offer to spare the Venlil further harm was empty talk. The predator would say whatever it thought afforded the best chance of escape.

Would the humans abandon this folly now? It was insulting that they would even pose such questions.

Monahan sighed. “Well, it’s a start. The Federation said the grays were incapable of negotiation.”

“You’re negotiating on whether your best friends deserve to have their pups tortured and hunted for kicks?” I spat incredulously.

“Sovlin! You are out of line.” Carlos tugged at my scruff, which snapped my attention to his flabbergasted expression. “She doesn’t answer to you. You said it yourself.”

“It’s alright,” Monahan growled. “If we rescue every enslaved Venlil, I don’t imagine Tarva will care how we achieve it. Especially if that option would negate years of suffering for those people, and save Earth significant loss of life.”

The UN guard narrowed his eyes. “There is a reason we get along with Tarva. Her government is actually reasonable.”

Implying that mine is not.

Irritation swelled in my chest. “So you’re really moving forward with this plan?”

“Nothing has been decided, Sovlin, because it’s not my decision. My job is to weigh options for the UN, and to see if talking is even a possibility. Turns out, it just might be,” the Terran captain replied.

“You didn’t even mention Gojids, or any other species to Coth. Let’s say you save the Venlil. Then, you’re just gonna let everyone else rot?”

“Humanity does not believe any sapient deserves such treatment. We would never be involved with or agree with those practices.” Monahan raised her eyebrows, emphasizing her predatory gaze. “However, if we can only save one race, you should understand why the Venlil are our top priority.”

“It’s still wrong. I refuse to help you trade lives… and bargain with those demons!”

“Good thing that’s not why I summoned you, then. Now that we control the cradle, we’d like your help with the Gojid refugee crisis. They belong with their colonies or the Federation, but it’s not so simple.”

There was no need for further explanation from the captain. I grasped the dilemma that humanity was facing. It wasn’t as easy as flying this ship to the nearest Gojid colony and dropping them off. An inbound Terran transport would draw shoot-to-kill missile fire, no matter how slow their approach or polite their hail. The same problem would occur at any Federation outpost.

Using the Venlil as a courier may not work either. They’re considered predators by association, at this point.

However, with the humans potentially in cahoots with the Arxur, we had to get the Gojid refugees out of their custody at once. Judging by the reaction to Coth’s interview, the primates were susceptible to corrupting influences. It didn’t take much to warp their good intentions, and rope them into a dastardly scheme.

The more I pondered it, the enemy’s motives could stretch beyond escape. The offer of an alliance might be genuine, since the UN impressed so thoroughly in their early engagements. Humans had the power to decide the conflict for either side, and would only grow more dangerous with time.

The Federation needed to straighten up our act, and make sure the Terrans stayed in our corner. I had to do whatever was in my power to convince our galactic allies not to follow Gojid mistakes. Antagonizing Earth made the child-eaters look more palatable, even to noble soldiers like Monahan and Carlos. Adding a second predator to the Arxur side would turn this war into a demolition.

“Then we contact both my people and the Federation,” I decided. “I still have some sway.”

Monahan grimaced. “How do we speak to your people? Your settlers might need to relocate; we don’t have the resources to protect this region long-term.”

“I’ll tell you how to reach Gojid government channels. If they still exist, that is… be warned, they probably don’t. The last I heard, the designated bunker was looking shaky.”

Carlos rubbed his neck anxiously. “Doesn’t your Prime Minister hate us?”

“Piri had a change of heart. She would be a useful witness with the Federation, regarding this whole debacle. Short of that, I’m probably your best mouthpiece. You know, being one of the few surviving and well-known Gojids.”

“You’re the best? We’re doomed,” the UN guard groaned.

Monahan chuckled. “Let’s see if the PM’s alive before we pronounce our political death, Romero.”

“Look what you’ve got your captain thinking. Political death?” I glowered at Carlos, knowing intimidation would have no effect. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He flashed his teeth. “No problem!”

Whatever the Terrans might think of my reliability, the remnants of the Gojidi Union needed to do our part. Right now, the Venlil were the only incentive for Earth and her citizens to risk their hides. That needed to change, before it was too late.

I was going to impress upon anyone that would listen that humans were a species worth saving; even if we were saving them from their predator selves.